Bethany had to admit that she admired the girl for sacrificing her trip to stay with her uncle. She hadn’t expected the teen to respond in such a mature way. In fact, Bethany realized that she had wrongly judged them both.
Why was that?
She swerved to miss a pothole. She didn’t think of herself as an overly judgmental person. For the most part, she liked people.
Barrett Banner invaded her thoughts, and she clenched her jaw. Why would her ex-boyfriend come to mind now?
She glanced over to check on Evan, and it hit her. The men somewhat resembled each other. Barrett was about the same height, around six feet, but he was stockier than Evan. Barrett had been the only man she’d considered marrying—until he dumped her for a redheaded biology major with a cheerleader’s body. Her grip tightened on the steering wheel as she remembered Barrett’s blue eyes.
Bethany scowled. Had she somehow subconsciously considered the two men the same?
But they weren’t, not by a long shot.
Barrett had been a taker, moving in and forcing a relationship she hadn’t wanted at first, and then when she decided that she did, he dropped her cold.
She drove into the ranch yard and pulled around to the side entrance so Evan wouldn’t have to walk so far. She hadn’t known him long, but she couldn’t imagine him treating a woman as Barrett had. Too bad she’d never get a chance to find out. Once she got him settled and heard what the doctor had to say, she’d return to the tour and would probably never see Evan Parker again.
❧
The doctor straightened and eyed Evan over the top of his black-rimmed glasses. “Well, Mr. Parker, it seems you have the chicken pox.”
Confusion swarmed Evan’s already foggy mind. Chicken pox? Hadn’t Erin said he’d already had them? “But I thought that was a kids’ disease.”
“Usually it is, but adults do occasionally get it, and it can be quite severe. Until all your spots crust over, you’re highly contagious.” He ran a long, thin finger over his mustache and looked around. Evan followed his gaze. The large bedroom sported a king-sized bed, two nightstands with lamps, a recliner on the far side of one nightstand, and a large wardrobe with a television hidden behind double doors. Bear and moose statues accentuated the wallpaper around the top of the walls, which displayed log cabins and woodland creatures.
“You’re fortunate to have such a nice suite here. I suggest you stay in your room for the next week or so and take things easy. Enjoy the room service and relax.” His expression softened. “I’m sure that’s not the vacation you had planned when you came here.”
Evan shrugged, but he suddenly realized he’d just been handed hours upon hours in which he could work on his program—just as soon as his raging headache dimmed. Please, Lord, make it so.
Of course, that wasn’t fair to Taylor. Maybe he could talk her into going back to the tour with Miss Schaffer.
Dr. Franklin scribbled something in his black leather notebook. “When did you first notice the rash, Mr. Parker?”
“Last night when I took a shower.” Evan cleared his throat. It hurt, and he longed for something cold to drink.
“Hmm. Since the rash just appeared, I’m going to prescribe an antiviral drug for you to take. It may lessen the severity of your symptoms.” Dr. Franklin packed away his instruments and lifted his black bag. He tugged on his gray goatee. “You can expect to have a few uncomfortable days. Calamine lotion may help with the itching, but see to it you don’t scratch. It only makes things worse and can cause scarring.”
Great. Half of his body itched as if he’d rolled in a poison ivy patch and scratching wasn’t allowed. He relaxed against the soft pillow and stuck his hands behind his head. At least he was in a comfortable bed and partway back to civilization.
“Miss Schaffer has my phone number. If you get worse in any way, have her call me. Chicken pox is rare in adults, and it can cause serious complications. Make sure you drink plenty of liquids, and you can take ibuprofen for your headache.” He tipped his Western hat and left the room, carrying his worn black bag with him. The man reminded Evan of Doc Adams from Gunsmoke, a TV show he’d watched as a kid.
The second the doctor closed the door to their suite, Taylor bolted out of her room and into his.
“Hold it right there, young lady.” He dropped his hand back to the bed.
She lifted one hand like a princess and swirled it around. “Oh, I had the chicken pox back when I was in kindergarten, so I’m immune. Let me see your spots.”
