His Touch

by Patty Blount

  Kara spread her hands. “No! She was fine all day, until dinner. Then she started coughing and had a runny nose and acted strange. I gave her some cold medicine before bed.”

  “Strange, how?”

  “She didn’t want me to put her down. She’s not usually a cuddler.”

  “When did the breathing issues begin?”

  “She woke up about twenty minutes ago, barking like a little seal. I ran the shower but the steam didn’t help. When I saw her hands go blue, I called 911.”

  “You did the right thing, ma’am,” the paramedic reassured her. He unzipped his bag, pulled out a pediatric oxygen ball valve mask and handed it to Reid.

  Reid gently placed the mask over Nadia’s nose and mouth and began rapidly squeezing the ball. The baby made a small protest and that started another coughing fit.

  The other paramedic shook his head. “We need to transport. Now.”

  “What is it? Oh, God! Please. Is she okay?”

  “Sounds like croup, probably spasmodic,” the nice paramedic replied. “Your daughter’s airway is swelling shut. We need to transport her immediately to the emergency room for intervention.”

  “Okay. Okay. God. Yeah. Okay. Right.”

  Kara stood up, ran to the bedroom, came back with a bag and began stuffing things inside it. Blanket, phone, keys, Nadia’s favorite Teddy bear. The paramedics packed up their gear, scooped up the baby, and moved for the elevator. Reid clicked the mic fastened to his shirt, began transmitting their patient’s vitals. “ETA, eight minutes.”

  “Ambulance 6, acknowledged.”

  With their tiny patient safely aboard their rig, Reid continued to squeezed the bag over Nadia’s nose and mouth while the other paramedic drove, lights and sirens on. Beside the stretcher, Kara watched, crying silently. Reid cursed. “Ms. Larsen. Kara! Look at me.”

  Kara raised damp brown eyes to his and instead of the annoyance and disgust he’d shown her earlier that day, she saw kindness.

  “She’ll be fine. She needs some albuterol, maybe some epinephrine, and she’ll be just fine.”

  Kara shook her head. “She…she wasn’t even sick. How am I supposed to know? Something was off today. I knew it, but I didn’t know what and I nearly lost her.” She pressed a hand to her mouth and squeezed her eyes shut.

  Reid kept pumping air into the baby’s lungs with one hand, gave her mother’s hand a squeeze with the other.

  The rig turned sharply and slowed to a stop. Nadia started to fight against the mask over her face.

  “Hello, little Miss Nadia,” he said, smiling down at her. “Remember me?”

  She reached up a pudgy hand and patted his face.

  “Oh, you do remember me. That’s a good girl.” The back door opened and together, he and his partner directed the stretcher out of the rig and into the Emergency Room. Nadia was getting increasingly more restless and frightened. “Kara, sit up here and hold her. Try to soothe and calm her down,” Reid ordered.

  Kara sat on the bed, reached for her daughter as Reid transferred her from the stretcher, still pumping fresh air past swollen tissue. “Okay, baby. You’re okay now. Look! What’s this?” She took her cell phone out of her huge bag and let the baby play with it.

  His partner whistled from the nurses’ station. “Bennett. Ready to roll. Come on.”

  Kara froze. Leave? No! He couldn’t possibly leave her alone. Not now. She knew what he thought of her. She knew he thought she didn’t deserve Nadia and he was right. But right now, she didn’t care. All she knew was that she was completely, one-hundred percent, unable to take care of Nadia by herself.

  A nurse took the mask from him. He turned to leave and before she could think twice, Kara flung out a hand, gripped his wrist. Shook her head.

  “Ms. Larsen?” Reid tugged his arm but she only tightened her grip.

  “Please. I…I can’t. I just can’t.”

  The paramedic whistled again. “Bennett!”

  Reid glanced back at Kara Larsen, put up a hand. “Yeah. Just a minute!” he called back. “Ms. Larsen, I need to get back to work.”

  Kara bit her lip, shut her eyes. “Of course. I’m sorry. I know you have things to do, but please. You can’t leave me with her. I don’t know what to do. I don’t know what’s wrong with her! What if I make another mistake and it kills her?” She was babbling. She was almost hysterical. His muscles tensed under her hand and she knew she was clutching him hard enough to bruise but didn’t care. All that mattered was Nadia.

