Kat Attalla Special Edition (63 page)

Chloe's face dropped. "Oh. Sorry. I'll stop by before school tomorrow."

"Thanks." She closed her eyes while Chloe gathered her dinner dishes. Her temperature slowly began to rise, but she couldn't even get herself up for aspirin. As the exhaustion overtook her body, she found it impossible to stay awake even until Chloe left.

Chapter Ten

Kate stayed away from the barn the following morning and it did not go unnoticed by Chloe or Trevor, who had both spent the past hour grunting and scowling at Jake. Kate's presence and her constant questions made the mornings go by so quickly that they all felt her absence. But none more than Jake.

He regretted the things he'd said but had no idea what to do next. Should he leave her or demand to speak with her and risk getting her angrier? Trevor was right. He knew nothing about women.

Although he knew he shouldn't use his daughter, he let her out of her chores early to go visit with Kate before school. If he asked tactfully, he might find out what kind of a reception he would receive later that day.

"Daddy, can I ask you something?" Chloe's face was pale and constricted in fear.

He dropped the milking machine on the floor and took her hand. He couldn't imagine that Kate would take out her anger with him on Chloe, but she couldn't have been there more than a minute. "Is something wrong, baby?"

She fidgeted nervously, slipping her hands in and out of her jeans pockets. "Remember how you always told me never to break a promise?"

He nodded, unsure of the point. "Right."

"But what if by keeping the promise, something bad might happen to someone?"

"What are you talking about, Chloe?"

"Kate."

He cupped her shoulders and gently urged her to continue. "What about Kate?"

"Last night, when I went to see her, she didn't feel good. She said it was nothing and made me promise not to tell you. But she's real sick now. Her head is very hot and her clothes are wet. And she doesn't know who I am." She grabbed his arm as he started to leave. "It was okay to tell, right? She won't be mad at me, will she?"

"We won't tell her you told. You better call Doc Williams and see if he can come by. Trevor?"

Trevor waved his hand. "I'll finish here. Go check on her."

Jake sprinted across the road, with Chloe on his heels. He entered the cold, damp room. The fire had died out during the night, and Kate didn't have the furnace set to kick in unless the temperature dropped below forty-five degrees.

He found her curled up in a tight ball on the sofa, shivering. The heavy quilt draped over her did little to stem the chills from the fever he estimated to be well above one hundred. He didn't have time to warm up her house, so instead, he scooped her up in his arms and carried her next door.

Her rambling speech made little sense. She muttered the name “Kelly” several times. He figured that Kelly was the little girl Kate had tried to adopt. Guilt tore at him. Why did he always hurt the people who cared about him?

"Should I make up the sofa?" Chloe asked.

"It's not comfortable. My room. I can sleep on the sofa. What did the doctor say?"

Chloe pushed the bedroom door open and waited for him to pass. "Give her a lot of water. Um. . See if she can swallow Tylenol. If not, bathe her forehead and arms with tepid water. He can't get here before noon, but if she seems to get worse, take her to the hospital."

He laid her in the center of the bed and sat on the edge. "Let's try the Tylenol first. Bring lemonade."

"But the doctor said-"

"Just do it!" he snapped, and then cringed when both Chloe and Kate jumped. "Sorry. But I've done this before when you've been sick."

Chloe returned in a minute with the glass and two tablets. He drank from the glass until an inch of liquid remained in the bottom, and then pulled the capsules apart and emptied the fine powder into the glass.

"That's a neat trick," Chloe noted.

"If she drinks it." He slipped one arm underneath her back and lifted her into the crook of his shoulder. 'Come on, Kate. Open up."

He pressed the glass against her lips and tilted it. She showed no interest. He brushed his finger over her bottom lip, and she instinctively opened her mouth. The first drops of lemonade trickled down her throat, and she coughed. Eventually her thirst won out over the bitter taste, and he managed to get most of it in her mouth. "Get some water and then get ready for school or you'll miss the bus."

"Dad," she complained. "I can't go today. She needs me."

"It's the last day before vacation. You'll have all day tomorrow to sit with her. Go on." He had to do this alone.  

Other than the continuous shivers, he might have been holding a rag doll in his arms. He removed her wet clothing, which she made very easy by dropping her arms anywhere he placed them. He dressed her in one of his flannel shirts. Maybe one day she might appreciate what he did for her.

She mumbled something as he tucked the extra blanket around her. He stroked his hand across her colorless cheek and pushed back the damp strands of hair that stuck to her face. "What did you say, Kate?"

"Cold."

"I know," he whispered soothingly. "It will stop soon."

"Don't ..." Her sentence trailed off.

"Don't go?" he finished for her. Had he wished the intent, or was that really what she tried to say? "Do you want me to stay for a while?"

She nodded.

He kicked off his boots and lowered himself on the bed. Too late, he realized that he should have changed out of the rough denim jeans, but she didn't seem to care as she curled up against him for the added body warmth.

"Jake," her voice croaked out.

"Shh." He kissed her forehead and cuddled her closer. "Sleep. You can knock the crap out of me when you feel better."

He had no doubt she would.

* * * *

Kate felt something cold touch her forehead. Her eyes opened wide. She couldn't focus. A dull ringing in her ears muted the voices whispering around her.

When her vision cleared, she gasped. An older man leaned over the side of the bed, staring down at her. Even the room, vaguely familiar, wasn't hers.

"Jake?" she cried out in a voice she didn't recognize as her own.

