Chapter 7
The storm blew in with all its glorious fury as soon as he got back to the ranch.
The end of summer electrical storm was something he was accustomed to and for the first time since he was a child, he welcomed its furor.
It was something to take his mind off his own fury and the pain pounding in his chest. The lightning streaking across the eerie pinkish glow of the sky, the rain coming down in torrents minimized his own problems, forcing him to concentrate on what was happening around him.
He got back just in time to help with the rounding up of the cattle, getting them to higher ground. By the time they were through with the cattle, they were soaked to the skin, the rain pounding on them brutally.
Shouting instructions to his men, he allowed his mind to drift to her and hoped that with the damage the storm would make, it would be impossible for her to leave tomorrow.
He knew that power lines would be down and the longer the storm lasted, the more damage it would do.
He was hoping for a reprieve. Holy God, he was pathetic, he thought bitterly as he strode into the barn to help secure the horses and try and quiet their nerves.
"Boss, we have some trees down along the east perimeter fence."
"Get some men out there and secure it immediately! The last thing we want is for the animals to go roaming. Link?" He stopped the man as he was about to leave.
"Sir?"
"Send someone out to the pink cottage to make certain everything is okay there."
"Yes, boss." Link nodded and did not question why there was a need to do such a thing. Everyone at the ranch knew about Julianne Merrywood and what she meant to him.
"Easy boy." Tugging off his gloves, Bryson soothed his hand along his horse's flank slowly, trying to absorb the quivering. "It's just a storm. It will pass. Easy now." His deep voice did the job of calming the animal down. "That's a good boy."
He looked up as one of the men rushed into the barn.
"What is it?"
"Flooding in one of the outbuildings. We have to get the family out. And the creek is overflowing."
"Let's go."
By the time he dragged his weary self into the mud room to take off his sodden clothing that was now caked with mud, he was ready to drop.
They had done all they could in the circumstances.
They were going to have to wait until morning to assess the damage.
But for now, they were just going to have to wait it out. The worst of it had passed.
He knew these summer storms. They rise up in fury and in a matter of minutes to an hour, it wears itself out and winds down. But even that short space of time could cause a tremendous amount of damage.
Fences were uprooted and so were trees. Tomorrow would mean a hell of a lot of work.
Tomorrow she was planning on leaving him, again.
Tugging off his boots, he pitched them away from him and rose to take off his clothing.
Reaching for the towel, he rubbed the water from his skin and donned the set of clothing that was in the closet for just this purpose.
He would go up and take a bath and try and get some sleep because he was going to have a lot of work to do. There was no time to think about the fact that his entire life was fragmenting.
His hope to creep upstairs without his mother seeing him was dashed. She came out of her room as he ascended the stairs.
"Darling, do you have a minute?"
"Mother, if this is not something of monumental importance, I've had a very long and trying day and would really like to take a shower and go to bed."
"How bad is it?"
Biting off a sigh, he redirected his steps and walked towards her.
"Not anything we haven't seen before."
"I was worried about you."
"I'm sorry. I was too caught up to answer my phone." He touched her arm briefly. "I'm fine. We haven't lost much. Tomorrow, we'll be assessing the damage, but it won't be that much." He started to turn away when she touched his arm.
"Everything I ever did was because I love you and want what's best for you."
He gave her a puzzled look, his mind already on the hot shower and the tall glass of brandy that would somehow make him go to sleep.
"I know."
"You mean everything to me."
"I know that too." Taking her hand in his, he marveled at how delicate her skin was and how much she was aging.
Granted, she still looked great for a woman in her sixties, but the fine lines around her eyes and mouth spoke of the things she had endured.
He had often thought of her as being weak and useless, never standing up to his father's cruelty, but over the years, he realized that she had stayed because of him.
"I love you too."
"I want you to always remember that," she insisted.
"I will." He squeezed her hand. "Can't sleep?"
