Carrie instantly melted into Wes, resting her head on his chest and wrapping her arms around his neck. “I think I just don’t feel very well.”
Instantly, the paddle was forgotten. Leaning back to get a better look at Carrie, Wes’ voice filled with concern. “Why didn’t you say so?” Wes asked.
“I don’t think that I realized it until now. I just thought I was grumpy.”
Carrie looked down at her abdomen. “There is this pain around my belly button, but I thought it was from the dress being too tight.” At the mention of the dull pain, it began to throb.
Wes investigated her abdomen gently with his fingertips. “Carrie, that looks swollen.” Feeling her forehead with his hand, Wes’ brow furrowed. “You feel warm, Carrie.”
“Do I?” The pain continued to throb and seemed as if to be moving along her side. Carrie suddenly felt weak, wondering how she had not noticed that she was ill.
“Hang on.” Wes gently placed her on the bed, with her head resting on the pillows. Replacing the paddle in the closet, then rummaging through drawers, Wes found an oversized tee shirt and brought it over to her. Unzipping the dress, he scooted it up and over her hips. “Arm’s up,” he said, and pulled it up over Carrie’s head, then replaced it with the soft, oversized tee. Covering Carrie up with the quilt that she had stolen from Mama’s house and slept with every night she’d been on the ranch, Wes tucked it around her gently. Standing above Carrie, Wes looked her over. Carrie could sense Wes’ panic.
Snuggling further into the bed, Carrie said, “I’m fine, Wes, it’s just a little stomach ache. I’ll rest just a few minutes and then we have to get going.”
Wes sat down on the bed next to Carrie, feeling her forehead again and brushing her curls back. “Oh, sweetheart,” he said softly, “you aren’t going anywhere.”
“What?” Carrie tried to sit up quickly, but the sudden movement left her clutching the right side of her belly and howling in pain.
“I’m calling Dr. Burton, right now.” Wes grabbed his phone from his pocket with one hand, and with the other helped Carrie to lay back down on the bed. “Hang on, baby,” he said as he pulled the covers back over her.
Lying on her back and trying to remain still, Carrie listened to Wes’ end of the conversation.
“Dr. Burton, hello, it’s Weston. I’m worried about Carrie.” He was stroking her hair and she gazed into his eyes as he spoke to the doctor. “She has a fever and her face is pale, but what’s concerning me is that she’s having stomach pain that’s severe enough it’s making her cry out. Uh huh, uh huh, just a second.”
“Carrie, where exactly is the pain?”
“It started at my belly button but now it’s on my lower right side.”
“Have you thrown up at all, or had any bathroom issues?”
“No,” she answered, gritting her teeth as another sharp pain hit her.
Wes relayed the information to Dr. Burton. “Let me see,” he replied into the phone.
“Carrie, have you had trouble, going number two?”
Feeling an intense, heated flush of embarrassment rise on her face, she could not answer the question. There were just certain things that a woman did not discuss with a man. She decided not to answer.
Placing the phone down so the doctor couldn’t hear, “Carrie Ann,” Wes said sternly but lovingly. “The doctor needs to know. It’s your body, nothing to be embarrassed by.”
“I haven’t been able to go for a few days. I keep feeling like I need to but then I can’t. My stomach has been hurting for weeks, actually,” she admitted sheepishly, “but I thought it was just from stress and nerves.”
Speaking to the doctor but never taking his eyes, or reassuring hand from her, Wes listened for a few moments, continuously stroking Carrie’s hair then said, “Yes, sir. We would appreciate it,” and hung up the phone.
“Baby, I’m going to need you to stay calm.”
Carrie furrowed her brow at Wes, “Why?” she demanded, willing herself not to cry out as another sharp pain stabbed at her.
“Because there is an ambulance coming here to pick us up. Dr. Burton thinks you have appendicitis and you need to go to the hospital to get checked out. He’s calling the ambulance for us and he’s going to meet us over at the hospital.”
“I’m not going to the hospital,” she cried. “I’m supposed to be planning my Mexico dream wedding.” Tears started to flow down her cheeks from the pain and disappointment.
