Chapter 8
CHAPTER EIGHT
Val called the hospital to learn that her father had already been taken into surgery. On the one hand, she was so relieved that he remained alive that her face felt numb. On the other, though, she wasn’t there. Guilt jettisoned through her system like poison. Despite all her attempts to stay close enough to help should her dad need her, she’d failed.
She’d totally failed. And now that her plane had taken off, she couldn’t even contact anyone.
Mitzi had offered to go with her, but the excess cost of another ticket kept Val from saying yes. It’d been the most fiscally responsible decision—one she as her own manager felt it necessary to make—but she would give a lot to not be so alone right now. Val clutched onto her seatbelt so hard her knuckles went white as she sat there in her aisle seat next to people who were chatting or reading or sleeping like it was any other day.
For them, it probably was any other ordinary day. But for her… Everything hinged on this plane’s ability to get her to Billings before anything terrible occurred with her dad. But no, that wasn’t true, either. Something terrible had already happened while she was away from home, and she didn’t know what to do… And…
Calm down , she ordered herself.
She didn’t even need to have her seatbelt on anymore since the light above her head had gone out. Yet she didn’t release the latch. She felt too wound up to move.
Even aboard this plane, the trip would take over six hours, and that was after the additional ninety minutes she’d had to wait at the airport and on the tarmac. Then, she’d have to navigate through the airport at Billings, something she’d only ever done with either Biggs or… Or her dad.
Val had patted herself on the back for going off on her lonesome and owning her adulthood a few months back. But now, she didn’t know if she was cut out for this after all. She might be thirty, but all the missteps she’d made in her twenties felt like they were catching up with her. If only she’d been smarter. Wiser. If only she’d seen this coming and refused to do any rodeos outside Montana.
Sure, they needed the funds her riding would bring. Her little one-woman show provided her dad with their sole support system. But still.
Her brain continued to race like this, driving her right up the wall. Some small part of her realized that all this circular thinking would do her no good, but she couldn’t seem to stop. No matter what she did, it seemed to be wrong, and she didn’t know how to change that.
“Would you like some water, sweetie? Looks like you might need some.” The voice came from the male flight attendant standing above her. His coloring, blond hair and light blue eyes, might have reminded her of Biggs if everything else about the man reminded her of anyone but. Especially when he knelt down so he could be on eye level with her, holding out a cup of ice water. “Not a great flyer?”
She didn’t have the wherewithal to explain the complicated scenario she found herself in, so she chose to nod mutely instead, somehow managing to take the cup from him.
“Some passengers are. You know what usually helps? Music. Would you like me to get you some headphones? You can listen to whatever you want.”
He had a such a compassionate energy about him that anyone could detect it. “Th-thank you.” She’d just stammered her response. Maybe because her tongue seemed to stuck to the roof of her mouth from dryness. She took a sip of her water, and it helped. “That’d be nice.”
Not only did he bring her the aforementioned headphones, he handed over a fresh smelling pillow and blanket, too. She didn’t know why, but it made tears prick her eyes. She’d already cried a virtual river after hearing the news about her dad’s heart attack, so she didn’t think she had any moisture left.
Evidently, she was wrong about that, as well.
“If you can rest, that often makes travel easier,” the flight attendant advised, his voice soft. While she knew he had the best of intentions, she sincerely doubted she could drift off under these circumstances. And that was despite not sleeping at all last night.
Regardless, her midwestern upbringing had her saying, “I’ll try. Thank you.”
Releasing the death grip she had on her seatbelt, she drank the rest of her water. It made her throat fill much less cotton-like. Then, she leaned her seat back a few inches, but not enough to infringe on the room of the passenger behind her.
Staring at the tiny nozzles over her head that included a light and an air vent, she focused on them. Only after several minutes did she allow her eyes to slide closed.
Please let my dad be all right , she prayed. Please, please, please .
The plane jolting against some unidentifiable surface had Val jerking forward in her seat, and only then did she absorb that against all odds, she’d drifted to sleep. Anxiety swelling, she turned her head to the side and noticed that they were on the ground. Had they been forced to land early at another airport? They couldn’t have reached Billings already.
“Where are we?” she asked, her palms gripping each of her armrests.
“Montana,” the woman said, her business suit not even wrinkled.
“Where in Montana?”
“Billings.” The woman raised a brow. “It is our destination.”
Val couldn’t believe she’d somehow slept at a time like this. Her mouth was again parched, and her throat hurt. Not because it was dry but because she was so frightened of the outcome of her father’s surgery. What if he didn’t make it?
She’d never forgive herself for not staying closer to home.
Val grabbed her phone to check it only to find it dead. She typically charged it overnight, but this time… Well, she hadn’t. Nor had she thought to bring her charger with her so she could plug it into the outlet next to her seat. Scowling at the endlessly dark and inoperative screen, she bustled down the aisle as soon as she’d been given permission.
