Only Mine (Fool's Gold #4)(55)
“I hope you’re right,” she said, her voice oddly thick. It was only then, she realized she was crying.
She dropped her head into her hands and gave in to the tears. A couple of seconds later, Hannah woke up and started crying, too. The baby rubbed at her ears, as if they hurt her.
“It’s okay,” Dakota said quickly. “It’s all right, sweetie. I have some medicine right here.”
She dug out the Tylenol and measured the dose. The plane was amazingly steady, for which she was grateful.
“You’re saving my life,” she told Finn. “I couldn’t have done this on my own. I don’t know how to thank you.”
“Just hang on.”
She nodded, then offered Hannah the baby spoon. The little girl turned her head.
“Come on, sweetie. Take the yummy medicine. It will make you feel better.”
After offering it a couple more times, Dakota lightly touched the girl’s nose, then stroked her cheek. Hannah parted her lips, Dakota slipped the medicine inside, and the girl swallowed.
But whatever bothered her was too much for an over-the-counter remedy. Or the child was tired, or maybe scared. After all, she was surrounded by strangers. Whatever the reason, she cried louder and harder, her whole body shaking with her sobs. Dakota tried rocking the car seat and rubbing her tummy. She sang to her. Nothing helped.
Through the rest of the flight and the car ride to the pediatrician, Hannah screamed. The sound wrenched at Dakota’s heart and made her feel nauseous. She didn’t know what to do and knew that her ignorance could put an innocent child at risk. What had the agency been thinking—giving her a child?
Finally they pulled up in front of the pediatrician’s office. She got Hannah out of her car seat, wrapped her in a blanket and carried the still-screaming infant into the waiting room, Finn close behind her.
Dakota, crying as well, could barely speak her name. The receptionist took one look at the two of them and motioned to the door on her left.
“Vivian will show you right into a room.”
“Okay. Thanks.”
Dakota looked at Finn. “I don’t know how to thank you,” she said over the baby’s crying. “You don’t have to wait. I’ll call my mom and she’ll come get me.”
Finn brushed her cheek with his fingers. “Go. I’ll wait. I’m not going to leave you now. I have to see how this all ends.”
“You’re a good man. Seriously. I’ll talk to someone about getting you a plaque.”
One corner of his mouth curved up. “Nothing too big. You know I’m all about it being tasteful.”
Despite everything, she managed a smile, then turned and followed the nurse into the examination room.
CHAPTER TWELVE
“THE KEY TO GOOD PARENTING is to keep breathing,” Dr. Silverman told Dakota. “Seriously, if you pass out, you’re no good to anyone.” The pediatrician, a petite blonde in her late thirties, smiled.
Dakota wanted to shriek at her. Did the doctor think this was funny? Nothing about this was funny. It was horrifying and potentially life threatening, but not funny.
As soon as Dr. Silverman had walked into the examining room, Hannah had stopped crying. She’d submitted to the detailed exam with barely a sound and now lay in Dakota’s arms, her hot body limp.
“She’s exhausted,” the doctor said. “That trip wouldn’t be easy on anyone. I’m sure she’s scared and confused. Her life hasn’t been easy. Adding to that are the other problems.”
Dakota braced herself for the worst. “The fever?”
The doctor nodded. “She has an infection in both ears and she has her first tooth coming in. She’s way too small for her age, which isn’t surprising given her circumstances. I don’t love the formula they’ve been using, either.”
She looked at the can of powder Dakota had given her. It was the same one Sister Mary had left with Hannah’s things.
“All right,” the doctor continued. “We’re going to start her on a course of antibiotics. I don’t like to use them for ear infections, but under the circumstances, she needs the jump to get better.”
Dr. Silverman explained how to administer the medicine and told her what to expect with the combination of fever, first tooth and potential digestive upsets. They went over how to slowly transition Hannah to a more easily digested formula, and she offered suggestions on how much to feed her and how often.
“Normally at six months she’d be starting on solid foods, but I want you to hold off on that for at least three weeks. Let’s get her healthy and her weight up a little. Then you can begin the process.” Dr. Silverman explained how to make sure Hannah didn’t get dehydrated.
“Do you have someone to help you?” the doctor asked. “The first few days will be the most difficult.”
“My mom,” Dakota said, trying to absorb all the information. “I have sisters and friends.” Not to mention all the women in town who would step in.
“Good.” The doctor pulled a business card out of her white coat pocket. “I’m on call this weekend. If you need me, the answering service will be able to get in touch with me.”
Dakota took the card and sighed. “Thank you. Is there any way I could convince you to move in with me for the next couple of years?”