The Romeo Arrangement

A chill rips up my spine at how he says find us.

I know he’s right, though. That’s exactly what Clay did to Noelle and her husband. Got to her so we couldn’t go there.

Now, he’s targeting Ridge, and since direct threats won’t work with him, he’s trying a different tactic so we’ll leave.

“Want to give him a name, Nelson?” Ridge asks, shifting his gaze.

“Satan himself.” Dad bows his head and shakes it hopelessly.

“If you’re right, he’ll have to do better than a few cheap tabloid tricks,” Ridge says, undaunted. “I have security. High-tech cameras. A direct line to the Dallas police. You’re safe.”

“No!” Dad heaves in a breath, his eyes bulging out. “And neither are you. Not if he knows who you are.”

He breaks into a new coughing fit. I’m more concerned than ever because he can’t seem to stop.

“Here,” Tobin says, appearing at my side with a glass of water.

Dad stops long enough to take a sip, coughs again, then leans his head back, straining to fill his lungs. He’s a statue of pain, suffocating in his own body.

“Dad, forget him for a minute,” I whisper quietly. “We need to get you to the doctor.”

“No, no.” He heaves out a rattling sigh. “It’s…it’s too dangerous, Gracie. I just need some more medicine you bought me and then we’ll…we’ll…”

He looks at me with blank, confused eyes.

My heart leaps into my throat.

Tobin touches Dad’s cheek, then his forehead. “He’s burning up. We have to get this man immediate medical attention.”

I press a hand to Dad’s forehead and see how right he is. My hand feels like I just put it on a stove burner.

“Jesus,” I whisper to myself. “Where should we take him?”

“We’ll call a doctor,” Ridge says, giving Tobin a sharp look. “Find one who’ll drive out here. I don’t care what it costs, tell them I’ll pay it.”

“Right away.” Tobin rushes out of the room, his immaculately polished shoes hitting the floor loudly.

“I’ll go to the cabin and grab the medications you bought,” Ridge tells me, rising to his feet. “There has to be something to tide him over before we can get a pro out here.”

I nod while standing up.

“Here, Dad, just lie down. Don’t move.” From decorating, I know they keep pillows in the huge linen closet in the laundry room. “I’ll be right back. I’m going to get you a pillow and a nice cold washcloth.”

The way he flops into the cushions, without argument, his delirious eyes pinched shut, proves just how sick he is. I haven’t seen him so helpless since the day I found him shot and bleeding.

God. Things can’t possibly get any worse…right?

A heavy haze of fear, frustration, and dread shrouds me by the time I’ve gathered a couple of pillows and a washcloth that I run under cold water for Dad’s forehead.

I need to call an ambulance and take Dad to town, wherever the nearest hospital is. Tobin isn’t going to find a doctor to drive out here for a house call.

Both Ridge and Tobin are at Dad’s side when I return, which surprises me, because I wasn’t dilly-dallying.

It also makes it that much harder to hate him when he’s stooped over Dad’s frail figure, concern blazing hot in those starry blue eyes.

Why is it the guys who have souls also hulk out and transform into such screaming assholes?

“The doctor’s on her way,” Ridge tells me, glancing up. “Should be ten minutes or so.”

I’m stunned.

Nodding, I lay the cool cloth on Dad’s forehead.

“Rest easy. Everything’s gonna be okay,” I whisper, stroking his brow.

I can’t bear to look at Ridge because it hits me then.

Whether I like it or not, he’s the key to our lives ever being okay again.

The numbing blur of fear lingers for the next few hours as the doctor, a middle-aged no-nonsense woman, gives Dad a thorough exam.

Finally, she delivers a diagnosis—pneumonia.

At first I’m so scared I can’t breathe.

But she assures us that hospitalization isn’t our only option and recommends hiring a home health company to oversee his care for the next few days.

In hours, I’ve signed a contract for a home health agency. Ridge insisted, telling me I shouldn’t waste a second worrying about the cost.

There’ll be time for that later, I guess, but for now…

I’ll swallow my pride and put Dad’s health first.

The RN arrives later. We transfer Dad to the cabin, get him situated in bed with a portable oxygen condenser and an IV of saline solution and antibiotics. He’s out, sleeping relatively peacefully in no time.

Big relief.

It’s all been such a whirlwind that I’m dizzy, but also so thankful it hurts.

Dr. Abrams is an amazing woman. She promises she’ll be back to check on Dad the day after tomorrow, and we’ll go from there. She has a small clinic in Dallas, but she only works a few days a week.