CHAPTER 10
BLAIRE
R uby clung to me with her breath hot against my collarbone as I carried her into June’s house. The booster seat I’d found in June’s mudroom was still in my car.
“Come on, sweetheart.” I shifted her higher on my hip as I kicked the door shut behind me. “Let’s get you to the couch.”
She didn’t argue. Her hands wrapped around my neck as I moved through June’s living room and laid her down against the worn cushions.
I dropped down beside her, brushing her hair out of her face. Her skin was warm, too warm, and I caught myself smoothing my palm over her temple as if it would draw the fever out of her.
“I’m going to get the thermometer and some Tylenol,” I said softly.
Shit. I hoped June had children’s Tylenol. What if she didn’t? What if Ruby’s fever got worse? I’d never been responsible for a sick child before, and June still wasn’t home.
I wiped my sweaty palms on my shorts and pulled the worn, threadbare blanket off the back of the couch and draped it over Ruby’s small frame. She burrowed deeper into the couch, her flushed cheek laying against her curled fingers.
I moved quickly and ducked into the downstairs bathroom, yanking open the medicine cabinet. I pushed aside scattered Band-Aids, a crusty tub of Vicks, and a collection of ancient lipsticks before landing on a digital thermometer.
Digging deeper, I finally found a bottle of children’s Tylenol, half gone, with “Ruby” scrawled across the label in June’s handwriting.
In the kitchen, I poured apple juice into a small cup and soaked a washcloth under the cold tap before I moved back to Ruby’s side. I kneeled beside her and laid my hand against her cheek. The heat radiating from her skin made me anxious.
I pressed the thermometer to her forehead, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear as it beeped to life. Ruby’s eyes were on mine as it beeped again, and I pulled it away to look at the small screen. One hundred and two point six.
My pulse spiked.
I wasn’t her mother. I was just the girl who happened to answer the phone, the girl dumb enough to go pick up her ex’s sick kid.
I grabbed the Tylenol, flipped it over, and scanned the dosing chart.
I cursed under my breath. The dosage was by weight, not age, and I had no idea how much Ruby weighed.
The bottle was a blur of numbers and warnings, and my hands shook as I pulled out my phone along with June’s that she’d left behind when she went to bingo.
I bit my lip as I scrolled through June’s contacts, finding Colt’s number and copying it into my own phone.
Blaire: Hey, it’s Blaire. Ruby and I are back at June’s. Her temp is 102.6. How much Tylenol do I give her?
I pressed send, then stared at my phone. The text bubbles appeared, and I pressed the back of my hand to Ruby’s cheek again, while I waited for him to answer. Her skin was still so hot, and her lashes fluttered as she looked up at me, wanting comfort I barely knew how to give.
Ruby’s bright blue eyes locked with mine, and without thinking, a half-forgotten lullaby of “You Are My Sunshine” slipped from my lips.
The same one my mama had hummed whenever I’d needed her.
My fingertips traced along her hairline, mimicking a touch I hadn’t felt in years, and I startled when my phone finally vibrated in my hand.
Colt: 7.5 ml. Is she okay? I’ll be there soon.
I stared down at the screen, relief flooding me so fast my fingers trembled, before I squeezed the medicine into that little plastic cup.
“All right, Ruby girl. Open up for me, okay?”
She clamped her mouth shut and shook her head.
“Don’t do that.” I rested my elbows against the couch and held up my right pinkie. “I pinkie promise it will make you feel better.”
Ruby hesitated for another moment before she wrapped her small pinkie around mine and we shook.
Then I slid my hand around the back of her head, helping her sit up a little, and she opened her mouth as I tipped the thick red syrup in. She swallowed, then grimaced.
Relief rushed through me. I felt out of my depth, and I didn’t want to mess this up.
“That stuff tastes like butts,” she groaned, and I couldn’t help but laugh.
“Here. I got you some juice.” I held the cup up to her, and she took a small sip before letting her head fall back against the pillow. I pressed the cool washcloth to her head before I tucked the blanket tighter around her.
“Can we watch a movie?” Her voice sounded so small, and I hated it.
“Of course.” I climbed up onto the couch beside her and found the remote. “Do you want to pick?”
“ Tangled ,” she said without a second thought, and I quickly found the movie and hit play.
I picked up my phone and texted Colt back, not wanting him to worry more than he already was.
