Rodeo King (Dustin Lovers Book 1) (4 page)

Rosemary peeled out of the parking lot
like a seasoned Indy 500 driver, which only increased the knots in Caleb’s
stomach. Little kids got fevers all the time, right? Following on the heels of
that thought was how many years Rosemary had done this all on her own while
he’d been out there making a name for himself. The only name that applied now
was
asshole
.

They tore through town before turning
onto Smithy Road, which led to an older section of Dustin. Screeching down Benson
Drive, she barely brought the car to a complete stop before she flung her door
open and raced toward the front porch of a small, older two-story house.

Caleb steeled himself to meet his kid
for real this time. He grabbed the keys she’d left in the ignition and followed
Rosemary up the porch stairs and into the house. Despite his worry, he took
note of the place where she and her son—no,
their
son—lived. The
interior of the house was as tidy as the outside. From what he could sense, Rosemary’s
presence was in every corner of the cozy rooms.

Is this what our home would have looked
like if I’d stuck around long enough to find out I was going to be a father?

There was no doubt in his mind he would
have married Rosemary. Even if Mason hadn’t been standing behind him with a
shotgun. But a little voice in the back of his head told him he’d have grown to
resent her. Back in the day, his only focus was the rodeo, and how big a name
he could make for himself. Looking back now at his wins and losses, and his
resultant injury, it all seemed so childish.

Rosemary’s boots beat a cadence as she
hurried up the carpeted stairs, then made an abrupt turn into an open bedroom
door. Without waiting for an invitation he followed her.

The wail of a crying child and a woman’s
low, soothing voice greeted him. Carson slumped on the bed, bent over, and from
where Caleb stood the kid’s breathing was not sounding good. Rosemary sat
alongside the boy and touched his forehead. She gasped and looked at Susan,
pacing near the window. “He’s so hot.”

“I gave him some children’s fever
reducer a little while ago, but it didn’t seem to work,” Susan stopped pacing
and shot Caleb a don’t-mess-with-my-best-friend glare. “And his breathing is
pretty bad.”

Caleb felt like a third wheel here. Rosemary
and Susan had probably been through something like this before. Totally
clueless on how things worked with kids, fevers, and breathing problems, all he
could think of was how they needed to get him to an emergency room. Carson’s
lips were blue as he struggled to take in air. The worry Caleb felt kicked any
residual buzz from his brain, instantly alert as he studied his son’s flushed
cheeks.

After years of watching medical
emergencies from stomped-on cowboys along the circuit, his normal decisive
attitude took over. He strode to the bed, scooped Carson up, blankets and all,
and headed for the door. “Hang on, buddy,” he said, as the boy laid his head on
his chest.

“What the hell do you think you’re
doing?” Rosemary yelled as she ran after him. “Put my son down.”

Pausing, he said quietly, “I’m taking
our
son to the emergency room.”

Susan flanked his other side, tugging on
Caleb’s arm. “You have no right.”

“Get out of my way. I have every right.”
He nudged Susan aside and cast a glance over his shoulder to a stunned
Rosemary. “Let’s go.”

Either his growl or her motherly
instinct kicked in because she quickly grabbed a furry stuffed animal from the
boy’s bed, and raced behind him.

“Rosemary, you can’t let him do this,”
Susan shouted from the top of the stairs as Caleb shifted Carson to open the
front door.

“He’s right, Susan. Carson needs help.”
Rosemary followed him out into the dark night.

She climbed into the passenger seat and
held her arms out to Caleb. He placed Carson on her lap and strode to the other
side. “Is the hospital still on Baker and Montrose?”

“Yeah.” Her voice had gone thick with
emotion.

Caleb glanced briefly at Carson. “Has he
had breathing problems before?”

“Not like this. Only the usual colds and
some allergies, but this is bad. He started coughing yesterday morning but I
thought it was just a summer cold.” Rosemary chewed her plump lips, where only
about ten minutes ago he’d been happily nibbling. He shook his head to clear it
from those thoughts. Right now they had to get Carson taken care of.

Caleb reached out and touched her hand.
“It will be all right. The doctors will fix him right up.”

***

Why did his assurance calm her down?
Caleb knew nothing about children, fevers, or anything else that she’d lived
with—alone—all these years. But seeing his determined face as he whipped around
cars on their race to the hospital did just that. It had always been Mason
who’d stepped in to take on the role of daddy when she’d needed him to. Now she
had to deal with Carson’s actual father. But for how long?

She hugged her son’s overly-warm body
closer and looked out the window at the stores and houses as they whizzed by.
It was best not to get used to Caleb being here. Sure, he was taking charge
now, and acted the part of the doting father, but her heart told her he’d up
and leave as soon as whatever it was that brought him back here was fixed.

She hadn’t missed his slight limp and
occasional wince when he moved. He’d obviously decided to take a little time
off to recover from an injury. But why here? His parents had left town years
ago.
Did he choose Dustin because of me?
She snorted. Even she wasn’t
stupid enough to believe that.

The car came to a screeching halt outside
Emergency. She’d managed to unfasten her seatbelt about a second before Caleb
wrenched her door open. He gently took Carson from her arms, then rushed toward
the entrance, leaving her gaping after them.

“Wait!” She scrambled to catch up as
they all reached the reception desk.

“What have we here?” The night duty
nurse looked over the top of her computer monitor as the emergency doors slid
closed with a whoosh.

“My son has a high fever and he’s having
a lot of trouble breathing,” Rosemary said.

“All right. Follow me and we’ll get him
checked out.” The nurse led them to an empty bed and pulled up the safety rails.
“Please lay him down there,” she instructed Caleb.

