Dr. Holt waved them to an open cubicle. “Let’s get him up on the bed.”
Jon and the doctor each took an arm and lifted Mr. Crawford to his feet. She quickly pulled the chair out of the way so they could maneuver him onto the bed.
Dr. Holt called a nurse in. “Let’s get an oxygen mask on him and start a blood workup.” He turned to her and Jon. “Please go to the desk and get . . .”
Jon took over. “Dennis Crawford. My father. I’m Jon.”
“Nice to meet you, Jon. We’ll take good care of him. Has he been ill?”
Jon actually turned to her. “I haven’t spoken to him in a week. We were packing and getting ready to move here.”
She turned to the doctor. “I spoke with him on the phone about two hours ago. He was congested, coughing, wheezing a bit. He couldn’t catch his breath. He wanted me to deliver some soup and other food.”
“Sounds like maybe he’s got flu or pneumonia. We’ll know more when we run some tests.” With that, the doctor seemed to dismiss them by putting the stethoscope into his ears to listen to Dennis’s heart and lungs, though she didn’t know how he could hear anything beyond Mr. Crawford’s coughing fit and labored breathing.
Anxious and worried, she couldn’t stand there watching Mr. Crawford suffer and not do something. Unable to help him directly, she tugged Jon’s arm to get him to come along with her to the reception desk so they could take care of the mundane while Dr. Holt took care of the emergency. “Hey, Ruth,” she said to the woman at the desk. “This is Jon Crawford. We just brought in his father, Dennis.”
Ruth smiled at both of them, at the same time typing on her computer. “We’ve got him in our system. Address on Pine Crest Road.”
Jon nodded, but kept looking back to the cubicle where his dad lay with an oxygen mask over his nose and mouth.
“Any changes in his insurance?”
Jon shook his head.
“Is he taking any medications?”
“Um, I think he takes something for cholesterol and high blood pressure, but I’m not sure what.”
“We’ll check his records.” Ruth handed over a clipboard. “Fill these out and bring them back.”
Trinity led Jon into the waiting room. “Sit. I’ll find us some coffee.” It wasn’t much, but she could at least do that.
Jon automatically sat and glanced at the papers, though he didn’t seem to read the words. He looked over at his father again and just stared.
She put her hand on Jon’s shoulder. “He’s going to be fine.”
“That’s what they said about my mom. Then, she was gone.” His gruff voice held a world of pain and loss that made her own heart heavy with sorrow. He didn’t look at her, but continued to stare at his father.
She squeezed his shoulder, trying to give him some comfort.
He looked up at her. “I can’t lose him. I just got back. It’s not supposed to be like this.”
“I know how it feels to realize you have no control over what’s happening. Your father is in the place he needs to be to get better. You’re here to look after him. That’s all we can do right now. Maybe it’s not as bad as we think. Maybe he just needs some medicine and time to recover from whatever is ailing him.”
“He looks like he’s been sick awhile. He’s lost weight. His color . . .”
“He’ll look much better once he gets more oxygen into him and he rests.”
Jon didn’t look convinced.
“Fill out those forms. I’ll be right back.”
He held her gaze. “Will you stay?”
She planned to even without the desperate and lonely look he gave her. “Yes. I want to be sure he’s okay, too.” She tried to get him to smile. “He’s one of my best customers. And he calls me sweet girl, which I love.”
Jon’s mouth twitched into an almost smile. “It’s what he called my mom, and now he calls Emmy that, too.”
“Well, now I feel a little less special,” she teased.
Jon shook his head. “He only ever called them that.” He met her gaze again. “And you.”
“Well, I make him double-chocolate brownies with almonds.”
“Not walnuts,” they said in unison.
This time, Jon did smile, and a funny thing happened inside her. A strange fluttery feeling lightened her chest, and she became all too aware that she still had her hand on his strong shoulder.
She pulled it away. “Uh, it’s probably going to be a long night. Coffee. On the way.”
Chapter Two
Jon watched the medical team work on his dad, drawing blood, checking his blood pressure, making sure he was getting enough oxygen, and whatever else they did, while the tension built in his gut, neck, and shoulders. Most of it was for news on his dad. And then she walked back into the room and an unexpected sense of relief and ease hit him.
She’d come back.
She held up two sandwiches in one hand. “Strawberry or grape?”
Surprised, he went with his favorite. “Strawberry.”
She slipped the bottom sandwich into his hand, sat beside him, put her sandwich on the coffee tray, and pulled a cup off for him. “Black.” She held up the little carton of milk. “Want some of this? Or sugar?” She dipped her hand into her purse and pulled out several sugar packets. “I only have the real stuff. You shouldn’t put chemicals into your body if you can help it.”
He plucked the milk from her hand. “This is fine.”
She dumped the sugar back into her purse, tore open her sandwich, and took a big bite. “Mmm.” She chewed and swallowed and glanced back at him. “Sorry. Long day. I barely ate. I thought you might like something. Comfort food seemed appropriate.”
“PB and J is comfort food?”
“Yes. It’s nostalgic. Brings you back to a simpler time in life.” She shrugged. “Besides, the cafeteria was closing, so it was this or I run over to my shop and make us something, but you asked me to stay, so here I am.”
