almost hadn’t been able to understand Sharla’s mother, Trixie, when she called. In between all the sobbing and wailing and carrying on, he figured out the tragic and stunning news that the newlyweds had been killed after their car slid out of control during an early snowstorm while crossing the Sierra Nevada.
In a moment, everything changed. For years, Cole had been fighting for primary custody, trying to convince judge after judge that their mother’s flighty, unstable lifestyle and periodic substance abuse provided a terrible environment for the children.
The only trouble was, Cole had plenty of baggage of his own. An ex-con former alcoholic didn’t exactly have the sturdiest leg to stand on when it came to being granted custody of two young children, no matter how much he had tried to rebuild his life and keep his nose out of trouble in recent years.
Sharla’s tragic death changed everything and Cole now had full custody of his children as the surviving parent.
It hadn’t been an easy transition for any of them, complicated by the fact that he’d gone through two housekeepers in as many months.
Now he had his sister to take care of. Whether her ankle was broken or sprained, the result would be more domestic chaos.
He would figure it out. He always did, right? What other choice did he have?
He picked up a National Geographic and tried to find something to read to keep himself awake. He was deep in his third article and the kids on to their second Christmas special before the lovely doctor returned.
She was every bit as young as he had thought at first, pretty and petite with midlength auburn hair, green eyes that were slightly almond shaped and porcelain skin. She even had a little smattering of freckles across the bridge of her nose. Surely she was too young to be in such a responsible position.
He rose, worry for his sister crowding out everything else.
“How is she? Is her ankle broken? How are the babies?”
“You were right to bring her in. I’m sorry things have been taking so long. It must be almost the children’s bedtime.”
“They’re doing okay for now. How is Tricia?”
Dr. Shaw gestured to the chair and sat beside him after he sank back down. That was never a good sign, when the doctor took enough time to sit down, too.
“For the record, she gave me permission to share information with you. I can tell you that she has a severe sprain from the fall. I’ve called our orthopedics specialist on call and he’s taking a look at her now to figure out a treatment plan. With the proper brace, her ankle should heal in a month or so. She’ll have to stay off it for a few weeks, which means a wheelchair.”
His mind raced through the possible implications of that. He needed to find a housekeeper immediately. He had three new green broke horses coming in the next few days for training and he was going to be stretched thin over the next few weeks—lousy timing over the holidays, but he couldn’t turn down the work when he was trying so hard to establish Evergreen Springs as a powerhouse training facility.
How would he do everything on his own? Why couldn’t things ever be easy?
“The guest room and bathroom are both on the main level,” he said. “That will help. Can we pick up the wheelchair here or do I have to go somewhere else to find one?”
The doctor was silent for a few beats too long and he gave her a careful look.
“What aren’t you telling me?” he asked.
She released a breath. “Your sister also appears to be in the beginning stages of labor.”
He stared. “It’s too early! The babies have to be too small.”
Panic and guilt bloomed inside him, ugly and dark, and he rose, restless with all the emotions teeming inside him. She shouldn’t have been outside where she risked falling. He told her she didn’t have to go out to the bus to pick up the children. The stop was only a few hundred yards from the front door. They could walk up themselves, he told her, but she insisted on doing it every day. Said she needed the fresh air and the exercise.
Now look where they were.
“We’re monitoring her condition and I’ve been in consultation with the best ob-gyn in the valley. We’ve given her some medication to stop her contractions and put the brakes on. It’s been less than an hour, but so far it seems to be working.”
He sat back down, relief coursing through him. “Okay. Okay. That’s good. Isn’t it?”
“It’s still too early to tell. We have to keep her overnight up on the obstetrics floor to continue monitoring fetal activity.”
“Sounds wise.”
She paused for a long moment and he tried to sort through her silence for whatever else she might not be telling him.
“There’s a chance she might have to stay longer. I just want to make you aware of the possibility. She’s a complicated case—multiple births are always a little tricky. Add in an ankle injury that’s going to make it tough for her to get around at home and possible premature labor, and her chances of needing hospital bed rest go up. I’m consulting with the ob-gyn but that’s one of the options hanging out there.”
Hospital bed rest. Damn. Could things get more complicated?
“Okay. Thank you for letting me know.”
She glanced at the children, then back at him. “You’re all welcome to go back and talk to your sister. I think she’s feeling pretty alone right now.”
He nodded and rose again. “Thanks. Kids. We can go back now.”
“But, Dad! This one is almost over!” Jazmyn exclaimed. “Can’t we wait ten more minutes to see the end?”
He fought the urge to roll his eyes. First she didn’t want to watch the show; now she didn’t want to leave until she saw the end.
That just about summed up their life together. She was never happy with anything he did. If he made pancakes for breakfast, she insisted she wanted French toast. If he tried, in his fumbling way, to put her hair in pigtails, she told him she wanted a ponytail that day.
It was driving him crazy—and he had a feeling that was part of the reason both women he had hired to help him had lasted only a few weeks.
The doc gave him a sympathetic look. “If you’d like, I can stay with the children for a few minutes until the show is over while you have a moment alone with your sister.”
Her thoughtfulness surprised him. In his experience, physicians weren’t usually so solicitous. “It’s just a TV show. She can catch it online later. I’m sure you have other patients to attend to.”
“Right this moment, no. You actually caught us on a slow night. I’ve got to answer a few emails, which I can easily do out here while you talk to your sister for a few minutes.”
He hated needing help. It was the toughest thing about being a single father, but in this case, he decided it would be stupid to argue.
“Thanks.
