by Angel Smits
“Oh, Wyatt. Why did they call you guys? How long have I been here?” she whispered, knowing it took over an hour to get here from the ranch.
“A while, I’d guess.” He sat on the stiff chair the nurse had pulled up beside the bed, while DJ stood with his arms crossed over his chest. “We just got here. What happened?”
“I woke up feeling sick this morning. I—I don’t know. Ryan? Marcus? I remember...” She put a hand to her forehead, frowning, not really remembering anything. “I don’t know.”
“Don’t worry about it, Ad. Not right now.”
“Are you her brother?” Another man, wearing dark-blue scrubs, came through the curtain then, a tablet in his hand and a stethoscope around his neck.
“I am.” Wyatt stood. “Can you tell me what’s going on?”
“Some. Some you’ll have to get from Ms. Hawkins when she’s a bit more coherent.” He pulled a pair of glasses from atop his head and turned to Addie. “You’re overheated. Heatstroke can be a serious problem.” He went on to explain how one got it, which Wyatt wasn’t really interested in. He was interested in how Addie had.
“I took a cold shower.” She remembered how awful that had made her feel.
The doctor shook his head. “That’s probably what sent you into shock. If this ever happens again, you need to cool down slowly.” He scribbled on the tablet’s screen. “Drink cool liquids. Put ice packs on your neck, your feet. Don’t jump into a cold shower. It’s too abrupt and will send you into shock.”
“My air-conditioning,” she whispered. “I think I need a repairman.” She looked at Wyatt.
He glared at her. “You should have called us.” She glared back. He smiled. “You must be getting better.”
“The IV is to stop the vomiting,” the doctor said, interrupting them. “We can’t get her hydrated if we can’t keep the fluids in her system. She’s doing fine now. Should be able to go home in a couple hours.”
“Good,” Addie said, though there wasn’t much enthusiasm or energy in her answer.
“We’ll take you back to the ranch—”
“No, you won’t. I’ve got to go to work tomorrow.”
“I’d advise against that,” the doctor said as he wrote on the tablet. “You should take at least a day to get your strength back. Maybe two.”
“Tomorrow is Friday.” She cringed at the sound of her whining voice. “There’s a big assembly at school. I can’t miss it.”
“We’ll see.” Wyatt didn’t argue with her right now, but that look told her he would. Too bad. She was going to that assembly.
“I’d like her to have another bag of the solution before we release her.” The doctor pointed at the IV bag. “Should take another hour, or less.”
“Thanks.” Wyatt shook the doctor’s hand as he left. The nurse came in with a new IV seconds later. Addie didn’t move, and she closed her eyes again. So tired.
“You’ll be okay,” Wyatt reassured her and put his hand over hers.
“Thanks,” she whispered, barely able to stay awake.
“We’ll be right back. You get some rest.” Wyatt didn’t wait for an answer. Good thing, because he wasn’t going to get one.
* * *
“IS SHE OKAY?” Ryan looked up, concern on his face when the two cowboys emerged from the doors. Marcus stood, trying not to pace.
“She will be,” Wyatt said. “They’re giving her another IV, but will release her after that’s finished.”
“Thank goodness.” Marcus sank back in his seat, relief taking away the anxiety that had been prodding him upright. He hadn’t realized how worried he’d been.
Everyone was silent for a long moment. “The doc says she’s got heatstroke. She mumbled something about her air conditioner? Do you know what happened?”
Marcus shook his head. “No. Ryan? Did anyone say anything about that at school?”
Ryan looked up, a concerned frown on his face. “She wasn’t there all day today, and everyone in the office seemed surprised. Ms. Hanson said she’s never sick. That’s why we went over to her house.”
“Did you notice if the air conditioner was running?”
Ryan frowned again, thinking. “It was kinda warm, but I didn’t go check.” He shrugged.
“Was she in the kitchen? Making cookies?” Wyatt asked, as if he expected her to be doing that. Marcus frowned. That seemed odd. He was grasping at straws, and he knew it. But what else could he do? He was clearly worried.