“No.” Evan leaned back against his pillow. Just lifting his head to look at his niece made it throb. “I’m really sorry about this, sweetie.”
Taylor sighed and sat on the foot of his bed. “It’s not your fault. Like, if it’s anybody’s, I blame Jamie. He’s the one who gave you the chicken pox.”
“And who gave them to Jamie?”
She shrugged and sighed. “Got ’em at school, I imagine.”
Evan smiled. “So we can blame some nameless fifth grader.”
“Yeah, I guess.” Taylor’s lips turned upward. “So, are you hungry? I could get you something from downstairs.”
“Thirsty, and I could use some ibuprofen.”
Taylor hopped up as if happy to find something to do. “I’ll be right back. You want a Coke?”
“Apple juice or ginger ale if they have it. I might take some soup later.” Evan rolled onto his side and stuck a pillow against his stomach. He nudged his chin toward his pants on the desk chair. “Get some money out of my wallet. Get yourself a snack if you want one, and take enough money for what we need now and some for you to have if you want something later.”
Someone knocked, and Taylor opened the hallway door. Evan thought he heard Miss Schaffer mumble something but couldn’t make out the words. Taylor ambled back into the bedroom. “Bethany wants to see you if it’s okay.”
He nodded and made sure the hunter green blanket covered most of his body. He saw her shadow moments before she stood at the door with a shy smile on her lips. Her honey-colored hair, which had been blown haphazardly by their Jeep ride earlier, had been tamed once again.
Those dark chocolate eyes stared at him with concern; then her lips danced as if she were holding back a grin. “Chicken pox?”
Evan shrugged. “What can I say? Guilty as charged.”
Bethany pressed her lips together, but her eyes still glimmered. She fiddled with the doorjamb with her fingers. “I’m sorry. It’s just that when I saw that rash, I thought maybe you were having some horrible allergic reaction to something you came in contact with. Can I get you anything?”
Evan’s gaze took in her red cotton shirt tucked into her jeans, revealing her narrow waist and womanly figure. Dust-covered boots completed her outfit, making her look every bit the Western woman she was. “Taylor has money to get me something to drink and for some pills for my head. Maybe you could open the store?”
Bethany nodded and waved her hand in the air. “Of course I can, but get whatever you want. It’s on the house. I’m driving to town to get your prescription filled and need to know your birth date and home address. I have your sister’s address on record, since she made the reservation, but not yours.” Her cheeks reddened. “The pharmacy always asks for that info.”
His head felt as if it was caught in a vice, and he longed to scratch his whole body. “Have Taylor show you my driver’s license. It’s got all that info. Could you maybe pick up some calamine lotion?”
Bethany’s golden brows lifted.
“The doc said it would help with the itching.”
She smiled, sending his stomach into spasms. Or maybe it was because he hadn’t eaten all day. “Sorry to be all this trouble. We’ll get out of your hair just as soon as I feel like driving.”
“Just get better and don’t worry about that.”
“Yeah, this is one of those times where we have to trust that God knows what He’s doing.”
Her smile dimmed, and she waved. “Be back soon.”
>
She left his room but not his mind.
He couldn’t help admiring how in-charge she was around the camp and didn’t let bugs or critters bother her, but she seemed to get flustered when things didn’t go as planned or when he mentioned God. What could have happened to cause such a reaction?
“Lord, help her come to know You. Let Bethany see that You can ease her load if she’ll only let You.”
Eight
Bethany smacked the wheel of her Jeep as she spun onto the highway, squealing her tires and scattering pebbles behind her. She ought to be heading back to camp to see if anyone else had fallen sick, but she needed to pick up Evan’s prescription and get him on the road to recovery so he could go home. Still, deep down, if she were honest with herself, she’d admit that she was glad to be able to do something to help him. He’d looked so helpless lying in bed with his hair all messed up and blue eyes filled with discomfort.
