Chapter 28
twenty-eight
Chance waited outside his father’s hospital room for the doctor to finish, feeling as if gravity was too much for his body to bear. Even the cold air blowing from the vent seemed heavy against his skin, raising bruises where it landed.
He scrubbed a hand over his face. He was exhausted and… and… and God knew what else, thinking crap like the air was hurting him. Hard to believe about a month ago, they’d been here for Madeleine's birth.
And now he was here for this.
His brothers waited with him. Ruby had left for home hours ago, needing to get things arranged so she could take some time off. Thank God Cordy was safe at home.
Chance hadn’t let himself call Cordy either, or he might have ended up giving in and letting her come. He’d been terrified she’d show up. Chance wanted her with him so bad his chest ached, but this was no place for her and the baby. Someone down the hall had been hacking his head off for the past two hours—Madeleine couldn’t be anywhere near that. She was too fragile.
Thankfully, Cordy hadn’t come to the hospital. She’d probably had a quiet day with the baby, the kind of day that was the opposite of his.
His fist clenched around nothing as if he could gather up their day, pull it close to him. The only thing that had gotten him through this was the image of Cordy and Madeleine at home, living their gentle, innocent lives, totally untouched by the grief that was crushing him.
“Rye.” Quint’s voice was cut up, raw, like it’d been pummeled in a rock tumbler. “You ought to stay at my house tonight. No point being out there alone.”
Rye shook his head. “I don’t mind. And Pard and the rest of the animals need taking care of.”
“Cordy’s got him,” Chance said. “And I’ve got to call her.”
“Ruby talked to her,” Quint said.
Good, that was settled then. Chance could give her the full story once he got home. Although he might not tell her everything—it had been fucking harrowing to see.
They’d been checking cattle in the south pasture with everything going as well as it could have. The heifers were fat, the calves were frisky, and the grass was lush. Still, Chance wished he was at home with Cordy and Madeleine. He missed them. But he had to practice for when they were gone. Better to stay away and try to get used to their absence.
And then Holden collapsed.
There had been a moment where he wasn’t responding when Chance thought this was finally it—the old man was dying. Chance always expected to feel relieved when that happened, but what he’d felt in the moment was terror and grief.
Chance didn’t want his father to die after all. And Holden hadn’t.
The doctor came out, looking grave and almost as tired as Chance felt. “You’re Holden’s sons?”
They all nodded.
“I’m Dr. Tran. I’m the cardiologist on call.” Dr. Tran crossed his arms. “Your dad had a pretty serious heart attack—there’s been significant damage to the heart muscle. He’s not currently under the care of a cardiologist, is he?”
Chance shook his head. “He won’t go to the doctor.”
He immediately felt guilty because they should have made Holden go. This might not have happened if they had.
“Okay,” the doctor said. “Well, he’ll need one for continuing care. And once he’s out of the hospital, I suggest he move to a skilled nursing facility. They can best implement his rehabilitation program.”
“So… he can recover?” Quint asked.
“The heart can heal, so there will be some recovery. How much is unclear right now, but the rehabilitation will help with that.”
“All right,” Chance said, “we’ll move him to a nursing home.”
“I suggest Shady Oaks. They have a good program.”
Chance held in his grimace. Shady Oaks was owned by the Bucklands—no one would be happy about sending Dad there. But if that’s what the doctor suggested…
“We’ll get on it,” Quint said. “Anything else we should be doing?”
Dr. Tran shook his head. “He’s in good hands here. You can go see him now.”
They all thanked the doctor, shook his hand, and then shuffled into the room.
It felt crowded with the bed and machines around it. Holden seemed small under the thin hospital blankets, wires running in and out of him. If he’d looked bad before, he was even worse now.
But Holden was alive. Chance couldn’t begin to describe the emotions running through him.
Dad blinked at all of them. “I’m not dead.”
“No.” Quint’s voice was heavy. “You’re not.”
“I thought I was going to join your mama. But I’m still here.”
Chance couldn’t tell if Holden was disappointed or not. He got pissed anyway.
“Yeah, you are still here.” Chance stepped forward and jabbed his finger at his father. “And you need to stay here.”
“You boys don’t need me.”
No, they probably didn’t. At least not now. They’d needed him when Mom had first died, but Holden had chosen the bottle. It was too late to make amends.
Or was it?
“Your grandbaby needs you,” Chance said. “And yes, your sons too. You can’t die yet.”
Holden sat up straighter. “She’s a good baby.”
“She’s the best. And with how Cordy’s parents are, she’ll need you . So get better, you son of a bitch.”
Quint snorted as he choked back a laugh. Rye covered his mouth to hide his smile.
A light came into Holden’s eyes. A light Chance hadn’t seen in a long, long time. “Cordy’s sticking with you? And the baby?”
“I’m gonna do my best to keep her, yes.”
He’d realized that sometime in the long hours waiting to hear about Holden. Chance had been an idiot for telling her she should get the keys to Reed’s house. An idiot almost as big as his father had been, but at least Chance had time to fix his mistake.
“Finally,” Holden said. “You’re a Kessal—you can’t live without her.”
No, Chance couldn’t. The old man was finally speaking sense.
“Tell you what,” Chance said, “I’ll do my best to keep Cordy and the baby here if you promise to do everything the doctors tell you.”
Holden considered that.
“You’d better take that deal,” Quint warned. “Or else we’ll doctor you whether you cooperate or not.”
“I guess I have to, then.” But Holden sounded pleased.
“That’s right,” Rye said. “Your only job is to get better.”
“You boys need to get home and see to the stock.” Holden’s voice was stronger than it had been in years. “No point waiting around here.”
As if they’d been fucking around in the waiting room this entire time and not going out of their damn minds.
But all Chance said was, “All right. We’ll see you tomorrow.”
As soon as they were in the hallway, Quint grabbed Chance’s arm. “So it’s your baby now?”
“Well, mine and Reed’s, but yeah—Cordy and Madeleine are mine.” Chance rubbed the back of his neck. “I’ve got to go tell her that. I might have screwed things up some this morning.”
He might have ruined them entirely. Shit, he needed to explain to Cordy what she meant to him before she started packing. If she got started on leaving, she might not stop—she was too good at it.
“Rye and I will deal with the stock then. You run home and tell her how you feel.”
“Thank you.” Chance clasped Quint’s arm, not sure what else to say.
Rye slapped Chance’s shoulder. “Good luck.”
“I’ll need it.”
The drive home seemed to take forever. The speedometer kept creeping past the limit, and Chance would have to force himself to slow down. No point getting into a wreck or getting pulled over.
He breathed a sigh of relief when he came to the turn-off for the ranch. Finally, he was almost there.
Another car was pulling out of the road and onto the highway. At the last moment, Chance recognized it as Jaycee and Gareth’s.
They were going too fast for Jaycee to do more than wave at him from the passenger seat. But Chance caught the flash of sympathy on her face.
And then he saw the boxes piled up in the back of their minivan. Cordy’s name was on them.
He knew those boxes. He’d helped Cordy move them into his house a few weeks earlier.
What the hell was going on? Why did Jaycee have Cordy’s moving boxes?
Was Cordy leaving him?
Chance’s heart jumped like he’d been hit with a cattle prod. He might already be too late. Christ, if he’d screwed up the best thing that had happened to him, run off the woman he needed more than air…
As he rushed home, he let the speedometer run as high as he could, never once touching the brakes.