The two boys got up and left the room. Owen stared at the woman who invaded his dreams. In all this time, she painted a rosy picture of him to the boys, and he imagined she did the same to spare Conner’s feelings. He saw the evident love she carried for both of them and how devastated they both appeared, feeling uncertain about their future.
CHAPTER 23
Owen sat by the bed,watching over Leslie. He glanced at the time. Where did Dillon go for this doctor? Leslie lay too still for his liking. Her skin seemed as pale as the sheets on the bed.
Rising, he picked up the cluttered floor where someone rifled through the drawers and closets, throwing everything out. Owen needed something to distract him as he worried about his little brother and his son. What did his dad do to put them all in danger?
Dillon entered with a brown-haired, brown-eyed woman, still in a doctor’s coat. She rushed to the bed, placed her bag on the floor, and took Leslie’s vitals. Owen saw her check the wound, and her brows furrowed as she concentrated on it. Taking out a swab, she scraped along the edges and put it in a glass container.
“We’ll need to start IV antibiotics, and she needs stitches. Has she come to at all?” she asked Owen.
“When I put her in the bath, she woke up for ten minutes. She didn’t like the cold water,” he informed her.
Placing a plastic sheet under Leslie’s arm, she took items from her bag and cleaned the cut, stitched it closed, and added an ointment.
“Dillon, set up the portable IV pole. She’ll need fluids, too. I’m Charlotte, by the way. You must be Owen,” she greeted as she worked.
“It’s nice to meet you. I’m sorry. Dillon hasn’t told me about you. What do you do exactly?” he asked, glancing at his brother.
“I’m a Nurse Practitioner and working on my MD. When did she last have anything for the fever?”
“The boys gave her acetaminophen about two and a half hours ago. Maybe three. I’ve lost track,” he admitted, running his hand over his hair.
“It’s fine. I expected to find her in worse condition than Dillon’s description,” Charlotte said, taking her temperature again. “We’ll start here. We waited for the CBC results. She definitely has an infection. I have everything I need. Do you have the money?”
Owen glanced at Dillon. “I’m not sure about the arrangement my brother made with you.”
“It’s a thousand dollars up front plus supplies,” Charlotte said, waiting for her payment.
Owen took out his wallet and counted out the cash. “How much for the supplies?”
“Eight hundred fifty,” Charlotte said without blinking.
“You mean to tell me it costs one thousand eight hundred fifty for the five minutes you checked her out and stitched her up?” Owen asked, raising his brow at her.
Charlotte pulled out the IV bag, a needle, and the tubing. “Don’t forget the antibiotics and the IV. Plus, I charged an extra five hundred for Dillon standing me up on a date.”
“He doesn’t live around here,” Owen exclaimed.
“It happened in high school. I’m known for holding grudges. I did a favor for you. It’s a steal, and I’m legit,” Charlotte reasoned.
“Yeah, you’re legit. Then why do you insist on charging me for a date he missed in high school?” Owen said sarcastically.
“You can add an extra hundred for the sarcasm. I dropped studying to rush this,” she argued.
“Dillon, I’m not paying for your lack of manners. Although I’m beginning to wonder if you made the right choice,” he muttered.
Dillon handed her some cash. “What if she gets worse?”
“Then, I suggest you visit the ATM first,” she said, stuffing the money in her bra. Taking an alcoholswab, she cleaned Leslie’s arm and started the IV. A few minutes later, she administered the antibiotic.
“I’m taking my books downstairs to study. Call me if she worsens or wakes,” she told Owen.
“Did you include it in your cost?”
She grinned cheekily. “It depends on what you’re having for dinner.”
When she left, Owen turned to his brother. “Where in the hell did you find her?”
