Sheriff Daddy (Montana Daddies Book 10) by Laylah Roberts (good book club books txt) 📗

“Well, I am an FBI agent,” she said dryly. Then she glanced away from him, hoping he couldn’t see more than she wanted him to. “But yeah, I’ve had a bit of stress lately.”

“You’ve been having heart palpitations?”

“When I feel stressed, sometimes my heart starts racing, and it will skip a beat.”

“You drink a lot of caffeine?”

“I think it’s the only thing keeping me going most days,” she joked.

He gave her a small smile. “I hear ya, however, caffeine can cause heart palpitations. That combined with stress could be the cause of your palpitations and elevated heart rate. You run a lot?”

“Yeah. And I’ve never collapsed before.”

“Gotten dizzy? Felt ill?”

“Um, yeah, a few times I guess,” she said guiltily.

“Have you lost weight recently?”

“A bit.” Maybe more than a bit.

“You work long hours, I’m guessing. Do you ever take time off? When was your last vacation?”

“Um, well, it’s right now.”

“Oh, I was given to understand you were here for work,” he said.

“That’s what I told Ed,” she admitted. “But I, uh, my boss wanted me to take some time off. I . . . “ she sucked in a breath, “I had an issue at work.”

“An issue?”

“Panic attack,” she admitted. “I passed out.”

He let out a breath. “Right.” He asked half a dozen other questions about her sleeping habits, her thoughts about work, her emotional health. They were tough to answer. She wasn’t used to speaking about these things with anyone.

“Sweetheart, sounds to me like you’re really stressed and suffering from anxiety.”

So she was weak. Because there were lots of people in far more stressful jobs than her and they did fine. “I’ll be all right.”

“You will be, if you take care of yourself,” he told her sternly.

“That’s what this week is about.”

“Hate to tell you, but I don’t think a week is going to be long enough. You talk to your doctor about any of this?”

“I thought a week away might fix everything.”

“Sweetheart, your stress is affecting your health. Things are getting to a critical stage. I think you’d benefit from talking to someone.”

“No,” she said firmly. She rubbed her tummy unconsciously, then noticed Xavier watching. She froze. Shoot.

“All right. I know I’m not your doctor, but I really would advise you to make some changes. Maybe see if you can get some more time off.”

Yeah, that wasn’t going to be a problem. Convincing her boss to let her go back to work would be the real issue. She kept telling herself she was just taking a week off. But she knew better.

“Exercise is good, but not to the point of being excessive. There are medications you can use to help with the panic attacks, a therapist would—”

“No medication.” She couldn’t afford to have her senses dulled.

“A sedative to help you sleep?”

“No. No medicine.” She’d be too vulnerable.

He sighed. “Why don’t I prescribe some and then you have it in case you need it? Something light.”

What if she took them and got stuck in a nightmare? Or worse, someone tried to hurt her while she was out?

“Do you often get a sore stomach?”

Shoot. She was still rubbing it. “Sometimes.”

“Does it hurt to eat?”

“Yeah, sometimes.”

“I’m going to keep you in here while we run some more tests. Check there’s nothing else going on with your heart and your stomach. Are you sure I can’t call anyone? I’d rather you didn’t leave here on your own.”

“I’ll be fine,” she said firmly. “And you can send Ed home too. I’ll be all right now. I just want to be on my own.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah. I’m sure.” Coming here had been stupid. She knew that. Ed wasn’t interested in her. It was time she buried that fantasy. For good.

11

She was so ready to get out of here.

Georgina paced up and down the hospital room as she waited for the nurse to come back with all her paperwork. She had had to stop herself from snapping at the woman several times for how slow she was moving.

“I guess it was too much to ask that my most troublesome patient be waiting quietly in the wheelchair for me to come and get her.”

She turned to find Xavier standing in the doorway. She flushed guiltily then straightened her shoulders. “I really don’t need a wheelchair. There’s nothing wrong with me.” Nothing physically wrong with her. She kind of wished there were. That would be easier to deal with. But being stressed, suffering from anxiety, those weren’t things that people could see and understand. It wasn’t something her mother would accept.

And that’s why her mother would never learn about any of it.

Xavier sighed. “Being stressed and having anxiety isn’t something to be taken lightly, Georgina. It’s affecting your physical health. You need to find a way to relax. To sleep and eat. And running until you pass out isn’t a good coping mechanism for what is going on in your head.”

Darn. He was perceptive. They’d spent quite a bit of time together over the last twenty-four hours while he’d run his tests. Nothing startling had been revealed other than the fact that she was low in iron, vitamin B, and D and had raised blood pressure. So she needed some steak and vitamins. Done.

There was no need for any more fussing. Only, Xavier seemed to excel at fussing. He’d brought her dinner last night, insisting on sitting with her. She knew he’d wanted to make sure she did eat, probably the aides had told on her that she’d barely touched her other disgusting meals.

He’d even gone to her motel room and grabbed her some clothes to wear out of here. Which was really kind of him.

“Xavier, I’ll be fine. I’m an adult. I can take care of myself. Am I able to leave? I need to call a taxi.”

His face tightened. “You’re not going home in a taxi. And you’re getting in that wheelchair. Or you’re not leaving.”

She sighed. “All right. But has anyone ever told you that you’re extremely bossy?”

“Many times,” he reassured