Blaire: She’s okay. We’re watching Tangled. There’s no rush, Colt.
The three blue dots bounced across my screen, but they disappeared before they bounced again.
Colt: Thank you. I’m about to head back to the big house to get my truck.
I let the phone fall to my chest, my anxiety easing a little as I listened to Ruby hum along to the opening song. I rotated the washcloth after a few minutes, trying to keep it cool, and Ruby stared up at me with sleepy eyes.
“Can I come by you?” she whispered, voice hoarse and hesitant.
“Of course,” I said and stretched out an arm.
Ruby wriggled herself upright, the blanket trailing behind her, and shuffled to where I sat. She tucked herself into my side so naturally it almost hurt. She curled up, her knees against my thigh and her head against my chest, and her fever warmed through my shirt.
I soaked in the small shudders of her breaths. Her body was so small and tired in my arms, but she melted into me like she belonged there. I pressed my lips to her temple hesitantly, and she sighed.
I could hear the movie playing, but it faded behind the sound of her breathing and the way my heart thumped a little too fast.
She wrapped her hand around mine, the two of us linking fingers, and we watched the movie together until she finally drifted off to sleep against me. I rotated the washcloth again, cooling in slow cycles, before I’d smooth the hair off her forehead over and over.
Every so often, she’d twitch in her sleep, her small fingers clutching at my shirt like she was afraid I might disappear.
I shifted carefully, lifting her higher against my chest, and swung my legs up on the couch.
I settled us down, careful not to move too much and risk waking her.
My arm was going numb beneath her, but I didn’t care.
My palm skimmed over her forehead, cooler now than before.
The scent of her shampoo filled my lungs as I rested my cheek on the top of her head.
I barely knew Ruby. It had only been three days, for crying out loud, but I already felt fiercely protective of her in a way that made me want to hold her until there was no room left between us.
I’d spent years building walls, and this girl had somehow slipped right through them.
I had no claim to her, but my body was reacting as if I did. I was reaching for her, soothing her, and every part of me wanted to make sure that no part of her was hurt.
Ruby shifted restlessly in her sleep, and I trailed my finger gently down the bridge of her nose like my mama used to do to me. Her nose twitched once before she settled, a tiny whistling snore escaping with each breath.
I grinned as I watched her and ran my finger over her nose repeatedly, tracing the tiny freckles scattered across the bridge.
Her mouth popped open, pink lips forming a perfect little ‘O’ that puffed warm breath against my wrist with each slow exhale.
The sun still poured in through the living room windows, and it seemed to draw out every little line and marking on her face that my gaze drank in eagerly.
My phone buzzed on the armrest, the vibration loud enough to make me jump, and I snatched it up before it could wake Ruby. I hugged her against me, one arm curled protectively around her small shoulders as I shifted us slightly.
Senator Monroe flashed across my screen, and a photo of my father popped up with the same smugness on his face I’d always hated. I hadn’t spoken to him since I left North Carolina, and I’d ignored every call, every text, and every email.
But as I stared down at his face now, I froze, torn between the urge to hurl my phone across the room and the desperate need to answer it. Wanting my father’s approval felt like a bad habit I’d never quite kicked, a reminder of the years of longing when he’d wanted nothing to do with me.
I didn’t need his approval anymore, and I reminded myself that I didn’t want it. But I also knew exactly how loud my father could get when he didn’t get what he wanted, when he thought he was being ignored.
I hit the green button with my thumb, steeling myself. “Hello.”
“Blaire.” His voice traveled down the line with a snap, and my spine stiffened. “It’s about time you finally answered. We’ve been worried sick.”
My father’s sigh raked down the line, a long, measured sound, and I heard the faint clink of ice in a glass. Always a drink, always this slow orchestration of his disappointment.
“I’m fine. I’m at June’s.” I repositioned Ruby, holding her so close I could feel her slight breathing against my chest.
The silence that fell was surgical, precise, the kind that builds and builds until you’d do anything to break it. I knew that silence. My father wielded it like a weapon often, and I could feel his disapproval through it now.
My being at June’s was like salt in an old wound.
They made their mutual hatred for one another crystal clear when my father appeared on June’s doorstep after years of absence.
He had demanded I pack my things and leave with him, and I could still hear June’s voice cracking as she stood in the doorway, arms spread like she could physically block him from taking me.