Page 147 of Cowboy Baby Daddy


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My mind immediately jumped to all sorts of bizarre possibilities. Had Helen taken a bad fall? Had she been kidnapped? The likelihood of the former was, of course, higher than that of the latter, but either seemed possible, in my panic. I forced myself to take a deep breath and calm down. Again, I was just letting the stress of whatever it was that I wasn't doing with Olivia bleed over into my emotions.

I knelt down next to Emma, and she flung herself into my arms. “Hey, sweetie,” I murmured, petting her hair. “What's wrong?”

Emma just shook her head, refusing to tell me about it, and although normally I'd urge her to use her big girl words to tell me what the problem was, I let her cry herself out against my shoulder. I was still miffed as to where Helen was; even if she'd stepped away for a couple of minutes to try to find something to bribe Emma with, she should have returned by now. Nana wasn't neglectful; even if she knew that I was here, she would have come in to make sure that Emma was alright and that I had the situation handled.

Emma fell asleep against my shoulder, making me wonder how long she'd been crying for. Maybe she just refused to go down for her nap today, I reasoned, not wanting to jump to conclusions. It wouldn't have been the first time, unfortunately. Emma was stubborn.

I lay Emma down on the sofa for the time being and covered her with a blanket. I wanted to take her straight home, but I needed to figure out what had happened to Helen.

I walked around the downstairs, but I couldn't find the woman. Finally, I headed upstairs. Helen was in her bedroom laying on the floor. I rushed to her side and checked her pulse. It was faint.

“Helen?” I asked anxiously.

The old woman blinked and cocked her head to the side as she studied me. “Oh, Eric. I fell and it hurt. I couldn’t get up.”

I did a quick check up on Helen. Feeling around for sore spots. She didn’t seem to be in much pain.

“Helen,” I started. “Are you feeling okay?”

She shook her head as tears began to fall down her cheeks.

“Do you know who and where you are?” I needed to make sure this had nothing to do with dementia.

“I’m Helen and I’ve fallen in my room.”

I was happy with her response and once I finished my assessment of her and was sure she had no injuries, I helped her get up. I asked her if anything hurt while she was standing and when she said no, I had her sit down on her bed.

I went into the kitchen and fetched her a glass of water. I also grabbed her two Tylenol pills just in case she was in minor pain. I went back into her room and sat on the bed with her. I asked her if she remembered anything about the fall. Once again, I was checking to make sure it had nothing to do with her memory.

“I remember everything. I tripped over a slipper that was sticking out. And when I fell, I just couldn’t get back up.” She was still crying some, but paused to take the Tylenol and drink her glass of water.

“Do you know how long you were on the floor for?” I asked her. I was not only concerned about her well-being but also because Emma was there and she could have gotten hurt while Helen was on the floor.

“About 15 minutes, I believe. It wasn’t too long before you got here,” she said.

Relief flooded me. I was glad to hear that it had just happened and Emma hadn’t been unsupervised for very long.

“I’m so sorry, Eric.” She said to me, patting her hand on my arm.

I turned to face her, “It’s not your fault, Helen.”

But even though she was okay and it was because she tripped, and she hadn’t been laying there for very long, I still knew that I could not risk leaving Emma with her any longer. She was getting far too old. I felt sick to my stomach. Because something could happen to Helen at any moment and if that happened, Emma could potentially be left unsupervised for hours on end.

As much as I didn’t want to keep Emma from Helen, I knew it was what I was going to have to do. I would of course, bring Emma to see Helen from time to time while I was with them.

I helped Helen get into her bed.

“You should lie down and get some sleep.” I told her, tucking her in.

“Thank you so much, Eric. I’m so sorry for Emma. Is she okay?” She asked.

“She is just fine. I promise. Don’t you worry about her.” I said to her. I didn’t want her to feel bad about what she could not control.

I stayed with her until she had fallen asleep, which fortunately didn't take long.

When I got back downstairs, Emma was still slumbering on the couch. The severity of the Nana situation caught up to me right then, and my hands clenched into fists. Who knew what could have happened to Emma while she was unattended. Of course, there were all the little things, the mischief that she could have gotten up to, but more importantly, she could have choked on something, or she could have hurt herself.

I also had to wonder if she'd witnessed Nana's episode. Imagine how confusing it would have been for a 3-year-old, for her Nana to suddenly fall to the ground and not get back up.

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