Locating a rental car and navigating on her own to the hospital became a circus of missed turns and honked horns since she’d seldom been in this part of town before. Also, even when she had, she hadn’t been the one behind the wheel. With no GPS to guide her, she simply did her best from memory, going in the general direction she thought it was in.
By the time she reached the tall building, Val felt so frazzled that she might’ve fallen apart if she’d had the luxury of doing so. Since she didn’t, she pushed on, stopping first at the information desk there on the first floor.
“Can you tell me where Fred Bernard is?”
“Name, please?”
“Val. I’m his daughter.”
The lady tapped her long, painted fingernails on the computer displayed in front of her. “Ah, yes. Third floor, room 335. Your husband’s there waiting on you.”
Val blinked at the woman, only then noticing the blue woven through her curly hair. She almost questioned the term “husband” to her but caught herself in the nick of time. Mark had promised to come here in her stead. He must’ve fibbed about being her legal spouse to get access to her dad.
Unless it was someone else. Someone like Biggs. But Biggs wouldn’t do that. He didn’t know about this, had no way of knowing. She was being ridiculous.
Wasn’t she?
The minute Val stepped foot in that waiting area and laid eyes on Sheriff Mark Talbot, a man she’d literally only been with in person once, she hurried up to him. She barely registered the fact that he wasn’t in uniform as he reached out his hands to grasp onto hers. Needing the human contact, Val let him.
“Dad?”
“He’s going to be fine.”
She released a sob, unable to hold it back. “You swear?”
His lips turned upward at the edges, and his eyes, those periwinkle orbs, twinkled at her. “That’s what the surgeon told me. By the way, I might’ve bent the truth a little to get access up here.”
“I don’t care if you told them you were the Easter Bunny,” she told him, meaning it. “I’m just glad you’re here.”
Dropping his hands—that contact no longer felt like enough—she next looped her arms around Mark’s middle and embraced him. Only after she did it did Val absorb how forward of her that was, but Mark didn’t seem to mind as he hugged her snugly to him. It felt lovely to be encased by him, to breathe in his leather and cotton scent, one she comprehended that she’d inhaled before. It must’ve been that night at the Rocky Ridge Rodeo.
How peculiar that it felt like coming home.
It also soothed her in a manner than nothing else had. “When can I see him?”
“Now, if you’d like. He’s pretty out of it and groggy, but once I explained that I was here for you, he allowed me to hang out with him.”
Mark showed her into the room, and although her dad looked noticeably pale, when he saw her, his face lit up. “There’s my girl.”
Relieved past comprehension, she forced her mouth to smile as she stood at attention and saluted him. “Mother hen, reporting for duty.”
Her dad waved her over, and she wanted to collapse and press him tightly to her. She couldn’t, though. She didn’t dare. Not after major surgery. So she gripped onto his IV free arm like it was a lifeline.
“I’m okay,” he told her as she rubbed at that arm with both hands.
“You scared me half to death,” she informed her dad, not holding back now that she knew he was okay. “Tell me what happened.”
“I wasn’t feeling so good, you know. Thought it was indigestion until I got all sweaty and my left arm started to hurt. Then, I dialed 911.”
“I’m so sorry I wasn’t here,” she whispered, feeling about an inch tall.
“You couldn’t be, honey. You’re our bread and butter.” She gaped at him. Not once had he ever referred to her like that, even if the description was accurate. “You have been for years now. I’m not ignorant to that fact, and I’m man enough to admit it. Even when I was managing you, it was your spectacular riding abilities that brought home the paychecks. Not me. Not for a long time now. I told myself it was okay because you loved doing it so much.”
“I do love doing it. But I love you more.”
There was the shuffling of feet on tile nearby and when she peeked up, she noticed that Mark was no longer in the room. He was giving them some privacy, and she so appreciated him for recognizing their need for it.
“I have a worn-out ticker,” her dad said. “But they just gave me a tune up. Think I should be good for the next several years after this.”
“I’ll tell Mitzi to come home with Maybelline. I’ll stay nearby from now on.”
“Not necessary, honey.”
“I think it is,” she argued. “It was torture finding out you needed me when I wasn’t here. Sheer torture.”
“It’s up to you, then.” To her shock, he merely shrugged, but the movement made him wince. “This is your career, not mine. But now that I’ve had this bypass, I should be good to go.”
“Bypass surgery? That’s the kind they gave you?”
“Quadruple bypass, apparently.”
“Four of your blood vessels were blocked? But you see your doctor every six weeks. How did they miss this?” She felt appalled they hadn’t noticed how bad off he’d become.
“We’ve updated his cholesterol medication and put him on some additional prescriptions,” a man in a white coat said as he entered the room. “I’m Dr. Smith, your father’s cardiothoracic surgeon. Also, he’ll need to get a bit stricter on his diet. No more fried, fast, or processed foods. And he’ll need to greatly limit his red meat consumption.”