"Kate. It's okay." She pushed at the man to see behind his shoulder. Jake took a step forward, and his tentative smile eased away some of the fright. "He's a doctor, Kate."

"Her reflexes are pretty good under the circumstances," the doctor noted. "Could we get you to sit up so that I can check your lungs?"

"They are very vocal, I can assure you," Jake joked. "She sings like a bird when she's sleeping."

What other stupid things had she blurted out?  And how did she end up in Jake's bedroom? She swallowed hard. "How long have I been here?"

"Five hours or so. Come on." Jake eased a hand behind her back to help her forward. "Doc Williams looks after Chloe, too. He's okay."

The older man smiled warmly. "How long have you been feeling poorly, Kate?"

The cold stethoscope hit her back, and she jumped. "A few days."

"Longer than that, I think." Doc Williams checked her eyes and ears, and then paused for an answer.

"I'd been tired for a few months." She paused for a breath, the effort of speech making her more tired. "I had a hectic work schedule, but I've been feeling better the last couple of weeks."

"You appear to have a case of strep throat. I’ll take a culture but in the mean time I'm going to give you something for the fever and cough. It might make you a little groggy, so you stay put for a few days."

"No," she declined, a little too sharply. Staying in Jake's bedroom was not an option she cared to consider. Her head throbbed and she massaged the temples to clear her mind.

"Doctor's orders, Kate," Jake teased. "Don't make me rope you to the bed."

If the doctor sensed her tension, he didn't mention it. "Jake Callahan. Are you still scarin' all the girls in town? You're not so big that I can't pull you up by the bootstraps and whip you into line. It wouldn't be the first time."

"That, I would stay to see," Kate muttered.

"Stick a thermometer in her mouth," Jake said, looking put in his place.

"You stick it, Jake," she shot back.

"I like this girl. She's just what you Crazy Callahans need to keep you in line." Doc Williams winked at her. "Heard all about you in town. When Chloe said you were ill, I was afraid you'd eaten the fruitcake."

"No. She assaulted me with it instead," Jake said.

"Yep. I like this girl," Doc Williams repeated. He put the stethoscope back in his bag and stood up. "You stay in bed and call me in a couple of days."

"What about Easter mass?" Kate asked.

"You have three days. If your temperature is back to normal, you can have Jake drive you. It would send the entire town into a tailspin to see him in church again. Get Trevor, too, and they might call it a bona fide miracle."

Kate lowered herself onto the down pillows and pulled the quilted blanket up to her chin. She glanced at Jake and back to the doctor. "I try not to set unreasonable goals for myself, sir."

Doc Williams chuckled, and Jake frowned.

"I'll go have this prescription filled and come right back, Kate," Jake said.

She nodded and closed her eyes to rest while Jake escorted the doctor out. Three days in Jake's house! She couldn't do it. After a short nap, she would get herself out of bed and go home, with or without his help.

* * * *

Kate counted the five chimes from the grandfather clock in the living room. Damn! How had she slept so long? She vaguely remembered Jake waking her up earlier to give her a tablet, but she went right back out. She tried to move her legs, but jelly had more consistency than her body. The doctor said the medicine would make her groggy, not comatose.

She noticed the flannel shirt she wore, and cringed. What must the doctor have thought when he examined her earlier? Where were her clothes? She couldn't walk across the yard dressed like that.

She didn't have a choice if she hoped to leave before the others returned from the barn. Summoning all her strength, she rolled to the edge of the bed. The tangled sheet had her wrapped tighter than a mummy. She wasted half of her energy just freeing herself before she finally slipped to the floor on her knees.

The door came crashing open as she pulled herself up to her feet. "What do you think you're doing?" Jake demanded.

His stupid question didn't warrant a serious answer. "My daily calisthenics."

"Get back in that bed."

"I'm going home," If only her body would behave with the same determination as her mind. She swayed and quickly sat back on the bed. "Would you give me a hand?"

He leaned back against the doorframe and applauded her effort.

She shot him the coldest glare she could manage. "Funny. You're a stand-up comedian."

"At least I can stand up."

She groaned at his untimely sense of humor and muttered a few unladylike rejoinders.

He laughed. "Well, go on. Go home if you want."

Suddenly aware that he was staring at her bare legs, she pulled the sheet across her lap. "Is Trevor here?"

"He won't help you if he wants to live to see his thirty-fourth birthday."

"I want to go home, Jake."

He took a step into the room. "Go back to bed and get some sleep. We'll talk about it tomorrow."

He refused to help her, and she knew she'd never make it alone. Still, she resented him dictating to her. He didn't have the right. "I'm not sleepy."

In his typical take-charge manner, he lifted her up and placed her back in the center of the bed. "Stay there. I have something you can pass the time with." He yanked the blanket over her body and went to the closet to retrieve something.

Her curiosity got the better of her stubbornness, and she tilted her head to see around him. "What is it?"

"Just a second. I have to find it in all this mess."

Jake kept an immaculate house, and she doubted she’d find piece of lint out of place in his closet. He deliberately taunted her to keep her distracted. "I'm not getting any younger."

"Close your eyes."

"Jake!'

"Close them," he repeated, refusing to devulge further until she did as she was told.

She indulged him, but huffed impatiently.

"Okay. You can open your eyes now."

Jake towered above her, holding out a beautiful acoustic guitar. The musician in her couldn't resist the magnificent instrument, and she stroked her fingers over the highly polished wood surface. "Yours?"

"No. It belonged to my father, but he couldn't use it where he was going. He left it when he cleared out. Take it."