“Are you saying you have regrets?”
“Would I do it differently if I could?” He shook his head. “I don’t know. Knowin’ what I do now, yes, I think I would. I retired a few years ago, as you know, and I was livin’ alone on a ranch on the western slope. Life was good. Peaceful. But I can’t tell you what a glow Amber has brought to my life. I’m giving her away at her wedding Saturday, did you know that? I’ve only been her father for two months and she’s lettin’ me have that honor.”
Sam nodded.
Thunder continued, “People, son. Family. Those are the precious things in life. If you think you love this woman, this woman who gave birth to your child, you owe it to yourself to give it the shot it deserves.”
“What if it doesn’t work?”
“There are no guarantees in life. You know that better than anyone, being a bronc buster. There’s no guarantee you aren’t gonna bust a rib or worse when that stud bucks you off.”
Sam nodded. The man was right.
“So my advice to you is to go get her.”
What about Duke? Sam opened his mouth to say as much, when Dusty came rushing in.
“Sam!”
“What is it?”
“Sydney just called.” Her eyes filled with tears. “They’ve taken Duke to Denver to the hospital.” She doubled over, her breath coming in rapid puffs.
“Take it easy, darlin’,” Zach said, helping her to the couch.
“What, Dusty? What’s wrong with Duke?”
Zach looked up, his eyes sober. “They think he might have leukemia.”
Chapter Eleven
Sam drove to Denver at top speed. When he reached the hospital, he parked quickly and ran inside.
Roy was waiting in the emergency room waiting area. “Carrie and Syd are in with him. His fever’s come down quite a bit, thank God, and he’s much livelier now.”
That’s a good sign, right?” Sam said.
Roy shook his head. “Hell, I don’t know. I wish I knew what was going on. My little boy has a fever and some bruises, and all of a sudden we’re talking about the C word? I can’t deal with this. Four days ago I didn’t know who his biological father was, and now I find out leukemia runs in the family.”
“Leukemia isn’t usually hereditary,” Sam said. “At least that’s what they’ve always told us. It was just bad luck that both Ma and Dusty got the same disease.”
“Yes, the doctors here have assured us of the same thing. Still, Doc Larson seemed very adamant that we bring Duke in tonight once he found out about your mother and your sister.”
“Doc Larson’s a small-town doctor. He’s a good man, but he probably isn’t up to date on his research. Plus, leukemia is highly curable.”
“But your mother…”
“She didn’t make it.” Sam gulped. “But that was a long time ago. Treatment is better now. And look at Dusty. She’s healthy as a horse.”
Carrie came out white-faced. “They’ve drawn all the blood. It’s going to take a few hours to get the results. Hello, Sam.”
Sam stood. “How is he?”
“He’s better.” Her face was streaked from tears. “Sydney is sitting with him now.”
“May I see him?”
“He doesn’t even know you,” Carrie said.
“Carrie,” Roy said, his voice soft yet stern. “He needs to see the child. Try to understand.”
Carrie nodded. “Go on in.”
Sam walked into the room and the sound of childish laughter was like a symphonic concerto to his ears. Duke was laughing. Sydney, her face swollen and puffy, her brooding dark eyes sunken, smiled at the little boy. SpongeBob SquarePants played on the television.
“Hello,” Sam said.
Sydney looked up, startled. “Sam.” She wiped her nose. “Hello.”
“How’s the little fella doing?”
“He’s actually doing better. We’re just waiting now.”
“Your mom told me.”
“Who’s that, Sassy?” the little boy asked.
“Sweetie, this is a good friend of mine,” Sydney said. “His name is Sam.”
Sam smiled and walked forward, holding out his hand. To his surprise, the boy took it, shaking like a man.
“I hear you’ve been a little under the weather,” Sam said.
“Yeah. They poked me and took blood out of me.”
“Well, that didn’t bother a big boy like you, did it?”
“Nah. Mama and Sassy cried, but I didn’t.”
Sam ruffled Duke's hair—hair so like his own. “So what’s on the tube?”
“Duke’s favorite,” Sydney said. “SpongeBob.”
They watched television for a few minutes, saying nothing, until Roy and Carrie came back into the room. “Sydney,” Roy said, “you take a break for a while. Mom and I will stay with Duke.”
Sydney nodded and stood up. She glanced at Sam. Was he supposed to go with her?
Fine.
“Good to meet you, Duke,” he said. “I’ll be back to check on you later, okay?”
“Okay.” The boy smiled.
Sam’s heart melted. His son was a beautiful child. He had to be okay. He just had to be.
Sam wasn’t sure what to say, how to act around Sydney. One look at her and he knew he loved her. Feelings didn’t turn on and off like a water faucet. No sirree. And something else was evident as well. This woman loved her son—her brother—however she thought of him.
This was killing her. As much as it was killing him.
“You want some coffee?” he asked.
She nodded. “Sure.”
“Go on and sit down in the waiting area. I’ll go get it.”
Sydney took his arm. “No. I’ll come along with you if you don’t mind. I just can’t sit anymore. I feel like I’m just sitting around waiting for bad news. I hate it.”