He was right about trusting God when things went wrong. She knew that in her heart, but getting her mind to align with that truth was something else. Her father was a tough, quiet man who worked hard. He didn’t show affection easily. Bethany rarely saw her parents kiss except for a little good-bye peck, like a bird snatching a crumb. Her dad had always been busy, and after her mother died, it seemed as if he’d worked even harder to drown his sorrow. She’d had to figure things out herself and find answers to her problems rather than relying on her father to help her. When had she quit relying on God, too?
Chicken pox. She shook her head and grinned. She’d never heard of an adult catching that. Suddenly, her smile faded. Had she ever had them?
She couldn’t remember, but maybe her dad would know.
The doctor had said Evan already had the chicken pox in his system before he came to Moose Valley—that a person could be contagious before they even knew they had it. What if she had already contracted the disease? She moaned. “Wonderful! Just wonderful.”
How many others would come down sick before the end of the tour? She’d better get several bottles of that calamine lotion and keep the doctor’s phone number handy.
He had also said that the chicken pox took ten days to two weeks to incubate. That meant it wasn’t likely anyone else would come down with it before the end of the tour. Still, she’d need to notify each family that they had been exposed to the disease. But what if a bunch of them wanted to leave and asked for a refund?
Concern chased her like a crazed bull. She guided the Jeep along the road, passing wide valleys of wildflowers, going up and down steep hills and around sharp switchbacks. The drive to town was as pretty as any one would see on the tour, but today her mind was elsewhere.
If she had to, she could use her savings to give partial refunds to a few of the guests, but she hoped it wouldn’t come to that. If only Evan Parker hadn’t come to Moose Valley. She wouldn’t have this worry, and the man wouldn’t be bugging her mind like a bad case of the chiggers.
And why was he always on her mind?
Yeah, he was cute and tall. But there was something about him that drew her like a butterfly to a flower. He exuded peacefulness.
She pulled into the pharmacy lot and parked. That was it. While she wrestled with the turmoil of the ranch’s finances and the problems on the wagon tour, Evan was calm and peaceful. Never rattled.
Just like her mother had been.
She opened her door and stepped out of the Jeep. Well, maybe that worked for him, but she had an ongoing mystery to solve. It was a good thing she was going back to the tour this afternoon and that Evan Parker would have gone home by the time she returned. Too much peacefulness could drive a woman crazy. She knew that for a fact.
An hour and a half later, Bethany tramped into the lodge and set the sack of medicine on the counter. When you lived so far up in the mountains, there was no such thing as a quick trip to town.
Her dad mumbled something into the office phone and hung up. His chair squeaked as he rolled backward, and then he stood. His warm smile settled her worries as he exited the office and leaned on the counter. “As of this moment, we are filled up for the next tour.”
“That’s great news.” She stretched and rolled her head, working the kinks out of her shoulders. “Have you had any more cancellations?”
He nodded. “Two, but I had a waiting list, and those folks were thrilled to fill the openings.”
“Good.” She smiled. “I got Mr. Parker’s medicine. Hey, have I ever had chicken pox?”
Her dad rubbed his chin and stared at the ceiling. After a moment he nodded. “I think so. I know you had something that caused spots all over you.”
“Let’s hope it wasn’t the measles.”
“Why?”
“Because Mr. Parker has the chicken pox.”
Her dad fought a grin. “Seriously?”
She nodded and rattled the paper bag. “I’ll just run this up to Evan’s room; then I’m going to take a shower and head back out to the tour.”
Her father shuffled his feet and studied the floor. “Well, about that. . . I think you should stay here in case Mr. Parker needs you.”
“What?” Bethany straightened. “Why me?”
He leaned his full weight against the counter and tapped a pencil on a notepad with the Moose Valley logo on it. “I don’t know nothin’ about caring for sick folks. Besides, Scott is back and needs something to do.”
She frowned. “I thought you laid off Scott.”
He shook his head and looked confused. “What gave you that idea? His grandma died, so he went home for a week to attend the funeral and spend time with his family.”
“Oh, guess I misunderstood. I’m glad he’s still around.” She thought of the good-natured cowboy who played guitar and led the singing around the evening campfire. When she was younger, she’d wanted to grow up and marry the handsome man, but as she got older, she realized the difference in their years was too great. He was closer to her dad’s age than hers.
