“It’s a lot to deal with. Some people have to work stuff out on their own before they talk to others.”
George nodded. It didn’t mean he had to be happy about it.
“Any sign of the ex?” Chris asked as Adrian walked in. Adrian grabbed a drink from Chris and perched himself on one of the stools to hear the answer.
“Not so far. The cops found a cigarette butt they’re testing. I hope they put him behind bars.”
“Is he likely to go after Elle?” Adrian asked.
George rubbed his eyes. He was more used to late nights than Elle, but he was tired too. “I hope not. I’m going to ask her to stay with me until it’s sorted out, but I’m not sure she’ll agree.” He felt so helpless. If only she would trust him and trust herself.
Adrian watched him for a moment. “You’re really serious about her, aren’t you?”
“I’d marry her in a heartbeat if she’d have me.”
Chris whistled. “Congratulations, man.”
George scowled at him. “It would be better if she loved me as well.”
“What’s not to love?” Chris asked. “You’ll win her over in the end. Look at me and Imogen. I’m wearing her down day by day. I’ll have her agreeing to marry me by the end of the year.”
George couldn’t help smiling at his friend. At least Chris knew Imogen loved him. Her issue was she wanted a little bit of independence before she committed. Not that she and Chris didn’t spend almost every night together anyway.
George paused.
Maybe that’s what Elle needed as well. Some time to show herself she could make it on her own. But damn, she’d left Dean six months ago and she was doing fine.
He followed his friends outside, pausing at the door to adjust to the wave of humidity that struck him. He put his cold drink to his forehead and looked around for Toby.
The boy was still running around but his face was as bright as a tomato.
Grabbing a bottle of water from the ice tub, he trotted down the steps. “Toby!”
Toby didn’t hear him.
George moved to intercept him. “Hold on a second, kiddo,” he said, grabbing Toby and motioning for Kate to stop.
Toby blinked and brushed his sweaty bangs back. “I’m playing, George.”
“I know, but you need to have something to drink before you keel over.” He uncapped the bottle and passed it to Toby.
Toby took the bottle and drank half of it in a couple of gulps. He handed the bottle back to George and made to run off again. George stopped him.
“It’s time to play quietly for a while,” he told both Toby and Kate. “It’s too hot to be running around like this.”
“All right, George,” Kate said. “Come on, Toby, we’ll do something else.”
Toby took a couple of steps toward Kate and then stopped, swaying. “I don’t feel so good,” he said and promptly threw up.
Chapter 18
Fear choked George’s heart. He put his hand on Toby’s back to find the kid’s shirt was soaked with sweat.
And his forehead was hot to the touch.
“Kate, go and ask if Imogen has a thermometer,” George barked, running his hands over Toby’s arms. They were dry.
“My head hurts,” Toby whimpered. He started shaking as if he was crying but no tears came out.
Hell. George had seen these symptoms at Adrian’s concerts when fans had overheated in the crowd. Heat stroke. He needed to get Toby cool.
Quickly he swept the boy up in his arms and hurried him inside. “Wake Elle,” he told Imogen as she handed him a thermometer.
In the bathroom he placed Toby on the ground and put the thermometer under his tongue. “Keep it there for a minute, kiddo,” he said, then grabbed a hand towel and soaked it in water. He ran the towel over Toby’s arms, neck and forehead and then checked his temperature.
A hundred and four.
George turned on the shower and lifted Toby under the cold water. The boy didn’t protest.
Elle rushed into the bathroom. “What’s going on?” She took one look at Toby and demanded, “What happened?”
Toby reached for his mother and sank to the floor, weak.
George heart raced. “We need to get him to the hospital,” he said. He grabbed Toby out of the shower, wrapped a towel loosely around him and carried him to the front door. Luckily there was no one parked behind them.
“What happened?” Elle asked again, her voice frantic.
“Heat stroke. He’s been running around since we got here,” George said as he opened the car door and put Toby on Elle’s lap. He raced around the other side of the car and started it. “I gave him something to drink and told him to take it easy but he threw it up.”
Hell, he should have stopped him sooner. It was hideously hot today. He should have considered something like this. How could he be so stupid?
He drove in record time to the nearest hospital and parked in front of the emergency room, Elle nursing Toby on her lap.
Together they raced inside and, after explaining to the triage nurse, were rushed straight to a bed. The nurse packed cold packs around Toby’s groin and under his arms while another tried to get him to drink something. He refused.
Calling over a doctor, they arranged some IV fluids.
Elle held Toby’s hand while George stood back helplessly. It was his fault. He should have been keeping a closer eye on Toby. He’d promised Elle he would.
She hadn’t so much as glanced at him since they came in.
He wanted to wrap his arms around her and tell her he was sorry, tell her it was going to be all right, but every ounce of her body language screamed leave me alone and he honestly wasn’t sure if Toby would be.
The boy lay limp in the bed, his skin was flushed and he was panting.
The nurse checked his temperature. A hundred and two.
It was coming down.
Slowly.
The nurse had turned on a fan and was alternating between spraying him with a mist of water and wiping over his arms and legs with a damp cloth.
