by Lori Foster
Tash and Mike left the barn, where they’d just put down fresh straw. Both men looked good sweaty, though she’d never tire of seeing Tash like this. Here, with her.
Damn it, she more than anyone else knew he had a life in town, complete with a nicely remodeled house.
Autumn blew out a breath.
Her life was here, on the farm, and his life was there, in a close neighborhood where Sadie could make friends—and so where did that leave them?
Standing at the pigpen, Autumn idly sprayed down Olivia and Matilda while the pigs wallowed in their play. A short distance away, Sadie leaned against the fence talking to Tracy the cow, the goat and sheep. Pavlov lolled on his back in the sun beside Sadie.
Her gaze went back to Tash, and she watched him swipe a wrist over his brow. The insufferable heat wave had passed, but the highs remained in the upper eighties, and the sun was bright in the cloudless sky.
With the pigs taken care of, Autumn headed out to join Sadie. Along the way, she saw Ember pull up. Mike strode to the work truck she’d driven, opened her door and pulled her out for a long kiss.
Shaking his head and grinning, Tash started her way but got intercepted when her mother came out with a tray of canned drinks and a bottle of water.
She and Tash seemed to get along really well. He’d found a rapport with her mom that eluded Autumn.
And why did that make her weepy?
Huffing out another breath, she turned away and continued toward Sadie. For whatever reason, she felt extra uncomfortable today, like her feet were cement blocks she had to drag along. Too hot, too listless and her nose itched. Bleh.
She didn’t have time to be down. Tomorrow was stacked with appointments and she’d be starting two new jobs in the next town over.
Before Autumn reached Sadie, her mother called to her. Stifling her automatic groan, she lifted a hand to shield her eyes, looked back and waited.
Picking her way along in delicate slippers inappropriate to the uneven land, her mother said, “Not another step, young lady.”
What now? Autumn disobeyed and covered the five steps necessary that put her under a scraggly tree and minimal shade.
Her mother, dressed in a loose hot pink tank top and yellow capris, didn’t pause until she was right in front of Autumn, then she thrust the tray at her.
“Hold this.”
Left with no other option, Autumn quickly took it. Only the bottle of water and a juice box remained, obviously drinks for her and Sadie. For some reason, it felt too heavy today. “I’m sure Sadie will appreciate—”
“Hush.” Her mother put the back of her hand to Autumn’s head, then tsked. “Just as I thought. You’re feverish.”
“I’m not,” Autumn denied, mostly because she couldn’t be sick. She didn’t have time! “It’s just the sun on my face—”
“I looked out the window,” her mother interrupted, “and the second I saw you, I realized you were ill. Mothers always know these things.”
Ember joined them. “Know what?”
“Autumn is sick.”
Ember’s brows went up and she gave Autumn a thorough inspection. “You know, you do look a little putrid.”
She did not need Ember encouraging their mother. With a shut up glare, Autumn growled, “I’m fine.”
Folding her arms over her impressive bosom, her mother gave her the look, one she’d been giving Autumn since she was two. It was the exact expression that reprimanded, challenged and declared victory all rolled into one. “Fighting it won’t make it not so. Do you want to get Sadie sick? You need to go take a cool shower, some ibuprofen, and then you need to rest.”
“Mom,” Autumn complained, looking past her and Ember to where Tash was heading toward them. “I have stuff I need to do.”
“Mike and I will get it done,” Ember said. Then she, too, felt Autumn’s forehead. “Dang, you’re burning up. Why the heck didn’t you say something?” Before Autumn could figure out how to silence her sister, Ember turned and bellowed to the guys, “Autumn’s sick!”
Short-tempered—maybe because she did feel like crap—Autumn shoved her. “Why the hell did you do that?”
Her mother said, “Girls, behave.”
Sadie leaned into her, her arms going around Autumn’s hips. “You’re sick?”
