The next few days are uneventful. I don’t run into Travis, either at the ranch or in town—where I show my face only once to get groceries. I spend most of my time on set, behind the safety of security gates. By the time Friday comes around, I’m close to being back to my normal self. And not just me, the production is back on track as well. All smooth sailing, like Winthrop demanded.
In my room at the B&B, before going down to breakfast, I scroll through my notes from last night to make sure I haven’t forgotten anything for today’s and tomorrow’s shoots. As I turn the last page and read the schedule for Sunday, my heart sinks. The day after tomorrow is the date of the Dubois County Fair. I’ll need to attend the event since part of my negotiation with the mayor was that he let my crew shoot enough external footage for all of the movie’s carnival-like scenes. Cliff will build a stand at the fair for the wide shots, while all of the close-ups have already been shot back at Lake View Acres.
On the downside, there’ll be no avoiding the mayor at the fair.
I close my eyes and sigh. Even if I haven’t seen him all week, thoughts of Travis have been crowding my mind every day from dawn till dusk. Actually, whether I’m asleep and dreaming about him or awake and worrying about the next time we’ll run into each other, he’s been on my mind night and day nonstop. I’ve tried to keep busy and not think about him, but I can’t help it. And now I’m getting anxious at the prospect of seeing him again.
Oh, for goodness’ sake, be a grownup. I sound like a teenager who wants to skip school after her crush turned her down.
You’re a tough woman, Samantha Baker. And you’ve held your own against bigger fish.
Right.
I stuff my notes in my bag and head down to breakfast, ready to tackle the new day. But as I enter the kitchen, something is off. Instead of bustling around with pots and pans, Willette is seated on a chair with her head in her hands.
“Willette.” I rush to her side. “Are you okay?”
Travis’s mother looks up at me with a glazed-over stare while beads of sweat dot her forehead.
I touch her temple. “Oh my gosh, you’re burning up. Come…” I help her to her feet. “I’ll bring you to your room.”
Willette’s bedroom is on the ground floor so that she doesn’t have to take the stairs all the time. But even if her room is close, she’s a dead weight to carry, and it takes us forever to reach her bed. When I finally drop her onto it, her head lolls to the side, her lids already half closed.
Celia didn’t come home last night, so Willette and I are alone.
“Willette.” I shake her gently. “Is there someone I can call, a doctor?”
She mumbles something unintelligible.
Should I give her a Tylenol to reduce the fever? Maybe, but I don’t want to hand out medications to an elderly woman without knowing her medical history.
Fluffy comes into the room and looks at me interrogatively.
I pat the foot of the bed. “Come here, keep her company while I decide what to do.”
There is only one thing to do.
With a heavy sigh, I exit the bedroom and go back to the kitchen to retrieve my phone from my bag. I don’t have Travis’s personal number. But I know where to find him.
I search online for the mayor’s office number and dial with a mix of resentment and anticipation.
“Emerald Creek mayor’s office, good morning. How can I assist you?”
“Hello, this is Samantha Baker, I need to speak with the mayor urgently, his—”
Before I can finish the sentence, the secretary cuts me off. “Hold on, please, I’ll see if he’s available.” The line cuts to classical music.
She put me on hold! I groan in frustration and tap my foot impatiently, waiting for the secretary to come back on the line.
She keeps me waiting for a minute or so before the line clicks back. “Hello, Miss Baker, the mayor is in a meeting at the moment. Did you want to leave him a message?”
I grip the phone so hard I’m afraid it might crack. “If this is him playing hard to get again, you can tell him that his mother is burning up with a fever and I don’t know what to do. Should I call an ambulance or a doctor to see her? Please tell the mayor I’ll be waiting here until someone shows up. Have a nice day.”
I hang up before she can reply.
I hate not knowing what to do and being powerless to make things better. So I google what to do in case of a high fever. All websites agree the most important and basic thing is to keep the patient hydrated. Fresh water seems like a pretty safe remedy to administer, so I fill a glass and bring it back to Willette’s room.
She looks like she’d normally be light as a feather, but when her body is a dead weight, she’s heavy to move. With great effort, I manage to shift her to a half-reclining position and make her drink half the glass.
