Winning Wyatt (The Billionaire Brotherhood Book 1) (25 page)

Rosalie
doted on the child. When Sean began to call her Granny Rose, she declared his
brilliance to all in attendance. And she allowed him privileges she had never
given Wyatt during his childhood. To her further delight, Jackson and Martha’s
envy was very apparent. Allie and Xander welcomed Sean with open arms. Izzy and
Jonah considered the newest Maitland one of their family, just as they had
always included Wyatt.

On
the second morning of their visit, Sean woke up cross and listless. Breakfast
didn’t stir his interest. He refused to do anything more than sit in Wyatt’s
lap and rest.

Wyatt
carried Sean into the kitchen to get another opinion. “Izzy, this isn’t like
him.”

“You
think he’s missin’ his mama?”

“Maybe,
but I think he feels warm.”

She
dried her hands on a towel and felt the child’s forehead.

Allie,
stopping in on her way to work, came through the back door and took in the
scene at a glance. “What’s wrong?”

Izzy
made the announcement. “This baby’s got a fever.”

“I
was afraid of that.” Wyatt could just imagine Kara’s reaction should he have to
call her and tell her Sean had gotten sick on his watch. “There’s a baby
thermometer in his bag.”

“I’ll
get it.” Izzy hurried up the back stairs.

Allie
laid a hand against her nephew’s forehead to judge Sean’s condition for
herself. “He is warm.”

“Should
we call a doctor?”

“Let’s
see what his temp is first. Has he been acting like this all morning?”

“Pretty
much.” Wyatt shifted Sean in his arms, trying to move him to a cooler position.
“What could it be?”

“Nothing
serious, I’m sure,” Allie said as Izzy returned.

“It
says thermometer on the box, but it doesn’t look like the kind I’m used to.”
Izzy held up an oddly shaped contraption. “How does it work?”

“You
put this part in his ear, Izzy. After a minute, we’ll hear a beep, and his
temperature will be displayed here.”

“That’s
much easier than when Xander was a baby.” Allie sat down beside Wyatt at the
bar in the kitchen.

All
three adults held their breaths while they waited and watched for the display
panel to print its numbers.

“A
hundred and two.” Wyatt kept his voice steady because he held Sean, but unable
to keep the worry out of it. “Who should we call? Do we know any pediatricians?
Who was Xander’s doctor, Allie?”

“Dr.
Jamison, but he retired last year. Do you remember my friend Danielle
Jernigan?” She reached for her phone and scrolled through the contact list.
“She’s one of the top pediatrician’s in the city now.”

“Danielle
Jernigan?” Wyatt pondered the name for a moment.“A friend from high school?”

“She
is a good doctor,” Izzy said. “My Noreen takes her children to her. The
youngest one, Lonnie, has trouble with asthma something terrible. Dr. Jernigan
does a good job treating that. And sometimes she volunteers down at the church
clinic to give shots to them that can’t afford ‘em. She’s got a real easy,
pleasant way with the children.”

“And
if I catch her at home,” Allie added, “she’ll probably come right over.”

Wyatt
wondered what she was waiting for. “Call her.”

Sean
whimpered and lifted his head. “Drink,” he said, in a small voice. “Pease,
Daddy.”

“Coming
right up.” Wyatt asked Izzy, “What should I give him?”

“Water
or apple juice, if he’ll take it.” Izzy motioned for Wyatt to stay seated as
she got out a sippy cup and a bottle from the refrigerator.

“Danielle’s
on her way over,” Allie announced. “She suggested wiping him down with a cool
cloth while we wait for her.”

Sean
gulped his juice and held out his glass for more. As Izzy poured the refill,
she handed Wyatt a damp towel. He stroked it over his son’s face and neck, then
lifted up his pajama shirt to wipe the cloth over his chest and back. Before
his hand had made a complete circuit of the small body, he stopped and stared.
“What is this rash?” Then a horrible thought struck him. “He hasn’t eaten any
beets, has he?”

“I
don’t know about beets,” Izzy said, pulling her glasses up her nose for a
closer look, “but I’d say this child has the chicken pox.”

Carrying
a cardboard container with coffee and sandwiches, Kara pushed open the door of
her mother’s hospital room with her hip. She smiled encouragement at her father
when he looked up.

“How’s
is she?” Her mother had awakened and improved dramatically during the night,
but the stroke had left her with some paralysis on the right side and the
doctors said she wasn’t out of the woods yet. They recommended cautious
optimism for the next twenty-four hours, before beginning several months of
rehab.

“Much
better.” Her father rubbed a hand across his tired eyes. “She was awake for a
little while, but dozed off pretty quick.”

“I
guess we should expect the medication to keep her drowsy.” Setting the carton
down, Kara stood beside the bed to check on her mother. Her color was better
than it had been, and her breathing was steady and even. All of the monitors
beeped steadily. “Are you sure you don’t want to go to the lounge to eat, Dad?”

He
shook his head stubbornly. “I’d rather stay with her. I think she knows whether
we’re here or we’re not.”

Kara
stroked her mother’s cheek. “I’m sure she does.”

