Chapter 24
Hadley
Ilay in the hospital bed, staring at the ceiling. Brady sits in the chair to the side, playing some mind-numbing game on his phone. Mine sits on the side tray by the bed. I know because I haven’t taken my eyes off it since Brady brought it in.
After Willow called the medics and I was carted off to the emergency room like a dying casualty, I realized my phone was still in my gear bag. Luckily, Brady was all over it.
I sent him straight back to the rodeo to check in on Maggie.
And from what he could gather, she was in her van.
Just not talking. The look of fear mixed with devastation when I floated past her on the gurney will never leave my mind.
I wish I knew what was behind her expression.
What it was that seemed like her heart was breaking right in front of me.
Pretty sure it wasn’t me, exactly.
After going through the motions with scans and pain meds for a dislocated knee, not broken as they initially thought, and mild tendon damage, I finally had the chance to call. She didn’t answer.
So I texted.
A few times.
Okay, like twelve times in twenty-four hours, but in my defense, I’m worried about her. Then Levi said she—
The phone vibrates, sliding across the plastic table.
I grab it up and slide the bar across.
“Sunshine? Tell me you’re okay.”
“Hello, cowboy.” She sounds meek and so defeated.
No.
I push to sit up, and the pain in my leg spurs back to life. I grind my jaw shut, holding back the groan.
“Maggie, are you okay?”
“Yeah, I guess. I—”
“It’s alright, I don’t expect anything.”
Brady rises from the chair, pointing to the door before creeping outside.
The door closes behind him, and I tap the video call feature. I need to see her. She accepts, and I find her sitting in the doorway of the van, her hand sunk into her curls, her face red and puffy.
My heart tumbles from my chest.
“Sunshine. Tell me you haven’t been crying over me.”
She huffs a tangled sound before she says, “No . . . Maybe a little.”
“Talk to me.” The words are almost gravel as emotion flares at seeing her like this.
“I ca—” She looks away, her breaths snapping in and out too quickly. “I don’t know what happened, but seeing you on that gurney brought back up a whole lot of stuff I thought I’d moved past.”
“The PTSD stuff?”
“Yeah, in part.” She looks directly at me and her head tilts, her eyes tightening with emotion. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there.”
“Yeah, friends are supposed to do that. I’m writing you off, Gallagher.”
She chuckles, then sniffs back a breath. “I think we wandered out of the friend zone, Jones.”
“Not-friends use last names, do they?”
She scrunches up her face at me and a tiny smile pops over her lips. My body relaxes instantly at the sight.
“Hadley?”
“Yeah, Sunshine.”
“Are you okay?”
“Oh, yeah, only a dislocated knee and some mild ligament damage, a few weeks on crutches and a knee brace and I’ll be back out there.”
Her face loses all emotion.
“Hey, what was that?” I rasp.
Fuck, she’s so far away. Not being able to comfort her when she’s like this is more painful than the stupid knee of mine.
“Live to die another day, I suppose,” she says woodenly.
“Maggie . . .”
“When do they let you go home?”
I’m glad for the change of topic, but the way her face changed will have me up all damn night.
“Tomorrow, actually. It’s my right leg, so I’m okay to drive, but Brades is giving me a lift.”
“So you’re taking it easy when you get home?”
“Maybe. See what needs to be done, I guess.”
“Hadley,” she chides.
“There’s no one else to do it for me, Sunshine. Kayley works long hours and Nia and Gemma are handy, but not ranchers. Mom, she’s . . .”
“Promise me you won’t do anything stupid, then.”
I chuckle. “Can’t promise that, but I’ll keep you updated.”
“You really are trouble.” She sucks in a breath. “And Hadley?”
“Yeah?”
“I miss you.”
My smile grows so damn wide it almost hurts more than my knee. “I miss you too, Sunshine.”
The line goes dead and I lay back on the bed, smile still stretching my face. Heart racing the way it always does when Maggie is with me.
“Well, that must have gone well.” Brady tosses a packet of chips on my bed and then throws a soda at my head. I catch it in one hand and curse him out. Gonna have to let that settle before I open it.
“She’s home. Safe and sound.”
“Good. So still want that lift home in the morning?”
“Yeah, thanks, bud.”
“Kayley going to help you out for few weeks now you’re an invalid?” He nods to my braced-up knee.
“No, she’s busy as hell. I’ll manage.”
Brady shakes his head.
“Well, if you need a hand, just shout.”
Now I shake my head at him.
“At least with you out for a few weeks, the rest of us will have a chance to catch up on the circuit,” Brady says with a shit-eating grin.
“You can try.”
He tosses the Bible from the bedside table at my head. The pages fly open as it lands on my chest with a thud. I send it back with force and he ducks, laughter echoing around the bare, white room.
You’ll keep, bud.
Home one day, and shit is already falling apart. Apparently, Murphy’s law is alive and well on our ranch. The main homestead, to be precise. Mom wrings a tea towel through her hands as her gaze tracks my slow progress across the room.
Ignoring my mother’s pleas to take it easy and let her call a plumber, I slip and slide my way over the water flooding the kitchen floor on my crutches until I’m close enough to drop to my seat and shimmy under the sink.
I’m not worried that my old ripped jeans and white shirt are getting soaked from the spray assaulting me from the split piping underneath the sink. Protecting my face from the water, I wrap my hand around the pipe and stem the flow.
“Oh, that’s better.” Mom’s voice is hopeful.
“That’s my hand. I need duct tape and a new length of pipe.”
Gemma waltzes in at the end of the sentence. “I’ll grab it.”