“Shh, I know, baby. This isn’t what we planned, is it?” He kissed her head. “Let me just make a few calls to let everyone know what’s going on.” Wes sat, caressing her head with his free hand the entire time he spoke, his eyes never leaving her face.
Through the heavy fog, sounds could be heard. The steady hum of machinery. Clicking of high heels down a hallway. The faint murmuring of the mournful words, “Baby, stay with me.” Darkness.
It was all so clear to Carrie. Somehow, through the drug induced fog, the white lightning flashes of pain, the vague memories, and murmurs from loved ones, Carrie’s mind’s eye had shown her the very insides of her soul.
A child is never left at an orphanage to come through unscarred, even if chosen by the most loving family they could imagine. There will always be a nagging question in the back of their minds. Why? Why didn’t my parents love me enough to make it work, to keep me? What was wrong with me? What if I had been different, would they have kept me then?”
Hidden away, deep in Carrie’s heart, was the fear that she was absolutely, unequivocally, unworthy of love. She didn’t trust that someone could love her. For, after all, if the two people who were supposed to love her most of all in the whole world couldn’t find enough love for her, how could a stranger?
The running, the panic, leaving Wes. All the pain she had caused him, caused herself, it was all a blossom of the dark seed that had been planted within her at the moment of her abandonment. And she had hidden it, ignored it, making herself believe it didn’t exist when all along it was nurtured by her self-doubt, and continued to grow, never ceasing.
Trust. She hadn’t trusted Wes, just as he said. Because she was incapable of trusting his love for her. Not because of something to do with him. He was true, loyal, loving. An open book. It was because of this thing in her past, the secret that had festered while she played at ignoring it. And it had almost cost her a soulmate.
Through the fog, Carrie struggled to find her voice. “I want to be married, today.” Her speech sounded strange and weak in her own ears. Her mouth was dry as sandpaper and her tongue fumbled as she spoke. The answer was silence.
Then, the most important voice in the world came through. “Carrie?” Wes. He sounded tired, his voice gravelly. Carrie opened her eyes. The gray storm clouds met hers. They were filled with rain. Wes seemed to have aged, his face drawn tight, wrinkles around his eyes. He only looked even more beautiful in her eyes. Rough hands reached out and touched each of her cheeks. “Carrie.” He said her name like a prayer.
“I want to be married, today,” she repeated, more clearly this time. “Today.”
“Anything you want, baby. Just don’t leave me again.” Suddenly, Wes’ body wracked with sobs. The soft waves of his hair brushed against Carrie’s arm as Wes leaned his head against her and wept.
“I’m not going anywhere, Wes.” The click of the machine brought back on the fog and Carrie felt a smile reach her lips as she went under.
The doctor’s words swirled, continuously around her mind as she slept. A ruptured appendix can lead to death in some cases. Left untreated, peritonitis can quickly spread, resulting in septicemia, or bacteria in the blood.
Your body releases chemicals into the bloodstream to fight this infection, triggering an inflammatory response throughout the body called sepsis.
A cascade of reactions will follow, eventually causing septic shock, which includes severely low blood pressure, and can ultimately lead to multiple organ failures and, in the worst-case scenario, deat
h.
Lucky. That was the word she heard most often. Lucky to be alive. And didn’t she know it? Carrie sat up in her hospital bed, suddenly awake. The days had turned to weeks, but it was all a blur for Carrie. She was finally strong enough to get up and move around for a few minutes each day. Carrie was almost back to her old self, though with a lot less energy. She had enough fight left in her to be demanding, even for a tiny person who was practically strapped to a bed.
“Today is the day,” she told Wes again, with as much authority in her voice as she could muster. “I feel better and I want to be married today.” Wes smiled. The fatigue and worry were slowly leaving his face, but the graveness remained.
“Are you sure, Carrie?”
“I’ve never been so sure of anything in my whole life.” Carrie reached out and squeezed Wes’ hand.
“All right then. Get some sleep. Be a good girl and do what the nurses tell you, and I’ll see what I can do.”
“Thank you, Wes. You go on, I’ll be fine.”
