Cowboy Casanova (Wild At Heart Cowboys Book 3)

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Cowboy Casanova (Wild At Heart Cowboys Book 3) Page 9

by Charlene Bright


  She narrowed her eyes at him. “Have you had a conversation with Zoe I don’t know about?”

  He was confused. “Probably. We talked all the time before I got so busy. But not recently.”

  Tara shook her head, looking a bit flustered. “That’s odd.” She didn’t explain, and Dylan didn’t press the issue, feeling two pairs of eyes burning through the back of his head as Noah and Zoe stared at them.

  Resigned to explaining, Dylan turned to face them, relieved when Noah merely smiled and went about filling his plate while Zoe winked at him and nodded, doing the same. He knew there would be questions to answer later. Or maybe there wouldn’t. Hell, Zoe was nothing if not detail oriented, and she’d likely figured things out on her own and spent the last several hours talking to Tara about it. Obviously, whatever she’d said was supportive and not full of warnings. He couldn’t complain about that.

  But he could complain about not getting as much chance to spend time with Tara as he’d wanted. He shoveled in food, starving after working off so many calories with that damn horse. And Zoe tended to dominate conversation in any situation, which meant they spent the entire time discussing the future of the little girl growing in her belly.

  And after they ate, Noah insisted on getting out on the ranch and helping Dylan with a few minor repair and upkeep projects while he was around. That meant walking away from Tara again with a quick kiss in passing. To his credit, Noah didn’t grill him about the new development. He simply said, “Zoe seems to approve, so I hope things work out for the two of you. Tara seems like good people.” It could have been worse, especially after Noah had accused Dylan of sleeping with her.

  When Noah finally released him like some teacher ringing the school bell, he and Zoe said goodbye and left, but there was still no opportunity to be alone with Tara. Bill was awake, and he was in fine form, the fresh air and change in environment seeming to have brought him alive. He wanted to talk and talk and talk, and it was nearly two hours before Dylan and Tara could collectively convince him he needed to go home and rest and eat dinner.

  He would have been more than happy to have them both stay the night, but no one was prepared for that, and Bill had meds to take at home.

  “Will you be over tomorrow?” Tara asked, and he could hear the eagerness she was trying to douse. They still hadn’t exactly announced what was going on in front of Bill, and Dylan assumed it was an unspoken concern for how he would take the news. Would he want to fight harder to stay with them so they had a reason to be together, or would he feel like he was a burden in the way and give up? And what exactly was there to tell just yet?

  “I figured I’d stop and get the parts for the tractor and come make the repairs,” he said with a nod. “What do you think, Bill?”

  “Well, if I have to look at your ugly mug again, there better be a good reason,” he said with a teasing grumble. “Just don’t come too early. I have every intention of sleeping in, and even if my eyes pop open at five in the morning, I’m going to lay in that bed and pretend to sleep until at least nine.”

  Dylan laughed. “You’ll have to talk to your nurse about that, sir. I don’t know if she wants to delay your meds that long.”

  Tara wagged a finger at Bill. “No later than nine, young man, or you’ll miss your meds.” She turned to Dylan with a huge grin. “I swear, if he didn’t take meds, he’d get lazy and stay in bed all day.”

  “It’s fine,” Dylan chuckled. “I can’t get what I need until after nine anyway. The store doesn’t open that early.” But he would certainly be waiting to go in when the doors opened so that he could get to Tara and Bill as early as possible. It was already going to be a long evening. He rarely spent this much time on his own property, and just knowing that the house was going to stand empty waiting for him when he finished taking care of the rest of the ranch made him feel incredibly lonely.

  But he let them go, Tara telling him, “Promise you’ll be over tomorrow at least in time for dinner.”

  Dylan nodded, glad to have an invitation and relief from his loneliness in sight. As he’d expected, the empty house felt too large, and even the sound of his breathing echoed off the walls. He quickly headed out to the forest, ready to start splitting wood again to keep himself busy until after dark.

