Ty was in a panic.
When Marissa had left this morning, Jordan’s head was stuffy, but he hadn’t had the cough that had developed throughout the morning and the fever that had spiked just now. Should he try to get the fever down? If he did that, what about the cough? Should he just walk Jordan around, hoping he’d nap, hoping it didn’t get worse? Eli wasn’t around to give his two cents. He’d gone into town for a dental appointment and then he was going to play checkers with friends at the feed store.
Ty’s patience had just about run out on all levels. Waiting to see if his son’s cough worsened didn’t seem to be a good parenting strategy. But what did he know? He’d only been doing this for a little over a month.
He dialed Marissa’s cell, but his call went to voice mail. He didn’t leave a message because he wasn’t done trying to contact her. He dialed the winery, but he was prompted to leave a voice message there, too. Then he remembered, Marissa and Jase had a meeting with a new distributor. Ty didn’t have the company name. He’d been upset with Marissa, upset with himself, upset about the situation and he hadn’t covered the bases.
But he did have a fallback plan. Kaitlyn Preston’s practice and cell number were on the refrigerator. Call the practice or call the pediatrician’s cell?
Call her cell.
Jordan was crying softly now, and Ty jiggled him as he walked.
Kaitlyn picked up.
“It’s Ty Conroy,” he said quickly. “I can’t reach Marissa and Jordan’s sick, fever of one hundred and one, and a cough, stuffy nose, too. What do I do?”
“You said a cough?” she asked calmly.
“Yes, it came on fast. He didn’t have it this morning.”
“Bring him to my office. Do you have the address?”
That was on the card on the refrigerator, too. “I do. I’ll see you in ten minutes.”
Ty knew he had to stay as calm as he could. He had to bundle Jordan up in the damp weather. He had to drive like a sensible cowboy rather than a reckless one.
And he did.
Kaitlyn ushered them back to an exam room, thoroughly examined Jordan, then looked at Ty with concerned eyes.
“I’m going to admit him for observation. He has bronchitis.”
“Admit him?” For a moment, the words wouldn’t sink in.
“To the hospital in Sacramento. I’m finished with appointments here for the day. I was just following up on patient charts. Are you okay driving him there?”
“Sure, I am,” Ty said, knowing his GPS would find the hospital just fine. It’s a shame it couldn’t direct the rest of his life.
“I’ll meet you there,” Kaitlyn said.
Ty got Jordan dressed, scared to his boot heels for his son, knowing he had to leave a message for Marissa to tell her what was happening.
An hour and a half later, dealing with enough red tape to strangle a moose, Ty sat beside his son’s crib, watching fluid and medication flow from the IV bag into his little body. Ty hoped and prayed Marissa would get his message soon and understand what was happening.
As he sat there, studying Jordan’s little face—a combination of his face and Marissa’s—as he brushed his fingers over the little boy’s dark brown hair, his warm skin, his flushed cheeks, Ty knew what was more important than anything else in this world. His son—and Marissa.
As he sat there, finally comprehending the magnitude of decisions parents had to make for their children, he understood why Marissa hadn’t told him about her pregnancy. She’d had to make decisions, for herself and for her unborn baby, that were the best she knew how to make. Coming from a broken family, a father who hadn’t loved her, a mother who had struggled to make ends meet, she’d wanted better for her son. She’d wanted stability and love and a support group that would last. She’d dismissed the idea of a dad who was a traveling cowboy because that hadn’t fit in with the best plan for Jordan.
He got that now. It had been nothing against him. She’d understood who he was and what he’d wanted. And that hadn’t seemed to be roots.
She was afraid he wouldn’t choose roots now.
Sometimes what looked good on paper didn’t pan out in reality.
The reality was—he loved Marissa. He loved her up and down, sideways and backward. She wasn’t simply his son’s mom, she was the love of Ty’s life. He should have recognized that fact in the way he liked being with her, the way she made him smile just by coming into a room and the way he felt like a better person just by being with her. Oh, he’d relegated all of it to sex and desire and the physical satisfaction they found with each other. There was no denying that. But there was so much more, and he knew she felt it, too.
At least he hoped she felt it, too. He hoped she wanted more than a father for Jordan. He hoped she wanted a husband for a lifetime.