Wes’ response was the simple raising of his brow. Carrie knew he was going nowhere until she was sound asleep. Smiling, she relented and curled up against his strong forearm that lay in the bed with her, both of her hands holding his.
When Carrie awoke, it was to an entirely different scene and mood. Every open surface in the room was covered in vases of red and white roses. Jessica, Ray and Evan all stood in one corner of the room, Ray holding Evan who was tugging his beard and laughing. Her parents, who had been staying on the ranch the past few weeks and visiting every day, stood by her, smiles on their faces. Mama and Wes sat at Carrie’s bedside, Wes’ hand holding Carrie’s. There was a man in a suit that she didn’t recognize, hovering by the door.
As Carrie sat up, something pulled at the back of her hair. She raised her hands and gently patted the top of her head, Carrie smiled at Jessica as she recognized the feel of gem stoned hair combs holding a veil in her hair. She also detected the taste of lip gloss on her lips. Jessica must have tried to use a little makeup to salvage what she could of Carrie’s sickly complexion. Jessica returned the smile with a teary wink.
“You look beautiful,” her mother whispered to her.
Carrie turned to Wes and realized she had overlooked one tiny detail. Everyone, from her parents, to Jessica, to Ray, to Mama, to Wes, even baby Evan all wore hospital gowns, over their clothes, that matched hers. Carrie laughed out loud at the sight of them all in their light blue, flower stamped, hideous get ups.
“I hope you don’t mind,” Wes said, gently. “When the nurses said getting you into a wedding gown would take too much of your energy, we all agreed we wanted to match with you.”
“It’s perfect,” Carrie replied, with tears in her eyes. “And all these roses?”
“Those are from the hospital staff.” Wes nodded his head in the direction of the window to the room that faced the hallway of the hospital. There stood a group of nurses in scrubs, standing in a clump, waving to Carrie with huge grins on their faces. Carrie waved back.
“When they heard we were getting married today, the flowers just started showing up,” Wes said, his voice betraying his emotions.
“It was so touching,” Mama said, dabbing her eyes with a tissue.
“And we brought the ring bearer,” Jessica said, holding Evan up. Around his neck, he wore a string with two silver bands hanging from it.
“And this is the hospital Chaplin, Mr. Roberts,” Wes said, gesturing towards the man by the door. He is licensed to perform marriages in the state of Texas. We will make it legal, later, when you can get to the courthouse, but this ceremony makes us as official as any other couple in my eyes.”
“Hello,” Mr. Roberts remained by the door but gave Carrie a friendly nod.
“Hello. Thank you for coming on such short notice, sir.” Carrie turned to Wes, “And the rings?” She looked at the beautiful silver bands tinkling as Evan pulled on the string.
“Oh those,” an embarrassed flush came to Wes’ face. “I bought those in Mexico, the same day I got your necklace. I wanted our wedding bands to be from the place we honeymooned.” Wes and Carrie exchanged a smile that only they could understand. The memories from their trip would carry with them the rest of their lives.
“Honeymoon before the wedding? That’s unusual,” Mr. Roberts interjected. “But I guess nothing about these circumstances are usual.”
“We had some things we needed to work out,” Wes replied casually. “A little premarital therapy, I guess you could say.” Wes turned to address the group, “Ready?” Everyone nodded and the nurses moved closer to the window. Looking at Carrie, he squeezed her hand gently and whispered, “Ready, Carrie girl?”
“Ready,” she smiled, giving his hand a return squeeze.
“Then let’s begin.”
December had come once more, and Wes’ Christmas wish had finally come true, he had his wife. Mama’s wish was going to come true, too. She was getting a big spring wedding on the ranch, just not her son’s. Ray and Jessica were going to tie the knot, Lonestar Cattle style, in May. Jessica had her healthy baby boy who was one-month shy of celebrating his first birthday. Even Garrett was doing well. Wes had spoken to him the night before last, and it sounded like he was making positive steps towards changing his life.
Wes watched as Carrie stood pointing at the tree she wanted, demanding that Wes cut it down right away before someone else got to it.
“Please, Daddy, I think, is what you meant to say,” Wes said, wrapping his arm around her and kissing her cheek.