  It was strange how one short conversation that just happened to follow an incredible kiss could change everything. Two days ago, he’d questioned his choices but had still been perfectly content in his solitude. Today, he dreaded spending an evening alone and had to force himself to trudge back to the house when the sun went down and not climb in the truck. He wanted desperately to head over to Bill’s, but he refused to be codependent.

  A bit pitiful, he put together a plate of leftovers for dinner and heated it in the microwave. He ate without tasting and then took a shower, hoping he could sit down and lose himself in something on television. But his mind kept wandering back to Tara, and he imagined what it would be like to settle in on the couch like this with her beside him at night. To fall asleep with her in his arms when his head hit the pillow.

  But he had to resign himself to the need for patience. It was going to take quite some time to figure out if that was where they were headed. In many ways, he could be a very patient man, but in this situation, he could tell it wasn’t going to be his strong suit. A little frustrated, he leaned back and closed his eyes, not sure if he was ready to hit the sack yet but certainly in no place to concentrate on anything that was on television. And if he couldn’t watch something, he definitely wouldn’t be able to read.

  He was half tempted to go back out and find some work he could do until his mind was as worn out as his body, but considering the ache in his joints and muscles that was already settling in after being tossed to the ground over and over by Chase, he didn’t think his body would outlast his mind.

  For the first time in a long time, he got up, wandered to the liquor cabinet, and poured himself a finger of whiskey. He downed it and savored the burn in his chest as it made its way to his stomach. The warmth spread quickly through him, and he hoped it would take effect quickly. The single shot should be just enough to ease him into a gentle sleep, one that wouldn’t leave him groggy when he woke up early tomorrow morning.

  14

  Tara paced outside the door to the emergency room entrance, biting her nails. She’d broken the habit years ago, but she hadn’t faced anything this terrifying in her career. She’d lost patients, of course, but there had never been so much at stake.

  And it had never been such a sudden turn of events.

  She had called Dylan, not knowing what else to do, as the paramedics loaded Bill into the ambulance. She’d ridden with them, and more than once, they’d had to start CPR. He’d been fairly stable when they’d arrived at the hospital, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t a serious situation, since he wasn’t conscious. She ran her hands through her hair, which she’d barely been able to run a brush through before she’d heard the crash as Bill rolled out of bed.

  He’d hit his head, and it was bleeding, and he’d stopped breathing, his heart stuttering and trying to beat. Tara couldn’t imagine what had happened, considering he’d been given such a good outlook from the doctor just a couple of days ago. She hadn’t found anything wrong with his vitals over the past couple of days, either, and he’d been in a stellar mood. So, what had happened?

  She was on the verge of tears, something that never happened to her on a job. But a number of things played on her emotions here. She’d grown to be friends with Bill, which was her mistake, and because this was so unexpected, she felt a sense of responsibility, as if she were to blame for whatever had caused the episode. And if Bill died because of it, she would never forgive herself.

  But the added concern of losing Dylan—whether because she lost this assignment or because he was angry with her—added weight to all of it, and she couldn’t stop the first couple of tears that rolled down her cheeks. She was swiping at them in anger when Dylan came rushin
g toward her, and she fell into his arms as he wrapped her in a crushing embrace.

  “How is he?” he asked, not releasing his hold on her but leaning back to search her face.

  She hadn’t realized she was trembling until now. “I’m not sure. He was stabilized and breathing when we got here, but I haven’t heard anything since they took him back. I stayed here to be out of the way and to wait for you.” She gazed up at him, hoping he wouldn’t pass judgment. At least, not yet.

  He shook his head and stroked her hair soothingly. “I’m just glad you called me. Are you okay?”

  Was he really concerned about her? “I’m fine. I’m just worried. I don’t even know what happened, Dylan. I woke up, got dressed, and heard him fall out of bed. He wasn’t breathing, and he was panicking. I grabbed the phone and the oxygen mask, and I called 9-1-1 while I hooked him up. And then I called you.” She felt utterly lost, and she wanted someone’s support, but she didn’t think it was fair to look for that from Dylan, who wasn’t in any position to soothe anyone until he got a little relief.

