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Brock let out a long sigh and put the phone down, leaning heavily against the couch and closing his eyes.
The fact that Reba wasn't answering the phone meant that either she wasn't home at all or she didn't want to talk to him, and he didn't like any of those options. Actually there was one more option he didn't really want to think about because it involved Reba being so sick to not being able to answer the phone, and that scared the crap out of him.
Cheyenne had been very apprehensive when she had asked him to look after her mother and as much as he knew how Cheyenne tended to be overdramatic, still he couldn't get rid of the feeling that Reba was in trouble.
Lately she hadn't been feeling too well, they all were able to see that, and the idea of her being completely alone at the house, with her bloodpressure bound to shoot up every minute, it just wouldn't leave him alone.
He still cared about her, that was obvious. He kept telling himself and the others that Reba was just a friend, his best friend but still just a friend, but he knew deep in his heart that there was more between them. As much as he tried to love Barbra Jean as best as he could, she was never able to take Reba's place in his heart. And he didn't want to imply anything by thinking that, but he actually had started to believe that Reba's presence had affected his marriage with Barbra Jean.
That wasn't to say he blamed Reba or anything, he knew she probably never even realized how much of an effect she had on him, she was so naïve when it came to that kind of things.
The thought brought a smile on his face and he opened his eyes, staring at the ceiling while his mind was crowded with thoughts of the beautiful redhead that still, unconsciously, owned his heart.
It was quite unbelievable but after they had been divorced for more than seven years he still felt the same about her that he did the first day he saw her. And just like that day, even though she was off-limits, he wouldn't leave her alone, no matter how hard she tried to push him away.
With a stubborn look on his face, Brock picked up the phone again and dialled Reba's number once again, closing his eyes for a second and sighing heavily when her recorded voice rang in his ear, "Hi, this is Reba Hart. At the moment I'm not here, leave a message and I will decide if you're worth calling back. Bye!"
Brock rubbed a hand over his face and sighed again before opening his eyes and starting to speak, "Reba, it's Brock once again. Please, if you're there pick up…"
"…that darn phone. I beg you, I'm sick worried about you…"
Reba awoke to the sound of Brock's concerned voice and brought her hand to head, where a throbbing pain was about to turn into a bad headache; then she opened her eyes and looked around her, only to find herself laying at the bottom of the stairs, her whole body aching.
"What the hell-"
She didn't remember much, only that she was going down the stairs to pick up the phone and that she wasn't feeling well.
"I must've fainted again and I fell down the stairs…" She muttered as she tried to get up, her body shaking a little. She didn't want to admit but she was scared.
She was totally alone in the house and something happened to her without anyone being there to help her. Fine, it didn't have any consequences up to now, but what if something like that happened again and she was really hurt?
She gripped the banister and stood on her feet, but was for less than two seconds, because she immediately felt dizzy again and fell backwards on the floor again, her ankle unable to support her weight.
"Craaaap…" She rolled her eyes and sighed heavily, rubbing her ankle which was already swelling and didn't look all that good.
"Reba, if you want pick up this phone in the next ten seconds I'm gonna jump in the car and drive over to the house. Ten… nine… eight… seven…"
Reba rolled her eyes again and laid back down on the floor, staring at the ceiling, "As much as I hate the idea, hurry…" She called to the phone.
"…four… three… two…"
"The only time in my life that I need someone's help, my ex-husband is the only one in town…" She muttered. "How great is that?" She moved her leg a little and hissed in pain.
"…okay, I'll be right there." Brock hung up and hurried to the door, grabbing his jacket and keys on the way and running to the car.
"Would be about time…" Reba muttered again. "I can't lay down on this floor forever."
The drive from his condo to Reba's house usually took Brock about twenty minutes.
It took him seven minutes tonight.
When he got out of the car he was even more worried than earlier, not knowing what to expect inside.
He ran to the door and tried to open it, but it was locked.
"What the-" Frowning, he started to ring the doorbell and call her name, "REBA… REBA… RE-"
"Brock…" Reba's voice reached him from inside and he immediately stopped his actions and sighed in relief. "Brock… I can't quite get up… Do you mind coming in through the backdoor?"