Cammie’s eyes were huge in her small face, a face that was frozen with fear.
“It’s all right, Cammie. It’s just Donovan Kelly. You remember him, don’t you? He came with the woman who hired Travis yesterday. He was nice. He said he wanted to be your friend.”
Cammie slowly nodded, but she still wore a wary, guarded look that made Eve’s chest ache.
Eve carried her into the living room and eased her onto the couch so the fan would blow over her flushed skin. To her surprise, Donovan appeared beside Eve, his expression worried as he took in Cammie’s appearance.
Cammie shrank back, her eyes widening in fear. Eve wished she could control it, but what four-year-old could? It was a dead giveaway. Anyone with eyes could see the child had much to be afraid of.
Donovan took a cautious step back but turned to Eve, his expression grave—and determined. She felt as if she’d just stepped into a mire by allowing him access to her trailer, but then could she have really kept him out? He didn’t look like a man who took no for an answer. Ever.
“She’s not better,” he said grimly. “Is she still running a fever?”
Eve nodded, her shoulders sagging. She automatically reached for Cammie, putting a reassuring hand on her shoulder and squeezing as if to tell her it would be okay. That Eve would die before allowing anyone to hurt her.
“She needs a doctor,” Donovan said bluntly. “She likely needs to be in the hospital. How long has she been ill?”
Eve hit the panic button again. “I can’t afford a doctor. Or a hospital.” Not to mention the exposure caused by a hospital stay. “I’ve been giving her fluids and medication around the clock. She’s been keeping it down. Well, after that first day.”
“Come into the kitchen with me,” Donovan murmured. “Reassure Cammie you won’t be going far. We should discuss this away from her.”
Eve’s eyes widened at his perception. Then she glanced down at Cammie, racked by indecision.
“Eve,” Donovan prompted.
Eve closed her eyes and then leaned down to brush a kiss across Cammie’s brow. “I’m just going to the kitchen. Donovan brought food. Wouldn’t you like a special treat?”
Slowly Cammie nodded, but she kept casting her gaze sideways at Donovan, shadows haunting her young eyes.
Eve turned and made sure Donovan went ahead of her so that she was between him and Cammie at all times. He’d made quick work of putting away the groceries, though he’d left several items out on the small countertop. Sprite. Soups. A loaf of bread. Acetaminophen and ibuprofen as well as several bottles of Pedialyte, a fluid designed to correct electrolyte imbalance.
It would appear he’d thought of everything.
“I can’t afford a doctor,” she whispered fiercely. “She’ll be okay. I’m staying with her and monitoring her fever at all times.”
Donovan put his hand over hers where she’d rested it on the countertop. A warm shock raced up her arm. Soothing. It baffled her, because she had everything to fear from this man, and yet something so simple as his touch calmed some of the rising panic and hysteria rampaging through her mind.
“I have a friend—a very close friend—who is a doctor. You’d like her. Her name is Maren. She’s married to another very good friend of mine. She’s been on maternity leave and is just now starting to get back into the swing of her practice. She routinely makes house calls, and she also sees disadvantaged patients free of charge. And Eve, you are in need. Cammie is in need. I’d like to bring her over tomorrow to check on Cammie. I’m concerned. She appears to be a very sick little girl, and while I’m sure you’re doing the absolute best you can, sometimes it’s not enough.”
She sagged, her head lowering because he was right. It wasn’t something she could very well hide. One only had to look at her—at where she lived—to know that she was in desperate need. And Cammie did need a doctor. Eve had been up with her all night, worried, sick with indecision over whether she should risk taking her into the emergency room. But how would she have gotten there? She was basically trapped here. No access to anything that wasn’t in walking distance.
Donovan lifted her hand, curling his fingers gently around hers. She tried to pull away, but he tightened his grip, giving her hand a gentle squeeze. His grasp wasn’t painful. Not at all. He wasn’t trying to hurt her, but neither did he let her go.
“We aren’t going to harm you, Eve. Nobody is. I’ll bring Maren out first thing in the morning so she can do an assessment on Cammie. She likely needs more than the over-the-counter medications you’ve been giving her.”
She closed her eyes, bringing her free hand to her throbbing temple. More medications. Prescription medications. No insurance. No way to pay for them. And antibiotics weren’t cheap!
“Eve,” Donovan said in a voice barely above a whisper. “Look at me.”
Eve lifted her gaze and in his eyes she saw—felt—warmth. Kindness. And something else entirely that she couldn’t quite figure out. He looked at her oddly. Like she was someone who mattered. To him.
“I’m going to get you the help you need. Help that Cammie and Travis need.”
Eve’s knees went weak and nearly gave out. She stumbled and braced her free hand on the countertop while Donovan’s grasp tightened on her other hand as if to steady her.
What if he reported her to child protective services? In his place, Eve certainly would. This was no place for a child, and it was equally obvious that Eve wasn’t providing for Cammie. He would be well within his rights to report his findings to the authorities, and then they’d sweep in and take Cammie—and Travis—away from her. And eventually return them to their father when it was discovered who they were. And Eve? She’d be punished for what she’d done. For taking desperate measures to protect her family. She simply couldn’t be separated from them and leave them at Walt’s mercy. It didn’t bear thinking about.