Too quickly for Autumn to reply, her mother snatched Sadie back. “Keep your distance, sweetheart, or you’ll catch it.”
“Mom...”
As Tash closed in on them, his eyebrows together in a worried frown, her mother warned him off, too. “No closer, Tash. Who knows if she’s contagious.”
Oh, for the love of... “I don’t have the plague!”
“Tracy,” Tash said, his tone firm, “would you mind taking Sadie up to the barn to drink her juice?”
“I’ll bring the cow,” Ember offered, which got Sadie’s immediate agreement.
Pavlov looked from one human to the other, his loyalties divided.
“Ember will handle it,” Tracy said, taking back the tray. “I need to get this one off her feet.”
“Allow me.” Tash put his arm around Autumn and urged her forward. “Honestly, honey, you do look exhausted.”
“Not putrid?” she asked with a dirty look at Ember.
“Only a little.”
Well...then maybe she did. “Mom’s right. You should steer clear. If I do have a fever, you might catch something. Worse, if you get it, Sadie might, too.”
“We’ve already been around you, so the damage is done.” He gave her a slight hug. “Besides, I’m not about to budge.”
Autumn had no idea what to say to that.
Giving up, Pavlov trotted after Ember, Sadie and Tracy the cow, while her mother issued orders to one and all.
“Poor Pavlov wasn’t sure where to go,” Tash noted.
“He loves everyone, but his instinct is to stick to Sadie. He adores kids.”
“And other animals.”
“Yes.” Pavlov was the very best welcome committee for the injured or homeless pets they brought to the farm.
“And you,” Tash said. “I’m surprised he didn’t insist on sticking with you, since you’re not feeling well.”
“He’ll show up,” she predicted. “Throughout the day he checks on everyone.”
Tash smiled. “He really is remarkable.”
Her mother caught up with them and handed Autumn the water. “You have to stay hydrated.”
Odd, but for once the mothering felt nice. Gawd, I really am sick. “Thanks, Mom.” She tipped up the bottle and drank a third, yet still felt thirsty.
With Tash half supporting her and her mother clucking out her worry, Autumn finally made it to the house, where she promptly collapsed onto the couch with no immediate desire to move a single inch.
“This won’t do,” her mother said. “You need medicine, a cool shower, a change into more comfortable clothes and then a nice long nap.”
Tash crouched in front of her. “You have aspirin in your medicine cabinet?”
“Yes.” She closed her eyes against the pounding in her head, but still said, “Thanks.”
As Tash walked away, her mother plopped down beside her, making her bounce. Gently, she smoothed back Autumn’s sweaty hair. “Such a warrior,” she teased. “Don’t fight it, honey. We all need a little help now and then.”
Autumn got one eye open to peer at her. She couldn’t recall ever hearing that particular tone from her mom.
“I promise,” her mother continued, “you’ll feel much more comfortable if you just follow my directions. I’ve been caring for you for a very long time, you know, and look at how you’ve turned out.”
Autumn blinked. “Is that an insult or a compliment?”
Thinking she was joking, her mother laughed. “I don’t mind saying, I’ve obviously done som
ething right.”
A compliment, then. “I... Thanks, Mom.”
“Let me help you with your shower, then you should sleep.”
Her mother helping her shower? A horrible prospect. Absolutely not.
Luckily, Tash reentered. “I’ll see to her, Tracy.” He handed Autumn two pills and the water. “Would you mind keeping an eye on Sadie for an hour or so? Maybe you could show her the best way to draw farm animals. She’s been practicing, you know.”
One brow arching, Tracy said, “I know exactly what you’re up to, young man.” A smile softened her expression. “And I heartily approve. Come get Sadie whenever you’re ready, no rush at all. We’ll be in my kitchen drawing pig snouts and goat hooves and turkey feathers.” She patted Autumn on the head, embraced Tash and all but danced out.
When the door closed, Autumn turned to Tash, her eyes wide. “That was weird.”