A playful grin tugged at her dad’s lips and danced in his eyes. “Besides, I thought you might like some time to get that fancy computer of yours set up. Not that I’ll ever use it once you’re gone from here.”
Her heart somersaulted, and her mind immediately started assembling the computer. “Really? I’d love to get started on that project.”
He slapped the counter so hard that she jumped. “Good! I’ll tell Scott to get packed. Are there any supplies we need to take with us?”
“Us?”
“With all the problems this week, I thought it might be good to have an extra set of eyes up there.”
She nodded. “Might not be a bad idea. As far as supplies, I don’t know of any, but you might call Jenny or Jim. Someone is going to have to survey all the guests and find out if everyone has had the chicken pox. Or at least inform them that they’ve been exposed.”
“What if they haven’t? We sure can’t offer them all a refund.”
Bethany crossed her arms. “I don’t know. If they’ve just now been exposed, then maybe they won’t be contagious or break out until they return home. The doc said it takes a week and a half to two weeks to incubate.”
Her dad stood and scratched his head with both hands, leaving his short gray hair pointing in a jillion different directions. Kind of like someone else’s. “Okay then, I’ll go hunt down Scott.”
“After you do that, could you get those computer boxes from our living room and cart them down to the office while I get a shower?”
Ever the Western gentleman, he tipped an imaginary hat. “Yes, ma’am. I can do that.”
She jogged up the steps, her excitement growing. Finally. She’d be able to bring her family’s record-keeping system into the twenty-first century. She slowed her steps outside Evan’s suite; the television hummed through the walls. Maybe she could recruit Taylor to help her. The girl must be bored.
She thought of her foreman’s daughter. That’s it. I can introduce her to Cheryl.
She reached up to knock on the
door then lowered her hand. If Bethany stayed here, she would probably see more of Evan. She would have to face her feelings instead of running back on tour as she’d planned.
But then what was the point of it? He’d leave in a week and go back to his home in Laramie, and she’d go to Denver. She’d learned years ago that long-distance relationships never worked out. Oh sure, there were sworn promises to e-mail or call, but the longer two people were apart, the rarer those contacts became. Better just to nip things in the bud.
She knocked on the door, and after a moment Taylor answered, eyeing the sack in Bethany’s hands. “Hi.”
Bethany held it out to her. “I’ve got your uncle’s prescription and calamine lotion. I also picked up a bottle of ibuprofen for him so he can take them as he needs. Is there anything else I can do for you guys?”
Taylor shook her head. Without the sassy teen attitude pouring forth, the girl was pretty with her dark brown hair and blue eyes almost as vibrant as her uncle’s.
“Let me set this down and get the money. Uncle Evan said to be sure I paid you for the medicine.”
Bethany waited while the girl fished around in her pockets and held out the money. “Thanks.”
Taylor leaned against the doorjamb as if in no hurry to get back to her show.
Bethany ought to leave, but she wanted to ask about Evan. “How’s he doing?”
“Sleeping, moaning, and trying not to scratch.” Taylor grinned. “Men can be such babies when they’re sick. Mom always said if Dad got a paper cut on his finger, he’d have to go to bed for two days.”
Bethany shared a chuckle with the teen. Her dad had always been hale and hearty, and she knew nothing about men being sick. “I’m going to put together a new computer downstairs. If you get bored and want something to do, feel free to come and help.”
Taylor’s eyes sparked with interest. “Thanks. I might just do that after I give Uncle Evan his medicine.”
Walking down the hall, she thought how fortunate Evan was to have his niece to care for him. The few times she’d been sick, Polly, the ranch cook, had tended to her, but it wasn’t the same as having family care for you. Bethany sighed. She wished she could have checked on Evan herself, but it hardly seemed proper now that they were back at the lodge. She ran down the stairs, thankful to have a project that would occupy her mind and rid it of Evan Parker.
Wagonload Of Trouble Page 8