That’s when it hit him.
Trinity made him feel like he mattered in a basic and simple way.
Him. A stranger to her.
He didn’t want to be alone, so she sat beside him eating her sandwich, drinking her coffee, not expecting him to talk or do anything for her. She was here for him.
And his father. He got that.
But still.
He had a lot of business associates and friends back in California, but only a handful who would really miss him and show up if he called. He’d miss them, and hoped that over the next weeks and months he’d reconnect with old friends and make new ones as he settled in at the ranch with his dad.
Stephanie, his ex and Emmy’s mom, would arrive tomorrow with their daughter, but she wasn’t someone he could rely on for help and support without there being strings—usually tangled—attached. They weren’t a good match.
“What do I owe you for dinner?” Well past seven, he was starving.
The disgruntled frown and side-eye told him she didn’t expect payment and took offense to him offering.
With Steph, it was always give me more.
He didn’t know what to do with Trinity’s generosity. And didn’t that tell him how much he needed to spend time with other women and stop letting Steph take up so much room in his life that she made him not want to put himself out there and get burned again?
“Eat. You’ll feel better.” She dusted off her hands and balled up the wrapper. “If you do, I have a treat for you.” She pulled two large chocolate chip cookies wrapped in plastic from her bag. “I keep a few of these with me for emergencies.”
“I have a stash of Cheerios and fish crackers in my car just in case.”
“Those are for Emmy, right?”
“She loves her snacks.”
“A girl after my own heart.” Trinity bit into the cookie, and her eyes rolled back in pure appreciation. “There is nothing better than dessert and coffee.”
He couldn’t remember the last time he took such pleasure in something so sim
ple.
He took another bite of the sandwich and let the taste take him back to the joy of opening his lunch box and finding his favorite meal packed by his mom. It made him miss her, but it also made him smile.
Trinity bumped her shoulder into his. “See. You remember.”
He did because of her. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” She handed over the cookie even though he hadn’t finished his sandwich yet. “He’s going to be okay.”
He didn’t know how much he needed to hear that, or understand why he believed her so easily, but the words and the certainty with which she said them had him relaxing into the chair and finishing his food.
“That cookie was amazing.”
“Thank you. We make them fresh daily.”
“Do you work at the grocery store or a restaurant? You said you delivered food to my dad.”
“We’re kinda in between a grocery store and restaurant. You can eat at the store, but mostly people come in to buy prepackaged meal kits or ready-made food that’s either hot or cold to take home, or back to their office.” She pulled out a to-go menu from her purse and handed it to him. “You can order online and pick up, or come in and shop.”
He checked out the items list and information about the store. It was a really cool idea. “I thought you said you deliver.”
“Not officially. We’re a neighborhood store, so we take care of our neighbors who are unable to shop for themselves—if they’re sick or housebound. Mostly for seniors.”
“My dad isn’t housebound.”
The defensive tone made her quickly explain. “He doesn’t like to drive as much anymore. Says his eyesight is going. I told him I’d take him to the optometrist, but he doesn’t want to put me out.” She bumped his shoulder with hers again. “Personally, I think he’s stubborn. And maybe a little vain about wearing glasses. But he needs to go, so I’ve been working on him. I actually have an appointment set up for him in two weeks. I figure it will take me that long to get him to agree to go.”
He turned to her and their knees touched. She didn’t move away, so neither did he. “How long have you known my dad?”
“Not long. We opened the store about a year ago.”
“And you’ve taken it on yourself to deliver food to him and make him eye appointments?” Jon got it. His dad probably loved her attention.
But why did she do it for someone she barely knew?
“Well, he doesn’t have anyone to help him, so I do.” She quickly added, “But you’re here now, so you might have better luck convincing him to take better care of himself.”
“I wonder if he’s dragging it out just so he can see you.” He’d probably do the same thing in his dad’s shoes. Something about her drew him in and made him want to get closer.
Look at him now. He’d asked her to stay with no real thought as to why he needed her to do so. He could take care of this on his own. He did most everything on his own.
But it was nice having her here.
Which made him think of how he’d found her, struggling to get his father into her car, and going into an all-out panic when he showed up, acting like he was going to stop her or something.
“What happened to you at the house when I drove up?” At the time he thought she’d ask him for help, but instead she’d wanted him to stay away from her.
“Oh, sorry. I just didn’t know who you were or what you were doing there. I . . . just needed to get Mr. Crawford to the hospital. That’s all.”
He didn’t think so, but didn’t push. She’d done him and his dad a huge favor. And in his mind, she might have saved his father’s life. He noticed the tremble in her hand, the long scar on her temple, and ignored those, too.
Down to the dregs of his coffee, he nearly dropped the paper cup when the doctor walked in. He quickly stood, eager to hear what he had to say. Trinity ended up right beside him a moment later.
“How is my dad?”
Trinity slipped her hand in his and squeezed. He held tight to her, hoping for good news, but preparing for the worst.