  Nothing else.

  “Ms. Larsen. Kara! Look at me!”

  Kara blinked up at the man who held Nadia’s life in his hands.

  “You got anyone you can call?”

  “Oh. Yeah. Sure.”

  With a nod and a tight-lipped smile, he took out his own cell phone, exchanged it for the one Nadia was now waving around like a rattle. “Go ahead and call. I’ll stay with you until they get here.” Kara took her phone and dialed Elena, but Lucas answered.

  “Luke?” Kara’s voice cracked. “It’s Nadia. She’s having trouble breathing. No, not yet. We’re waiting for the doctor now. Yes. Yes, please! Thank you. Thank you. I love you, too.”

  “Nadia’s father?”

  What? Oh. For a second, Kara thought Steve was there. “No, no. Lucas is my sister’s husband. They’re on their way.”

  Reid only stared at her. “Shouldn’t you call Nadia’s father?”

  Kara shook her head before he finished the sentence. “Nadia’s father took off the second I found out I was pregnant. I haven’t talked to him since. I’m not even sure he knows he has a daughter.”

  “Gah,” Nadia said under her mask and Reid smiled down at her.

  Kara gasped. Reid Bennett had a beautiful face when he wasn’t scowling. He caught her staring at him and she noticed she was still clutching his arm. She coughed, removed her hand like it burned. “Oh. Um. Sorry.”

  “It’s my job.”

  “Oh. Right. Of course.”

  A woman wearing a lab coat over scrubs walked in.

  “Doctor Warren. Patient is Nadia Larsen, eighteen months old, twenty-two pounds,” Reid gave his report as soon as the doctor reached the bed. He caught his phone before Nadia chucked it to the floor.

  “Mom, hold her still, please,” Doctor Warren ordered while aiming a light into Nadia’s mouth. The baby gagged on the tongue depressor and started to cry in earnest. Kara struggled to hold her still and steady but Nadia seemed to suddenly have eight arms and legs.

  “Nadia, no.” Reid’s firm voice did the trick. The baby stared at him, but stopped fighting. He held down her legs while Kara restrained her hands so Doctor Warren could finish her examination. With their heads bent over Nadia, Kara noticed Reid had a day-old growth of stubble on his cheeks that did nothing to hide the sharp cheekbones and cleft in a strong chin. Now that he wasn’t scowling, she could tell his eyes weren’t brown as she’d thought. No, they were green with specks of gray and maybe even a bit of gold and—

  Oh, God, they were pinned to hers. She looked away, at the strong hands holding her daughter. He had huge hands, but they were gentle on her daughter’s soft skin and for that, she was grateful.

  It took nearly thirty minutes for Elena and Lucas to arrive. By that time, Nadia was sleeping, a mask strapped to her face administering steroids.

  “Kara! Oh, honey.”

  On jellied legs, Kara stood up to grab her sister in a fierce hug. “I’m so glad you’re here.”

  “Of course.” Lucas squeezed her hand on his way to Nadia’s bed. He curled one limp hand around his finger, a muscle in his jaw twitching. “I’ve never seen her so still. Even when she’s sleeping, she’s active.”

  Laney’s lip quivered. “Oh, Kara. What’s wrong?”

  Reid cleared his throat. “She’ll be fine. A bad case of croup. The doctor sedated her. They’re giving her nebulizer treatments. Steroids will open the airways, get her breathing normally again. You’re in for a long night, but she’ll be
fine.”

  Kara stepped away from her sister’s comforting hug and held out a hand that still trembled to Reid. “I know what you think of me. But thank you. For saving her. For staying with us.”

  He squirmed, shifted, made a few non-committal sounds and nodded. He took a few steps, halted and then turned back, thinking of the grandmother Nadia had never met.

  Help her, his brother had said.

  He had and hoped it was enough.

  Chapter Five

  ‡

  Reid saved the report he’d typed up, shot it to the printer and yawned. Night shift sucked. He grabbed the print-out and stood. “Okay, Jay. I’m out.” He shook hands with Jacob, handed him the print-out.

  “Yeah, thanks for the help tonight. Can I buy you breakfast before you grab your train?”

