Page 21 of Landry (Bayou Brotherhood Protectors #7)

“Mama!” A plaintive little voice nudged Landry from sleep. He blinked his eyes open to stare up at the ceiling of a room which, at the moment, he couldn’t remember.

Movement on the bed beside him brought back the memories of where he was, with whom and what had happened in that bed.

“Coming!” Camille called out, her voice hoarse. She rolled out of the bed, stepped into a pair of panties, pulled a T-shirt over her head and ran from the room.

Landry shot out of the bed, dragged on his jeans and followed, zipping as he went.

When he entered Ava’s room, his gaze went first to Camille holding her daughter, then to the window.

It was closed.

He crossed to it and checked the lock. Still engaged.

“Oh, baby,” Camille was saying. “You’re so warm.”

“I don’t feel good,” Ava said. “Am I going to die?”

Camille shook her head. “No, baby. You’re not going to die. You just have a little fever. You just need some medicine to make you feel better.”

“I’m cold,” Ava said, her teeth chattering.

“I know, honey,” Camille said. “It’s the fever. It makes your body hot, but you feel cold inside.”

Landry hated seeing little Ava so small and sick, dark smudges beneath her eyes, and her face flushed pink with fever. “Where’s the medicine?” he asked, wanting to help any way he could.

“In the kitchen, in the cabinet over the microwave.”

Landry hurried out of the room and sprinted down the hallway into the kitchen.

He riffled through the cabinet, reading labels until he found one marked for children that advertised for fever.

He grabbed the bottle and an oral thermometer.

In another cabinet, he found a child’s plastic cup, filled it with water and rushed back to Ava’s room.

Camille sat on the edge of the small bed, holding her daughter, rocking gently and singing a song about a unicorn.

Ava sobbed softly. “I don’t feel good.”

When Camille spotted Landry, she held out a hand. “Here’s Mr. Landry with your medicine. It’ll make you feel better.”

Landry handed Camille the thermometer. “Check her temperature first.”

Camille stroked Ava’s face. “Sweetie, open your mouth. I need you to put the thermometer under your tongue.”

Ava’s forehead bunched, but she did as she was told.

Camille settled the thermometer under her tongue, waited the required time then took it out.

Landry leaned closer, wanting to know what the gauge read.

“One hundred and two.” Camille glanced up at Landry. “The doctors don’t usually get worried until it’s up another degree or two. If the medicine doesn’t bring it down, I’ll take her in.”

Seeing the beautiful, active child so not herself made Landry want to rush little Ava to the emergency room. But the last thing he needed to do was lose his shit when they needed him to be calm, collected and helpful.

“How much does Ava weigh?” Landry asked.

“Thirty-five pounds,” Camille said.

He handed her the cup of water, opened the bottle of medicine and shook out one tablet. He dropped to his knees beside Ava’s bed and held out the chewable tablet. “Hey, princess.”

“I’m not a princess,” Ava said and sniffed.

The tear that rolled down her face gutted Landry. “You are to me,” he said. “You’re strong, brave and kind to everyone. Isn’t that what princesses do?” He placed the tablet in her hand.

Ava nodded. “Good princesses are kind.”

“And brave,” Landry insisted.

“And strong,” Camille added, smoothing a lock of black curls back from Ava’s forehead. “Chew the pill, sweetie. It’ll make you feel better.”

She took the pill from Landry and stared at it. “What about Billy Ray? He’s sick, and he doesn’t have a pill.”

“We’re going to find him,” Landry said.

The little girl, with eyes as blue as her mother’s, met and held his gaze. “You promise you’ll find Billy Ray?”

He nodded, praying he could fulfil that promise. “Yes, ma’am. And we’ll get him some medicine to make him feel better, too.”

For a moment, she stared at Landry. Finally, she nodded, put the pill in her mouth, chewed and swallowed.

Camille gave her the cup of water to wash it down.

Ava drank a sip, then settled back in her mother’s arms and closed her eyes. “I had a bad dream.”

Camille stroked her hair from her forehead. “It’s okay, Ava. It was just a dream.”

“An alligator tried to get us,” she whispered.

Camille met Landry’s gaze, her eyes filling with tears.

Ava had not been as asleep as they’d hoped and had possibly already succumbed to whatever bug she’d caught.

Landry’s heart pinched hard in his chest. He wished he could take all the bad things out of the child’s mind along with the sickness to make her feel better, happy and carefree as a child should be.

Camille pressed a kiss to her daughter’s forehead.