“Those are his favorites,” Val explained to the doctor.
“That’ll need to change, I’m afraid. More fruits and vegetables. Lean meats. We’ll send him home with a proper nutrition plan. I thought we’d already done so.”
Val squinted her eyes at her father, who suddenly looked sheepish. “Have you been hiding your doctor’s recommendations from me?”
“I didn’t think a burger now and then would hurt,” he said, his tone rebellious.
“Well, it obviously did hurt. Look at you.” She pointed at her dad accusingly, then dropped her finger. She’d been so overwrought about this, but the last thing her father needed was unkind accusations. Even if they were true.
She’d just need to do a better job observing him.
The surgeon stepped closer and checked his vitals. “One thing that helps sometimes is to sign up for one of those meal delivery plans. Some come prepared ahead of time so that all you’d have to do is pop it in the oven or microwave. Heart-healthy meals are an option. The Mediterranean diet is also a good choice. Very flavorful. Most of my patients who try it end up loving it. That is, if you’re looking for recommendations.”
“But red meat includes steak,” her dad groused. She might’ve empathized had he not nearly died.
“You can have steak on your birthday. How about that?” she said, glancing at Dr. Smith. The surgeon nodded. All right, then.
“In the meantime, take it easy and after a few days we’ll get you out of here,” the surgeon said. “Follow the rules and with any luck, you’ll stay out of here.”
“Hmmph,” was her father’s reply. Grumpiness wasn’t his customary response, but since he’d so recently had his chest carved open, Val kept that thought to herself.
When a couple of nurses came to take her dad for a scan, Val wandered back out into the corridor in search of Mark. She didn’t find him, and dread that he might’ve had to depart to go back on the job gripped her. The sensation was so visceral, so intense that she wondered at it. Val didn’t know how, but along the way somewhere, he’d become someone important to her. Vital, even.
As much as she hated that he’d likely left, she felt thankful that he’d gone to all the trouble of being here for her dad—for her—in the first place. Huddling alone in the waiting room, she relaxed in a way that she hadn’t until now, not even while sleeping. Mark had driven the two hours from his hometown to be here having never met her dad and without even knowing her all that well.
She didn’t deserve him.
Too full of nervous energy now, Val stood with her back to the people milling about so she could peer out the window. Traveling across time zones meant that she’d gone from Central Standard Time to Mountain, and though that amounted to only an hour’s difference, she still felt as if she was reeling.
So much had occurred in such a few short hours.
And, she remembered, she had a show in San Antonio tomorrow. Tonight, rather. One she hadn’t even thought about cancelling until this very moment. She was hopeless on her own. She really was. Worse, she didn’t even have her phone to contact Mitzi and ask her to do what should’ve done herself.
Then, as if her desperation had summoned him, Mark was there.
Had she imagined him? She blinked, but he kept strolling toward her. Thank goodness.
“Mark, I hate to ask this of you after everything you’ve done…”
“What do you need?”
“Do you have your phone? Mine’s dead and I need to cancel my show for tonight. It’s late notice as it is.”
“No problem.”
She had to Google the number since it wasn’t already in his contacts, and it hit her just how much Mitzi covered for her. She’d have to do something special for her bestie once they were reunited. She owed her big. Huge.
Yet as she got through, the organizer there at the fairgrounds seemed nonplussed. “Oh, yes. I have that information here. Family emergency. No issue at all.”
Mitzi no doubt. Again.
“Everything good?” Mark asked as she gave him back his phone.
“Sometimes I take the people around me for granted, I think.” She glanced toward her father’s room. She’d come shocking close to losing him, and the knot of that possibility filled her stomach, making it ache. “I have to learn to do better by those I care about.”
“I’m certain you’re doing the best you can.”
“Are you always so kind and generous with those you interact with?”
“Considering how often I deal with those breaking the law, I’d have to say no,” Mark answered her, wearing the slightest of smirks. It was attractive on him. Way too attractive.
“I suppose I should avoid becoming a criminal then, huh?”
“That would be helpful,” he teased, reaching his arms out wide as if to embrace her again. Eagerly, she went to him, letting him encapsulate her for a second time. It felt like heaven.
It was heaven.
He had this gift for comforting her, yet beneath that was this zip beneath her skin, a zip of awareness and familiarity. She didn’t know where it came from. She and Mark weren’t familiar with one another. Yet it felt as if she’d known him forever.
How was that even possible?
Before the medical staff wheeled her father back to his room, Mark pulled back from her. She could tell how reluctant he was.
“Hate to do this, but I have an early shift tomorrow.”
“I understand. I can’t thank you enough for being here, for being my stand-in.” He’d been plenty more than that.
“My pleasure, Val.”
While still close, he pressed his lips to her temple. It was a fleeting feel of feather light softness, there one minute and gone the next, yet it felt as natural as anything she’d ever experienced before. Then, in short order and with a friendly if wistful wave, he was gone.