by Emerson Rose
“Are you going to take my temperature?”
I smirk to myself, I have no idea if she’s being serious or dirty, but either way, she sounds cute when she’s under the weather.
“I will if you want, but I think it’s safe to say you need some Ibuprofen and sleep. It cured Cannon. It’ll cure you, too.”
“Mmkay. Ash?”
“Yeah, darlin’?”
“Do you see those bunny rabbits on the floor?”
I stop and look down at where she’s looking, and there’s nothing there. Goddamit, her fever must be high if she’s hallucinating.
“Uh, no, honey, I don’t see anything.”
“But they’re so cuuuttee, I wanna pet one, pleaseee.”
Oh my God, I need to get her cooled off. “You can pet the bunnies later, right now we’re going to bed.”
“Ooolala you’re takin me to bed?”
I chuckle and kick open the doors to my bedroom. I lay her down in bed, “Stay here, I’ll get you some medicine and a wet washcloth.” Her eyes are glassy and unfocused when I leave her staring at the ceiling fan that’s rotating slowly overhead.
I tap four Ibuprofen out of the bottle on the vanity and wet a washcloth with cool water. By the time I get back, she has stripped out of the swimsuit cover-up and bikini she slept in last night. Even sick with a fever and out of her head hallucinating she fucking turns me on.
I shake all thoughts of sex from my mind and pull the sheet up over her fidgeting body. “Ash… I need… I need…” Aw shit, I’ve seen that face before. I grab the trash can from the floor next to the bed and shove it under her face just in time for her to puke her guts up.
She heaves until there’s nothing left in her body and falls back against the pillows, covered in a new layer of sweat. She lifts her eyes to me and apologizes. “Sorry.”
“Nothing to be sorry for, you’re sick.” I hold up the trashcan, “And you didn’t get it on me.”
I set the trashcan down, pull the sheet over her, and press the wet washcloth on her forehead. “There, now close your eyes and sleep.”
“Okay, Daddy, I’ll be good but tell Charlotte not to go in my room.” Oh great, now she thinks she’s a kid at home, and I’m her dad. Maybe I should check and see just how high her temp is.
I look at her and then at the door torn, as to if I should leave her alone in this condition or not. Maybe taking care of both of them is too much? I can’t call Ridge for help. I can’t call anybody. My phone is in Cannon’s room, and I’m only wearing the towel I used after showering in Cannon’s bathroom yesterday. I have to put something on if I’m going to bolt down the hall for the thermometer.
With one eye on Stella, I open a dresser drawer and grab a pair of briefs and some shorts, pull them on and when she closes her eyes I make a break for it.
In a half-speed walk, half run, I get to his room, grab the thermometer and my phone, check his forehead with the back of my hand, which is cool as a cucumber, and race back to my room.
The bed is empty, fuck, I was only gone for a minute, and she’s weak as a kitten, where could she have gone. That’s when I hear it, more retching coming from the bathroom.
I find her naked rocking on her knees gripping the toilet with both hands dry heaving. “Shit.” I lay my things down and go to her, gathering her hair in one hand to hold it for her, while rubbing her back with the other.
I fucking hope I don’t get this shit. It’s got to be contagious if they both have it, unless… Maybe it was something they ate for breakfast yesterday?
When she’s done, I help her up, close the lid on the toilet and sit her on it. I grab the thermometer off the counter, slide it across her damp forehead and cringe when I see 104.5˚ F show up on the screen. She flops forward against my chest moaning again.
I think I’m out of my realm here. She’s burning up, delirious, and I can’t get any medicine into her if she’s vomiting. We need a doctor.
When I get her back into bed, I slide some panties up her legs and a tank top over her head before I call Ridge. “I need you to call a doctor for Stella and Cannon, they’re both sick with a fever and vomiting. Cannon’s better but Stella’s bad off.”
“I’ll call Dr. Hart right away.”
“Thanks, send him up to my room as soon as he gets here, and I need you to go check on Cannon.”