He grinned. “Your mother is more astute than you realize. So what do you think? Are you able to shower?”
“Of course.” But, oh, it sounded like a terrible challenge. With some obvious effort, she forced herself to sit forward. “You don’t need to babysit me, I promise.”
Catching her arms, Tash gently brought her to her feet. “I’m where I want to be, so stop trying to throw me out.”
She glanced at the door again. Closed but not locked. “You know, you’re a little sweaty.” And they actually had a small amount of time alone. Surely she could muster up some energy. “Did you want to shower, too?”
“With you?” Smiling, he brushed his knuckles over her cheek. “Probably not a good idea. I want you too much and I won’t be able to keep my hands to myself if we’re both naked.”
Eh, she didn’t blame him. After all, according to her sister, she didn’t look her best.
“Your mother’s right, you know. You need some rest. Maybe even a trip to the doctor.”
“No.” They headed to the bathroom. “I’ll probably feel better tomorrow.” Sleep, she’d discovered, was an incredible cure-all.
Unfortunately, as she showered she grew more depleted, her legs shaking and her eyes half closing. She felt foolish when Tash helped her change into a big sleep shirt and panties, then practically tucked her into her bed. Once her head hit the pillow, it was all she could do not to drift off.
He kissed her forehead. “I’m going to check on Sadie. Sleep if you can. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
That was the last she heard for hours. When she awakened again, it was dark out, her house quiet, and Pavlov slept over her legs.
The second she moved, so did the dog. Elated, he reared up and barked.
Though still sluggish, Autumn managed a smile. “Hello, to you too, Pavlov.” Oh, good grief, she croaked like a frog. Now that she’d heard herself, her throat felt like sandpaper.
Pavlov army-crawled up the bed until he could snuffle against her neck.
Forcing her limp arms to comply, she hugged him, doing what she could to reassure the dog that she was fine.
Footsteps sounded in her hall and a second later, Tash stepped in. He was still here? A glance at the clock told her it was after eleven.
Pushing up to sit against the headboard, she swept her gaze over him. He’d showered and changed into...sleep pants and a white T-shirt?
Was he staying the night then?
“Hey, you.” Striding in, he sat on the side of the bed and put a palm to her forehead, then her cheek. “Still feverish. Think you can swallow more aspirin?”
“Um...”
He winced. “Losing your voice, huh? Throat hurt?” Taking a bottle of water from her nightstand, he unscrewed the cap and handed it to her. “Be right back.”
Thoughts muddled, she watched him go, but he returned in seconds to hand her the pills.
Since she really did feel wretched, she swallowed them quickly, cleared her throat and stated the obvious. “You’re still here.”
“Hope that’s okay. I brought over my laptop and was doing some work. I knew Pavlov would let me know when you woke.” He stroked the dog. Pavlov loved it.
“Sadie?”
“She spent the night with Ember, who for once is right next door instead of in Mike’s loft. Actually, Mike is right next door, too, sleeping on the couch so Sadie could share the bed with Ember.”
It took her a second to process all that, and then Autumn whispered, “Wow.” It seemed she’d caused a lot of trouble for everyone.
“Your mother called the family doctor, but apparently a nasty virus is going around. Fever, headache, exhaustion.”
She had all three. Ugh.
“He said if you’re not better in a week—”
“A week?”
“—or if your fever gets too high, then you should come in.”
No way could she miss an entire week of work. She’d not only fall behind, but she’d also lose the new jobs and that would affect the upkeep of the farm. “I have appointments tomorrow—”
“Ember called and canceled for you.”
Autumn was so appalled, no words came to her.
“She also went to the store with Sadie. They got you Popsicles, fresh crackers and ginger ale. Does any of that appeal?”
Her lungs finally filled with a necessary breath. “Ember went to the store? For me?”
“For you.” He smoothed the sheet around her shoulders. “Also, your mother made you soup. She said it was your favorite.” His smile sent flutters to her stomach. “I take it you don’t get sick very often, because it puts everyone into a tailspin.”