A few minutes later the nurse checked his temperature again. A hundred and one.
“Toby, how are you feeling?” the doctor asked, checking his responses.
“My head hurts,” he whimpered.
“We’ll get you something,” the doctor promised. “Can you drink something for me?” He held up a cup with a straw in it.
Elle took the cup from the doctor. “Here you go, Toby. It’s even got a straw for you.”
Toby opened his mouth and let Elle put the straw in. Then he sipped the drink.
“Good boy. I’ll get you something for your head now.” The doctor injected something into the IV fluids.
The nurse checked his temperature. Ninety-nine.
George heaved a sigh of relief.
Turning to Elle, the doctor said, “He’s going to be fine. You did the right thing by getting him to the hospital so quickly. I’d like to keep him for a little longer for observation.”
“Thank you.” Elle’s face was blank with relief.
The doctor left the cubicle and the nurse removed the ice packs from Toby’s underarms and groin. Elle picked up the damp cloth and wiped his face.
“Feeling any better, Toby-boy?” she asked softly.
“A bit,” he said.
George stepped up to the bed. “You gave us quite a scare,” he said, running his hand over Toby’s arm. His skin was so much cooler.
Toby closed his eyes.
Alarmed, he said, “Toby-boy, don’t go to sleep.”
He opened them again and frowned. “I’m tired.”
“You need to wait until the doctor says it’s OK to sleep.”
He pouted and George was pleased to see it. It meant he was feeling better.
The nurse came back in and checked his vitals.
“Is he allowed to sleep?” George asked.
“Sure. We’ll need to wake him to check his vitals, but if he’s tired he can rest.”
Toby snu
ggled down in his bed. “Night, Mom. Night, George,” he said and went immediately to sleep.
Elle turned to him for the first time. “There’s no need for you to stay, George,” she said, her voice cool. “We’ll be fine now. You should go back to the party.”
Fear gripped George. He had never heard such a tone from her. “I’m happy to stay,” he said. “I care for him too.”
“I don’t want you here,” she said.
The look she gave him pierced his skin, made panic rise in his chest.
“Please, Elle. I’m so sorry. I love Toby like he was my own. I never meant for anything to happen to him.”
Elle flinched.
Hell, he hadn’t wanted to tell her like this but he would. He had to make her understand. Taking a step closer to her, he said, “Elle, I love you. I love you and Toby so much. It’s killing me to see him like this.”
Elle gaped at him and then shut her mouth with a snap. “You need to leave.”
She’d shut down completely, blocked him out with words and actions.
He hadn’t realized it could hurt so much. “Please.”
Elle turned away.
He wanted to take her into his arms, shake her, demand she listen to him, but it would only make matters worse. He ran his hand over Toby’s forehead, then bent down and kissed Toby’s forehead. “Get better soon, kiddo,” he said.
Then he turned and left the hospital, leaving his heart behind.
***
Elle didn’t watch him go. Her whole body was stiff, and tingled as if an army of ants were crawling over her skin.
George said he loved her.
How could he say that, use that, when her baby had almost died? Did he think she would fall for his lie and it would make everything better? What a time to say it, when her mind was a whirl of fear. He couldn’t possibly mean it. She’d made it clear she didn’t want a relationship, that Toby was her priority.
Damn, she couldn’t deal with that right now.
She turned back to her baby, who was sleeping peacefully, though still a little flushed. The IV stuck out of his arm, reminding her of what had happened.
She’d been so stupid. She’d left Toby in George’s care while she’d slept. It had been selfish of her. She should have taken care of her boy, rather than giving in to her exhaustion.
She shouldn’t have left him alone.
The terror of seeing her baby wet and weak under the shower still encased her heart, no matter what the doctor said. She wouldn’t fully relax until Toby was running around again, demanding to play with his cowboy.
She pulled up a chair to the bedside. She held his hand, and stroked his hair. She had to touch him to convince herself he was still alive, that he was cooling down.
Elle didn’t move from his side. Her little boy was so small in the bed, so frail. She’d been woken from the deepest sleep, then left hurrying to keep up, to figure out what the hell had happened while she’d been out. All she really knew was Toby had been fine when she’d left him.
And needed the emergency room when she returned.
How could that be love?
***
George arrived back at Imogen’s house but hesitated at the door. He didn’t want to face anyone, didn’t want to deal with the festivities – he just wanted to curl up and forget about the world for a while.
But he needed to be sensible, sort things out. That was his role in any crisis. Firstly he had to get Elle’s things for her. They’d driven off in such a hurry she’d left her bag behind.
While he stood deliberating at the front door, his mother came into the house from the backyard and saw him standing there.
She hurried toward him. “Is he all right?” She opened the screen door and put a hand on his arm.
All of the fear he’d been holding inside broke free at her touch. “He’s going to be fine,” George whispered as the tears ran down his face.
“Oh, my poor boy. It must have been terrifying for you.” She bustled him into the living room and made him sit on the sofa. She sat next to him and pulled him into a hug.
