15. Chapter 14
Chapter 14
Hudson
The midday sun beats down on the top of my head and shoulders. Hank and I have been pulling and replacing fence posts to expand the garden at Mom and Pop’s for a couple of hours. Since being back, I’ve been splitting my time between here and Hutch’s, and we’ve nearly got the new dock ready out at his place.
When I showed up this morning, he asked me if I’d be interested in helping out around here on a more permanent basis once the twins are born. I’d thought he was fucking with me at the time because, like me, Hank rarely asks for help. But ever since Wren got pregnant, he’s been different. He’s got a family to think of now, and even though he loves this ranch, I’d bet my left nut that he’d give it all up in a heartbeat if Wren asked him too. Not that she would. She loves it just as much as he does.
The thought doesn’t necessarily excite me, and its hard fucking work with long hours. He can hire someone if he needs to, but part of me feels obligated to help. Maybe obligation is too strong a word. Duty is probably more accurate. Either way, I told him I’d think about it. I’m still considering Trevor’s offer to help out at Roxy’s. I know it’s not owning my own place or anything, but if I had to choose between helping with the ranch or the bar, one is definitely more appealing than the other.
I’ve just tossed a rotted fence post to the side and picked my shovel back up when my phone rings. It’s Finn’s ringtone, and I fish the phone out of my back pocket. The picture I took of her and Paige in front of the Rockefeller Christmas tree last year lights up the screen.
“Hey, Jameson,” I say and clamp the phone between my shoulder and my ear. Sweat rolls down my forehead and I swipe it away with the back of my wrist.
“No, I’m sorry,” a woman’s voice says. “Is this Hudson?”
Confusion wrinkles my brow, and I briefly pull the phone away from my ear to look at the screen. “Who’s calling?”
“My name is Shelly, and I’m a guest here at Timber Haven. Finnley asked me to call you.”
“Is she all right?” I ask, apprehension simmers to life in my chest.
“I’m not really sure,” she says. “She’s not feeling well, and she doesn’t look good.” My heartbeat thuds in my ears. I don’t know this woman, and yet, I can tell by the tone of her voice that she’s worried.
I drop the shovel I was just using and tug off my gloves, already moving toward Hank across the garden. He’s leaned against his own shovel, eyes questioning, but he straightens when he clocks the look on my face.
“Can you put her on the phone?” Anxiety immediately coils low in my gut, and every step of my boots sliding on the loose soil feels like walking through sludge.
Hank lifts his chin at me, a question in his face.
“Yes, just a minute,” the woman named Shelly says, and I hear a bit of muffled shuffling.
“It’s Finn,” I tell Hank. “Something’s wrong.”
His brow furrows at my words and he nods once. “Go,” he says .
“Can one of you get Paige?” I don’t wait for an answer as I turn and make a beeline for the driveway.
Just then, I hear Finn’s voice, quiet and weak in my ear. “Huddy?”
Oh, thank God, she’s coherent. At least for now. Still, the second I hear her voice, I break into a jog toward my truck, not stopping when I hear Mom and Wren call out from where they’re relaxing on the porch of my parents’ ranch house.
“Are you ok?” Shifting the phone to the other ear, I pull open the door and climb into the stifling heat of the truck.
She moans. “I need you.”
Hearing those words so weak and mumbled so desperately kicks up my heart rate with barely contained panic. It’s only five minutes from the ranch to the B have her call. I don’t want to hang up with you.” I try to keep my voice even, but it’s almost impossible when I don’t know what the fuck is happening with her.
Even as I say it, I know it will be at least forty-five minutes before an ambulance will make it clear the fuck out here to Timber Forge and another forty-five to a hospital. And that’s on a good day with no traffic. I can be there in five, but since I can’t get much out of her, I don’t know how to help. I’m also mentally kicking myself in the ass because I knew something was going on with her, and I ignored red flag after red flag.
“No, I just need you,” she repeats. “Please hurry.”
Hearing her this way makes my stomach drop, and her refusal of emergency services has me clenching my jaw and gripping the steering wheel tight. She’s so damn stubborn. I mentally force myself to think. If this was Paige, what would I do? I run through a list in my head of things I would check. I thought I’d be prepared for Paige in the event of a medical problem, but I never thought it would be for Finn.
“I’m on my way. Is your pump working?”
“Are you here yet?” she asks, instead of answering me. Confusion isn’t good.
“Not yet. But I’m on my way.” I slam my foot on the accelerator and fly down the road leading away from the ranch. “Have you eaten? Could it be too low, like the other night?”
“I don’t think so.”
She doesn’t think she’s eaten, or she doesn’t think it’s low? She’s not making any sense.
“Can you look at your app? Your pump? Something? Can you give me a number?” I hear a sigh and then a thud like she’s dropped her phone. “Jameson?”
“Hudson, it’s Shelly. She’s vomiting.”
“Can you look on her phone for me? She’s diabetic. The app for her CGM, it’s black and it has an ‘NS’ in a black box for the logo,” I tell her.
God, the wait is excruciating.
“I don’t see it,” she says, her voice a little wobbly. There’s a pause and I hope to Christ she’s looking more.
“Is she ok? Is she able to talk now?” Sweat trickles down my spine when I think of what could happen if I don’t get to her in time .
“She’s ok, but she’s drinking some water.” I hear her ask Finn about her CGM app, but Finn is either not talking or she’s so quiet that I can’t hear her over the blood rushing in my ears.