“Yes, I’ll take care of him, you stay with Stella.”
“Thanks, let me know when he’s here.”
“I will.” He hangs up on me, but it’s not the same as when Stella’s dad hung up on me, I'm used to it. Ridge and I always end our conversations by hanging up. We say what we have to say and when we're done, we're done. Maybe Stella's dad is the same way? Or maybe he's just rude.
I lie down and stretch out next to her to put a fresh washcloth on her head, but not getting too close. I don’t want the heat of my body to make her temperature any higher. I brush her hair off of her face and notice for the first time that she has a scar on her scalp. It’s thick and begins an inch above her ear, and no hair grows from that skin.
I follow its curve around her head with my fingers moving her hair until it ends an inch before her hairline at the base of her neck. That’s some scar. She mentioned she’s never been sick a day in her life and it doesn’t look like a surgical scar. Someone must have hurt her, or she was in an accident. Why hasn't she mentioned it? Maybe it has something to do with the scar on her belly?
My fingers move to the edge of her tank top and pull it up to examine the scar closer. She doesn’t like me to touch it, but she’s in la-la land right now, I doubt she’ll care.
I trace the scar from one end to the other, and now that I have had a better look this one doesn’t look surgical either. Initially, I assumed it was an appendix scar due to its location. I meant to ask about it later, but I never did. Now I’m thinking we definitely have something to talk about when she’s feeling better. That, and her father’s phone call.
I wasn’t sure what I was going to do about his phone call, but now that she’s sick I have a good excuse not to mention it for a while. Although, I have a feeling if I put it off too long, he’ll show up rattling my gates telling the media that I kidnapped his daughter and I don’t need that shit.
More accurately, my dad doesn’t need that shit. He’s running for Governor, and everything’s about appearances right now. He’s even gone so far as to hire a fake fiancé and he’d like it very much if no one knew I was a single dad raising a kid, whose mother skipped out on him. He wants everyone in the state of Montana to think we have a perfect little nuclear family. I can't wait until he finds out I have a relationship with my nanny.
“Mom… don’t give that to the pigs…” she says in a far off voice. Her eyes are darting around under her closed lids. She must be dreaming about home. “She doesn’t like bananas, Mama…”
“Shush, darlin’, you’re gonna be okay. The pigs are fine, nobody’s feeding them bananas, rest, honey, the doctor’s on his way.” I say, and she calms for a moment, long enough for me to swap out the hot washcloth on her head for a cool one.
Twenty minutes later Dr. Hart has done an exam, and he's starting an IV. He explained that if Cannon had the same thing, it’s probably viral and only going to last the rest of the day. He thinks she’s dehydrated, though, and he wants to bring her fever down, sooner rather than later, which is fine by me.
I was out of my realm. “Thank you for coming so quick, Dr. Hart, I was clearly in over my head.” The white-haired doctor always reminded me of the Colonel Sanders. He has kind eyes, a gentle touch, he’s smart as a whip, and he does house calls. I can’t ask for more than that.
“Oh, it was no problem, I was going to the Jefferson Estate to check up on old Millie anyway, this was practically on my way. She’s going to be fine in a few hours, I’ve seen some nasty viral things going around lately, but they leave as fast as they come.”
“That’s great news, hey, Doc, I was wondering if you could do me a favo
r?”
“Depends on the favor.”
“When I was helping Stella back to bed I noticed a scar on the side of her head. It’s pretty big, could you look at it and tell me what you think it’s from?”
“You could wait till she wakes up and ask her yourself, son.”
“I’m planning on it I just thought you could give me an idea of what I might be dealing with. She has another one on her belly.”
"Yes, I saw that one. It looked like a puncture wound that was torn open."
Fucking hell, a puncture wound that was torn open? That sounds like torture.
He sighs and waves his arm in Stella’s direction, “Lead the way, show me this other scar.”
