Page 37 of The Cowboy and the Baby

NOELLE

When I woke up . . . who knew when . . . my hips hurt like I’d been rolling across hard concrete, and my joints felt swollen and stiff. Opening my eyes required a Herculean effort. Goodness, I’d never felt so weak in my life.

Through the back of my mind pulsed hot, scary, and panicked thoughts. But I hadn’t quite connected with my brain enough to know what I was afraid of. Was there something I was supposed to do?

Yes, there was. But . . . what? I wouldn’t be much good here, because even as I tried to nudge my thoughts into cohesive lines, I slid ever-closer to sleep. My arms jerked, body twitched, eyes blew open.

Wait.

When my teeth gave a light tremor, I realized that the misery went deeper than sore hips and weak limbs. I felt a depth of cold all the way through my muscles, like icicles radiating from the inside out. Shivering, I tried to reach for another blanket, but felt several already piled on top of me. Heat blazed from my cheeks. I had enough mind left to register that I was half-loopy with sickness, and remembered what I had forgotten.

My child.

With a surge of determination, I tried to shove the blankets off, but only managed to push them from my shoulders. Cold air rushed in to attack like a swarm of tiny Ginsu knives, and I couldn’t fight my groan. Another tremor kept me from pushing off the bed. I could barely fight off the heavy blankets.

“Take it easy,” said a soothing voice. “There’s no rush to get out of bed, unless you’re wanting to shovel snow. There’s plenty of that coming down.”

Bleary-eyed, I peered through bloodshot eyes to see Cade enter the room. His cowboy boots didn’t announce him, like usual, nor did his tightly-fitted jeans swish together. He wore a pair of socks, loose sweats, a long-sleeve tee, and his hair had an adorable, tousled look on top.

Delicious.

Casual.

I was so delirious.

My eyes closed, which had to be the fever’s doing, because no healthy woman would end such a lovely sight. Did I imagine the note of concern in his gaze as he headed toward me? Probably. Right now, the world swirled.

For cripes sake, I had to resemble a troll. But I didn’t care. I just burrowed deeper beneath the blankets and requested death. I might have mumbled something—I couldn’t be quite sure—because his laugh rang out.

“Well, that might be a bit dramatic.”

“Lily?”

“Fine. She’s fine. Cody is holding her right now. Don’t panic. He’s pretty good with babies and he’s also terrified of her, so he won’t leave the couch. Your fever is up again. Here are some more fever-reducers. Chug some water, while you’re at it. Your body needs it.”

The wise suggestion sounded wonderful. My throat was a parched and broiling desert. But the reality was something else. He thought I had the power to hold a glass of water? I laughed. It may have sounded like a sob.

“C’mon,” he urged, peeling the covers back.

I squawked.

He laughed.

“I know, I know. You feel colder than death, and you’re hotter than a fire. But this will help, I promise.”

Somehow, I managed to take the pills without choking and drain the water, but he had to hold the glass. The moment I finished, he covered me up again, and I retreated to my safe cocoon.

The next thing I remembered, I blinked my eyes open to see an empty room, a general haze of lightness in the window that seemed to indicate falling snow, and I fell into the fever again.

My return to reality happened by degrees, and after snatches of sleep.

At first, I could sense my body without pain, and then a general awareness of noises that surrounded me. Was I in my room? Yes. No. Grandpa’s room, not mine. Or, wait! Grandpa died, and I was here. But the house wasn’t mine, because . . . Cade.

Right.

Cade.

An awareness of Lily surfaced next. I heard no screams, smelled no foul diapers. Cade reassured me that he cared for Lily, and based on the occasional noise from without, she seemed to have survived?