“Better. It’s a good thing you brought him in when you did. His oxygen level was dangerously low. He’s got a bacterial infection in his lungs we’re treating with antibiotics. We’ve moved him to a room upstairs. Third floor. We’ve got him on IV fluids for his dehydration. I hope to get him eating in the morning. We’ve given him some medicine to curb the coughing fits so he can get some much-needed rest. I expect in a couple days the antibiotics will kick in and he’ll feel much better.”
“You’re sure?” When his mother had been sick, they’d gotten similar news. They’d thought she’d be fine, but it all went wrong.
“Well, he’s very sick right now, but I don’t anticipate any complications, though they do happen.”
Trinity squeezed his hand. “Is Mr. Crawford resting now? Or can we go up and see him?”
“For a few minutes, but then I suggest you go home and get some rest yourselves. He should be awake and feeling better in the morning.”
“How long do you think he’ll need to stay in the hospital?” Jon needed to amend his plans. He should let Steph know what was going on, but right now he didn’t want the hassle of calling her. She’d take it as a sign he wanted something more. He didn’t.
And yet, here he stood with Trinity, holding her hand, the doctor talking to them like they were a couple or something, and it didn’t bother him in the least. He didn’t worry what Trinity thought about the hand-holding thing, other than she did it to offer comfort and he’d accepted that and didn’t expect anything more.
Strange.
And nice.
He could get used to nice.
“I expect he’ll need to be here at least two days, possibly three. We’ll see how fast he responds to the antibiotics. Do you have any other questions?” Dr. Holt asked.
“No. I think I’ll go see him now. Thank you for everything.” Jon held out his free hand and shook with the doctor.
Trinity tugged him to come along as she followed the doctor out of the waiting area and walked to the bank of elevators. She didn’t let go of his hand, so he held on to her. The connection helped him remain calm when he was really worried about his dad.
“Once you see him, you’ll feel better.”
“Are you always so optimistic?”
Something dark crossed her eyes but vanished just as quickly as he’d seen it. “I try to be.”
He wanted to know more about what was behind her reaction at his father’s place, that darkness in her eyes, and how she got the scar. Something happened to her. He wanted to know what.
And as they stepped into the elevator and rode it up in a comfortable silence, he realized he wanted to know everything about her.
He followed Trinity out of the elevator to the nurses’ station where she got the room number and led him down the row of rooms to his father’s. A nurse stood beside the bed, checking the machine next to him.
“Hi,” Trinity whispered. “This is Dennis’s son, Jon.”
The nurse finished entering something in her tablet, but smiled and said, “Your father is resting comfortably now. His oxygen levels have come up considerably. I’ll monitor them through the night.”
“Mind if we stay for a few minutes?” Trinity touched his father’s leg, offering him the same easy comfort she’d given Jon.
“Sure. Just don’t stay too long. He needs to rest right now so the antibiotics can do their job.” The nurse left them alone in the quiet room.
His father wore an oxygen mask, and his color looked markedly better. His breathing still seemed labored, but he didn’t cough uncontrollably or wheeze.
Trinity released him and went to his father’s side. Remarkably, he missed her hand in his. She leaned over and gave his father a soft peck on the forehead, and whispered, “You’re going to be okay, Mr. Crawford. You get better real soon, and I will make you a double batch of all your favorite things.”
He thought he saw his father’s
lips twitch into a slight smile.
He’d be smiling too to have a beautiful woman whispering sweet things to him while he was sick. The last time anyone had done that had been when his mom was alive and he’d gotten strep throat as a teen.
Trinity returned to his side and squeezed his arm. “I’ll leave you alone with him. Take your time. I’m in no rush.” She meant that.
So he waited for her to leave, even though he didn’t really want her to go, and approached the bed. He laid his hand on his father’s arm, then thought about how much it meant to have Trinity take his hand, so he slipped his hand beneath his father’s and held it. Not since he was a small boy had he held his dad’s hand, except for the occasional handshake in congratulations. The last time might have been the day Emmy was born and he’d gone out to the waiting room to tell his dad she arrived safely and absolutely perfect.
“Hey, Dad. I’m home.” He didn’t know that’s what he was going to say until the words came out, and they felt so right. “Emmy can’t wait to see you. Wait until you see how big she is now.” Unexpected tears clogged his throat and blurred his vision. “I’ve missed you, Dad. More than I realized. I need you to get better so you can come home with me. I told you I’d help you fix the barn and clean up Mom’s garden. You said you’d help me learn to be still again and not always on the run.”
He pinched the bridge of his nose and fought back the tidal wave of emotions.
“I met your friend Trinity. She’s . . . fantastic. She found you tonight.” And I found her.
He needed to take a breath after that revealing thought popped into his head.
“You’re going to be okay. Get some rest. I’ll be here when you wake up in the morning.” He held his father’s hand for a few minutes, letting the quiet surround both of them. He felt connected to his dad and gripped his hand with both of his to send him strength and remind him he wasn’t alone.
It took him another few minutes to finally be able to leave his father’s side.
Trinity stood with her back to the wall across from the door to his father’s room with her eyes closed and her hands against the wall behind her butt, elbows out.
She looked so serene.
True Love Cowboy Page 2