“Ask her to check it,” I bite out, gripping the steering wheel as I come up on someone in a thresher going at a sloth’s speed in front of me. It’s wide as fuck and I can’t get around him. I briefly consider parking my truck and running the rest of the way, but then I’d have to waste time looking for Finn’s keys to take her to the hospital. Also, I can’t risk that if her car is blocked in by a guest vehicle. Minutes matter in these situations, especially clear the fuck out here.
I hear her weak voice. “It’s high. Tell him it’s too high.”
Finally, the turn off for Chicory Lane comes into view and the guy in the thresher is able to move over slightly. I fly past him faster than I should be going, but the road separating my family’s ranch house and the B&B is rarely traveled at this end because the only turnoff ends with Timber Haven Inn.
The farmhouse that Wrenley grew up in comes into view, and I see Finn’s car parked at the front of the gravel drive and one other car I am assuming belongs to Shelly. I pull into the driveway next to the garage so I can still get out in a hurry.
“I’m here. Where are you?” I ask Shelly, jumping out of the truck with the phone clamped between my ear and shoulder.
“Out back, by the garden,” she tells me.
My heart is in my throat, and when I finally spot Finn, she’s slumped in a chair next to the garden with her head in her hand. Her shoes are dirty as well as her hands and her hair is tied back in a braid, some wisps hanging over her face. Dirt is smudged on her forehead and gloves are discarded nearby, along with a small shovel and trowel.
A woman I’m assuming is Shelly stands bent at the waist near Finn, talking softly. She looks up when she sees me. She’s maybe midfifties and tall, and by the dirt on Finn’s knees and Shelly’s shoes, I’m guessing she helped her up from the garden and into the chair she’s sitting in.
Finn looks up at me as I approach, and her eyes fill with tears. I crouch down in front of her and bracket her face in my palms. Her skin is warm—too warm—and flushed, and her lips are dry and chapped. The garden is currently shaded by the giant weeping willow, but God only knows how long she was out here.
My eyes roam her face, and the back of my throat stings when emotion tries to bubble up out of my throat. I clear it and force my voice to come out strong. “Are you ok?”
She nods, but she’s lethargic and her head barely moves.
“Your pump?” I ask. Dropping my eyes, I search for evidence of the small device. Paige
wears a tiny fanny pack around her waist, but Finn has always kept hers in her pocket.
She shakes her head but doesn’t speak. What the hell does that mean? Did she forget it? How does that even happen?
I pat her down, checking her pockets for her pump. Nothing. I can see her sensor stuck to her arm, but there’s no tubing. There should be tubing. I consider pressing her for more information, but the more vital issue at hand is getting her insulin, help, or both.
“Her phone?” Shelly hands it to me, and thankfully, it’s still unlocked, having just disconnected from our call. My thumbs fly over the screen, eyes scanning for the app that I know she and Paige both use for their CGMs. I find it easily after a couple of swipes and click into it. The reading shows HIGH. I know from Paige’s CGM, that is not good.
Slipping her phone into my back pocket, I take her face in my hand again. God, she’s so pale, even with the flush to her cheeks, and her eyes are kind of glassy and unfocused .
“Can you stand?” I ask. She’s weak and sick, but now that I’m here, some of the panic I felt before subsides a little. Her number is dangerously high. She wraps her arms around my neck and tries to stand.
Not wasting any more time, I climb to my feet and scoop her up into my arms. She lays her head on my shoulder and lets out a contented sigh.
“Who’s working tonight?” I ask, looking down at her.
“Allie,” she says, not lifting her head.
Once I’ve got her settled in the truck, I turn back to Shelly, who has followed us out front.
“I’m going to call another employee to cover, but if you need to leave—"
“I’ll be here. There isn’t anywhere I need to be. My husband and sons went hiking with our friends and won’t be back for a few hours,” she says.
I thank her and climb into the truck, shutting the door behind me. I gently shake Finn’s leg “Just hang on, ok?” I tell her, brushing a few loose strands of hair off her cheek with one hand while cranking the engine with the other.
She cracks an eye open and nods. Pulling out her phone, I realize it’s locked. I grit my teeth. “What’s your passcode?”
“Your birthday,” she says weakly.
Something unfurls in my chest at her reply, but I don’t have time to unpack that right now So, I tap out the digits and then scroll to find Allie’s contact.
Allie answers on the first ring, and after I fill her in on what’s happened, she assures me she’ll be here in thirty minutes to take over for Finn.
“Thanks, Allie,” I say and hang up. Throwing the truck into reverse, I say to Finn, “I’m taking you to Red Lodge.”
“No,” Finn says, and it’s the first time it comes out clear. She’s adamant. She tries to sit up from her slumped position, but a wave of dizziness must hit her because she drops her head back to the window with a groan. “Just take me home. ”
I glance in her direction and huff out an irritated sigh. “We have to take you to the hospital, Jameson. You don’t look good.”
She shakes her head, obstinately. “No.”
God, she’s so fucking stubborn.
“You’re not thinking straight. You need to see a doctor. I don’t even know what your blood sugar is by now. This is seri—”
“No!” she says forcefully and then winces, rubbing her forehead. “Just home.”
Confusion creases my brows, and I grit out through clenched teeth, “What? Why?”
“I can’t afford a hospital stay,” she says, trying to force herself to sit up. Finally shifting to rest her elbows on her knees, she drops her head into her hands and sniffs. A tear rolls down her cheek. “Just...please take me home.”
I will argue with her about this if I have to. “Your insurance will cover it,” I start.
“No,” she says. “It won’t.”