Chapter Twenty-Four
Hailey
A Week Later, Early September
Nothing much had changed on the ranch, even after Cash’s early morning phone call about his uncle. Luckily, the man’s condition had stabilized enough that they moved him out of the ICU. He’d indeed suffered a heart attack, though not as massive as what was first believed, and the situation was not as dire as everyone had initially feared. He was still in the hospital, but was conscious and joking around. Cash had even been able to speak to him on the phone. His parents were staying in Colorado until he was discharged, though they didn’t know how long that would take. I could see Cash was relieved, though he tried to act like we all had our time to go and there was nothing we could do to change it. I agreed with him to a point—when it came time for us to leave this life, there was nothing we could ultimately do about it—but that didn’t mean we couldn’t mourn the loss of our loved ones even as we accepted the fact that they had been taken from us forever.
In preparation for the possibility of Cash needing to hurry to Colorado, Eric came out to the farm on Monday and went around with Cash while he pointed out what would need to be done in the event that his uncle passed away. Eric worked during the day in town but had vacation time he could take that would make it easier for him to keep after the animals and do the minimum upkeep on the ranch. I followed close behind them as they walked the ranch, taking copious notes of everything they discussed for material I could use later in my novel. There also might be a chance that I could help Eric with some of the easier tasks. I was a quick learner, and I didn’t mind getting more than my hands dirty. I’d actually been dying to help out but didn’t want to get in Cash’s way. I wouldn’t have a problem with Eric, who’d likely be happy for me to take care of the little tasks, thus freeing him to handle the big stuff.
Eric seemed like his normal, funny self, joking with Cash and me, shooting plenty of smiles at both of us and flashing his dark eyes around, but things had changed between us in a way that made me realize what Paige said had been true. He’d been vying for my attention, and now that he was finished doing that, we’d gone back to being no more than casual acquaintances. He was still perfectly polite and friendly, but the change was obvious. It was a relief, to be honest, even if it did feel like a slap in the face at the same time. While I’d felt a bit of an initial thrill when I realized two hot men were effectively fighting over me, I’d also been sick with worry over what might happen if and when I chose one over the other. And after the day at the rodeo, I was more certain than ever that I wanted to explore more of a relationship with Cash. Things had been so comfortable between us, and I swore he was going to lean closer and kiss me on that Ferris wheel. There was a moment when we paused at the top, and I looked over at him. His eyes were enormous as he stared down at me. I parted my lips, and he leaned in just a touch…and then the damned Ferris wheel started back up again, jerking us hard in our seats. I could have killed the man operating it.
At the end of the walkabout tour of the ranch, Cash pointing out jobs that had to be done every day and a few that could be done if there was extra time in Eric’s day, we ended up out by the driveway again.
“Glad to hear you don’t have to run off to Colorado right this second,” Eric said, beaming at both of us, his smile brighter than the sun overhead. His blond hair was shining too, like he’d freshly washed it with the nicest conditioners. I’d never seen a man’s hair so radiant. I had to remember to ask him for advice on his routine. Mine had been looking a little lackluster since I’d been out West, not that I’d given it much attention.
“Any word on when your uncle will get out of the hospital?” he asked.
Cash shook his head as he hooked his thumbs in the pockets of his dusty jeans. “Not as of yet.”
“Well, keep me updated. I’m only a few minutes away. See you ‘round, Hailey.” He winked at me, drawing my smile, and turned to get into his truck. We watched him drive off.
“I’m getting back to work,” Cash announced, and left to do so without waiting for a response from me. I watched him walk in the direction of the barn, admiring the round shape of his ass moving in his jeans. He was still a little rough around the edges, but that was good too. I didn’t want him too soft.
As soon as he disappeared into the open door of the barn, I went inside the house. I dragged my computer, notebooks, and character sketches out to the kitchen. I desperately needed a change of scenery, as things were beginning to feel suffocating in the guest room.
Today was the day.
