Texas Mum. Roz Fox Denny
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I can find a phone number for the estancia online.”
Von Claus closed the medical chart and turned to his colleague. “You should go there and speak to Mr. Sanchez. Don’t you agree, Neal? Facing someone makes it harder for them to decline. A phone call may make it too easy for a man you haven’t spoken to in years, one unaware he’s a dad, to simply cut you off.”
Dr. Avery left his chair and took Delaney’s icy hands. “Dr. Von Claus is right. Time isn’t on our side. No man with half a backbone would refuse to help his own child. You need to see him and explain the whole problem. I know a trip will be costly, but I agree a physical meeting offers the best chance you and Nick have. You might also be able to obtain blood samples from his other relatives while you’re there.”
Delaney squared her shoulders. “The good people of La Mesa recently set up a fund for Nick and me. I could use that money to fly to Buenos Aires. But is it okay for me to leave Nick?”
Both doctors nodded. Neal Avery said, “Nickolas is here where he’s getting the best care possible for his spiraling condition until a spot opens for him in Dr. Von Claus’s study in San Antonio. We can arrange for Mr. Sanchez and his family to be tested at a hospital in Buenos Aires. Of course, if any of them are a match, that person will need to travel here for the harvest procedure.”
“It makes no sense that I’m not the best match,” Delaney said bitterly. “After all, I’m Nick’s mother. It seems crazy to think strangers may provide what I can’t. I carried him in my body for nine months.” She fisted a hand against her belly for emphasis.
“I know,” Dr. Avery sympathized.
“It is the best decision.” Dr. Von Claus scooped up the thick folder. “It’s good Dr. Avery suggested Nickolas for my study. There’s much we have to learn about body cells relative to blood cancers. I’ve had cases where neither parent was a match, and yet we found a donor miles away with near perfect markers. If only storing a newborn’s cord blood was a common practice, we wouldn’t need this needle-in-a-haystack search.”
“True. But who thinks when their baby is born, the picture of health, that any of this could happen? At the time, storing his cord blood seemed a needless expense. I hadn’t built my practice yet, and I wasn’t sure I could manage a baby and the long hours required to be a large animal veterinarian. Playing the if-only game won’t make facing Nickolas’s father easier.”
“But you will go?”
“Yes,” she said. The doctors said their goodbyes, and she turned back to stare out the window. Another flash of lightning cut jaggedly through an ugly sky. She stayed for an extra minute to settle her churning stomach before going to explain to Nick that she had to leave for a few days.
She finally headed to his room, trying not to worry about what she’d do if Dario refused to see her—or talk to her. And he might. She had fallen passionately in love with the dark-eyed, dark-haired Argentinian the summer after she’d aced her board exams and had been free of school for the first time in years. Back then, everything had been brighter, happier as she’d arrived home a brand-new vet. Dario and his crew had been in town delivering bulls and trying to make other contacts in Texas. If he hadn’t disappeared a few weeks before her father’s untimely death, their relationship might have been more than an eventful summer fling.
Too bad she had let her heart get involved.
Oh, what good did it do now to plow up old ground? She couldn’t erase Dario from her mind even if she wanted to. Obviously the same wasn’t true for him. He’d promised to keep in touch, then didn’t. She was reminded of him daily, every time she looked at Nick. She only hoped Dario remembered her. It could be a death sentence for Nickolas if she was that forgettable.
Shaking off the gloom, she tiptoed into Nick’s room on the pediatric cancer ward. His roommate had been discharged. The boy had been older, about seven, but the kids had been friendly. Today Nick looked small and alone in the too-big sterile room filled with monitors and medical trappings.
Breathing deep, Delaney bent over him and finger-combed the mop of dark curls off his pale forehead. His long lashes swept up, and he reached for her hand. “Mommy, where’ve you been?”
“Talking to Dr. Avery. Did you have a good lunch?”
Nick nodded. “But when can I go home? You and Miz Irene cook better,” he said, referring to his longtime babysitter. “Here they always bring me bouncy red Jell-O.” He crinkled his nose in a manner that acutely reminded Delaney of his father.
After Dario’s disappearance, she’d made the choice to carry on alone. She had vowed her child would be a Blair. But when her beautiful baby boy was born with more of Dayo’s features than hers, she’d made Blair his middle name and put Dario Sanchez as his father on his birth certificate. Her son didn’t deserve to grow up with a blank spot in place of a dad. And mercy, weren’t those Dario’s big dark eyes imploring her now as she sat in the chair and leaned over to kiss Nick’s lightly freckled nose, one of the few features he shared with her?
“Listen, my little cowboy, Mommy has to go out of town for a few days. You have to stay here so Dr. Avery can chase away that old fever that’s made you feel so yucky.”
His eyes glazed with tears, and he gripped her hand more tightly. “I don’t like being here alone. Will Josh be back?”
Delaney stroked his hand. “Josh went home. I’ll ask Nurse Pam if you’ll be getting a new roommate soon. Okay?”
“Maybe Miz Irene can come be here while you’re gone, like she does at our house.”
“I wish she could, Nick. Unfortunately this hospital is too far away, and Irene still has to take care of Sara Beth so her mom can work. Dr. Avery needs you here, because they have the best medicine to make you better.”
“I don’t feel better. I’m real tired.” He yawned as if to prove it.
“You take a nap, then. I don’t have to go anywhere yet.”
“When I wake up can I play a game on your ’puter?”
“You bet.” Delaney dug his favorite stuffed cow out from under his covers and tucked his arm around it. The toy had been given to him by Zoey Bannerman, the teenage daughter of a rancher Delaney worked for. Zoey’s dad and stepmom had been so supportive throughout this latest ordeal of Nick’s. All of the ranchers and townspeople in and around La Mesa, Texas had. Two neighboring vets were taking caring of her clients. The only thing the community hadn’t been able to do was round up a bone marrow donor for Nick. And they’d tried.
She noticed his eyes had drifted closed and his fingers relaxed their hold on hers. She leaned back in the chair where she’d spent far too many hours. Firing up her laptop, she searched online for Estancia Sanchez. She hadn’t visited their site in a while. Her palms began to sweat. Before, she’d been too busy making a living and building a home for her and Nick to spy on Dario—and that’s what it felt like. Then their lives had been turned upside down when, at age one and a half, Nick had been diagnosed with acute lymphocytic leukemia. Living with dread, she’d juggled her work around doctor visits and treatments. The day Nick had been pronounced in remission gave the entire community reason to celebrate. And their lives were good until a few months ago when his fevers and unexplained leg aches had come back with a vengeance.
Delaney wasn’t surprised to see a huge array of bulls on the Sanchez website. Bulls were, after all, the family business. The family sold them for stud and as trained bucking animals for rodeos. Her father, once head of the Southern Area Cattlemen’s Association, had become a rodeo stockman. Some of his friends claimed he’d done so because of the prolonged drought—one of many things he hadn’t bothered to discuss with her.
Wiping away tears, she scrolled through the website. The Spanish-style Sanchez compound looked beautiful. According to the information, the owner was Arturo Sanchez and his sons Vicente, Dario and Lorenzo. So Dario hadn’t left the family business, although there was no indication how recently the website had been updated.
Closing