53. Maybe Eight Is Too Many
MAYBE EIGHT IS TOO MANY
brAXTON
Elias and Ralph enter just after the medical staff swarms. The nurses try to clear the room, try to get me to lay her down on the bed. Not going to happen. That’s for two reasons. The first is she needs the safety I’m offering. The second is I need the calm she is providing.
If I let her go, the holes in the walls of the hospital will get me arrested or in surgery for a shattered hand. Or both. I don’t need witnesses when I release this anger. When this rage bubbles over, I need to be alone.
Emberleigh is saving me from that moment. Or rather, postponing it. Keeping my mind focused on where my hands rest, where her heat seeps into my gut.
I jut my chin to Eli and the sheriff. Eli looks from Wainwright to me with a questioning look but gives me a small thumbs-up, communicating what I need to know. Colt is safe. Brighton is okay. Lockdown has been lifted. He and Ralph wouldn’t be here otherwise.
The sheriff extends a hand to each of his deputies before ushering them out the door.
“Mr. Carrington.” Eli extends a hand.
“Mr. Finchley,” Wainwright replies.
Ralph’s large presence reenters the room, but sans the deputies he left with.
Nurses scurry in and out, largely glaring at me for making their job harder by blocking easy access to Emberleigh.
They can be pissed. The last two days have been a shitshow and I am where I am and not going anywhere.
I’m holding half of my family in my arms until I can hold all of my family in my arms. And I’ll let go sometime in the next decade when the cold grip of fear I’ve had clawing at me all day recedes.
“Sheriff, this is Wainwright Carrington, Emberleigh’s father. Mr. Carrington,” I continue, turning my attention to the smaller man. “This is Sheriff Ralph Gonzales.”
Ralph sizes up the man before him, no doubt recognizing he has a good fifty pounds and half a foot on the older man, before shaking his hand. A frown mars his face.
Eli grabs his phone, and his thumbs fly across the screen. Moments later, the vibration in my back pocket notifies me of his message, but it’s not an option to retrieve it, so I slowly shake my head, looking to Emberleigh.
“Baby, you need to wake up. I know you need rest, but twice in one day is two times too many for my liking.”
“What are you talking about?” Wainwright queries.
I look at Eli, who nods at the sheriff, whose poker face is way better than mine, before lifting my eyes to Emberleigh’s father.
“She’s blacked out twice today. The first was when her mother aimed a gun at her chest and smiled.
She collapsed—Emberleigh, not Bronwyn—and hit her head.
We’re following concussion protocol out of an abundance of caution, though there’s no evidence she has a head injury. ”
Wainwright, breaking all I know of his poised, collected demeanor, raises a hand to his mouth and whispers behind it, “Aimed a gun at her chest?” He backs up until his knees bump the old forest green plastic sofa in the hospital room and he sinks down, giving in under the weight of the day.
“She hasn’t been well. I’ve been trying to get her to see someone.
She only talks about Colt and Emerson. I don’t even know if she knows how to load a gun. ”
He’s talking in present tense, which means he doesn’t yet know she’s no longer with us.
My gaze darts back to Eli and Ralph before settling on Wainwright’s hunched form.
“Emberleigh watched someone get shot through the chest this morning and then found my dad with a bullet wound to the gut. When the gun was drawn on her, I can only assume her mind had had enough and went blank. The doctor said something about it but I’m no trauma expert.
“This—” I squeeze the woman on my lap and indicate her with my eyes. “Is the second time her brain or her body has decided to do it today. She needs a break, not more drama. So, respectfully, sir, stay if you can avoid that. Or choose your daughter’s health and leave if you can’t.”
His eyes shoot up, fire in them telling me his hackles are raised.
But two deep breaths later, he agrees. “I’m not losing another daughter.
I won’t survive it if I lose her knowing she’s alive and well and I bought that sentence.
I said horrible things and I owe her an apology.
I’ll make sure she knows. I’ll make sure of it.
” It’s as if he’s speaking those couple of lines to himself.
I can see where Emberleigh gets her steely resolve. She comes by it honestly.
“Not picking a fight, Wainwright, but our last meeting indicated the exact opposite. Why the one-eighty?”
He stands and walks to me. Eli is on high alert. Ralph moves his hand to rest loosely over his holster, his eyes registering his concern.
“I don’t know you, and you don’t know me.
But I’m guessing after four months with my grandson you have a taste of the love and protectiveness of a father for his child.
” He looks at me holding his daughter. It’s apparent to anyone looking we aren’t merely friends or roommates.
There’s a tenderness that comes from familiarity and intimacy. “Imagine losing him.”
“I have,” I grit out. My eyes might as well be daggers. He’s put me through hell, and I can imagine that scenario easily because of his machinations.
“Wait.” He lifts his hands as if to tamp down my anger. “I mean, twenty-eight years of that life. Imagine all hope is lost but there’s a piece still out there. All you have left. Would you not fight for it?”
“Until my last breath.”
“Then you understand?”
“I understand that you want another man to feel the same pain. For neither of us to have relief.”
“I never want anyone else to feel this. Never. It’s unbearable.”
I look down at Emberleigh but speak to her father. “You should tell her that, you know. That last meeting… She has the same loss, but has to think you’d forfeit her, too, for Emerson’s legacy.”
“I was desperate. I am desperate. And Bronwyn is worse. Balancing all of our interests left no time for worrying about your feelings. But, if I’m honest, I never assumed Emberleigh would want anything but Colt and to be home.”
“She is home.”
“I see that.” He looks at his daughter in my arms. His eyes register love and pain, peace and turmoil.
When he gazes up, he turns to Eli. “I’ve made a mess of things.
I’ll undo what I can. Please undo the rest.” Turning to me, he continues, “If you’ll have us, her mother and I would like to be a part of your lives.