I was going to start my novel as soon as I got situated because I couldn’t do it in the guest room. I was too comfortable, too tied up in the bad habits I’d indulged in since I moved here. The room shift was like a breath of fresh air. I could feel how compliant my mind was when I told it to submit and lie still, to focus on the task at hand and just start getting it done. I didn’t even need my notes or character sketches right now. I just needed my fingers dancing over the keyboard.
I fired up my laptop and got started, diving into the story headfirst and not coming up for air again until I realized the light had shifted drastically in the windows, leaving me in hazy duskiness. It was extremely late in the afternoon and hurrying towards evening. I needed to get something going for dinner in a few minutes, but I took a second to quickly review all the work I’d managed to complete. I loved when it happened this way—falling into a hole so deep, I didn’t realize how much I’d fallen until I took the time to look up and saw the light thousands of feet above my head. This is how I always wanted writing to go, and it happened most of the time, if I laid the correct groundwork. I just had to get my research done and put together a great outline. If I did all that, the rest would flow forth effortlessly. Well, mostly effortlessly. My back and butt were killing me after spending so much time sitting still in this wooden chair.
I stretched my back and rolled my head around slowly on my neck, just letting the life come back into muscles that had been locked into the same place for the last several hours. Then I gathered my notes and laptop and took them back to my room, leaving them in a pile on my unmade bed, making sure to close the door behind me so I didn’t give Cash a reason to have a panic attack.
I returned to the kitchen and started to put out the ingredients for what I planned to make for dinner that night. It had been a while since I’d had chicken parmesan, and I was excited to get it going. My mom had a great recipe that I’d put my own spin on in high school. It tasted so good that she’d actually started making it my way.
I heard the door open right after I set the oven to preheat, and I looked back at the door to the kitchen with an expectant smile on my face. Cash always dropped by to say hello and find out what was on the menu for the night before heading to take a shower. He was earlier than usual by about an hour, but that was okay. If I wasn’t finished with dinner, he took a seat at the table, and we chatted about the ranch and books and the strange wonderland that was New York City. I swore he was coming around to my way of thinking when it came to travel. He’d admitted a few times that he might be interested in seeing the other side of the country. I counted that as a victory. Manhattan might be a little busy for him, but he could start slowly with someplace small, maybe stay in a bed and breakfast in a scenic location. There were a lot of those kinds of places north of me. Yes, in my fantasy, we were staying in the bed and breakfast together.
“Hey, Cash, you…” I began as I turned from the stove, a smile on my face, to greet him the way I usually did. My words dried up at what I saw.
Cash was standing in the doorway, drenched in sweat, his face a nearly colorless mask, much grayer than its usual healthy tanned glow. The evenings had been cooling off a little more as summer came to an end, and the last few days had been overcast and windy, giving us a break of about 15 degrees, but he was dripping sweat and looked near collapse. He slumped against the doorframe, his green eyes unfocused, as though too dizzy to remain standing.
“Cash?” I finally managed to say. “What’s wrong?”
It took him a moment to answer, as though he couldn’t force the words out, or had momentarily lost the ability to access them. “I don’t feel too good.”
That much was clear by his ashen skin and inability to stand on his own. I had no idea how he’d been able to make it inside without collapsing, but he looked like he wouldn’t be able to go much further.
I went to him, feeling the skin of his neck first, which was on fire, and then his forehead, which was no better.
“You have a fever,” I said.
“I’m fine,” he started to argue, but then fell silent. His breathing sounding labored, and he was shivering.
“Do you have a thermometer?”
He looked at me somewhat confused.
“Come on,” I said, and lifted his arm so I could get underneath it. He was just as heavy as he looked, but at least he could walk. I’d never be able to get him to his bedroom otherwise. I’d have to call Eric for help. I might still need to do that if Cash took a turn for the worse and needed to be seen by a doctor.
