He wasn’t sure that would keep him from getting his butt whooped, but even if he’d never gripped a bat before he wouldn’t back down from the challenge in Nix’s eyes.
Five innings later Blake was thinking perhaps he should have recruited a few of his old Little League teammates. His current team was losing by two runs, and he was up to bat with a runner on base. With the right hit, he could tie the game.
Before Blake’s first pitch was thrown a loud wail had everyone’s heads turning toward the playground near the park’s pavilion.
“Bobby?” called a woman Blake had seen repeatedly with Mandy, while the other two women stared toward Darby, talking low. The woman abandoned her third base post to rush toward her crying son. “What’s wrong?”
The game forgotten, the rest of the team made their way to where the boy lay on the ground, clutching his arm.
His broken arm.
“What happened?”
“He fell when he jumped from the swing,” another boy informed them, his little face a mixture of curiosity and fear.
“Didn’t we talk about not jumping from the swings?” But even as she said the words the woman’s face paled, tears clouded her eyes, and she hugged the boy to her.
Blake started to step forward to check the boy, but when Darby bent next to the mother and son he reached for his phone to call for an ambulance.
“Someone bring a bag of ice for Bobby’s arm, pronto,” she ordered. Smiling, she placed her hand on the boy’s hand. “Hi, Bobby. My name is Darby Phillips, and I’m a doctor. Can I see your arm? I’ll be gentle.”
Obviously terrified, the boy shook his head, burying his face into his mother’s chest.
“Bobby, honey, let her check your arm.” Whatever differences were between them, the woman obviously had no problems with Darby examining her son. “She’s an old friend of Mom’s and Aunt Mandy’s.”
Nor with distorting the truth.
Although not happily, the boy let Darby check him.
While explaining to the ambulance service what had happened, Blake watched Darby assess the boy’s arm, admiring the way she spoke with him, explaining what she was doing in that calm, controlled voice.
Trey handed Darby a plastic bread sack that had been filled with ice and knotted at the end. Darby shot him a quick look of thanks and placed the bag on Bobby’s arm.
“Although the skin isn’t damaged, both the radius and the ulnar bones are broken, just proximal to the wrist.” Darby glanced at the woman. “I suspect the bones will need to be surgically pinned.”
“I could drive you.” Trey spoke up from where he stood next to her still, obviously eager to come to the rescue.
Blake opened his mouth to tell the guy to get lost, that he was on the phone with the emergency service and an ambulance should be on its way soon. But Darby took charge.
“Could you? That would be great. You drive us in Cindy’s vehicle, so she’ll have transportation at the hospital.” Darby gave him a smile that had Blake’s insides crawling. “Blake will follow us, and you can ride back with us.”
Great. Just what Blake wanted—to chauffeur Darby and her ex. Why were
they going to the hospital anyway? They couldn’t do anything except keep the arm stable. An orthopedic surgeon would be required to correct the damage to the bones.
But if Darby wanted to accompany the boy to the hospital, he wouldn’t argue. The whole weekend was about her, for her, and he’d agreed to play by her rules.
Even if he’d quickly realized he didn’t like those rules.
“I’m going, too,” Mandy piped up. “Cindy might need me.”
Darby’s expression tightened, but she didn’t say anything, just turned her attention back to Bobby.
Listening to the emergency dispatcher, Blake whistled. Darby was right. The closest emergency service was thirty miles away and wouldn’t arrive in Armadillo Lake anytime soon. They could get the boy to the hospital faster than waiting for the ambulance.
“Let’s go.”
CHAPTER SIX