Sam nodded. His gut clenched and he felt helpless, as he’d felt so many times before in similar situations. He knew how Sydney was feeling. He’d done his share of waiting around with Dusty for results. It was damned hard.
They walked out of the ER and through a walkway that led to the regular hospital. That area was quiet. It was late, and visiting hours were over. Sam scoped out the coffee shop.
“Damn. It’s closed.”
Sydney let out a huff of air. “Just my luck.” She leaned against a wall next to a supply closet. “Sam?”
“What?”
“Would you please hold me?”
He wanted to hold her until the end of time, but what good would it do?
God, I love her. Love her with all my heart. But he could never be with her.
Yet she was still the mother of his child, and she needed comfort.
He took her in his arms and held her body close.
She was tall, nearly six feet, he guessed, and fit perfectly against his own six-feet-three-inch frame. Her ample breasts pressed against his chest. How good it felt to hold the woman he loved.
The woman he loved and could never have.
She let out a sniff. “I’m so scared, Sam.”
“I know, sweetheart. I’m scared too.”
“How are we supposed to get through this?”
He shook his head. “I don’t know. You just do, I guess. I remember waiting around with Dusty for blood tests. Wanting to do something but knowing I couldn’t do anything. Wishing it were me instead of her. It’s horrible.”
“That’s just how it is.”
“I know, and I’m sorry you have to go through it.”
She lifted her head and gazed at him, her dark eyes sunken and sad. “You really do know.”
“Yes.”
“You poor thing. God, you poor thing!”
“It’s okay.”
“No, it’s not even close to okay. I’m so sorry, Sam. I’m so sorry for everything.”
“Don’t worry about that now. Let’s focus on Duke.”
She nodded, and then, out of nowhere, she wrapped her arms around his neck and
pulled him into a kiss.
Her lips smashed to his with a force so raw, he wasn’t sure he’d experienced anything like it. She trailed her tongue across the seam of his lips, looking for entrance. He granted it, and her mouth had never tasted sweeter. Their tongues met and dueled, tangled together in a kiss of passion, of desire, an expression of life.
Sam backed her up against the wall and pushed into her, his erection straining against his jeans.
She met him eagerly, pushing into his hardness, spreading her legs so that his thigh was between them. She begin to writhe against his jean-clad thigh, rubbing herself.
What a turn-on! But how could he be turned on right now, when so much else demanded his attention?
Yet it made perfect sense. Here they were, loving each other, validating their lives.
He forced his thigh upward and she groaned. He rubbed it against her vulva, matching the thrust of his tongue in her mouth.
He had to have her. Had to have her now. Right here in the hospital hallway. He didn’t care who walked by, who might be in the next room.
Room.
The supply closet.
He jiggled the doorknob and it opened.
“In here, baby,” he said.
The small room was dark and smelled of pine, but he didn’t care, nor did Sydney seem to. He unzipped her jeans and thrust his fingers into her heat.
Soaking wet for him. He thought he might cream for her right there.
“Sam, Sam, I need you,” she whimpered into his shoulder.
“It’s dark in here, sweetheart. Take off your boots and jeans. I’d do it for you but I can’t see.”
Fabric rustled. He fumbled with his own belt and jeans and pushed them down to his knees. When she came toward him, he lifted her and placed her on his rigid cock.
“Oh God.” She sighed.
“Yeah, baby. God, you have no idea how much I need this.”
“I have a pretty good idea,” she said.
She clung to him, and he held onto her with his strong arms and moved her up and down upon his hardness.
Her sleek warmth gloved him like no other. If only this could last forever. If only.
He wanted her to come, but he couldn’t let go of her to touch her clit. As if reading his mind, she snaked one arm between their bodies and began to stimulate herself.
And he was even more turned on than before.
He lifted her soft body up, to the tip of his cock, and lowered her down to his base.
Sweet sensation.
Sweet fuck.
No.
Sweet love.
This wasn’t a fuck. This was making love.
He was making love to his woman in a hospital supply closet, but it didn’t matter. It was love, pure and simple, and it was a validation of the life that flowed through their veins.
“Sam, I‘m coming. I’m coming!”
Sydney’s warmth throbbed against him, and he let himself go.
The convulsions started at the base of his cock and shot through as he shot into her. His veins pulsed, his muscles contracted. His whole body went rigid, relaxed, and went rigid again. When he wasn’t sure he could stand any longer, he had to let Sydney go.
“I’m sorry, baby. I have to put you down.”
Her legs slid down his thighs. “It’s okay. God, it’s okay. That was amazing.”
“Yes, it was.” God, it was.
“You are amazing, Sam. It’s you. It’s not the act. It’s you.”
He wanted to say the words back to her because he meant them with all his heart. How could he live without her?
Could he forgive her?
What about Duke?
Duke.
His baby son might be very ill right now. How had he gotten so out of control that he was fucking in a closet when his son might be gravely ill?
“Jesus,” he said. “What the fuck are we doing?”
His eyes had adjusted to the dark. Sydney was pulling on her boots. “Making love, I think.”
“Sydney, our son is in the hospital. We have no right to be acting so foolishly. What were we thinking?”