“Uh—maybe? We found her in the kitchen.”
Wyatt looked at Marcus. “Did you notice if the oven was on?”
“I don’t really remember. Damn.” He started thinking. Was the stove still on? Had it been on? He’d been focused on her.
“We need to go check. I’ll stay here with her. DJ, you got your keys to her place?” He pulled them out of his pocket.
“I’ll go check,” the younger cowboy said. “It’s supposed to get into the nineties tomorrow.”
“Letting her go back home if the same situation still exists seems stupid. If the AC isn’t fixed, she’s not staying.”
“I can look at it, but I don’t know that I can do much with it,” Marcus offered.
“That’s okay. DJ, maybe get a window unit, if nothing else. If I know my stubborn sister, she won’t go to a hotel. She sure as heck won’t go to my place. Already tried that.”
“She can stay at our place, right, Dad?” Ryan piped up, his hopes written all over his face.
Marcus gulped. He couldn’t tell them no. It would break Ryan’s heart. Besides, it seemed the right thing to do. “Of—of course, she’s welcome,” Marcus responded, though there wasn’t near the excitement in his voice as in his son’s.
Marcus knew the men were curious, wondering about how well they knew Addie. He wouldn’t let his sister stay with just anyone, either.
* * *
THIS TIME WHEN Addie opened her eyes, she was convinced she’d lost her mind. The curve of the window frame. The pale mauve on the walls. The way the morning light reflected off the wood floor. It was all intimately familiar.
She was in her old bedroom. Except—that wasn’t possible. That room was gone. There weren’t any dolls scattered on the floor, no clothes prompting Mom to yell for them to be picked up, no unmade beds. Just the single bed frame, a dresser, a chair and—she glanced over at the wall—a family photo. Marcus, Ryan, and a woman. A petite, blond woman with a smile for them both.
It had to be Marcus’s wife, Carolyn.
No. This wasn’t Addie’s room anymore.
Though it had been—a long time ago.
She sat up, her head barely spinning, but still light. She felt much better now. Thank goodness.
Slowly, Addie stood, an accomplishment considering how she’d felt the last time she’d woken up. Slowly, she walked over to the photo. Ryan was much younger. His front tooth was missing. She leaned closer. Or two? He was adorable. Marcus looked younger, too. There were fewer lines on his face. His smile was more open. Genuine. She reached out and touched the cool glass over their faces.
Addie’s reserves were low. She couldn’t dodge the bolt of envy that shot through her when she looked at the other woman’s happy smile. Stepping back from the picture, she nearly stumbled. She reprimanded herself, reminding herself that Carolyn was gone. She’d lost her battle with whatever disease she’d had. Carolyn could never again be with the people she loved. A love that clearly shone in the pretty blonde’s photographed eyes.
Addie wondered what was wrong with her. How could she envy someone who’d lost everything?
She shouldn’t...but she did.
Looking at Ryan’s cute baby face, a familiar ache grew in Addie’s chest, and she returned to sit on the side of the bed. If things had been different... But they weren’t. Like always, she tried to shut down the hurt. She took deep
, slow breaths, trying to ease the tightness. In with the good. Out with the bad. Inhale. Exhale. And again.
Addie’s eyes burned, but the sound of footsteps in the hall gave her the impetus to hastily blink the moisture away.
A knock came at the door. “Addie?” Marcus asked softly. “Are you awake?”
“Yes.” She tried to make her voice sound normal. Despite the fact she was wearing pajamas—that she only vaguely remembered putting on—she hastily pulled up the covers.
Marcus pushed the door open. He made his way to the bed with a tray in his hands. “Doctor says you need to stay hydrated.” There were two glasses of juice and one of water on the tray. “I wasn’t sure what you liked.”
“Thanks.” She watched him settle the tray on the nightstand before moving to the wing-backed chair in the corner.
“How are you feeling?” he asked.
“Better.” She took a slow sip. It tasted like heaven. She drank a bit more, her eyes involuntarily returning to the photo.