I take him to the head of the bed and move her hair aside tracing the scar around her head. When I look back, his eyebrows are arched high with surprise. “That’s one nasty gash she had there, looks like she was in a car accident or had a fall maybe. It could have happened a lot of ways, I guess.”
I cover her up, and we walk out into the hall. “I don’t think I like the sounds of that.”
“Talk to her, son. It could have been a simple fall. You’ll never know if you don’t ask.”
He pats me on my shoulder, “Call if you need anything else. You’re sure you don’t need me to see Cannon?”
“No, he’s better, like you said, it’s probably a one-day viral thing, but thank you.”
“No problem, she’s a pretty girl, you might want to keep that one around,” he says with a wink.
“I plan on it.”
I watch him walk down the long hall with his faint limp, that I always thought gave him character. His words resonate in my mind; you might want to keep that one around.
He’s right. I do want to keep Stella around. I want to keep her around forever.
13
Make that a double
Stella
I open my eyes in the dark and smell fresh lilacs wafting through the air. God, I love lilacs. I try to sit up and see where the smell is coming from, but the ache under my ribs keeps me from moving.
I feel like I’ve done a zillion sit-ups and run a million miles.
“Mornin’, sleepyhead.” Ash’s voice comes from somewhere on my right. I slide my hand out over the cool sheet but find nothing. When I loll my head in the direction of his voice, he switches on a dim lamp, and I see him sitting in a chair next to the bed.
“Why are you over there?”
He smiles and leans forward with his elbows on his knees, “Well, there are two good reasons for that, one being that you’ve been sicker than a dog with a fever. I didn’t want to make it worse with my body heat.”
“And the other?”
He points to the left side of the bed. “The other’s lying over there. He won’t leave your side.”
I roll my head to the left and find Cannon curled up in a ball on his daddy’s side of the bed sleeping like a baby in his pajamas.
I remember now, “He was sick.”
“You were sicker.”
“I was sick?” I ask raising my left hand to point at myself only to find resistance. I look at my hand. It’s bandaged and connected to a tube that’s running up my pillow to a bag hanging from one of the spindles of Ash’s bed. “What’s this?”
“Like I said, you were sicker. My doctor came to see you and gave you some fluids and medicine to help you stop throwing up.”
“What’s wrong with me?”
“He said you were dehydrated, you had a fever, and you were throwing up. Do you remember any of that?”
I lay my hand back down and lower my eyes to think. “I kind of remember throwing up, and I remember Cannon being sick, I fell asleep in his bed with him.”
“Yeah, that might not have been the best idea, you caught what he had.”
“I’ve never been sick before, ever, my brother and sister could bring home anything, and I wouldn’t catch it. Even when my mom wanted me to get the chicken pox, she put me in their room with them, but I never got sick.”
“You’re a tough cookie.”
“Apparently not tough enough to fight off the flu.”
“It was a virus. Dr. Hart says it’s particularly nasty and very contagious.”
I close my eyes for a moment and snap them open, “Did you get sick, too?”
“No, not sure why either, I spent two days all up in your faces and I cleaned up his barf.”
“Two days, how long have I been asleep?”
“It’s Saturday, darlin’, you slept with Cannon Thursday night, and you were out of it all day yesterday and most of today.”
I groan, “I’m sorry, what a crappy first week of work.”
“Stop, I don’t care about that. I was worried about both of you, there was no way I was going to work anyway, and it’s the weekend now, so hush.”
The weekend, Saturday, shit, I haven’t called my family to tell them I’m not coming home and I’m supposed to fly out tomorrow.
“I need to call my parents. They still don’t know.”
“About that…”
“About what?”
“Your dad called me Friday morning early, very early, to tell me he needs his daughter back right away, no if, and, or butts about it. He also informed me that I must lift whatever spell I cast over you so that you can leave.”
“My dad called you? Where would he even get your phone number?”
“Wondered that myself. He must be a resourceful guy.”