  Reid thought about that for a moment. He didn’t have a train to catch. He lived in a dump not far from the fire station. But he’d been up since early yesterday morning. “Rain check? I need to crash.”

  “You got it. Thanks again, man.” Jacob held up a hand and Reid left the office, grabbed his gear from the locker, and headed to the street. Before he reached the exit, Carrie, the administrative assistant called out.

  “Bennett! Hold up.”

  Reid turned, waited for her to catch up.

  “Your CPR class the other day. You had four people not complete it?”

  “Four? No. That should be three.”

  The assistant shook her head. “Gene told me about the three women who confused this station with a singles cruise. But I also show insufficient rating for a…” she checked his clipboard. “Kara Larsen.”

  “No, that’s an error. Kara Larsen completed the course.”

  “Do you remember her ratings?”

  Reid hesitated a second too long. “Uh, yeah. She completed the infant section with an eighty percent and the child section with a ninety.”

  The assistant gave him the side-eye and slapped the form into his hand. “Retest her.”

  Reid sighed. “Yes, ma’am.” He stuffed the form in his duffel bag and took off, stopping in his favorite coffee shop for a cup of liquid fuel. He slung his bag back on his shoulder, turned a corner and almost collided with…

  Kara Larsen.

  “Sorry, sor—oh. It’s you.”

  The flat tone had him holding back a smile. “Ms. Larsen. How’s Nadia today?” From the flat hair and purple circles under her eyes, Reid figured it had been a rough night.

  “Better. My sister is staying with her today while I—”

  “Let me guess. Off to get your nails done?” He glanced at her hands, spotted the short, bare nails. “Or maybe another shopping trip?”

  Her eyes narrowed and she stepped around him. He changed directions, fell into step beside her. “You didn’t answer my question.”

  “No. I didn’t.”

  He laughed. “Okay. Look. There was a problem with your test yesterday. You have to retake the class.”

  She skidded to a stop and faced him. “I what? No. Out of the question. I don’t have time for more of your Dating Game contestants.”

  He almost snorted. Dating Game. How old was this woman? “Okay, okay. How about if I meet you and just redo your test so you can get your card? We can even do it while your daughter naps. Shouldn’t take more than twenty or thirty minutes.”

  She turned and walked away, heels stabbing the pavement with sharp clicks. She was wearing heels today. And looked damn good in them, not to mention the power suit that skimmed her curves.

  In two strides, he’d caught up to her. “You sure it’s a good idea to leave a baby who’d almost stopped breathing?”

  She halted and spun so fast, she damn near cut his cheek with a whip of her hair. “The hospital released my daughter, which I have to believe they wouldn’t have done if she were still at risk. I left her in the extremely capable hands of her godmother while I keep an appointment that may very well allow me to keep my job. So if you’ll excuse me.”

  Keep her job. Reid suddenly remembered she was a single mother. What kind of guy leaves a woman who’s pregnant with his kid? Swallowing back his opinions of this guy, he shook his head. “I can’t excuse you. I’m sorry. I have to retest you.”

  Kara’s face was flushed with color and Reid had to admit, it suited her. With a loud sigh, she pulled out her always handy cell phone and checked her calendar. “This afternoon. Two o’clock.”

  He almost winced. Technically, that would be like four or five AM for him. “Fine. I’ll be at your place around two.”

  She nodded. “Here’s my address—”

  “I’ve got it. It’s on your registration form.”

  “Make it three o’clock.”

  He raised his cup to her in a toast. “Have a good day.”

  *

  A good day.

  Yeah, sure.

  Since Nadia’s birth, Kara typically did what she had to do and fell into an exhausted sleep each night only to repeat it the next morning. She didn’t notice good days from bad.

  Until now.

  She’d had all of two hours of sleep and was on her way to meet Ronald T. Saxon, the biggest client of her career and didn’t care whether she signed him or not.

  No, that wasn’t true.

  She couldn’t lie to herself. Of course she cared. Just not as much as she should, given her position. She knew how lucky she was. She was well-educated, her professional reputation was solid and afforded her luxuries like being able to cut back on her hours, work from home whenever she needed, and even say no to certain assignments. She hated herself for this, but she couldn’t say no to Saxony House.