Marcus saw the path of her gaze but didn’t say anything.
“You bought my mother’s house.” She chose a different topic.
“I didn’t realize that until last night. Wyatt was a bit surprised that you didn’t know.”
She shrugged. “I thought a trust bought it.”
“Yeah.” He nodded. “After Carolyn’s death, I put everything in a trust. That way, if something happens to me, Ryan doesn’t ever have to worry. He’ll always have a home.”
She nodded, her eyes again drawn to the photo. She hastily looked around at everything but the warm family scene. “This used to be my room. Though it looks different.”
“Yeah, Wyatt said something about that last night, too.”
“He was here? I don’t remember.”
“Yeah. He and your other brother DJ.” At her nod, he continued. “They helped us get you settled and brought you an overnight bag. It’s over there. Don’t you remember?”
She frowned at the now-empty juice glass. She didn’t remember drinking all of it, either. “Vague snatches, but not really. Sorry. Still a little foggy.”
“Don’t be sorry. You’ve had a lot to deal with.”
“Uh, yes.” The silence stretched between them.
Finally, Marcus stood. “I’ll head down and make some breakfast if you’re up to it. Feel free to take a shower.” He walked to the door carrying the tray. “I’d tell you where it is, but guess you know that. After breakfast, I’ll gladly take you home.” He smiled, but she couldn’t smile back.
“I’ll be right down,” was all she said.
Half an hour later, showered and changed, Addie headed downstairs. It was strange being here, especially with someone else’s belongings in the house.
Stepping into the kitchen, she could only stare. Laid out similar to hers, it was definitely not Mom’s anymore. A few items sat on the counter, but what drew her attention was the big dining table that they’d left with the house. It was stacked with an assortment of...stuff. She saw a laptop, books and so much more.
She had to keep reminding herself that Mom was gone and that the house had sold several months ago. It wasn’t her responsibility or her home any longer. Still...
“There you are.” Marcus’s deep voice came through the back door from the shadows of the patio. A few seconds later, he stepped inside.
“Oh, hello.” She felt her cheeks warm at being caught gawking. “It’s...different.”
“I’ll bet. I’m not much of a housekeeper. Sorry.” He hastily grabbed a few things and shoved them into cupboards. A loaf of bread and jar of peanut butter were all that was still out. It looked better—marginally. “There’s no point in putting it away.” He pointed at the peanut butter. “Ryan eats it by the gallon.”
She smiled. “Healthy for him.”
“Yeah.” He stepped to the back door and indicated she precede him. “I set breakfast out on the patio. We eat out here, mostly.”
Stepping out onto the small patio, she frowned. The grass was just waking up from being winter dormant. Hopefully, when Marcus turned on the sprinklers, it would green up. The trees looked good, but the vines. Oh, the beautiful vines were nearly bare, their leaves withered and dry on the wall of Dad’s workshop.
Those had been Mom’s pride and joy. Would they even bloom this year?
“You look better today.” Marcus interrupted her thoughts. “I almost wouldn’t recognize you. Sorry.” He looked a bit sheepish.
“You mean without the pallor of sickness?” He had seen her at her worst. But this man had carried her into the emergency room and gotten her the necessary help. When she’d woken up after the second IV bag, he and Ryan had been long gone. Wyatt had brought her here, apparently. She hadn’t had the chance to thank either of them properly.
She’d have to figure out something more, but the words would have to do for now. “Thank you.”
“It’s nice to have company for a real breakfast.”
“Yes, for that. But also for getting me to the hospital. I’m sure it totally messed up your day.” She sat on the nearest chair, realizing she really was hungry. The pastries and juice looked delicious.
“I only had one class yesterday, so no problem. I didn’t think you’d want anything too heavy.” He sat beside her, and they both looked out over the yard. It was a while before Marcus finally spoke. “Uh, you are up to eating something, aren’t you? I guess I should have asked.”
