Within minutes, Blackie wouldn’t have cared if Julie dyed her hair purple. After he got her dressed in another T-shirt and a pair of men’s boxer shorts he’d found in one of her drawers, she was too weak to stand up, let alone walk. He feared she was getting dehydrated and decided she needed something more than occasional swallows of Pepto-Bismol, which she promptly vomited back up.

“Julie, honey, I think you need to go to the ER. I can get your robe off the hook in the bathroom to hide what you’re wearing, and I’ll carry you. You won’t have to walk. Do I have your permission to do that?”

She nodded, and that was the only green light he needed. Four hours later, he was carrying Julie back into her house. She’d been given IV fluids for two hours, and Dr. Blake, an internist who volunteered for duty at the clinic, had given her a shot for nausea. Blackie had also filled a prescription for rectal suppositories that were supposed to control the nausea after the shot wore off. Julie hadn’t vomited in over an hour, so Blackie was hopeful that the worst might be over.

“Thank you, Blackie,” she whispered when he got her situated in bed. “I feel better.”

“I’m glad.” That was an understatement. He’d fallen head over heels in love with this young woman, and he’d been truly frightened for her. For the moment, he wouldn’t allow himself to think about the age difference between them. He also wouldn’t think about that handsome doctor with his caramel-colored hair and fudge-brown eyes, who was undoubtedly a far better prospect than Blackie for a woman Julie’s age. Nope. He’d just focus on how relieved he was that she seemed to be on the road to recovery. “You’re pretty special to me.”

When Julie fell asleep, Blackie went to the kitchen. He’d fixed stuff for Julie, but he hadn’t eaten a bite of food himself since yesterday. He hadn’t realized how hungry he was until he likened the young doctor’s hair and eye color to candies. He made himself a grilled cheese sandwich and opened a can of tomato soup, one of his favorite combos. While he ate, he texted Erin to tell her that he’d taken Julie to the clinic. After giving her the necessary details, he concentrated only on eating. He couldn’t care for the love of his life if he fainted from lack of sustenance.

The love of your life? Oh, boy, old man. You’re in deep shit. But even as Blackie warned himself to guard his heart, he knew he was already a goner.

Chapter Sixteen

Over the next couple of days, Erin called Blackie during her lunch break and again when her shift ended at night. The news Blackie reported sounded positive. Julie was eating small amounts of food and feeling stronger. He predicted she would soon be back to normal, which eased Erin’s mind.

Unfortunately, Erin’s own situation had not improved. Each morning when she got up, she told herself she would maintain firm control over her compulsive urges. She wouldn’t hurry through any chore. She wouldn’t worry about whether or not she was getting something done as fast as a man could. That was easy to do while she spent time with Violet. While with the horse, Erin felt calm and centered. But the moment she left the paddock to do the afternoon chores Wyatt had assigned to her, she found herself slipping back into what she’d come to think of as her frenzy mode. She struggled to work slowly and remember all the safety rules.