Aware there’s nothing else I can do, I sit on a chair next to the bed and keep vigil alongside Fluffy.
About ten minutes later, the screen door bangs open and Travis calls out, “Mom!”
Guess the mayor broke a few speed limits to arrive here in record time.
“In here.” I poke my head out of the room. “She’s sleeping now.”
Travis rushes out of the kitchen and I’m not ready for the ball of emotions exploding in my chest as I see him again for the first time after our kiss. Can a person become incrementally more gorgeous in just a few days? Then, as I take in his worried-sick expression, I get a grip on my inner lust.
Travis rushes into his mother’s room and kneels beside the bed, taking her hands into his. I avert my gaze. Partly because this is a private moment between a son and his mother and partly because if I have to add ‘incredibly sweet’ to Travis’s qualities, I might lose it.
I’m about to leave the room when Travis calls me back. “Wait. What happened?”
Pausing on the threshold, I give him the facts. “When I came down this morning, she was slouched at the kitchen table and burning up. I helped her into bed, called you, and gave her water. Sorry I couldn’t do more, but I didn’t know what else—”
“Thank you,” Travis cuts me off. “I mean it.”
“No problem. I really did nothing.”
“The doctor will arrive soon,” Travis says. “When you go, please leave the gate open so Dr. Randall can drive straight up.”
I nod and exit the room. And I know I should go to work. Willette is in safe hands, a doctor is on the way, and there’s nothing more I can do. Still, I sit at one of the mismatched chairs in the kitchen and wait.
The doctor, a short, balding man in his mid-fifties, arrives five minutes later.
“Hello,” he calls from the porch.
I usher him in, give him a brief account of the morning’s events, and direct him to Willette’s room. I don’t feel like going back inside, so I sit on the porch swing. The screen door opens again five minutes later, and Travis walks out. He takes a few steps out before he spots me and freezes.
“You’re still here.”
“I wanted to make sure your mom is okay.”
Travis nods. “Did you have any breakfast?”
“No, but I’m not hungry. Maybe just a cup of coffee?”
Travis retreats inside and comes back out shortly afterward with two steaming mugs of coffee. He hands me one and sits next to me on the swing.
I take a sip of coffee and am surprised to find it sweet and with a retro taste of vanilla.
“How do you know how I drink my coffee?”
Despite the worry-lines marking his forehead, Travis smirks out of the corner of his mouth. “City girls, so predictable…”
“Ah, bet you’re drinking a very original black americano instead!”
“What if I was having a Cinnamon Dolce Latte!”
“You’re so not!”
Both corners of his mouth curl up now, and I’m relieved he doesn’t look as worried.
We sit in supportive silence, sipping coffee and waiting for news from the doctor.
The short man comes outside a few minutes later, and Travis immediately springs up from the swing.
“How is she?”
“Nothing life-threatening,” the doctor says. “I suspect it’s pneumonia, which, at Willette’s age, can be dangerous.”
Travis rakes a hand through his hair. “How did she get pneumonia in this heat?”
“I’m afraid it’s viral, but I took a blood sample to make sure.”
“Is viral worse?”
“Not necessarily, but I can’t just prescribe antibiotics to make the infection go away. The disease will have to run its course.”
“How long will it take?”
“Anywhere from a week to a month.”
“Anything we can do in the meantime, Dr. Randall?”
“I gave her something to abate the fever and wrote out a prescription.” The doctor hands a sheet of paper to Travis. “She’ll have to take two more pills today. But I don’t feel comfortable prescribing anything else until I’ve checked the blood sample. I’ll get back to my practice and let you know right away. In the meantime, she shouldn’t be left alone. At least for a couple of days and nights.”
“I’ll move in the spare bedroom downstairs, Doctor.”
My heart does three or four somersaults in my chest at the announcement. Travis is moving in with me? Well, not with me… with his mother. But… po-tay-to, po-tah-to…
Travis and the doctor shake hands. Then the little man goes, and the mayor turns back to me, our eyes locking.
I swallow.
The silent staring becomes unbearable, so I give him back my half-empty mug of coffee saying, “I’d better go to work now.”
Then I literally flee the premises.