Chapter 6
Chapter Six
D on’t do it, man. Not again.
Chevy told himself not to, but he couldn’t help it.
The town of Woodland Hills was laid out in a long rectangle with the streets running longwise named for native trees, Aspen Grove Lane, Blue Spruce Street, Ponderosa Pine Avenue, Juniper Way, and Douglas Fir Drive, intersected by numbered streets.
Main Street ran through the middle of downtown with a courthouse in the center and the businesses fanning out in the blocks surrounding it. The houses and neighborhoods filled either side of the downtown area, with the larger more upscale homes built into the forested areas closer to the mountainside.
Aspen Grove Lane was named for the long band of aspen trees that ran along the creek behind the houses, including the yellow one toward the end of the lane where Chevy knew Leni was staying.
He tried to drive past her street. But it was as if the truck had a mind of its own, and suddenly his blinker was on, and he was turning the steering wheel. Just like he’d done the night before and the night before that.
He was completely conflicted—one minute feeling like a lovesick teenager driving by his crush’s house and hoping to catch a glimpse of her in the yard or through the window, the next feeling like a pervy creep driving down his crush’s street and hoping to catch a glimpse of her in the yard or through the window.
The night before, the house had been dark, except for one of the upstairs windows. The window used to be Leni’s room, but he wasn’t sure if Lorna had kept it for her. He knew Lorna and Max had moved back in with her mom after that jackass, Lyle, had left them. But then, during the middle of Lorna’s pregnancy, her and Leni’s mom had decided to remarry and move to Florida with her new husband, leaving Lorna the house.
The upstairs window gave off a soft glow, and he imagined Leni inside, tucked in bed, wearing a big T-shirt and fuzzy socks—because her feet were always cold. She’d be leaning against the headboard, her nose in a book, oblivious to the time, absorbed in some story.
Or the room could belong to Max now or have been turned into a nursery. Or Lorna could have taken it when Leni left, and she had the light on because she was up with the baby.
It was earlier tonight than it had been when he’d driven by the night before. The clock on his dash read a little past eight, so the sun had just set, but it was still light enough to see. But tonight, there was no soft glow of lamp light.
Instead, the flash of red and blue strobe lights pulsed through the dusky sky.
Chevy’s heart raced as he got closer, then stopped altogether when he realized the ambulance and a firetruck were parked in front of Lorna’s house.
He slammed on the brakes as he jerked the wheel to the right, almost jumping the curb in his haste to park. He threw the truck in park, cut the engine, and scrambled from the cab, almost tripping over a small yellow dump truck that had been forgotten on the sidewalk.
The front door was open, and he could hear the voices of the emergency personnel, the click squawks of their mics and their clipped measured tones, speaking over the sound of a hysterically crying baby.
He practically ran through the front door then froze at the sight of a woman strapped onto a stretcher. All he could see was curly hair, stained and matted with blood, hanging off the edge.
The house had the living room in the front and the kitchen in the back with a long flight of stairs in between leading up to the bedrooms.
More blood was streaked along the stairway wall and pooled at the foot of the steps.
Swallowing the bile rising in his throat as his chest filled with terror and dread, he took a step toward the stretcher as he called out her name. “Leni!”
Relief flooded through him as she stepped out of the kitchen, bouncing the crying baby on her chest. Her eyes were wide as she tried to focus on the stretcher, reaching one hand out to the prone figure who must be her sister, while using the other to try to calm the distraught child.
She had on a pair of black shorts and a sleeveless top, and red blood was streaked along one of her hands and up her arm. Another dab of blood was smudged across her forehead.
He strode toward Leni, sweeping her and the baby into his arms, careful not to crush them, but needing to hold her. “I got you,” he said into Leni’s hair.
Her free arm wrapped around his back, her fingers gripping his shirt as she pressed into his chest. She whispered his name before pulling away, her eyes big and scared as she stared up at him, words tumbling out of her mouth over the cries of the baby. “Lorna. She fell down the stairs. Hit her head. I heard her fall. So much blood. I didn’t know what to do. She passed out when she tried to stand up, so I called the ambulance.”
“You did the right thing,” he told her, gently taking the baby from her and rubbing the infant’s back as he tucked her into the spot between his chest and his neck. She was so tiny. He could almost cover her whole body with his palm.
He pulled Leni back into the crook of his shoulder, holding her tightly against him as he offered soft coos and shushes against the downy soft hair of the baby’s head.
Chevy heard another cry and turned to see Max, who had been curled into a small ball in the corner of the sofa, crawl down and launch himself toward them. He squeezed between them, clinging to both Chevy and Leni’s legs.
Leni reached down and cupped his head. “It’s okay, honey.”
One of the paramedics—a tall black man with a reassuring smile—walked toward them as the other one maneuvered the stretcher out the front door and toward the waiting ambulance. “I’m sure your sister’s going to be fine,” he told Leni. “Her ankle is pretty swollen, and she’s probably gonna need a few stitches where she cut her head. We’re taking her to the hospital where they’ll assess her injuries, run a few tests, probably get an x-ray of her leg. You’re welcome to follow us so you can be with her at the hospital, but we’re leaving now.”
“I don’t know what to do,” Leni cried as she looked up at Chevy. “I don’t even have my car here. It’s plugged in at the library. And I can’t leave the kids. But I don’t want Lorna to be by herself.”
He put his keys into her hand. “Take my truck. I’ll stay here with the kids.”
“No. I can’t ask you to do that. I’ll call…” She pressed her hand to her mouth. “I don’t know who to call.”