* * *
Marissa had never been this afraid before—not ever. She’d tried to return Ty’s call. But in certain parts of the hospital, cell phones had to be turned off. Apparently the pediatrics unit was one of them. She’d tried anyway to tell him she was coming, to ask him a hundred and one questions, to be reassured that their son would be okay. But his voice mail had directed her to leave a message. She’d simply said, “I’m coming.”
Her baby was in a hospital. Her anxiety made swallowing difficult.
When she arrived at the desk in pediatrics, Kaitlyn was there talking to a nurse. Her friend spotted her, placed a chart back in its rack and came forward, enveloping her in a hug.
Marissa blinked back tears. She couldn’t cry now. She had to be strong. “Where’s Jordan?” she asked with a catch in her voice.
“Ty’s with him. I’ll take you to him.”
“I don’t understand what happened. He wasn’t that sick when I left this morning. I never would have gone. I never should have gone.”
“Ty acted when he should have. That’s what’s important. Jordan has bronchitis, but we’ll get it turned around.”
At the door to Jordan’s room, Marissa was overcome by the sight of her baby hooked up to an IV and monitors. She rushed to him, mindful that Ty was at the crib’s side, looking worried.
Ty didn’t hesitate to wrap his arm around her shoulders as she bent to kiss her son. Ty’s low voice rumbled in her ear. “His fever’s down a bit, just in the past half hour. He’s been on fluids and antibiotics. It’s going to be okay, Marissa. I know it is.”
Marissa turned to look at Ty then, and when she did, she knew she loved him with every inch of her heart. She’d been wrong not to tell him when she’d gotten pregnant. She’d been wrong to assume he wouldn’t know the first thing about being a dad, or that he couldn’t be committed because her own father had left. Because Ty was a rodeo cowboy, she’d jumped to the conclusion he wouldn’t care about his son. She’d been so wrong about that, too. He was a great dad, and whether he took the promoter’s job or he stayed on the Cozy C, she loved him.
She had to tell him that, but she couldn’t do it now when they were both so worried. She couldn’t do it now when he might think she just needed his support. Somehow she had to convince him that she could be the wife he needed, no matter what he chose to do.
He pushed his chair over behind her so she could sit by Jordan’s side. Then he found another and they waited together.
* * *
It was midnight when Ty tapped Marissa’s hand. They were seated in recliners the hospital staff had wheeled in so they could sleep in the room with Jordan.
“Are you awake?” he asked.
Yes, she was awake. Too many thoughts circled in a continuous loop in her head for her to sleep. Ty stood, took her hand and pulled her up out of the chair. A dim light shone over Jordan’s bed. A low murmur of voices, muffled footsteps and lowered lighting crept in the partially open door.
“I can’t wait any longer to tell you something,” Ty began.
Marissa’s heart started racing. Maybe she should stop him. Maybe she should tell him what she had to say first. “I have something to tell you, too.”
In the shadowed room, she saw him frown. “I know ladies are supposed to go first, but I’ve got to say this. I’ve come to some decisions sitting here by Jordan’s bedside. First of all, I’ve got to explain something. For the past several months I thought I’d lost almost everything—my ability to be physically whole, my rodeo career, a kind of life that used to matter to me. But none of that makes any sense anymore, or comes even close to what I feel for you and Jordan. Today I learned what really matters—our son and our strength as a couple. I love you, Marissa. I think I’ve loved you since high school. For sure, I’ve loved you since that night after the wedding when we made love. I know it’s a lot to take in right now, but I need to know. Will you marry me? Will you help me make the Cozy C a success? Will you give me your heart for a lifetime?”
She could hardly believe what she was hearing. She could hardly believe her dreams were going to come true.
“You want to marry me?”
“Yes, I do. I love you. I want more babies, and I want to give them the legacy of the Cozy C and the possibility of it lasting far beyond our children having their kids.”
She flung her arms around his neck and held him so tight she wasn’t sure either of them could breathe. “Yes, I’ll marry you. I wanted to tell you how much I love you and that I’d be by your side whether you wanted to be a rodeo promoter or head up a vacation ranch. It doesn’t matter to me anymore, Ty. My home and Jordan’s are with you, wherever you go, whatever you do. I don’t want you to ever doubt that.”
“It seems we’ve both been doing a lot of thinking,” he said in a husky voice.
“And feeling,” she assured him in a whisper just before his lips came down on hers.
This was going to be a Christmas she’d never forget, and one she and Ty would tell their son about for years to come.