Chapter 43

43

Dixie was just about ready to clock out for the day and get away from Dr. Shane Lowell before she strangled him when the pneumatic doors to the ER slid open.

“Dixie!” a tall, beautiful man yelled her name. She dropped her bag. They’d had yelling in the ER before, of course. Drama went with trauma, after all. But by name? “Dixie, it’s Dylan! Hurry! Help her!”

She stepped closer to the man standing there. “What’s wrong? Is she hurt?”

Fletcher was paler than she had ever seen him, terror in his Tyler blue eyes.

Her baby sister was practically limp in his arms, wrapped in a quilt. Dixie wasn’t even certain she was conscious. “What happened?”

“She just stood up, looked at us and fell forward. She’s burning up, but she’s shivering too,” one of the Tyler twins—guys, not girls—said. He sounded just as panicked. “She’s been like this the entire drive from Fletcher’s. We can barely get her to wake up.”

Dixie touched her sister’s head gently. Not exactly protocol to touch patients right away, but this was her baby sister. Dylan was definitely burning up. “Did she hit her head when she fell? Has she been sick?”

Dorie had had a touch of a virus, as had their mother. Dixie had taken care of and checked on them herself. But this…

“She’s been fine,” Fletcher said. “Or at least I thought she was. I should have seen something wrong. I should have.”

“She was air-guitaring with Reese just a few hours ago, though,” the twin said. So he was Kaece. It was really hard to tell those gorgeous creatures apart, even though she’d known them for decades. “She sounded, looked just fine then. She was talking about making chili and then baking fresh bread and oatmeal cookies. We found her practically like this, about two hours later. We were outside.”

“I should have checked on her,” Fletcher said. “I thought she looked a little tired, I thought it was because she’s worked like fifty hours this week and still helped me at home. I just thought she was tired.”

Dixie winced. That boy was panicking. No denying that. Fletcher and hospitals were not a good mix. But she remembered why and she understood. He’d lost his mother from a bacterial infection when he’d been around eighteen or nineteen. A few weeks later, Dusty had nearly died in his arms. Fletcher had carried Dusty into the hospital that day too.

“What if it’s the same thing that happened to Dusty back then?”

“It’s probably not, Fletch. She has a high fever. Has she been vomiting?” She had no doubt he would know. She suspected he was as up in Dylan’s business as Ben was up in Dusty’s.

Those Tyler men were beyond what mere mortal men were capable of being.

Nate Masterson came over.

“What have we got going on, guys?” he asked, in his big rumbly voice.

The other doctors on call tonight were right there too.

“Let’s get her into a room,” Shane said.

Dixie suspected getting Fletcher to step back was going to be a bigger problem than they realized. He wasn’t going anywhere and had a death-grip on her sister. “Fletch, I’ll stay with her. Why don’t you go to the lobby. Call Ben?”

You know, get your brother here to keep you calm and out of the way and everything?

“I’m not leaving her. Reese and Martin were calling the inn, the rest of you. They were with us when we found her.”

Dylan opened her eyes and looked around for a moment. “Dude, this is so not our ceiling, Fletchie darling. Totally the wrong color and the lights really hurt my eyes.”

Her words were weak, but they were there. Fletcher pulled in a deep breath.

“You are at the hospital, brat. We brought you here. You scared me.”

“Don’t feel so great. Someone needs to call Marin. Can’t cover the desk tonight.”

“No, that you can’t,” Dixie said as Cloe came in. Dixie couldn’t take care of her sister now. Against hospital policy, but she wasn’t leaving her.

Nate and Eric and Shane were there. They got Dylan from Fletcher and onto a gurney. They were big, strong men, and Dylan looked so small.

Dylan looked so young, so breakable. It scared Dixie. No denying that. This was her baby sister—she might not have had her forever, but this was her sister, too.

Cloe took her stats. “Temp, 103—” She rattled off the numbers.

They weren’t good. Nate hit the button to send an alert. They would need more hands now. Dylan’s pressure was too low. Her heart rate too high. Dixie’s mind just kept running over what it could be as she stood by her sister’s head.

Laney came in. Dixie stayed out of the way—keeping one hand on Fletcher’s broad chest. He just stood there, watching.

Like his entire world was on that gurney.

Dylan cried out. Laney had inserted the catheter for the IV now. Fletcher flinched.

Nate leaned over her. “Dylan, you are at the hospital. Dr. Paterson is going to be taking care of you.”

“It hurts.”

“Where? Tell me. Dixie is here too. We’re going to take care of you.”

“Where’s Fletcher?” she asked, in the smallest voice. “He’s here, right? He’s okay?”

“I-I’m right here, honey. Just worried about you.”

“Okay. Good.” She jerked, almost jackknifing right in front of them. “My side. Stomach—side. Really hurts. Think…flu. Feels bad…”

Dylan almost screamed when Eric pressed on her lower right abdomen. Dixie knew what was coming next the instant Eric and Shane started tossing out phrases she’d heard before. Laney was already grabbing for the supplies she’d need for a blood draw.

Shane was already on the phone, calling for an OR and a CT scan first. Thank God Eric was the on-call surgeon tonight. He was just right there. No waiting for him to get there. Dixie knew as the words flew around exactly what the most likely diagnosis was.

“Is she allergic to anything?” Shane asked.

“I don’t think so. She’s never said.” Dixie was going to sit every sister she had down first chance she had and get updates on all medical conditions and key facts. She’d just keep it in her phone at all times, from now on. Her cousins, parents, aunt and uncle, too. Just in case.

“Just aspirin,” Fletcher said. “She’s allergic to aspirin. It gives her hives. What’s wrong with her?”

Dixie looked up at him. She wrapped one arm around him. He looked ready to rip Dylan off that gurney and into his arms right now.

Dixie looked into his eyes. That’s when it clicked.

He loved her.

Dixie’s heart hurt for him now. Fletcher really loved her baby sister.

Another Tyler had bitten the dust. When a Tyler man fell, he fell hard. No denying that now.

“From initial assessment,” Nate said. “It’s most likely a ruptured appendix, but we’re going to have to confirm that.”

“So what happens now?” Fletcher asked.

“We’ll take her upstairs, run a few more tests, and then, if it is her appendix, we’ll move on from there. Get things taken care of,” Nate said. “Why don’t we step outside? Give the team room? Dixie can stay with her. She’s de facto next of kin now.”

“I—”

Nate led Fletcher from the room. He was probably the only one who could.

Dixie stayed by her sister’s head, out of the way as they prepped her. Dylan’s eyes blinked again. She looked right at Dixie, the freckles on her cheeks darker than usual. She just looked so young.

Dylan just looked at her. Dixie pressed her forehead to Dylan’s briefly. She’d only had her for four months, but this was her sister. And it hurt to see her like this. “You’re going to be okay, baby sister. I’ll make sure of it.”

“Me? I’m tough as nails. Just…keep an eye on Fletcher for me, okay? Just for a little while.”

“I’ll do that.” But for now, she wasn’t going to leave her sister alone.