She rushes through the back door, running off to the old tool shed.
A few minutes later she brings back both, a hand saw, and some spare ring clamps. Smart girl, my little sister.
They all are.
“Here, wrap your hand around the pipe while I go turn off the water.”
“I’ll do it!” Nia rises from her spot at the kitchen table where she’s been marooned for ten minutes. Now she can turn off the water?
But the water stops after she leaves the house. Mom starts mopping the floor up with bath towels.
“Who will ride with Maggie now that you’re not going this weekend?” Excitement in Gemma’s gaze sees mine narrow.
“Guess she’ll go by herself.”
“Not Brady?”
“Kid, you trying to start a water fight?” I raise a brow at her.
She laughs. “Nah, just wanted to see how you’d react. You like her, don’t you?”
“Of course I like her, she’s my friend.”
Like hell am I explaining my relationship with Maggie to my sisters. They’ll be planning our wedding, firstborn, and the rest of our lives if you let them.
“Your friend. Really.” Gemma rolls her eyes at me.
“Yup.”
“Liar.”
I stop what I’m doing, hands still on the busted pipe. “Oh yeah, what about you and what’s his name?” I hazard a guess she has a crush on someone.
The beet-red flush creeping over her face says I’m right on the money.
“You keep your secrets, Gem. I’ll keep mine.”
She gives me a solemn nod, and I shake my head at her and chuckle. These girls are the loves of my damn life, and I can read them like a book. God help any guy who wants into their lives. They’ll have to go through me first.
Nia settles back at the kitchen table, returning to her puzzle. Mom almost has the floor dried when we hear tires over gravel outside.
“You expectin’ someone, Mom?” I ask.
“No.” She drops the wet towels to the counter and pads for the front door. “Oh!”
“What?” Nia is off the chair and at her side instantly.
Gemma scurries to her feet, dropping the tool on my foot as she sprints to the front door like the house is on fire.
“Damn, Gem!” I put the ring clamp over the pipe and nudge it back into the drainpipe before sliding the clamp down. “Who is it?” I lean back under the cupboard and tighten the clamp.
Mom holds the screen door open. “Hi, can I help you?”
I can’t hear a thing over Nia and Gemma nattering away like chipmunks over whoever is at the door. Mom walks out onto the porch for a moment with the visitor, and the girls plaster themselves to the screen.
When they turn back, Nia is whispering to Gemma. They’re practically vibrating. I finish and sit up, packing the tools back into the box. My shirt is soaked and clings to my body. I push out from under the sink as Mom opens the door. “Come in, please.”
“Oh my god, you are so pretty!” Nia squeals.
The hell?
I stand, grabbing the toolbox in one hand and one lone crutch in the other as I face the front door. The toolbox almost slips to the floor when I see her.
Mom crosses the kitchen and takes the box from me. Nia and Gemma power walk to the living room, whispering frantically.
All I can do is stare.
Gasp for breath, and stare.
“Should I have called first?” Maggie’s bottom lip tugs through her teeth. A pale blue V-neck T-shirt and short denim shorts end with cowgirl boots. A trucker hat sits on her head, and aviators cover her face before she slides them off and they hang between her fingers.
Fuck no. This is the best surprise I’ve ever had.
Stunned, I rub my dirty, wet hand over my ripped jeans before sending it through my hair. She’s a wet man’s dream.
“Sorry, I would have text, but I didn’t want to second-guess myself,” she says quietly.
I hobble to where she stands. Her gaze travels over my body, taking in the crutch and the ripped jeans that don’t conceal the brace well. “I couldn’t sleep knowing you were here having to do everything yourself an—”
“We help!” Nia calls out from the next room.
Maggie laughs, glancing toward the source of the sound.
“Nia, stop eavesdropping. It’s rude,” I send back.
Giggles burst, and the smile that blooms over Maggie’s face is worth the slight embarrassment from the meddling my little sisters come factory-set with when it concerns my love life.
“Come on, let’s get out of here.” I hobble for the front door.
“Where are we going?” Maggie asks.
“Home, Sunshine.”
I hold the door open for her.
She looks confused but walks out anyway. I follow, shutting the door behind me. Two heads pop around the doorframe into the hallway as we leave. I give them the stink eye and point the universal ‘don’t even think about it’ gesture.
Maggie’s van sits outside the homestead. As much as I’m loving the sight of it here, parked in front of my house would be much better.
She opens the passenger door for me, and I walk past her, making my way to the driver’s seat, holding it open.
Laughing, she wanders to where I stand. Her hand presses to my chest. “You’re so wet.”
I wink at her, and she pivots on her heel and slips behind the wheel. Now I walk to the other side and send the crutch in first, over the back of the seat to the living space. Maggie turns the key in the ignition and shifts her focus to me. “How do we get there?”
“Follow the gravel road down past the barn.”
She smiles, turning the van around.
It takes all of two minutes to make it to my house. We park out front, and Maggie leans her forearms on the steering wheel looking up at the white farmhouse with its double dormers, a wraparound porch, and big wide windows with a sigh. “Wow, cowboy, this is your house . . .”
I chuckle. “Sure is.” I push out of the van and slide the crutch out before making my way to the driver’s door. It pops open, and I push it wider and Maggie steps out. Wonder crosses her face, filling mine with pure joy. Having her here. Seeing her happy after our last call . . .
My chest tightens.
I slide the van’s door open to find her overnight bag and swing it onto my shoulder.
“I can do that.” Maggie reaches for the bag. “You have a spare room, right?”
“Ah . . . actually, only got one bed. Sorry, Sunshine.”