“I never get sick.”
He cupped her cheek and gave her a level look. “You’re sick now.”
Of all the rotten luck...
Mistaking her frown, he said, “I hope you don’t mind that I’m staying over. Your mother wanted me to carry you to her place—”
“What?”
“—because she didn’t want you to be alone, but Flynn’s wheelchair works better at their place. Ember insisted she’d stay with you instead. Mike’s concerned, as well, so he manned up about it, but I thought he might end up on your couch and that seemed like more confusion than you needed.” Tash spread his arms. “So you have me, and I hope you’re not going to object because I figured I was the better alternative.”
He was the best alternative always, in every situation. “I don’t want to get you sick.”
“Given we’ve been together all week, the doc said that’s not likely. If I was going to get it, I already would have.”
“Sadie...”
“She has a medical mask to wear if she comes in to say hi.”
A mask. Wow. “I detest being a bother.”
“I’m not bothered,” he insisted, “and all I saw with your family was caring and concern.”
Autumn rubbed her temples and sighed. “Thank you. You’d think I was at death’s door or something.”
“No, they just love you and they’re not used to seeing you down.” Another tender smile. “How do you feel about eating?”
He kept looking at her, his expression warm and...nurturing? She imagined he looked at Sadie like that, and it naturally made her rebel. “I’m a little hungry.” She’d slept right through dinner and even illness didn’t quell her appetite. “I’ll just run to the john and then I can get some soup or something—”
“Autumn.” He stopped her as she swung her legs over the side of the bed. “I’d really appreciate it if you let me help you.”
“Help me in the john?” Mortified, she shook her head. “I can handle it on my own, thank you.”
The smile cracked into a grin. “Help you to the john, and then I’ll heat your soup.” While her face burned, he continued. “You feel like eating in bed or at the table?”
“Table.” She wasn’t used to being a slug and felt ridiculous already. “Seri
ously, I can make it on my own.”
When she stood, Pavlov also left the bed, standing alert at her side, watching to see what she’d do next. True, her legs were shaky and she wasn’t quite up to straightening her shoulders, but neither was she an invalid.
“All right.” Hand on her elbow, Tash followed her to the bathroom door. “I’ll get the soup ready. Yell if you need me.”
Pavlov looked between them, undecided, then sat down to await her.
Tash patted his head. “Good dog.”
Sadly, by the time she’d finished, washed her hands, splashed her face and hobbled into the kitchen, she was shot. Her legs felt incapable of supporting her a second more. With Pavlov sticking close, she slumped into her chair and breathed in the scent of her mother’s homemade chicken noodle soup.
Crazy how comforting that smelled, taking her back to her youth.
Seeing her settled, Pavlov went out the doggy door, no doubt for his own bathroom break. He returned a few minutes later, got a drink, then collapsed with a huff at her feet. Like her family, he wasn’t used to her being sick.
Standing at the stove, Tash continually stirred a big spoon around in a pot. “Your mom said I couldn’t microwave it. It has to be heated the old-fashioned way.”
Her mom probably knew how insanely sexy he’d look standing there in his sleep clothes, stubble on his face, his hair disheveled. In fact, she was starting to wonder what her mom didn’t know.
At the other end of the table, he’d left his laptop, a few folders, and some scattered papers. It hit her like a ton of bricks. “I’m interrupting your work.”
“I was just about done, anyway.”
Given what she saw, she doubted that. To her it looked like he’d been elbow-deep in a project. She hated to be a burden, but what could she say? He looked determined to stay, to pamper her. And honestly? She wasn’t sure she’d make it back to the bed on her own.
For a brief moment, she wondered what Ember would do. Her sis was well used to men fawning on her, but she also personified independence. How to show Tash her appreciation while freeing him from obligation? Or should she even try?
In the end, she didn’t say or do anything except concentrate on staying upright in her seat.
