Page 33 of The Captain's Little Girl

Cricket nodded and then froze when that small motion made her nauseous. “I’m so sick,” she whined.

“I know, baby girl. I’m getting you some help.”

She heard him moving around the kitchen and squinted as the light over the table shone into her eyes. Deciding she didn’t even care what he was doing, Cricket closed her eyes and tried to escape into sleep.

The doorbell woke her up. “Who’s here?” she mumbled.

“Rest, Cricket.” Mark’s response didn’t answer her question.

“Hi, Mark.” Doniphan’s voice registered on Cricket, and she struggled to sit up only to collapse back on the couch as sickness besieged her again. “Bring her to the table and let me see what’s going on.”

“I’m okay here,” Cricket protested as Mark lifted her into his arms and slowly brought her to the table.

“Daddy,” she whined when he didn’t leave her alone.

“I know you’re sick, Cricket, but Doniphan needs to make sure you’re okay. He’s going to help you feel better.” Mark sat her on the table covered by a sheet.

“Hi, sweetheart. I’m sorry you’re feeling poorly. River ate too many cookies as well.”

“Don’t say that word,” she moaned. “You know, the c word,” Cricket whispered before mouthing cookie at them.

“It’s a good sign if she can make a joke,” Doniphan said positively as the men tried to stifle their laughter. “Let’s undress her and lay her down on her side, facing you, and I’ll take her temperature first.”

“Not in my bottom,” Cricket argued and then fell silent as that small burst of anger sapped her energy.

The men didn’t answer as they stripped off her clothing and stretched her out on her side. Cricket tried to shield her body from Doniphan’s view, but it was too much effort. Doniphan was a nurse practitioner. She knew he’d treated all the other little girls at some time or another. The snap of his gloves made her close her eyes. Even sick, she could anticipate what was coming next.

“Just relax, Cricket. You’ll feel some lubricant,” Doniphan warned as he spread her buttocks.

The cold, slick feel of the lubricant made her shiver. Cricket knew what was coming next. He pressed the thick thermometer deep into her bottom and cupped his hand over the end to hold it in place.

“Were you sick before you went to Rosie’s?” Doniphan asked.

“No, I felt good.”

“Hmm,” the medic murmured.

When Mark started talking, Cricket listened long enough to hear her daddy telling Doniphan the facts that he knew before she tuned out the conversation. Breathing through her mouth to keep the nausea under control, Cricket was actually relieved not to hold the thermometer under her tongue. She tuned back in when Doniphan removed it several minutes later.

“No temperature. That’s good,” Doniphan shared. “Let’s turn her on to her back so I can check her tummy.”

The men helped her inch her way into the new position. Moving without making her sick definitely was a challenge. Cricket panted when she finally looked fully up into the light over the table.

“Cricket, I’m going to press on your tummy. I’ll try not to hurt you. Let me know if anything is uncomfortable,” Doniphan requested. Carefully, he palpated her abdomen as he watched her face.

“Ouch!” Cricket yelped at one point and moaned at several others.

“Good girl,” Doniphan soothed. “I’m going to check a couple more things.” He quickly changed his gloves.

“Mark, help me bend Cricket’s legs up and we’ll scoot her to the edge of the table.”

Cricket recognized that position and tried to scoot backward. Her daddy pressed on her shoulders to hold her in place. “Doniphan needs to make sure you’re okay. You don’t want to be this sick, do you?”

“No,” she wailed. “But I hate these exams.”

“You trust Doniphan, don’t you?” Mark asked, brushing her hair from her face.

“Y-yes,” she mumbled. She watched the medic pull a chair between her legs to sit at eye level with her most intimate spaces.

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