She sighed. “I was thinking I wanted to be in your arms. Is that so wrong?”
“When our son is lying in a hospital bed and when we have many issues to work out between us—some of which I don’t think can ever be worked out—yes, it’s wrong. It’s selfish and wrong.”
“I didn’t see you stopping me.”
He sighed. She was right, of course. He should have kept his head—the one above his shoulders. “Well, I’m stopping you now.”
“Now? What good does that do? What’s done is done. You got your rocks off just like I did. Admit it, you wanted it as much as I did.”
Of course he did. But damned if he’d admit anything to her.
He pulled his pants up and buckled his belt. “We’d better hit the restroom before we go back to the ER. To make sure we look okay.”
“I already look like shit. I’ve been crying and worrying for the last several hours. My parents will understand that.”
She was right again. “Fine. Let’s just get back there. Now.”
They walked back in silence and sat down in the waiting area of the ER.
Within five minutes, Roy came out to find them.
“You two come on back now,” he said. “The doc’s on his way with the results.”
Chapter Twelve
Sydney’s heart dropped to her stomach. She gulped. Please, please let him be okay. I’ll do anything. I’ll give up anything. Anything as long as he’s okay.
The doctor entered with Duke’s chart.
“Mr. and Mrs. Buchanan,” he said.
“Please don’t beat around the bush,” Carrie begged. “What’s going on with our little boy?”
Duke had fallen asleep in the bed and appeared comfortable.
“I’m not going to beat around the bush. The news is good. Duke’s blood counts came back in the normal range.”
Sydney fell into Sam’s hard body.
“And that means?” Roy said.
“It means Duke has a virus. He’ll be good as new in a few days. Keep him rested and push fluids. Give him ibuprofen for the fever as needed.”
“But the bruises,” Carrie said.
“He’s a little boy. Little boys get bruises. It’s not uncommon for a little boy to not know how he got a bruise.”
“But Doc Larson—”
“Doc Larson did the right thing by telling you to come here, especially with the medical history. Although as I said before, blood cancers are rarely hereditary. I’d like you to repeat the blood work in a month, just to make sure. I’ll write out the instructions for your pediatrician at home.”
“Thank you,” Carrie breathed. “Thank you so much!”
Sydney burst into tears.
“He’s okay, sweetheart,” Sam said. “He’s okay.”
“I know that. It’s just… I don’t know.”
“You’re letting down,” the doctor said. “Completely understandable and normal. I’m so sorry you had this scare. But Duke is just fine.”
“Should we get him home to Nevada right away?” Carrie asked.
“There’s no reason why you can’t continue your visit,” the doctor said. “It’s really up to you. He’d be more comfortable at home, of course, but the travel might be difficult for him. If you stay, he’ll be on the mend by the time you leave, and the trip will be much more comfortable for him.”
“I have another barrel race the day after tomorrow,” Sydney said, “but I’d feel better if you and Daddy took Duke home.”
“Well, we can’t go anywhere tonight,” Roy said. “Let’s get him back to Bakersville to the hotel and make sure he gets a good night’s sleep. We can make that decision in the morning.” He held out his hand. “Thank you so much, Doctor.”
“You’re most welcome.” He handed Roy a paper. “Here’s the instructions for your pediatrician. You all have a good night.”
Carrie picked up a sleeping Duke.
“Just a minute, Doctor,” Sam said.
“Yes?”
“I assume you still have Duke’s blood sample?”
“Of course. It’s in the lab.”
“Then I want you draw some of mine. I want a DNA test.”
“Excuse me? I’m not sure I understand.”
“He’s my son. I want proof.”
Sydney’s stomach tumbled. “Please, Sam, not right now.”
“Right now’s the perfect time. He’s already had his blood drawn so we don’t have to poke him again. And he’s sleeping. He can’t hear us.”
“I can’t run another test without parental consent.” He turned to Roy and Carrie. “Are you okay with this?”
“No,” Carrie said. “I am not.”
Roy soothed her. “Carrie, it will happen sooner or later. If we do it now it saves Duke an additional pinprick.”
“You realize insurance won’t cover this,” the doctor said.
“I can pay you cash money right now,” Sam said. “Or put it on a credit card. I don’t give a damn what it costs.”
“All right. We’re not in the habit of drawing blood for paternity tests in the ER, but since you’re here, I can arrange it. You come with me.” He nodded to Sam. “I'll send a nurse in with paperwork for you to sign,” he said to Roy and Carrie.
Sydney plunked down in a chair, feeling utterly defeated. “I’m sorry,” she said to her parents.
“What are we going to do?” Carrie sobbed.
“Look,” Roy said, “the most important thing is that Duke is okay. Our little boy does not have leukemia. Grasp that concept, and everything else is nothing.”
“Everything else is not nothing,” Carrie said. “That man wants to take our son.”
“Lower your voice.” Roy put his fingers against his lips. “Do you want to wake him? Now just settle down. We have to accept that Sam is going to be a part of Duke’s life. There’s nothing we can do. He’s the child’s father.”
Sydney sat, numb and silent.
Trusting Sydney: The Temptation Saga: Book Six Page 9