"It's the lightning." She laughed a little shakily. "Your father used to taunt me with how much of a coward I was. That a mere storm could freak me out like this."
"That man was a bully and a monster. You should try and put away the thoughts of him from your mind."
"I know." Lifting her free hand, she cupped his cheek and smiled. "Get some rest, my sweet boy, and I will do the same."
Leaning down, he kissed her cheek and stepped back. "Good night, Mother."
"Good night, darling." She watched him walk to his rooms before turning in.
It seemed to him that he had only closed his eyes for a few minutes before he heard the vibration of his phone in his ear. Growling viciously, he seriously thought about letting it go to voicemail.
But his sense of responsibility would never allow him to do such a thing. They were in a crisis with the storm, and it could be one of his men calling for help. Grabbing the phone, he slid the icon without opening his eyes. "This had better be a damn emergency."
"Bryson?"
His eyes snapped wide open at the sound of the achingly familiar voice. "Julianne?"
"Bryson. Oh God, I'm bleeding." There was a catch in her voice that had him bolting upright. "I'm losing my baby. You have to come. You have to come now."
Jumping off the bed, he raced to the closet and pulled out the first thing he could grab. "Baby, I'm on my way. I'll call-"
"I woke up and there was this awful pain and there was blood-"
"Sweetheart-" He struggled into the t-shirt, fighting to put it on, all the while keeping the phone at his ear.
"I'm on my way."
"Please don't hang up. Please. Oh God!"
His heart shattered at the sound of pain in her voice. "Hold on, baby. It will be fine." Putting on shoes, he raced from the room and made enough noise slamming the door to have his mother coming from her rooms.
"Bryson, what on earth-"
"Julianne is miscarrying. I have to go."
"Bryson-" She called out but was talking to the air as her son raced down the stairs.
Gripping her robe around her, she stood there for a minute before going back to her rooms. She lifted her head in thanksgiving for this boon.
He avoided the power lines strewn across the streets. It was pitch black, but somehow he got himself to the cottage in one piece. It was almost four in the morning, which meant people were sleeping and there was less traffic on the road.
Digging through the flower pot, he found the spare keys and let himself in. Dashing into the bedroom, he rushed to the bed and simply scooped her into his arms, sheets and all.
"I called the hospital and they're expecting us." Pressing a kiss on her brow, he strode from the room. Securing her in the front seat, he buckled the belt and ran around to jump in.
"We'll be there shortly," he reassured her as he touched the start button.
"You'll be fine." He had seen the grimace of pain on her lovely face and realized that she was trying to be brave, trying to minimize the pain she was feeling.
Worst of all, he had seen the awful amount of blood.
His hands trembled and he had to tighten them on the wheel and take several deep breaths before navigating towards the hospital.
"They're waiting for us."
She remained silent and simply laid her head back, her hand on her stomach as if shielding her baby even now.
"I cannot lose my baby."
"You won't." He wished he had some sort of authority on the subject.
He wished he wasn't feeling so scared about losing not only his first child, but the woman he loved too.
He wished this wasn't happening. Pressing on the gas, he ignored the speed limit and came to a screeching stop inside the parking lot.
The hospital, like most of the public buildings in town, had been donated by his family, so he wasn't in the least bit surprised that there was a team of doctors and nurses waiting outside with a gurney.
He insisted on taking her from the vehicle himself and putting her on the gurney. He held her hand while they wheeled her into the examination room and stood at the door watching, as he was not allowed any further.
Now he was reduced to waiting in the room where several nurses had dropped by to offer him coffee and refreshments.
He was, after all, a VIP, he thought bitterly.
So, they had to cater to him. He accepted the coffee but firmly said no to the tiny sandwiches and delicious-looking cakes.
He had gone through three cups before he switched to water.
He was already wired enough, and he needed his wits about him.
His mother had called several times, but apart from answering once and telling her that there was no news yet, he had ignored her other calls. He was not in the mood to speak to anyone, not now, not while he felt as if his life was tearing apart.