LITMIR.BIZ

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INSISTED THAT her father call Elise and tell her that Blair was sick and needed her. Todd was reluctant, but he badgered Blair until he got the number. He called her.

      Niki never knew what was said, but her father came out of his office cold-eyed and angry.

      “Is she coming?” she asked.

      Her father made a rough sound in his throat. “She said that’s what doctors are for, getting people well. She doesn’t do illness, and she doesn’t want to be exposed to what he’s got anyway. There’s a ball tomorrow night in Vienna. A friend is taking her.”

      Niki felt sick to her stomach. What sort of woman had Blair married, for heaven’s sake?

      “It’s not our business,” her father reminded her.

      “He was so kind to me, when Harvey attacked me,” she recalled. “I thought he’d found a nice woman who’d want to have children and take care of him.”

      “Fat chance, that woman ever having a child,” her father scoffed. “It might interfere with her social plans!”

      She sighed. “Well, we’ll take care of him.”

      “Mrs. Hanes and I will do that, until he’s no longer contagious,” her father emphasized. “I’m not risking you. Don’t even ask.”

      She smiled and hugged him. “Okay, Daddy.”

      “That’s my girl.” He kissed the top of her head. “Poor guy. If it’s this bad and they’ve only been married a year or so...” He let the rest of the sentence taper off.

      “Things might get better,” she said. But she didn’t really believe it.

      “They might. Let’s have Mrs. Hanes fix us something to eat.”

      “I’ll ask her.”

      * * *

      EDNA HANES HAD been the Ashtons’ housekeeper for over twelve years. She was as much a mother as a housekeeper to Niki, who adored her. When Niki had her sick spells, Mrs. Hanes was the one who nursed her, even when her father was home. He was a kind man, but he was out of place in a sick room. Not that he’d ever been unkind to his daughter. Quite the opposite.

      “She’s not coming, then?” Edna asked Niki about Blair’s wife.

      “No. There’s a dance. In Vienna,” she replied with a speaking glance.

      Edna made a face. “He’s a good man, Mr. Coleman,” she said, pulling out pans to start supper. “I hate to see him married to someone like that. Wants his money, maybe, and not him, as well, but had to take the one to get the other.”

      “He said she was beautiful.”

      “Beautiful isn’t as important as kind,” Edna replied.

      “That’s what I think, too.”

      “Pity you aren’t older, my girl,” Edna said with a sigh.

      “Why?” Niki asked, smiling.

      Edna forgot sometimes how unworldly the younger woman was. “Nothing,” she said quickly. “I was just talking to myself. How about mincing some onion for me, and I’ll get this casserole going!”

      “I’d be happy to help.”

      * * *

      BLAIR WASN’T DOING WELL. Niki managed to get into his room the next day while her father was out talking to his foreman and Edna went shopping.

      His chest was bare, although the covers were pulled up to his diaphragm. He had a magnificent chest, she thought with helpless longing, broad and covered with thick, curling hair. Muscular and manly.

      He opened bloodshot, feverish eyes to look at her as she touched his forehead. “You shouldn’t be in here,” he said in a gentle tone. “I might be contagious.”

      “I’m not worried. Well, not about me. You should be better by now. When an antibiotic starts working, you can feel the difference.”

      He drew in a raspy breath and grimaced. “He gave me penicillin. It usually does the trick.”

      “Maybe not this time. I’m calling him right now.”

      She went out the door and phoned the doctor.

      He was perturbed that she was trying to nurse Blair. “Listen, if you get it again, it might go into pleurisy,” he argued.

      “Now, Doctor Fred,” she teased softly, “you know I’ve just finished a course of antibiotics. I’m not likely to pick anything up. Besides, there’s nobody else to do this. Edna has her hands full just with meals, and Daddy’s in the middle of a business deal. Not that he’s a nursely sort of person,” she laughed.

      He sighed. “I see your point. Isn’t Coleman married? Where’s his wife? Did you call her?”

      “There’s a ball someplace in Europe where she has to go dancing,” she said, the contempt in her voice unmistakable.

      “I see.” His tone was noncommittal. “Well, I’ll phone in another prescription, something stronger, and a stronger cough syrup, as well. Try to get some fluids into him. And I don’t want to have you wind up in my office...”

      “I’ll be very careful, Doctor,” she promised, thanked him quickly and hung up.

      * * *

      LATER, SHE SENT one of the ranch’s cowboys into town to get the new medicines, which she’d coaxed out of the poor, harried pharmacist, a friend from high school.

      Blair grumbled when she came in with more medicine. “Niki, you’re going to come down with this damned stuff,” he complained.

      “Just be quiet and take the nice tablet,” she interrupted, handing him a glass of orange juice with crushed ice.

      He frowned. “How did you know I like this?” he wondered.

      She laughed. “I didn’t. But I do now. Come on, Blair. Take the pill.” She coaxed his mouth open and dropped the large tablet in.

      “Bully,” he muttered in his deep voice.

      She only grinned.

      He sipped the juice and swallowed. He winced.

      “Oh, gosh, it’s acidic. I’m sorry. I’ll get you something less abrasive. Gatorade?” she suggested.

      “I’d rather have the juice, honestly. I do wish I had—”

      “Some cough drops?” she finished, digging in the prescription bag. “How fortunate that I asked Tex to bring some. And you can have the cough syrup, too.”

      She pulled a spoon from her pocket and poured out a dose of the powerful cough syrup the doctor had prescribed.

      He took it, his dark eyes amused and affectionate as they met hers. “Your father’s going to raise hell if he catches you in here.”

      She made a face at him. “Edna asked me earlier if you’d like something light for dinner. An omelet? She makes them with fresh herbs.”

      He hesitated. “I’m not really hungry,” he said, not wanting to hurt Edna’s feelings. He hated eggs.

      “I like eggs. We have fresh ones most of the year, when our hens aren’t molting.” She paused, her eyes narrow on his broad, handsome face. “You don’t like eggs, but you don’t want to trouble anyone,” she blurted out. “How about chicken noodle soup instead?”

      He laughed. “Damn. How did you figure that out?”

      “I don’t know,” she said honestly.

      “I’d really rather have the soup, if it’s not too much trouble,” he confessed. “I hate eggs.”

      She grinned. “I’ll tell Edna.”

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