“You’re going to stay with her, aren’t you?” Landry said softly.

Camille nodded.

Landry adjusted a pillow against the iron headboard. “Let me take her for a moment while you get situated.”

After Landry lifted Ava into his arms, Camille lay back against the pillow, slipped her legs between the sheets and held out her arms.

Even though he’d only held the child for a short time, Landry could feel the heat of her fever. “Are you sure we don’t need to get her to the ER?” In his head, he was already calculating how long it would take to get her to the nearest hospital in Thibodeaux.

Camille shook her head. “I’ll monitor her temperature. The medicine should bring it down. If she’s not better by morning, I’ll take her.”

Landry laid Ava in the bed beside her mother and pulled just the sheet up over her little body.

Camille turned on her side, facing Ava while holding the little girl’s hand in hers.

For a long moment, Landry stared at the mother and daughter, his heart melting. There had to be something he could do.

He left the room, hurried into the bathroom and found a clean washcloth. He ran cold water over it, squeezed out the excess moisture and returned to Ava’s bedroom.

Gently, he laid the cool cloth over Ava’s forehead.

Camille smiled up at him. “Thanks. You should get some sleep.”

He couldn’t sleep knowing Ava was sick with a fever, and he didn’t want to leave them, but Ava’s bed was already too small for two people, and there was nowhere to sit other than on the floor.

Landry walked back into the living room and stared at the couch.

He wouldn’t be able to sleep there, not knowing whether Ava’s temperature was still high.

Sleeping in Camille’s bed was out of the question without Camille.

When he spotted the wooden rocking chair, he grabbed it, carried it into Ava’s bedroom and set it beside her bed.

“You can’t sleep in that,” Camille said.

“I’ll be fine. Get some sleep. I’ll keep an eye on Ava.”

Camille reached out with her hand.

Landry took it in his and held it until Camille fell asleep beside Ava.

After an hour, he stood and touched his hand to Ava’s forehead. Her skin was warm and damp, but not nearly as hot as it had been before the medicine. She moaned and mumbled in her sleep.

Camille reached out a hand and stroked her cheek. “You’re okay, baby. Mama’s here.”

Ava responded by turning her cheek into her mother’s palm and sighing.

Landry sank into the rocking chair and counted the minutes until the next hour had passed. He rose, carefully inserted the thermometer under Ava’s tongue and waited for the results.

When he read the gauge, he was marginally relieved that her temperature had dropped by a degree. He wouldn’t be happy until it was back to normal and the sweet little girl was smiling and healthy once more.

An hour later, he rechecked her temperature. It had gone up half a degree. Landry wet the rag again with cool water and laid it across Ava’s forehead.

Each time Landry checked on Ava, Camille spoke softly to her daughter, reassuring her that she was all right.

As the gray light of dawn edged through the window, Ava’s temperature had gone down below one hundred.

The tightness in Landry’s chest eased. He sat back in the rocking chair and allowed his eyes to close just for a minute.

When he opened his eyes again, he assumed he’d only closed them for a minute. But the sun was shining through the window.

His gaze shot to the bed.

Camille wasn’t there. Ava lay against a pillow, her pale cheeks no longer flushed red from fever. She lay so still it worried Landry.

He leaped to his feet and leaned over the little girl, watching for the rise and fall of her chest.

When he couldn’t see much movement at all, he placed a finger beneath her nose to feel for her breath.

“She’s alive,” Camille said behind him.

He turned to see her standing there with a mug in her hand, the scent of coffee filling the air.

“When she was a baby, I would do the same thing you just did. I’d worry that she wasn’t breathing and watch for the rise and fall of her chest. When that didn’t reassure me, I’d feel for warm air coming from her mouth or nose.

” Camille’s lips twisted. “You don’t realize just how fragile life is until you have a child.

Then you spend the rest of your life worrying about their health and happiness. ”

Landry sighed. “Why do people have children?”

“I always wanted children,” Camille said. “It might be selfish of me to say this, but I need to be needed. I need to love. I couldn’t imagine life without Ava in it.”

The love shining from Camille’s eyes as she gazed at her little girl made Landry’s heart squeeze hard inside his chest. He’d never known such a pure love. And if ever a child deserved that kind of devotion, it was Ava—sweet, kindhearted Ava, who worried about a runaway boy over her own safety.

“Is she going to be okay?” Landry asked.

Camille smiled. “Yes. The fever broke. She just needs rest. I usually take her with me to the store, but she needs to spend the day in bed. I’ll have to close the store for the day.”