Honor Bound(69)

"Like Tony?"

"Precisely Tony. Better let me up to check on him."

He moved away from her and lay sprawled on his back, watching with hot, possessive eyes as Aislinn pulled on the wrapper she'd been wearing the evening before and padded out of their bedroom.

Lucas didn't recall a time in his life when he'd been happy. He'd lived through happy occasions like birthdays and Christmases. He'd loved the times he and Joseph had hunted in the hills. He exulted in winning races at track meets. But happiness was something that other people had, people with normal families and backgrounds, people with undiluted blood, people who didn't live under stigmas, people who weren't labeled.

This morning Lucas Greywolf came as close to being happy as he ever had been. He even allowed himself to smile broadly just for the hell of it. He stretched like a sinuous mountain cat who had nothing more to worry about than what to eat for breakfast. Being happy wasn't nearly as frightening as he had thought it would be.

Aislinn, too, floated into Tony's bedroom on a cloud of joy. All the horrors of yesterday had been banished by Lucas's loving. Radiant sunlight was pouring through the windows. Her future looked sunny because she loved Lucas and had finally gotten him to accept her love.

He hadn't said be loved her, but one couldn't have everything at once. He desired her. He loved having her in his life and in his bed. Maybe love would grow out of that eventually. In the meantime, she would be satisfied with what she had. Life was good.

"Good morning, Tony," she called gaily as she entered the nursery. He was crying, whimpering actually. "Are you hungry? Hmm? Want a dry diaper? Wouldn't that feel better?"

The moment she bent over the crib, she realized that something was terribly wrong. With that inexplicable maternal instinct, she instantly realized that something wasn't right. The rattling sound of his breathing alerted her immediately. When she touched him, she screamed, "Lucas!"

He was pulling on a pair of jeans. He recognized Aislinn's cry as one of distress. He knew better than anyone that she didn't panic easily. Within heartbeats he was clearing the door of the nursery.

"What is it?"

"Tony. He's burning up with fever. And listen to his breathing."

His breath was making a hideous whistling sound as it rushed in and out of the tiny lungs. His respiration was quick and shallow. His face was mottled. And instead of making a lusty cry, which both his parents would have welcomed, he seemed barely to have the strength to mew pitiably.

"What do you want me to do?"

"Get Gene on the phone." Already Aislinn was stripping the infant and reaching for the rectal thermometer, which her baby books had advised she keep close at hand. Lucas didn't argue, deferring to her expertise in this situation. He raced through the house into the kitchen and quickly punched out the telephone number.

"Hello," Gene sleepily answered the second ring.

"Gene, Lucas. Tony's sick."

"A cold. I gave—"

"More than that. He can hardly breathe."

By now Gene had recognized the no-nonsense tone of Lucas's voice. "Does he have a temperature?"

"Just a minute." Lucas cupped his hand over the receiver and called out the question to Aislinn.

She appeared in the doorway of the kitchen, holding Tony against her chest. Her eyes were filled with fear. "One hundred and four," she whispered. "Lucas." It was a plea.

He reported the baby's temperature to Gene, who cursed. Lucas could hear Alice's voice in the background, asking of her husband who was calling and what was wrong.

"Dammit, Gene, what do we do?" Lucas demanded.

"You calm down for starters," Gene said reasonably. "Then you bathe Tony with cool water, try to get his temperature down. Bring him in as soon as you can get here."

"To the clinic?"

"Yes."

"We'll be there in half an hour or less."

Lucas hung up the phone without another word and repeated Gene's instructions to Aislinn. He finished dressing while she cupped cool water over Tony in the bathroom sink. Then they switched places. He took the baby and she slung on clothes, not caring what they were.

She diapered Tony, wrapped him in a light receiving blanket and left by way of the front door, where Lucas already had her car idling.

The clearing in front of the house was a quagmire from the torrential rain the night before. The spongy ground sucked at the tires as Lucas plowed the car toward the road. It wasn't much better. He skidded into the ditch several times, the back tires fishtailing in the mire.

Lucas's hands were clenched around the steering wheel and his back was hunched. The hard expression on his face reminded Aislinn of another time he had driven her car with the same kind of concentration. At the time that had seemed like a life-or-death situation. How tame it seemed compared to this. Now she knew the real meaning of fear: when one's child is in life-threatening danger.

The drive into town seemed to take forever. Tony's little body generated so much heat that he branded himself into his mother's breasts. He was fretful. Every time he dropped off to sleep, he would come awake choking, struggling with his effort to breath.

Gene and Alice came rushing out of the clinic the moment they saw the car race into the parking lot. "How is he?" Gene asked, opening Aislinn's door.