I helped him over to his bedroom, moving very slowly, not wanting him to lose his balance on the way. I got the door open and stepped inside his private space for the first time since I’d arrived. There had been an aura of mystery hanging about the room simply because I wasn’t allowed in it, but that was dispelled the instant I stepped inside of it and felt along the wall for the switch that turned on the overhead light. There wasn’t much to see here. It was actually pretty boring. Just a queen-sized bed flanked by night tables, and a dresser along one wall. There was a book sitting on one of the nightstands along with a lamp and alarm clock. That was about it. No pictures. No area rugs. No personal decorative personal items he’d picked out himself or received as gifts. Pretty boring, all in all. I had to admit, I was a little disappointed. I’d secretly been hoping he was hiding some sexy fetish in here, not just more of the spic and span same.
I helped Cash sit down on his bed, which was made, of course. “Stay here while I look for a thermometer.”
He still seemed dazed and not really aware of what was going on around him. The heat his body was creating was overwhelming, like I was baking in the hot sun just by standing underneath his arm. It was worrying me a great deal because whatever this was seemed to have fallen over him suddenly. He’d seemed fine earlier in the day, if a little reserved at the situation with his uncle.
I hurried into his bathroom, which was just as spotlessly clean as his bedroom and the rest of the house. I had no idea where he found the time to scrub every surface of his house. The man literally had no idea what it was like to take a breather.
I opened the medicine cabinet and found what I was looking for immediately—a thermometer neatly arranged in its plastic case. Right now, I was thankful for his penchant—some might say obsession—for organization. I rushed back into the bedroom. Cash hadn’t moved at all, but he looked as though even more color had washed out of his skin. His eyes were glazed, and he kept swallowing like he was about to vomit.
“Cash?” I asked, and his eyes lifted to my face for a few seconds. “I need to take your temperature right now, okay?” I unsheathed the instrument and stuck it into his mouth. “Hold it under your tongue.” He complied without argument or, seemingly, awareness. After about 30 seconds it beeped. I pushed my glasses up my nose and lifted it so I could read it. One hundred and three. Shit.
“I’m going to get you some aspirin,” I said. I’d seen some in the medicine cabinet. “You need to take your work clothes off so you can get in bed.”
“I’m not a kid,” he complained, his face convulsing into a light frown. “I’m a grown man who can take care of himself.” But he was now shaking like a leaf.
“Just do what I said,” I replied, but gently. He was clearly not feeling well and now was not the right time to yell at him. But if he thought he was going to get away with asserting his manhood when he obviously needed help, he had another thing coming. I was a New Yorker through and through. That meant I didn’t take crap from anyone.
“I ain’t taking off my clothes,” he muttered, without much force.
“You’re sick, Cash,” I said in a sterner voice that drew his attention for a few critical seconds. “I’m not going to take advantage of you or anything. You can’t relax in bed with your work clothes and boots still on.”
He hesitated for a moment, his eyes cast down to the floor, and then began to pull open his belt.
Now that he was complying, I ran for the aspirin and filled the cup I found positioned next to his toothbrush by the sink with some cool water. I brought both back to him just as he was struggling to get out of his jeans. I paused a moment and then chastised myself for enjoying the view of his muscular legs so much that I wasn’t actually helping him. I set the cup and aspirin down, pulled off his boots, and helped him out of his jeans. I unbuttoned his shirt next and helped him out of that as well, but left his undershirt. Then I gave him two aspirin and watched as he washed the pills down with water.
“You need to rest now,” I said.
He was mumbling something I didn’t quite catch as I pulled him up enough to bring the covers down so he could get in. It worried me how hot he was and how much he was shivering. Hopefully, the aspirin would help. I’d monitor him closely, and if it looked like the fever was holding firm or rising, I’d call Eric to come up here and help me take Cash to the hospital. There was no way I’d be able to get him dressed and out to the car by myself.
Once he was tucked in—I brought the covers all the way up to his chin the way my dad used to do for Paige and me when we were little—I brushed his wet hair off his forehead, frowning at the heat of his skin.
“I won’t leave you alone,” I said. “I’ll be right here if you need anything at all.”
But his eyes were already closing, shutting me out, and I prayed nothing would keep them from opening again.