  And that only shined a brighter light on all her shortcomings as a mother.

  She walked into the lobby, barely nodded to the security guard and rode the elevator to her floor. Deep in her spiral of self-flagellation, she barely acknowledged the greetings called out from colleagues and settled in her office, pulling up specs and background information and her notes—such as they were, given everything that had taken her focus off this particular client.

  She rose, fetched coffee and skimmed the notes, but her attention kept wandering to green eyes and stubbled cheeks.

  “Kara, are you—Oh.” Mr. Drew opened her office door and frowned at her. “Wow. You look terrible.”

  Stung, she managed a tiny smile. “Words every woman longs to hear.”

  “Sorry, sorry. Are you okay?”

  Tears almost drowned her but she managed to stop the deluge. She shook her head. “I called 911 last night. Nadia turned blue.”

  “My God, Kara. What happened?” Her boss shut the door and took the seat near her desk, his handsome face creased with concern.

  “Ah, croup, they told me. They kept her until about six this morning, gave her steroids and nebulizer treatments. She’s with my sister now.”

  Mr. Drew angled his head and studied her for a long moment. “Kara, do you want this client? Be honest. If you don’t, I can—”

  A wave of tears pressed on the dam she’d erected but she swallowed and held up a hand. “Mr. Drew, I do want this client. But the timing—”

  “I understand. We’ll tell Saxon the truth. He asked for you by name. If he’s unwilling to wait, then—”

  Gratitude rose up along with the tears and Kara trembled. “Thank you, sir.”

  A knock on the door interrupted them. Tracy opened it and escorted Ronald T. Saxon inside.

  “Mr. Saxon. Welcome.” Mr. Drew extended a hand. “This is Kara Larsen.”

  Ronald T. Saxon was not what Kara had expected. She’d expected old money and an upper crust accent and privilege. That’s what her research had shown. But he was younger than she expected; no older than fifty. He wore slacks and an untucked shirt, sunglasses tucked carelessly into the open V at the neck. He had a full head of silver hair with a trim beard. He grinned and shook her hand. “Kara, it’s great to finally meet you. You have quite a reputation.”

  Stunned, Kara s
tuttered. “Oh, um. Well, that’s flattering.”

  He shook his head. “Flattery’s usually false. That wasn’t.” He sat down at one of the chairs in front of Kara’s desk, put a cardboard tray of Starbucks in front of them. “I bought four regulars. Help yourselves.”

  Already at ease, Kara did. She stepped around to her chair and realized she really did want this client. She would find a way to make this work. While Kara and Mr. Drew sipped from the cardboard cups, Mr. Saxon pulled out a tablet and set it on Kara’s desk. He tapped the screen a few times and a photo appeared.

  It was of a child. A little girl, not much older than Nadia, sitting in a wheelchair. Beside her was a model dressed as a cartoon princess. The child smiled like it was Christmas morning but the yellow tinge to her complexion made it clear she was critically ill.

  “This is Marnie. She’s my neighbors’ little girl. They’ve got four children. The oldest is the same age as my son. I’ve known these folks for a long, long time. When Marnie was about three, she was diagnosed with a rare disorder.” Mr. Saxon frowned at his coffee cup for a long moment. “I won’t bore you with all the medical jargon but the net-net is Marnie died shortly after this picture was taken.”

  Kara swallowed hard. Her emotions were already hovering way too close to the surface. Looking at pictures of a little girl who’d never grow up after spending the night in the hospital while her own daughter struggled to breathe was simply too much. Her eyes slipped closed and Mr. Saxon continued.

  “After Marnie passed, we found out that a promising drug therapy might have saved her but it was mired in miles of government red tape. I want to fund research into treatment for kids like Marnie, get them access to the things that work as fast as we safely can.”

  “The foundation you want to establish,” Kara said.

  “Yes. Marnie’s Love.”

  Kara smiled. “Okay. Tell us how you envision this foundation and how you’ll grant funding.”

  Mr. Saxon dipped back into his case and pulled out a folder. “I’ve already spoken to my lawyers and set aside the funds for initial start-up costs, licenses and fees, and recruiting my board. Kara, I’ve heard you’re heavily involved in the September’s Families Guild. I want Marnie’s Love to operate on a similar basis.”