“Now, Daddy,” Carrie said, looking anxiously over her shoulder in case there were any Christmas tree snatchers lurking behind her.
Wes’ hand landed on Carrie’s bottom with a, ‘smack,’ that was loud enough to turn a few heads.
“Ouchie,” she whispered, harshly, rubbing her bottom. “That hurt.”
“How do you ask, Carrie girl?”
Looking up at him with her chocolate brown eyes shining, she said, “Pretty please, Daddy,” in her very sweetest voice.
“That’s better,” Wes said, smiling. He took the handsaw to the trunk and pulled back and forth until the little tree started to teeter. Carefully tipping it out of the way, the tree landed with a gentle thud.
“Now, get it up and let’s get it over to the tree shaker thingy so we can get the loose needles off,” Carrie said, pointing towards the entrance of the tree farm. “It’s a few weeks until Christmas and I don’t want needles dropping all over the floor.”
Glad to see her back to her full health, Wes smiled at Carrie’s vivacious energy. The pink was back in her cheeks as she bounded across the place out of excitement. Carrie might even have more energy than she did before the illness, a dark time that Wes did not like to think about very often. The memories still woke him up from a dead sleep, soaked in sweat, remembering the fear of losing Carrie.
“Still forgetting a word, little girl.”
“Ugh,” Carrie stomped her foot. “Can’t you just let me boss you around for once?” Her hands went to her hips, her face looking cross.
Putting the saw down, Wes took a step towards Carrie and placed his hand on the back of her neck, and pulled her ear towards his mouth. “Who’s the boss around here?” he asked with a growl, tightening his hand in her hair and grabbing her bottom, hard, with his other hand.
“You are, sir,” Carrie replied, changing her tune and squirming against his hold.
“I think it’s time to introduce you to your paddle.” Due to the busy events of the past year, Carrie’s Christmas paddle still sat, unused in the closet. “You are getting too big for your britches, sassy girl,” he said, then released her.
Flushed, Carrie stepped back, gathering herself. She smoothed her hair down and put on a smile. “Can you please shake my tree in the tree thingy, Daddy? And buy me a hot cocoa, with whipped cream, and sprinkles?”
“Don’t push it. Be sweet and we’ll see about the cocoa, but you are still getting your bottom
paddled.” Wes picked up the saw in one hand and the trunk of the tree with his other. “Let’s go get your tree shaken out.”
It had been a long time since Wes had spanked Carrie, too long. After she was sick, there was a recovery period. Wes was almost afraid to touch her. But months had gone by and as Carrie’s energy increased, so had her willful spirit. Carrie’s strong will was one of the things Wes loved most about her, but if left unchecked, it would wreak havoc on their relationship. Slowly, Wes had been reincorporating domestic discipline in their relationship, and it was time to get Carrie back over his knee on the regular. That much was becoming clear.
Once the tree was shaken, wrapped with netting, and safely tied down in the back of the truck, Wes buckled Carrie in, then went to the booth to get her the hot cocoa that she required. Returning to the truck with a paper cup, brimming with whipped cream, he handed it to Carrie, to which she replied, “No sprinkles?”
It was definitely time to get home and take that paddle down from the wall.
Carrie sat nervously on the bed, Wes could feel her eyes watching him as he brought down the paddle from the closet wall. Gently placing the implement on the bed next to Carrie, Wes pulled a chair over and sat across from her.
Placing his elbows on his knees, he leaned in towards her. “Now, we’ve got to get something straight, little miss. I am so happy to see you healthy and recovered. But the sassy attitude has to stop.” Wes looked at Carrie, hard.
Squirming under his gaze, she crossed her arms over her chest. “Yes, sir,” she murmured.
“Now, I think the best way to get right back on track, is also the only way that has ever gotten you back on track. And what is that, Carrie girl?”
Sighing, Carrie uncrossed her arms, crossed her legs, and fidgeted with her hands.
Wes placed his fingertip underneath Carrie’s chin and tilted her face up towards his. “Answer me.”
“Spoiling?” she asked, looking at him from underneath her lashes.
Forever Daddy Page 14