Sticking
a straw through the plastic lid on his drink, her father observed, “She’d also
be relieved if she thought you were happy.”

The
comment, coming out of the blue, surprised Kara. “Why does she think I’m not?”

“You’re
too careful to be happy.”

“It
makes me happy to be careful.” She opened a packet of mustard and spread it on her
turkey sandwich, knowing better than to let him see her expression.

“Unh,”
her father grunted, a sound he made that all of his children recognized as
disagreement.

They
chewed in silence for a moment, but Kara had little appetite. After forty-eight
hours of hospital food, everything tasted like the paper it came in. Maybe they
could leave the hospital long enough to have a real dinner. If her mother
continued to improve, a breath of fresh air would do them good.

Kara’s
eyes drifted around the stark room. Her mother’s unnatural stillness made the
room’s sterility seem all the colder. Bouquets of flowers and a row of family
photos were the only bright spots. Sean’s smiling picture caught Kara’s
attention. She wondered what he was doing right then in Atlanta. Aching to go
to him, she knew her parents needed her to stay a bit longer.

“I
like your young man,” her father said.

“Who,
Sean?” Kara asked, removing her gaze from the photograph.

“That
goes without saying,” her father said, chuckling. “He’s a dandy, that one, but
I meant Wyatt.”

Her
father had been so distracted and upset when she arrived at the hospital that
Kara was surprised he even remembered meeting Wyatt. She looked at the basket
of spring flowers he had sent and nodded. “He’s good to have around in
difficult situations.”

Her
father had been an air traffic controller, and even retired, Karl Sherman
didn’t miss much. Hooking his eyebrows together over his nose in an expression
that made him resemble an eagle, he fixed Kara with a formidable stare. “And
not good to have around otherwise?”

She
shrugged. Her mother’s illness had already brought her emotions too close to
the surface, and a discussion of her uncertain future with Wyatt Maitland was
not a conversation she wanted to have.

“He
seemed pretty attached to you and Sean.”

“He
does seem so, doesn’t he?”

“Why
do you put it like that? Don’t you trust him?” Her father cleared his throat,
apparently as uncomfortable as Kara at the personal nature of the comment.

“It’s
not that, exactly.” What little appetite she had suddenly disappeared. She
wrapped up the remains of her lunch and put it in the trash. “I’ve been hurt
before by someone I trusted. I’m not sure I could handle it again.”

“You
didn’t handle it the last time.”

She
pulled back in surprise. Why wasn’t her father more sympathetic to her pain?

He
cleared his throat. “If you don’t mind my saying, you ran away and hid. We
didn’t understand that. Your mother and I let you do it because we thought you
were entitled to handle your grief in your own way. But I’m thinking, you still
haven’t handled it. And now you’re letting something that happened to you
almost seven years ago prevent you from leading a happy, healthy life.”

Her
cheeks flushed from the criticism. “You know what I’ve been through, and how
much it hurt me.”

“Kara,
your pain went way beyond hurt,” he said, gently. “You let what happened
destroy the best part of you.”

“You
don’t know what it’s like! You don’t know how hard it is.”

“You’re
right, I don’t. You wouldn’t talk to me or anyone else about it. We begged you
to go to counseling, but you refused. But I do know I’ve been scared spitless
these last few days. Your mother and I have been together for forty years.
She’s my life, and I can’t imagine going on without her. But I do know this. I’d
be grateful for every second we’ve shared. Love lives on even if the person
doesn’t, and I’d never close myself away from the people who mean the most to
me just to protect myself.”

Kara
stared in disbelief at her normally kind, gentle, understanding father. “You’ve
been stewing over this for a while now, haven’t you?”

“Yep.
If I wasn’t so tired and you weren’t so stubborn, I probably wouldn’t have said
anything now—”

“I
know you mean well—” Kara wanted him to stop.

“—but
it needed to be said, missy.” His voice overrode her interruption. “It looks to
me like you care about this man, but you’re letting unreasonable fears rule
your decisions. Don’t let cowardice continue to paralyze you. Your mother and I
raised you to be stronger than that.” His gaze turned back to the woman he
adored, and he gently picked up her hand. “Love doesn’t come with any
guarantees, but if you don’t make the most of it while you can, all you end up
with is a lot of regrets.”

The
doctor confirmed Isabelle’s diagnosis, and Wyatt followed her instructions to
the letter. Sean’s fever abated with regular doses of Tylenol, and the
irritation from the rash seemed to be controlled with corn-starch baths and
Benadryl. Still, Wyatt attempted to limit him to quiet activities.

His
first thought was not to concern Kara with the information. He knew how she
would react—she was already upset about her mother—and he had the situation under
control. But he also knew he couldn’t encourage Sean to lie, and the child had
no concept of secrecy. As soon as she asked to speak to her son, he would blurt
out all the news according to Sean. The first day, Sean had been sleeping when
she called.

The
second day, Wyatt could tell immediately that Kara’s spirits had rebounded.
Mrs. Sherman’s condition had improved significantly, and she would be returning
home very soon. Kara’s sister, Gretchen, had returned from Australia and could
stay with her parents for a few days. Her entire family was urging Kara to join
Sean and Wyatt in Atlanta.