Chapter 22
TWENTY-TWO
Hollie
Iurged Cade and the girls to hurry as we followed Bea and a nurse down a white-tiled hallway in the ICU.
My hair was falling out of my messy bun and my lips were dry—I felt so frazzled from the rush and stress of the last few hours.
After my phone call with Jesse, I served the guest breakfast as quickly as I could manage, packed up the kitchen, shoved Bea and the children into my Volvo, and floored it.
The two hour plus drive to get here was tense and emotional, but Bea needed to be with her husband. And I had to help Jesse shuttle Meadowbrook trucks back to the ranch. Because it didn’t look like Tag or Cooper would be leaving the intensive care unit any time soon.
The waiting area for friends and family had maroon carpet that offset the beige walls and soft lighting. It was much more cozy compared to the rest of the hospital—a mercy for the souls forced to sit here and wait for news of their loved ones.
Upon seeing Jesse, Cade tore off ahead of us, throwing himself into his dad’s embrace.Then the automatic doors behind reception whirred open and out came Tag.
Bea quickened her pace until her body slammed into Tag’s arms. Instantly, he tucked his face into the side of her neck.
So far, she’d kept her tears controlled, but that union opened her flood gates.
Tag’s too.
Her face twisted as his shoulders started to shake.
A lump rose in my throat, knotted and painful.
Miracles still happened on occasion, right? My mind’s eye brought back the memories of my family begging for a miracle in Peter’s fight against leukemia.
And he got his.
Maybe Cooper would too.
I was the last person here that spoke to him.
Wondering what had happened was driving me insane.
What I wouldn’t give to go back and crawl inside his head on Saturday morning.
Maybe I could’ve done or said something differently.
If I had known then what I knew now, maybe this could’ve been prevented.
“Hollie.” I startled out of my memories, coming face to face with Jesse.
“Hey.”
“Hey.” Today, his vibrance flickered. Grey circles had formed beneath his dull eyes, and his brow was etched with worry.
He also looked so…normal? He didn’t have his hat on, so his red brown waves were disheveled and free—could honestly use a brush and a shower.
His untucked olive green t-shirt, jeans, and tennis shoes made him look like the most regular guy on the planet.
For a second we stood there, a couple feet apart. Under the circumstances, I wondered if a hug would be appropriate. But I hung back, unwilling to breach the unseen barrier between us.
I finally managed, “How are you?”
“Exhausted.” His eyes quickly took me in, head to toe, taking stock of my wellbeing. “You?”
“I’m fine. What did the doctor say?”
“A lot.” He nodded toward the corridor leading away from the ICU. “Care for a walk? I could use one.”
“Sure.” We called the children along and made our way back down the hall.
“Mom!” Izzy huffed impatiently beside me. “I thought we were going to see Cooper!”
“Honey, we might have to wait a while. Cooper needs a lot of help right now, and we would only be in the way.”
“What happened to him?” Izzy had asked me a hundred times, but I didn’t know how to answer that question yet. When I didn’t immediately answer, she turned to Jesse. “Mr. Jesse, can you tell me what happened?”
His eyes met mine, an unspoken do you mind? in his green irises.
I gave him a go-ahead nod.
He put his hands in his pockets, slowing down to chat with her. “He used some drugs because he thought it would help his pain. But he took way too much and it made him really sick.”
“Oh.” My daughter, who rarely embodied compassion or empathy, softened, her shoulders falling slack. “What was hurting?”
“His heart.”
“You mean, he was sad?”
Jesse nodded. “I haven’t asked him myself, but I think that’s what happened.”
“Is he going to die?”
Jesse sucked a breath. “Honestly, Izzy, he might. I hope he doesn’t though.”
Her voice fell quiet. “Is there anything we can do to help him?” Izzy’s eyes didn’t leave Jesse’s face.
“Well, we can take care of the horses and guests at Meadowbrook so Tag and Bea can spend more time here with him. That way, he won’t have to be alone.”
That made her smile. “I think we can do that.”