“Did he say why he needed me home right away?” It’s not like my dad to be a bugaboo, if he calls it’s important. If it weren't important, he would have let my mom call.
“No, and you were in no condition to go so I haven’t called him back.”
“Has he tried to call you again?”
“Yes, last count, about thirty times.”
“Oh my gosh, it has to be something really bad if he’s doing that. Where’s my phone? I have to call home.” I search the dark room for my phone, but I can’t see past Ash’s chair.
He stands and moves to sit on the bed next to me. “You need to stay calm, whatever it is you can’t help until you’re well.”
“No, you don’t understand, my daddy wouldn’t call you unless it were serious, like really serious. Somebody could have died or been injured maybe, I have to call him back now.”
“Alright, I’ll get your phone, but you have to promise to tell him you’ve decided to stay with me.”
“I will, please, Ash, give me my phone.”
“Promise, Stella, say it.”
“I promise, I’ll tell him I’m staying here with you.”
He slides my phone out of his back pocket and hands it to me. It’s powered off. I look up at him confused.
“It wouldn’t stop ringing. I finally shut it off.”
Dread rushes through my veins as I power the phone on and see text message after message from my daddy, my mom, my little brother, even Charlotte who’s in Iowa City at college. I don’t bother reading them and decide to call Charlotte instead.
She picks up on the first ring. “Charlotte? What’s going on?”
“Oh my God, where are you? Dad’s been trying to get ahold of you. He’s going out of his mind.”
“I was sick, am sick, what’s wrong, please don’t tell me anybody’s dead or hurt.”
“Well…” My heart drops into my gut and a lump the size of a golf ball forms in my throat. Oh my God, somebody’s dead.
“Is Mama okay? Jack Jr.?”
“Yes, they’re all fine but, Stella, the ranch is gone.”
I shake my head and close my eyes, “Gone? What do you mean gone?”
“Have you been watching the news?”
“No, I told you I’m sick.”
“An F5 tornado hit Redwood the other night, it took out the entire ranch, there’s nothing left.”
It takes me some time to digest her words, tornado, F5, nothing left. This isn’t real. I must still be hallucinating, our home can’t be gone
.
"Stella? We need you to come home and help. It gets worse.”
Worse? How on earth can it get worse than losing everything? “Worse how?” I turn my head to Ash and reach out to take his hand. He shakes his head back and forth and shrugs his shoulders asking what’s going on, but I can’t tell him because I’m still in shock trying to sort it out myself.
“Daddy let the insurance on the ranch lapse. He had to choose between paying the ranch hands or the insurance bill, so he paid them. He was in trouble financially, worse than we knew.”
“Oh no, oh my God, no insurance?”
“No, and they’re homeless, too, the house is gone. Larry and Dan were killed in the storm and Adam’s in the hospital seriously injured.”
“Larry and Dan?” They were ranch hands on my team, we worked together in the prairie almost every day, and now they’re gone, and I’ll never see them again.
“Yeah, honey, I’m sorry, I know you all were friends. So what's wrong with you? You're never sick.”
“It’s some virus, gives you a hell of a fever and vomiting. I’m feeling better, though, I should be able to come home soon.”
Ash’s hand tightens around mine, and deep frown lines crease his forehead.
“How soon is soon?"
"They’re living out of a hotel room that they can’t afford.”
“What time is it?”
“Five o’clock.”
“I’ll come tomorrow, are you there already?”
“Yes, I flew in yesterday, went to see the damage for myself today. It’s devastating, Stella, I can’t believe it’s all gone,” she says doing her best to stifle a cry.
“It’ll be okay, I’ll be home tomorrow, and we will get this all figured out, don’t worry.”
She sniffles and says goodbye before we hang up. I drop the phone on the mattress, and Ash slides in next to me pulling me against him. I slide my hand with the IV over his abdomen as far as it will let me and sling my weak leg over his while snuggling under his arm, where I can feel safe for a little longer.
“What’s going on? Sounds serious.”
