“Honestly, I should probably just get Mia and head home.” She tried to stand, but the room spun around her, and her vision began to tunnel. This was not good. Not good at all.
“I don’t think you should drive if you’re not feeling well,” Clara placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. “Just sit tight. I’ll go get Spencer?—”
“No!” She didn’t mean to shout but the words flew from her lips. “No, you don’t have to get him. He’s busy. I’ll be fine in a few minutes. I just need a second to regroup.”
She could tell she wouldn’t be fine, though. The nausea was getting worse, the flush of fever spiking higher. This was just the beginning.
She thought about taking a drink, but it only made her stomach ache more. She could call her parents. One of them could stay with Liam while the other came to get her. She could retrieve her car later. In her muddled head, that made the most sense. All she needed was her cell phone, which was currently in her purse, placed on the bench out by the barn. It would be too much to ask Clara to get it for her. She would just have to suck it up and do this herself.
“I really am feeling much better,” she lied. She hadn’t seen Clara in years, let alone interacted with her. The last thing she wanted was for the poor woman to play nurse. What an awkward reunion for the two of them. “I’m going to head back out to the barn.” Then, realizing she hadn’t touched the ginger ale, Trinity took a quick sip, instantly regretting it. Her mouth watered bitterly. “Thank you again, Clara. So good to see you.”
It was nothing but blackness at the edges of her vision, a clammy sweat creeping up her neck as she stood from the couch and left the house. The last time she’d felt this bad was back when she was pregnant with Liam and she’d had horrible first trimester morning sickness. She sucked in a sharp breath through her nose and let it out through her lips while shegripped the railing that led from the front porch down to the walkway below.
The barn was close enough that she could make it even with her vision blurred. All she had to do was follow her daughter’s laughter which was thankfully much louder than the ringing in her ears.
She could feel a single bead of sweat drip down her spine. This was awful. Would she really be able to safely drive home in this condition? She knew she shouldn’t. She would have to call her parents as soon as she reached the bench with her purse and phone.
But before she could stumble her way forward, Spencer called out, “Trinity?” And then, “Hey, Mia, how ‘bout you go check on Doodlebug for me? You can give him a treat from the jar that we used for Bluebell. I’ll be in to check on you in a minute.”
Just as Trinity reached out for the back of the bench, Spencer rushed over to grab her shoulders and lower her much more gently than she had intended. On her own, she would have collapsed.
“You’re burning up.” With his face only inches from hers, she could clearly see the concern etched in the tightness of his buckled brow. And when the back of his hand pressed to her forehead, she edged even closer to passing out than she had moments earlier. “Trinity, you’ve got a fever.”
“I know.” She drew in a shuddering breath. “I think I caught whatever Liam had. I’m going to call my parents to see if they can pick us up and take us home.”
“I’ll take you.” His hand was still on her forehead, heating up her skin even more where he touched. “Let me get Bluebell put away and then I can drive you both.”
“You don’t need to do that.” Had she been this embarrassed in recent times? If so, she couldn’t remember it. Her cheeks weredoubly pink now from both her high temperature and her utter humiliation. She doubted she’d ever been this shade of red. “I’m so sorry.”
And then, just when she thought things couldn’t get worse, she burped. Oh, no. No, no, no. She could feel the bile rising up her throat and the panic setting in.
“Trinity.” He said her name again, but softer this time, nothing but tenderness behind it. “If you need to be sick, it’s okay. I’ve got you.”
It certainly was not okay. She was a grown woman. She was not about to throw up in front of Spencer, a man she barely knew. Plus, she knew it would alarm her young daughter to see her in this condition. Forcing another breath, she unzipped her purse to locate a peppermint which she quickly unwrapped and popped into her mouth. It helped take the nauseous edge off, but only minimally.
“Mia.” She locked eyes with Spencer. Her daughter had been out of their sight for several minutes now, and she didn’t like the uneasy feeling creeping up on her.
“She’s good.” Spencer withdrew his phone from his back pocket, swiped across the screen, and pulled up a camera monitoring system app. “Look.” He held the phone close enough for Trinity to view Mia standing inside Doodlebug’s stall, brushing the small pony’s unruly mane while she hummed the song her class had been practicing for the fall festival. Both looked as though they were on their best behavior and having the time of their lives. “They’re safe,” he assured.
With that knowledge, Trinity relaxed enough to press her back to the bench, shut her eyes briefly, and focus on her breathing, the only thing keeping her from losing her lunch in the dirt next to them.
But she probably should have left her eyes open. If she had, she would have seen Spencer lift his arm, and she wouldhave noticed the way his fingers gently reached out to brush her sweat-matted hair from her forehead. The tenderness of his touch, the slight hesitation before his hand made contact…it would have been apparent. If she’d seen all of that, she wouldn’t have flinched when she felt the unexpected warmth of his fingers against her skin.
“I’m sorry.” Spencer yanked his hand back. “I wasn’t?—”
“It’s okay,” she said, because it was. Despite the shock, there was something comforting in the way he stroked her hair back into place. But even more than that, it was the genuine concern in his eyes that made her feel safe in a way she hadn’t in so very long. She’d had a difficult time regulating her breathing earlier, but this simple act took her breath away completely. She gulped.
“I’m going to call my parents.”
He didn’t look like he was going to challenge her on that. His voice was quiet when he said, “Okay,” but his eyes didn’t leave hers, and his concern didn’t falter.
“Thank you again for everything with Mia today.” Trinity still felt out of sorts, but she didn’t know if she should attribute that to the illness or to Spencer’s lingering gaze that made her feel like she was being studied. “You’ve made her entire day. Month really. Probably even her year.”
“She’s a good kid,” he said. “You should be proud.”
That was one thing Trinity definitely was. Pride didn’t even begin to scratch the surface when it came to her feelings toward her children. “Thank you. I’m doing my best with her. With them.”
“It shows.”