  But to her surprise, he leaned in and kissed her gently on the lips, holding her close and then whispering in her ear. “You did everything right, and it’s the best you can do. Now, we just have to wait. It’s out of our hands.”

  Her lower lip quivering, she let her shoulders sag with relief. “I thought you’d be so angry with me.”

  “Why?” He looked perplexed. “Why would I be angry with you?”

  She swallowed a sob. “I’m supposed to take care of him, Dylan, and I failed. I don’t know what I did wrong, but there’s no reason he should have had an episode like this with his cancer under control.”

  But he was already shaking his head. “He’s never been better cared for, Tara, not even before he got sick. You didn’t do anything wrong. Things just happen sometimes, and there’s no explanation for it. You can’t take the blame for this. It wasn’t anything you did.”

  The words were nice, and at least it meant that he didn’t hold her accountable, but Tara wasn’t so sure, and she was going to wait for the official word from the doctors to figure out what responsibility she held in it all. For the moment, she let Dylan lead her to a set of chairs close by to wait, and she sat with his arm around her shoulders, holding her to his side protectively and almost possessively. It was comforting, and she knew she would have loved it under other circumstances. She took what she could from it now and tried to give back some reassurance with a quiet and gentle demeanor.

  She felt the tension in his body ease slightly, and it made her feel like she’d helped, even if it was just a little, and she glanced up at him. His face was a mask of fear, and she wanted to wipe that away. Unfortunately, she couldn’t get past her own fear.

  The doctor finally emerged from the room, and Dylan shot out of his chair, Tara hopping up with him anxiously. She let Dylan take her hand, squeezing it in support, as they met the doctor halfway. “Miss Shores.” The doctor gave her a nod, and then he turned and offered his hand to Dylan. “Mr. McDaniel, I presume. I’m Dr. Mason. The good news is Mr. Campbell is stable and he’s sleeping soundly. I think we’re through the worst.”

  She could feel the relief flood through Dylan’s system, and it resonated in her own chest. “What happened, Dr. Mason?” she asked, her voice weak and trembling.

  “We’re still trying to figure out what triggered it,” he said, frowning. “Since his throat was swollen almost shut, our first thought was that he had had an allergic reaction, perhaps to the new medication you told us he’d just started, Miss Shores.” Tara gasped. She hoped that wasn’t the case, since that medicine was supposed to increase his quality of life for longer. “But we tested that theory and found it to be unsubstantiated. He should keep on his current regimen for meds.”

  He cleared his throat and looked a bit concerned, which didn’t bode well for other findings. “Unfortunately, it looks like he’s got a pretty severe infection in his lungs, and some of his medical treatments have irritated that. I don’t want him going off the chemo drugs, but that means we’re probably going to have to put him through some rigorous rounds of IV antibiotics here, until we get it cleared up.”

  If that was all, it wasn’t nearly as bad as she had imagined, though the chemo drugs had weakened his immune system. Antibiotics could possibly negate the effects of those drugs, but receiving the medicine intravenously could help significantly reduce those negative effects. Dylan spoke before she could ask another question. “How long do you think he’ll be here?”

  The doctor shrugged. “He’s a strong man and a fighter. I think he’ll come through pretty well with very few side effects. Best case scenario, probably a week. That’s barring any and all complications. But since you never know what could come up, and I want to make sure all the bases are covered, I’d say to plan on two weeks.” He met Dylan’s eyes. “Are you able to arrange for all his affairs at the ranch to get taken care of? All his bills paid while he’s here? I don’t want any stress on him at all because that could make this more difficult.”

  “I got it taken care of, Doc,” Dylan assured him.

  Then, he turned to Tara. “I need you to register all his prescriptions, dosages, and timing with the nurse once he’s in the room so we can provide everything while he’s here. I don’t want to interrupt any of that or miss a single pill. And if there’s any dietary restriction, we need to know about that, too, so that we don’t end up with any interactions or anything that slows down the healing process.”