We don’t know how to do this, but I beg you so that neither of us would suffer the additional loss. ”
“Wainwright,” I start, but Eli shakes his head where the man cannot see, so I change mid-sentence, not admitting that their us isn’t an option anymore and that he’s had yet another loss. “Did you really send a text to Emberleigh warning her?
He pulls out his phone, showing me the call log and the text string. “I’ve been called ruthless more than once in my life. But I’d never risk my daughter or grandson.”
“Thank you. Make your amends with Emberleigh. When she’s good with that and feels comfortable again, you’re welcome in our home. But that’s hers to determine. I’ll honor her decision.”
He exhales so huge that it’s almost as if he was holding his breath. “Thank you, Braxton. Bronwyn will be so happy. This will be such a relief for both of us.”
“Eli.” I look around Wainwright. “Can you get Bright to Austin? We’ll be there just as soon as we can. I would rather Pop wake up to family than machines.”
His eyes dart to the sheriff, then to Wainwright, and then to me. I can read his concern. It’s a hell of a catch-22. My family, practically his for years on end, and his client who’s in a hell of a legal pickle.
“And, will y’all call Layton and Exton please? Layton probably can’t make it, but Exton might. And they deserve to know.”
“You sure?” he asks, and it’s not about the phone calls. I’m in a legal quagmire and he’s the team captain.
“I’m sure. Everything else will wait. We’ll be right behind you.”
Eli shakes Wainwright’s hand and the sheriff’s and stops at the door to turn back to me. He opens his mouth, but closes it without saying a word.
“Thanks, Eli. Seriously. Thank you.”
It’s for more than a ride to the hospital. He knows it.
I don’t dislike hospitals, but the waiting is a killer. No pun intended.
When it was Willa, I hated it. With Emberleigh, I’m out of my mind.
Wainwright and Ralph left as visiting hours required, but I refused. Since the sheriff and his deputies wouldn’t comply with removing me, the staff grumbled, but sulked away.
Emberleigh is lying on the hospital bed, covered in dingy white sheets that make her look pale. My beautiful, vibrant woman is too still, too quiet, too agreeable. At no other time can I count on her to not argue with me. I’d pay for her to wake up and be contrary.
Her vitals are fine. They assure me that’s what they would normally worry about. She’s fine, just not awake. And the drugs they could give to lift her from this state can’t be used unless her episode were medically-induced.
So I wait.
I fucking hate waiting.
I’ve been through every app on my phone and watched every video that could hold my attention.
I’ve spoken with Layton, whose game this weekend is in Dallas, so as far as shit timing, it was as good as it gets.
Team rules and pre-game prep mean he won’t be here prior, but Sunday night and Monday, he will be home.
I finally call Exton. He and Willa arrive tomorrow midday from D.C. “We’ll be on the first flight out in the morning. Gotta say, I’m good with never being in a hospital again.”
“Funny,” I deadpan. “I assumed you planned to have kids with your fiancée.” I’m baiting him, but the last six months have seen four hospital stays for our family and I’m with him. I’m good not being here again for any reason other than a baby.
A baby!
I would totally make one of those with Emberleigh. Or eight. Maybe eight is too many. But I’m certainly willing to try for them.
“Home birth.” His answer is quick and decisive.
“Have you run that by Willa?”
His silence is enough to force a chuckle from my throat.
“Yeah. Let me suggest you have her buy-in before you decide she’s having a baby in a luxury D.C. condo.”
“About that,” he starts, but Emberleigh groans and tries to roll.
“Yeah, about that. Talk tomorrow? Emberleigh is waking up.”
“Go. See you tomorrow and give your girl our best. I can’t wait to meet her.” He disconnects, and I slide my phone into my pocket, heading for Emberleigh.
I sit at her hip, smoothing the furrowed lines from between her eyes and sliding the hair from her face. “Baby, if this were a date, I might not ask for a second.”
Her closed eyes pinch together, and her mouth purses.
“If this were a date, I wouldn’t agree to a second,” she replies. Her voice is hoarse and raspy, just awakened and sexy as fuck.
I drop my lips to hers and brush a quick kiss there. I nibble down to her ear and whisper, “You done leaving me?”
A shiver runs through her as I feel her nod against my face. “Scared the fuck out of me, baby. Twice. Not my thing, losing you.”
“Cut me some slack, Braxton. Can’t say I’ve ever had a day like today and sure as hell don’t want a repeat.” She tries to push herself up to sitting, but I keep her prone and push the call button.
“I sure as fuck don’t want a repeat.” I pull a hand down my face, hearing the stubble crunch as it fights my hand.
Emberleigh reaches up and moves her thumb across the whiskers. “You are handsome, Braxton Ranger. You’re a good man. Thank you for today.”
“You’re thanking me?”
“I’m thanking you not for it happening, but for it happening as it did. You saved me. You saved Colt. You saved Pop. I’m just going to believe that. He has to be okay. Period.”
“You found him.”
“I didn’t know who was hit.” She puts both of her hands to her head. “Can’t right now. Can’t go there again. Soon. I’ll tell you soon, but not now. Now I need happy. Tell me anything happy.”
“You’ll meet my brother, Exton, tomorrow. He and his fiancée will be here by early afternoon.” She looks down at herself as if she’s looking for something. “When you meet Willa, just know that Exton thinks she should have a home birth.”
“Is she pregnant?”
“No. And he’s not the hippie type, and she’s no nonsense. But keep that thought in the back of your mind. By Sunday, you’ll understand the humor.”
“They’re coming for Pop?” It’s half statement, half question, and I don’t have time to answer. The nursing staff trundles in to begin their assessment for the umpteenth time today. I’m seriously over hospitals.