“You don’t have to call anyone. I’ve got this.” He cupped her chin in his palm, tilting her face up toward his as he spoke in a low, calm tone. “She’s going to be okay. I can handle the kids. You follow the ambulance in my truck and call me when you know something. I’m only a phone call or a text away. My number’s the same. Do you need me to give it to you again?” He’d never changed it, just in case she ever decided to reach out to him.
“No, I’ve still got it.” She clasped his keys to her chest as she pressed her lips together, so hard that he knew she was doing everything she could to hold it together.
He shrugged out of his flannel shirt, gently shifting Izzy—who had calmed down and stopped crying as she snuggled into the warmth of his shoulder—and held it out to Leni. “Put this on.”
She must have been in shock because she didn’t argue with him. She just pulled the shirt on. The sleeves were too long, but she didn’t seem to notice as she wrapped the rest of the shirt around her body.
Her eyes still looked glazed, so he gripped one of her shoulders, just hard enough to get her to look up at him. “Listen to me, Eleanor Gibbs you can do this. For Pete’s sake, you told me that you help build spacecraft for a living. Now you’re going to get in my truck, drive to the hospital, and take care of your little sister. Because she needs you.”
She stared into his eyes as if drawing strength from his gaze, then she nodded and pressed a kiss to Izzy’s head before bending down to pull Max into a hug. His small arms wrapped around her neck, stretching the sleeves of his Paw Patrol pajamas as he hugged her tight. “Aunt Leni, is my mommy gonna be okay?”
Leni squeezed him to her, forcing a smile as she used the back of her hand to swipe away the tears from her cheeks. “Yes, of course she is, buddy. I know this seems scary, but those people who were here are taking good care of your mommy. And I’m going to the hospital to keep an eye on her. Are you okay staying with Chevy?”
He nodded, reaching to take Chevy’s hand. “Yes. I want you to go. I don’t want mommy to be all alone in the big hospital.”
“Oh, sweet boy.” She pressed a kiss to his cheek. “She won’t be. I’ll be with her the whole time.”
The front door was still open, and Chevy could see the ambulance pulling away. “Better go,” he told Leni.
She hurried to the door and stuffed her feet into a pair of sneakers that had been left there. Gripping the door frame, she turned back to Chevy. “You sure?”
He nodded, giving her his most sincere expression. “Yes. I got this. Go.”
“Lorna just fed Izzy so she should be okay for a few hours. Call if you need me.”
“Go.”
“Thank you,” she mouthed before turning and running across the lawn and toward his truck.
He closed the door behind her then scooped Max up into his arms. “Don’t worry, bud. Your mom is gonna be fine. And I know she wouldn’t want you to worry. How about we get you a drink of water then I’ll read you a book before you go back to bed.”
Max wrinkled his nose as he pondered the idea then held up two fingers. “Two books?”
Chevy squinted at him as if he were considering the negotiation. “Okay. Three books. But that’s my final offer.”
Max giggled. “Deal.”
The memories washed over her as Leni climbed into Chevy’s truck. It wasn’t the same one they used to ride around in together—this one was newer—but it still smelled the same. Like him. A heady mixture of warm leather, sunbaked dirt, a hint of horse blanket, and the woodsy scent of his cologne.
A shiver ran through her, and she wrapped the sides of his shirt around her. The flannel smelled like him too and only fueled more memories.
Shoving the memories down, she reached to start the truck and noticed the rust-colored blood dried across her wrist and up her arm. Stifling a cry, she scrubbed at the blood with the sleeve of Chevy’s shirt. She knew what he did on the ranch and was sure this faded flannel had seen worse than a spatter of dried blood.
Pull it together, girl.
She sat up in the seat, pushed her shoulders back and inhaled a deep breath. She had no idea why the hell Chevy Lassiter had walked into their house at the exact moment that she needed him, but he was right about one thing. Lorna needed her now.
And she could do this.
She put the truck in drive and then spent the whole ten-minute drive repeating the phrase, “Please God, let Lorna be okay.”
Leni might be the big sister, but she counted on Lorna for so many things. And her kids needed their mommy. She had to be okay.
It was just after midnight when they finally released Lorna. They’d been there over four hours, and she’d gotten five stitches in her head and an ex-ray that showed a fracture in her ankle. After wrapping it, the doctor let her go with instructions to come back in a few days after the swelling had gone down and they’d determine if she needed a cast or if she’d be able to get by with just a walking boot.
Not that she was going to be doing much walking. The doctor had also given her a set of crutches and strict orders to keep her leg elevated and to ice it every few hours for the next few days.
A nurse helped Lorna into a wheelchair while Leni ran out to get the truck and met them at the front door. Together, she and the nurse got her sister up into the truck, and Leni carefully buckled her in then tucked the bag with all the instructions and medications behind the seat.
“Did you steal this truck?” her sister asked as Leni climbed into the driver’s seat and started the engine. “Because I’m not sure they’ll let me breastfeed in jail, and my boobs are killing me.” She wrapped her arm across her swollen chest then leaned her head back against the seat and closed her eyes. “Actually, my whole body is killing me.”
“You took quite a fall. You’ll probably have bruises popping up all over the next few days,” Leni said, avoiding the comment about the truck.
They both knew who the pickup belonged to.
“I hate these crutches already,” Lorna said, ten minutes later as Leni tried to help her up the steps to the house. The railing had long since rotted and fallen off, which made the steps even more treacherous and hard to maneuver. “How am I going to carry the baby using these?”
Leni heard the catch in her sister’s voice. Lorna hadn’t cried yet, but she could tell she was on the verge. The stupid crutches might be what pushed her over the edge.
“I’ll help you,” Leni said, wrapping her arm around Lorna’s waist as they managed another step. “Whatever you need.”
They were both out of breath as they made it through the front door, then Lorna stopped, her mouth falling open as she peered around the room. “What the hell happened to my house?”