Page 82 of Sawyer
In sickness and in health.I understand what those words mean now.I’ve never really thought about it before.I’ve never really nursed anyone like this.I threw my suit jacket off the minute I walked in the door earlier; my tie is lying around here somewhere too—probably with Noah since he seems almost obsessed with them.With my shirtsleeves rolled up, I’ve been running to get water and buckets and checking temperatures nonstop, and I wouldn’t change it for the world.Although I prefer them all to be healthy, being here and looking after them is where I know I need to be, so my calls and messages can wait.
With the sound of her vomiting on the other side of the paper-thin door, Kevin dry retching down the hall, and the faint sounds of the TV cartoons floating down to me from where Noah sits in the living room, it’s in this moment that I know I’m completely and utterly in love with her.I still as the realization hits me.
I’m in love with her.
I’m in love with a woman whose head is stuck in the toilet bowl, who could decapitate me with one flick of her garden hoe, and who has two boys who could probably take me down in a monster spray fight.
I, Sawyer Silvers, billionaire lawyer to the country’s most wealthy, am in love with a country girl.I take a deep breath and look around the room with renewed vigor.
When she opens the door and steps out of the bathroom, even sick as a dog, she’s the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.
But now’s not the time for romance.
“I think I need to take you both to the hospital,” I tell her wearily.“You’re pale.Clammy.You can’t even keep water down.I should’ve taken you both hours ago.”Grabbing my cell, I text Hudson so he can meet us there.
“We’ll be fine,” she says but then starts to sway.I jump up to catch her as she loses strength in her legs, almost fainting.
“Nope.We are going.Right now.”Picking her up bridal style, I walk her outside, straight to my vehicle before I do the same with Kevin, putting them both in my truck with buckets and tucking Noah safely in his car seat.
I don’t have a good feeling about this.And my gut is rarely wrong.
“Well, you were right,”Hudson murmurs.
“Usually am,” I quip back.It’s late.Noah’s asleep in my arms, dribbling on my shirt as we sit in Hudson’s office at the hospital.Annabelle and Kevin are in a shared room down the hall, now both sleeping with IVs in their arms, administering both liquids and medication.
“Got the test results back already.It wasn’t just a stomach bug.”Hudson looks at me in a way that has my senses on high alert.
“And?”I run my hand up and down Noah's back smoothly, as he’s completely dead weight in my arms.Poor kid should be in bed, but he didn’t want to leave his mom and wouldn’t lie down anywhere else but in my arms.
“It’s come back that they have both ingested glyphosate.”
My head rears back.“What the hell is that?”
“It is a toxin commonly found in weed killer.”
“What?”I’m confused, already shaking my head.“How?”
“Well, both Annabelle and Kevin have been pretty happy and active lately, giving me no indication that this is related to self-harm…” Hudson trails off, and my jaw twitches.
“Of course it’s fucking not,” I spit out, and he shakes his head.
“As a doctor, I need to eliminate all possibilities.With that eliminated, there’s only one other option.”
I bite my back molars so hard I’m surprised they don’t crack.
“They unknowingly ingested it,” he confirms.“What did Annabelle last eat again?”
“She said that Noah didn’t eat dinner last night, but she and Kevin did.Just some pasta and vegetables from her garden.”
“Well, it’s most likely that they’ve eaten something that was from her garden that she had sprayed.”
“That makes sense, but she doesn’t spray.Her farm is completely spray free.She doesn't put any pesticides or other things on her crops.She runs a completely organic farm.I haven’t even seen a bottle of weed killer around her place.Plus, I’ve eaten her vegetables before and never been sick.Hell, she and the boys have vegetables from their garden every night, and nothing like this happens.”
While I haven’t spent much time in her shed, I know she treats those flowers of hers with the utmost care and attention.I also know Gertie’s business plan outlines the organic nature of the flowers, meaning weed killer would be a big no-no for them.
“Maybe she did a produce swap with a neighbor?Maybe she got some vegetables from someone else?”
“She didn’t mention it.And she was with me all weekend, up until last night.She said she just had dinner at home and went to bed, mentioned nothing about seeing anyone or doing a produce swap, whatever the fuck that is.”I rub my head, having no idea what these farmers do.