“Mommy.” Carson stretched out his hand.
Rosemary placed her palm on his forehead,
Still so hot
. She looked down
at his frightened little face and her stomach did a whirl.

“Sir, if you’ll come with me, you can
give me the boy’s insurance information and whatever else we need.”

“Rosie,” Caleb said, “maybe you should
do that.”

“No. I’m staying here with Carson.” She
gripped his little fingers as if to anchor herself from being dragged from the
room.

He sighed. “I don’t know the information
she’s going to ask.”

“Ma’am.” The nurse regarded her with
sympathy. “Let his daddy stay with him. It’ll only take a few minutes to get
the paperwork filled out.”

His daddy.
Had Carson heard her? She glanced down at her son, who was having trouble
taking a breath.
God, I hope not.

Rosemary had to beat down the desire to
lash out at the nurse as she followed her to the reception desk. She and Carson
had always done just fine on their own. Fighting off tears, she fished around
in her purse for her insurance card. Carson belonged to only her. How could she
share him now?

“The little guy sure looks like his
daddy.”

Gritting her teeth, Rosemary handed the
card over. The low-pitched tones of Caleb’s soothing voice carried into the
hallway. What was he saying to her son?

After signing numerous forms she
returned to Carson’s bedside just as another nurse entered. “We have a little
bit of a breathing problem, young man?” The middle-aged woman smiled at Carson
as she took his pulse, then swiped his forehead with a thermometer. She moved
to the computer and entered information. The night nurse came back into the
room with a plastic bracelet that she fastened to Carson’s wrist.

“How bad is his temperature?” Rosemary
tried to look over the attending nurse’s shoulder at the computer screen, but
couldn’t see the numbers.

“It’s slightly over one hundred and
two.”

Fear gripped her stomach. “That’s
dangerous, isn’t it?”

The nurse approached the side of
Carson’s bed and put a blood pressure cuff on him. “Children tend to have
higher fevers than adults. It’s not unusual.”

All this time Caleb had been hovering on
the other side of Carson’s bed, his face creased with worry. Now he moved to
stand beside her, slipping his arm around her shoulders. She allowed herself to
relax into his strength, the warmth of his body easing her chills, before
remembering were she was at and who she was with.

She glanced sideways at Caleb. “You
don’t have to stay. Though I do appreciate the help.”

A stubborn expression formed on his
handsome face. “Aside from the fact I have no car, I plan to stay right here
until I know what our boy’s problem is.”

Rosemary fought to keep her cool. Lord,
the man had her twisted in knots and he’d only been back in town for a couple
of days.

“Mommy, my chest hurts.”

She slid out from under Caleb’s arm and
stepped to the bed to sit alongside her son. “I know, sweetheart. That’s why
we’re here. The doctor will come in and make you feel all better.”

This was certainly not the time or place
to resurrect the feelings of abandonment she’d suffered when the doctor
confirmed her pregnancy and she had no idea where Caleb was.

Carson nodded as another bout of
coughing overtook him. His face turned red and he gagged for a minute before
leaning back against the pillow, looking so small and vulnerable in the baggy
hospital gown.

“Where the hell is the doctor?” Caleb
growled, and began to pace around the bed.

Rosemary pushed the hair back from
Carson’s forehead, her heart speeding up when she felt the heat coming from his
body. Yes, where the hell was the doctor?

After about ten minutes of Carson
coughing, Caleb pacing, and Rosemary ready to pull her hair out, the doctor
knocked softly on the door and pushed it open.

“Good evening.” He stuck his hand out to
Caleb. “I’m Dr. Vine.” He nodded in Rosemary’s direction. “I understand we have
a sick little boy here.”

“He started coming down with a cold a
couple of days ago, but tonight his coughing got much worse and he has a pretty
high fever.” Rosemary pushed aside her anxiety and strove to respond as calmly
as possible.

“Well, let’s take a listen.” The doctor
moved to Carson’s side and placed a stethoscope against his chest. From the
wince he made, the instrument must have been cold. Dr. Vine frowned and moved
the stethoscope to Carson’s back.

“Pneumonia,” he pronounced, after a few
more checks.

“Pneumonia!” She and Caleb said at the
same time.

“Yes, sir. This little guy has
pneumonia.”

Rosemary burst into tears. What kind of
a mother was she that her son developed pneumonia and she thought it was only a
cold?

Carson coughed, his small body jerking
from the strain. Caleb moved to her side and once again slipped his arms around
her. “It’ll be all right.”

“Now, now, mother. These things happen.
Kids can go from being fine to very sick in no time. Remember, when we adults
are sick, we start to think about taking care of the problem right away. A
child usually ignores any symptoms until he’s flat on his back.”

“So what needs to be done?” Caleb asked,
worry evident in his voice.

“Given his fever and his age, I’m going
to admit him.”

Helpless fear made her tremble.
I
hate falling apart like this.
Especially in front of Caleb. She’d handled
all of Carson’s illnesses and other mishaps on her own, no problem. Now she was
acting like a sobbing teenager in a bad movie.

She pulled away and wiped her cheeks. “I
want to spend the night here with him.”

“That should be no problem. I’ll have
him transferred to Pediatrics and you can work that out with the nurses.”

The doctor looked briefly at Caleb
before he turned to the computer and began typing furiously. “It might be a
problem if you both want to stay.”

“It’ll just be me,” Rosemary replied.

Dr. Vine merely gave a quick nod and
continued entering information. Rosemary raised her chin and regarded Caleb.
“I’m going to run home and pick up a few things. I can drop you off wherever
you’re staying.”

Caleb tensed. Rosemary waited for him to
disagree with her, but then he gave a curt nod. “All right. I’m at the Bronco
Inn. Unit Fourteen.”

“That studio Nash rents by the week?”

“Yeah.”