  She nodded. “I have the list in my bag back at the house. I can get it and bring it up here for reference, though I’m pretty sure I have it all in my head.” She just didn’t want to risk making a mistake.

  “I can drive you over,” Dylan told her, squeezing her hand again. “Do you think Bill will get to a room soon?”

  Dr. Mason shook his head. “No, I think he’s going to be here for a few more hours. We want to keep a very close eye on him for reassurance, but he’ll have a room by dinner. Take your time, collect yourselves. He’s in good hands, and since we’ve given him some sedatives to get him to rest, he’ll probably be asleep for several hours, probably till late this afternoon. So, do whatever you need to do, and come back later. I’ll be here all day. Ask for me, and I’ll give you the latest update, okay?”

  “Thank you, Doc,” Dylan said, shaking his hand again as he walked away to take care of the next patient. Tara waved her thanks and looked up at Dylan. “See? He’s going to be fine.”

  She didn’t want to burst his bubble, but as a nurse, she knew how touch and go this could be. Infections were very dangerous for most of her patients, whether they had cancer, HIV, or some other debilitating disease. Even lifelong diabetics suffered terrible complications from some bad infections, and she hoped the hospital was prepared to assure they were as careful as possible with Bill. They had to test frequently and take X-rays and CT scans to assure his cancer didn’t get out of control during all of this.

  She wanted to be able to share everything with Dylan, but now wasn’t the time for brutal honesty. Instead, she forced a smile and said, “It seems like the worst is over.” Taking a deep breath, she reached for his other hand and asked, “Would you mind dropping me back at Bill’s so I can grab my things? I’m sure you have things you need to take care of, but you were planning on coming for dinner anyway, so hopefully, we can meet back up here later.” She was anxious, but she wasn’t going to start making demands on his time.

  Instead, he told her, “I’ll stay with you. I can call my backups to make sure the few things at my place get done, and I can toil around Bill’s to make sure everything there is taken care of. And maybe, we’ll actually have a little time together.”

  It was a miserable situation to be in, but if he could find the silver lining, she wasn’t going to turn him away. “If you’re sure, I’m okay with that.”

  “Come on, let’s go. I haven’t had breakfast yet, and I think it’s time for you to experience the di
ner.”

  15

  Dylan wondered if he should feel guilty for taking advantage of a bad situation. After all, he was desperately worried about Bill. There was more to this whole incident than he understood; he could read it in Tara’s eyes when she had listened to Dr. Mason’s prognosis. Something about this infection was more traumatizing than it would be to anyone else. But he wasn’t going to press the issue. He was sure that knowing all the details would probably just freak him out.

  And he really wanted a chance to be alone with Tara.

  That wasn’t the best thing for a friend to feel, and he hated that he could be so selfish when his friend, who had a fatal ailment, was in the hospital. But he couldn’t remember the last time he’d had a truly selfish thought, and so he dismissed his guilt and gave himself permission to finally do something that would make him happy. Something that didn’t involve ulterior motives to do something nice for someone else.

  He called Noah as he pulled up to the diner, and he and Zoe were going to help out, getting some of the kids on board to take care of both ranches and the basic chores that needed to be done. All the animals would be fed and cleaned, the stalls mucked, and the pig sty cleaned. Zoe also demanded that Dylan bring Tara over for dinner the following night. He promised, conditionally, that they would come. It depended on how Bill was doing, and, he told Noah with a laugh, if there was a chance they’d be making another run to the hospital for Zoe to have the baby.

  “She’s got a week left in her, I think,” Noah chuckled. “Besides, she keeps telling me she wants to have the baby at home and then take it to the hospital to make sure everything’s all right. Maybe Tara could help us out.”

  “You’ll have to talk to her about that.” Dylan hung up, refusing to talk business at that moment. There were other things going on, and he was going to dive in. They enjoyed an intimate meal at the diner, discussing their childhoods and how very different and yet similar they were. It sounded like Tara had been a little grownup all her life, just like he had.

 

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