For the first time since he was a child, George cried in his mother’s arms.
***
It was some time later that the sound of a phone ringing brought George back. He wiped the tears from his face and sat up.
It was coming from Elle’s bag.
He grabbed the cell and answered it. It was the guy from the glass company.
“We’ve found a panel of glass in the warehouse that will fit the shop front. Would you like us to come and install it now?”
George needed to do something, anything to rid himself of this hollow ache inside. “That would be great. I’ll be there as soon as I can.” He hung up.
“What was that about?” Marla asked.
“Elle’s shop was broken into last night. We think it was her ex. He made a real mess of the place and broke the front window. That was the glass company. They came out and boarded up the window last night, but they’ve found a piece of glass that will fit and are willing to come and do it now.” He found the café key in Elle’s bag.
Marla patted his hand. “Your father and I can meet them there. You should be with Elle and Toby.”
George ached. “She doesn’t want me there.” His voice was dull.
His mother gaped at him. “Does she blame you?”
“I was supposed to be watching him. I should have stopped him running sooner.”
“Any one of us could have stopped him. None of us realized how hot he was getting. It is not your fault and I won’t have you taking the blame for it. It’s bad enough Kate thinks it’s her fault. I explained it to her like I’ll explain it to you. It was an accident. It happened very quickly.”
George would have loved to believe her, but he couldn’t. “I’d better go and talk to Kate.”
“Wash your face first,” his mother said. “Then we’ll work out what we need to do next.”
***
George took a deep breath before he went outside. His mother had already been out to tell everyone Toby was fine.
Imogen came up to him and gave him a hug. “Is there anything we can do?”
George didn’t want to spoil her party. “I was going to ask Libby to drop Elle’s bag off at the hospital. I’m going to meet the glass company at the café.”
“Are you going to clean up?”
He nodded. Hopefully Elle wouldn’t mind, hopefully she wouldn’t see it as him taking control again. He just couldn’t sit around doing nothing.
“I’ll come and help,” she said.
“Imogen, you’re in the middle of a party.”
She shrugged. “No one will mind if I duck out for an hour or two.”
“You don’t need to.”
“I want to,” she said. “Elle’s my friend too. Besides, weren’t you the one to suggest the demolition party for me?”
When she’d first bought her house it had been in need of some serious renovating. He’d suggested a demolition party and Chris had arranged it, with a whole heap of people coming over to help rip out and clean up what needed to be done.
Before he could protest further, Imogen clapped her hands together. “If I could have everyone’s attention for a minute,” she said. “As Marla mentioned, Toby is now fine. What you don’t know is, last night Elle’s café was broken into and damaged quite badly. The police have cleared her to go in and clean up, but she’s obviously going to stay with Toby. George and I are going to go over there and make a start. Help yourself to food and drink and we’ll be back in a couple of hours.”
“Can I come?” Kate asked, glancing at Adrian and then George.
George could tell from her expression she was still upset and worried about Toby, but he wasn’t sure the café was the right place for her. “I was going to ask Libby if she could take Elle her bag. Maybe you could go with her.”
Libby stood up. “Sure.”
“I’ll help you clean up,” Adrian said and Chris agr
eed.
“So will we,” Marla said speaking for her husband.
In all six people decided to help clean up the café, including some of Imogen’s cousins. If they could get everything cleaned before Toby got out of the hospital it would be one less thing for Elle to worry about.
And another way to apologize for his mistake.
***
“How are you?” The quiet question caused Elle to look up from Toby’s sleeping face. Libby and Kate stood there with her bag.
Elle forced a smile to her face. “I’ve had better days.”
“Is he OK?” Kate asked, staring wide-eyed at her friend.
“He’s going to be fine,” Elle told the girl.
Tears welled up in Kate’s eyes. “I’m so sorry, Elle. I didn’t know that could happen. I should have made him stop running, or got him a drink – like George did. I didn’t mean to hurt him.”
The sorrow on the young girl’s face was heartbreaking. Elle stood and hurried over to give her a hug. “It’s not your fault, sweetheart. It wasn’t your responsibility.” It had been George’s.
“I should have noticed he was getting hot.” The words were muffled against Elle’s chest.
“No one noticed,” Elle said.
“Except George,” Kate said.
Elle stepped back, frowned. “What do you mean?”
“George stopped us playing, made Toby have a drink. When Toby was going to run off again, he said we had to stop running and do something quiet in the shade. That’s when Toby threw up and he carried him inside.”
Elle sat back down again. Had she been too quick to blame George? Was it her own guilt about not being there that made her lash out at him?
“The glass company called,” Libby said, giving Elle her bag and a hug. “George has gone to the café to let them fix the window.”
The café. She’d forgotten all about it.
“He didn’t need to do that,” she said. They’d said they didn’t have glass the right size.
“George needed something to do. He was pretty shaken when he got back to Imogen’s,” Libby told her.
Elle closed her eyes. She hadn’t given a moment’s thought to how George might feel – she’d been so caught up in her own fear. She’d lashed out and been cruel to him. He didn’t deserve it.
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