Dusty’s stomach churned with nausea. And dread.
She had been home for nearly four weeks, and today was the day to have her follow-up blood work done. For the last week, she’d been feeling fatigued, but today she was downright ill. And sad. It could only mean one thing. The first blood test hadn’t been a fluke. Her white cell count was up because her leukemia had returned.
She finished cleaning out the stalls and pushed her hair out of her face. It would have made so much more sense to braid the long waves like she used to, but for some reason she felt she should wear it down for Zach’s sake. Stupid, she knew. Especially since it would likely all fall out in the next month or two.
Sam’s head popped in the stable. “Ready to go, Dust?”
“Yeah, just let me wash up first.”
After a quick shower, she joined Sam in the old Ford pickup, and they headed to the hospital for her blood test. Her oncologist, Dr. Lloyd, took them into his office after he had examined Dusty.
“What do you think, Doc?” Sam asked.
“Your sister’s temperature is slightly elevated, but that in itself isn’t a major concern. However, the fact that she’s been fatigued, and now nauseated, is cause for worry, I’m afraid. There was no abnormality in the white cells in the last sample, but there was an increased number. Obviously, if today’s sample shows the same thing, even if the cells aren’t leukemic, we need to be on guard.”
“And if she does have leukemic cells?” Sam hedged.
“She’ll go back on chemotherapy to induce remission.”
Dusty said nothing, content to let Sam question the doctor. She knew what was going on. She’d been there before.
“And if they’re not leukemic?”
“If the white cell count is elevated, but there are no leukemic cells, we’ll monitor her closely over the next several months. The good news is we’ve caught it early, whatever it is.”
“She was so close to her five year mark,” Sam said, the softness of his voice revealing to Dusty how worried he was.
Dusty, on the other hand, felt numb. Numb and nauseated, but not worried. That would come later tonight.
“Yes, I know. It happens sometimes. But we don’t know anything just yet. I should have the results of today’s test by Monday.”
“How am I going to get through this weekend, Sam?”
“We’ll get through it, Dust.” Sam rose and shook the doctor’s hand. “Thanks, Doc. We appreciate your help and your concern.”
“I wish I had better news for you. Perhaps I will, come Monday. I’ll call you at home, Dusty, as soon as I know anything.”
“Thank you, Dr. Lloyd.”
“Come on, Dust.” Sam linked her arm through his and they walked through the hospital parking lot to the pickup. “I’m taking you to lunch.”
“We can’t afford to eat out, Sam.”
“We can just this once.”
Dusty sighed. “I’m not hungry. Not in the slightest. In fact, I feel like I’d throw up anything you put in my stomach. So let’s not waste the money, okay? I’ll make you a sandwich at home.”
Sam squeezed her hand. “All right. If that’s what you want.”
“It’s what I want.”
* * *
“I told you I’m busy,” Zach said, resisting Chad’s pull on his arm.
Chad ignored him and ushered Zach into his mother’s sitting room in her sprawling ranch house. “We need to talk to you.”
“Not now. I’m expecting an important call from one of our distributors. I’m swamped.”