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Jasper licked his lips, his hungry reaction the only response as he glanced at his mother, suddenly torn.
Rhys had to hand it to Tony. He’d found the best way to ease the boy into accepting their help. Of course, there wasn’t a Moretti man in existence who didn’t think with their stomach.
Tony knelt down, purposely making himself appear smaller—a futile act, given the man was well over six feet tall and about that broad. “I only ask because my aunt Berta is upstairs, and she makes the fluffiest, most delicious pancakes you’ve ever tasted. She drowns them in butter and maple syrup. Seems to me that might be something you’d like.”
Tony’s aunt Berta was likely still in bed asleep, but again, Tony was using everything in his arsenal to convince Jess she would be safe to come inside. She already seemed less hesitant with the knowledge another woman would be present.
The little boy’s hunger won out. “I love pancakes,” he said enthusiastically. “And bacon!”
Tony chuckled. “Come on. We need to get your mommy out of the cold air and some of those pancakes in your tummy.”
Jasper’s love for his mother took over when he turned his attention back to her, appearing to notice her distress for the first time. “Mommy. You’re shaking.”
“I’m o-k-kay, Jasper. I’m not sure… We c-can’t impose…s-should g-go.” Jess’s inability to reason things out—like the fact she’d just admitted they were out of gas, so they weren’t able to goanywhere—concerned Rhys. Hypothermia was dangerous if left untreated, and there was no way he was letting her leave until he made sure she was okay.
“No,” Rhys said more firmly, ready to drag her out of the car if necessary in order to treat her. “You know I’m a doctor, Jess. You’ve clearly been out in the elements too long. I want to do a quick exam of you—and Jasper,” he added, though it was clear the boy had been better insulated against the cold, indicated by his lack of shivering and the healthy pink hue of his cheeks. Jasper appeared to have escaped their night in the car relatively unscathed. The same couldn’t be said for his mother.
While Jasper could be coerced by food, Jess’s kryptonite was clearly her son. At the mention of examining him, she glanced back at Jasper. “Is h-he okay?” she asked, genuine concern—and fear—in her tone.
“Let’s go inside and I’ll have a look,” Rhys said noncommittally. They needed to get her warm immediately. If she continued to refuse, Rhys was going to have to let Tony steamroll through the situation. He was sort of surprised by the level of patience his friend was currently showing. Tony wasn’t the type to ask for something twice.
“F-fine,” Jess said, turning around to reach for a huge bag on the passenger seat next to her and pulling the strap over her head. It took her several attempts to pull the car keys from the ignition. Rhys started to reach in to do it, but he didn’t want to spook her. He figured the only reason Tony hadn’t intervened was because he’d opened the back door and was attempting to extract Jasper from beneath a mountain of clothing. Jess had obviously used everything at her disposal to protect her son from the cold, at the expense of her own warmth and health.
Jasper bounced out, full of energy and enthusiasm, now that a big breakfast was on his morning agenda. Jess moved more slowly, wincing in pain when her feet touched the ground.
Rhys glanced at Tony, the two of them communicating without words. Jess wasn’t going to be able to walk inside on her own.
Tony, who’d grasped Jasper’s hand, handed the little boy over to Rhys, then bent down in front of Jess, who was clinging to her huge bag and attempting to rise without giving away how much pain she was in. Rhys wasn’t sure if that was for their benefit or her son’s. Given what he’d seen from her this morning, and the small things he’d observed about her at the diner, he decided it was probably both.
“I’m going to carry you,” Tony said quietly. Jess started to shake her head, but he merely reached for her. “Nonnegotiable.”
Rhys waited as Tony picked up Jess, juggling her in his strong arms and carrying her to the sidewalk. Then Rhys shut the driver’s door, guiding Jasper in front of Tony and Jess so the two of them could open the front door to their building.
He started for one of the examination rooms, but Tony blew by him, carrying Jess to the stairs while glancing over his shoulder. “Get what you need. You can check her out in our apartment. Promised Jasper breakfast.”
Rhys considered arguing, then decided against it. Given her violent trembling, he was fairly certain she was only in the first stage of hypothermia, her case mild. Otherwise, the shivering would have stopped, and she’d be fading in and out of consciousness.
He retrieved a stethoscope—which he looped around Jasper’s neck, much to the boy’s delight—heating compresses, ibuprofen, and a couple of thermometers. Then, the two of them followed in Tony’s wake as he carried Jess up the two flights of stairs to their place.
Tony gently sat her on the couch. Jasper dropped Rhys’s hand once they were in the living room, quickly darting across the space to sit next to his mother.
As Tony placed a warm fleece blanket around her shoulders, Rhys perched on the edge of the coffee table in front of her, activated a couple of the heating compresses, and slid them inside her coat.
Turning on one of the thermometers, he held it out. “I need to take your temperature.”
Jess glanced down at Jasper. “What about h-him?”
“I’ll get to him in a minute. You’re the one I’m more worried about.”
“B-but—” Jess started.
Tony dropped down on the couch, claiming the side opposite Jasper. “Put the thermometer in your mouth, Jess.”
Rhys resisted the urge to smile when Jess shot Tony an annoyed look that gave him hope she wasn’t in serious danger, health-wise.
Tony’s demand worked when she turned back to Rhys and opened her mouth. She tried to hold the thermometer in herself, but her hand trembled too hard. Rhys gently took her hand away, holding it in his until the thermometer beeped. He withdrew it and glanced at the reading. “Ninety-five degrees. Not good but not terrible. I need to check you for frostbite,” he said, as he pulled her gloves off, looking closely at her ice-cold fingers, which were red and chapped but didn’t show any signs of severe frostbite. Then he recalled her inability to walk and reached for her foot, pulling one of her boots onto his lap to remove it.
“Tony, I need a tub of warm water and some more hot water bottles. Grab that heating pad from the linen closet too.”