“Don’t worry. I’m famished,” she replied almost too quickly. She did appreciate his caring and, without thinking, reached out to put her hand on his. His skin was warm and solid beneath hers. She froze and looked at him. He returned her gaze. Time stopped.
Hastily, Addie pulled her hand back and focused on taking a pastry. She didn’t look at him again until she’d eaten nearly half of it. He ate slowly, focusing on his plate.
“That used to be my father’s workshop,” she said, trying to think of something to say to break the awkwardness between them.
“I wondered. What kind of workshop?”
“Woodworking.” She smiled, thankful for the safe topic. “He wanted to learn to make furniture. I think he thought if we kids were going to keep breaking it, he should learn to fix it.”
Marcus laughed. “Sounds like a logical man.”
“He was. He had advice for everything.”
“There are a bunch of boxes in the rafters I was going to look through.”
“Oh, I’m sorry. We didn’t mean to leave anything. I thought the guys got it all.”
“It’s not a problem, Addie.” Marcus smiled at her. “Really. I can’t imagine how much stuff was here if you all grew up in this house.”
“Tons. Mom got rid of a lot when she got sick. But Dad’s stuff was hard for her to part with.”
The silence stretched out again. “I can understand that.” His eyes grew distant, and she wondered what he was thinking about. The picture from her old bedroom came to mind.
He shook his head, though, and refocused on her. “I’ll take a look at it and let you know what it is.”
They continued eating in silence. Finally finished, she stood. “I’ll grab my stuff. I can walk home. The assembly is this afternoon, and I’d really like to be there.”
“I said I’d take you. I’m heading to the campus, as well.” He stood and gathered the dishes as she headed upstairs.
Everything was put away when she returned. “I don’t want to be a bother—”
“Addie, stop.” Marcus stood in front of her. “Wyatt warned me about you, you know.”
“Warned you?” She frowned at him, which made him laugh. It really was a wonderful sound.
“He said you’re terrible at taking care of yourself.”
“I do fine most of the time.” She lifted a defensive chin.
“It’s
okay to need help, you know. Besides, it wasn’t that big of a deal. But you’re welcome. Ryan was really worried about you.”
“I’m sorry I scared him.” The quiet surrounded them, slowly filling with the sounds of nature and the neighborhood that filtered in. “I didn’t mean to.”
They stood there, then he canted his head just a bit to the side. “Carolyn’s illness was hard on him. On us both. He’s getting attached to you. I’m not sure why.”
“I don’t know.” She took a step back, the concern in his eyes more intense than she’d expected. “I only missed school yesterday. I think I talked with Lindy. You met her at the dance. But that’s foggy, too.” She shrugged and moved toward the door. “I’ll talk to him—”
“No. He’ll have to learn to deal with these types of emotions. Let’s see how it goes.”
Addie nodded. She was the one who took care of her family. It was easy taking on concern for Ryan. What she didn’t have much experience doing was taking care of herself. “I only vaguely remember hearing your voices. I don’t think I even answered the door when you got there, did I?” She rubbed her forehead, wishing the memories were clearer, less fever damaged.
He shook his head. “It’s a good thing we knew where you lived, I guess.” He reached past her to pull open the door. “Ryan came home pretty upset.”
“I didn’t mean to—”
“It’s okay.” For a long minute, he looked at her. “He was worried.” He took a deep breath. “Me, too.”
“Thank you,” she whispered. Rising on her tiptoes, she gently kissed him.
It was a light kiss, on the cheek, and yet...she froze. Marcus turned his head, his gaze finding hers. So blue, so intense. So close, then gone as her eyelids drifted shut and her lips parted.
CHAPTER EIGHT
MARCUS’S LIPS WERE warm against hers. Addie hadn’t expected this when she’d initiated the simple thank-you kiss. But now? A part of her had wanted it. Wanted it badly.
She reached out. His forearms were hard and strong beneath her hands. She curled her fingers around his arms, feeling his muscles flex beneath her touch. He shifted, and those warm, solid hands settled at her waist, pulling her close.