He smiled back at her. “I think so, too.”
In a moment’s time, Izzy refocused on her sister and Cade and they all peered out of the glass walls overlooking the parking lot. “Thank you. Bea was so stressed in the car that I discouraged a lot of their questions.”
“I’m sure you were getting a bunch.” His pace stayed slow, meandering across the tile.
I nodded. “Have you seen him?”
“Yeah. For a minute. They’ve got him intubated, on a ventilator.
There are three nurses back there pushing buttons and doing who knows what just trying to keep him alive.
He aspirated some of his vomit, so he’s already got a severe infection.
Tag is being”—he blew a hard breath, shaking his head—“absolutely traumatized back there. Cooper has coded twice.”
“Coded?” I stiffened. “What does that mean?”
“His heart stopped beating.”
For a moment, I couldn’t walk. My feet halted their motion. “And they brought him back?”
“Yeah.”
I placed a hand against my stomach. The mere idea of one of my siblings being back there, hooked up to all those machines, made me feel lightheaded. Poor Tag and Bea had to helplessly stand by and wonder which heartbeat would be Cooper’s last.
The girls tried to get Cade to hop across the intermittent grey tiles. “Did he do it on purpose?”
Jesse looked down at his boots, the answer paining him. “Definitely.”
My chest tightened. “What will they do with him when he wakes up?”
“I have no idea. But I hope they do something because he needs help.”
“A couple days ago, I asked Bea what Cooper’s story was. But she said it wasn’t hers to tell, which is understandable, I guess. Our conversation gave me the vibe that he was…neglected, maybe.”
He gave a bitter laugh. “That’s giving his mom way too much credit.”
“Oh.”
“It’s not my story to tell either. But, I will say, Tag’s accomplishments are an absolute miracle. And Cooper just barely scraping by makes a lot of sense when you know what he comes from.”
“It takes a lot of strength to be better than your roots.”
“And I can’t relate to that at all.” Jesse shook his head. “If I can be half as good as my folks, I’ll be doing alright.”
Not wanting to talk about my parents, I shifted the conversation back. “This all makes me so sad. I like Cooper.”
His gaze roamed to my face, eyes curious. “What about him?”
I shrugged, locking up my favorite thing about Cooper since he’d sworn me to secrecy. “He has a bad boy front, but I don’t think that’s who he is on the inside. And his obnoxious side remarks make me laugh.”
That made Jesse chuckle. But he sobered quickly, his gaze falling to the floor again as his cheek rolled. “I haven’t been as kind to him as I could be.”
I hummed, saying nothing.
“It’s hard to remember in the moment that everyone has a beginning.”
I frowned. “What do you mean?”
“You know…” He waved his hand in a circle. “Everyone is a product of their experience, their childhood, their pain. Not saying our pasts excuse bad behavior, but we should have mercy on people and give them the benefit of the doubt as much as we can. I haven’t been good at that with Cooper.”
I wasn’t sure why a lump rose to my throat at his confession. But I glanced away, pretending to be interested in a hideous painting on the wall. “We—could all be better at that.”
A few beats of silence passed as the girls giggled at something Cade said. My gaze found the three of them, noting the way they’d bonded like peas in a pod this morning.
Jesse’s soft voice interrupted my thoughts. “Hollie.” His brow furrowed, eyes serious. “I haven’t been good at that with you either.”
My mind raced, trying to catch up with the turn in our conversation.
“My conscience has been torturing me for days over the way I lashed out at you. Regardless of whether you were lying or telling the truth, there’s no excuse for the way I spoke to you.”
His words completely disarmed me. The last thing I expected was an apology.
Jesse gave a bitter chuckle. “I tell Cade all the time that life is ten percent what happens to you and ninety percent how you react to it. And I massively overreacted, embarrassed myself, and made you feel terrible. I just need you to know that I’m sorry.”
I blinked, trying hard not to gape.
“I don’t expect forgiveness, but I have to ask for it.”
I held my breath and waited for him to say “why didn’t you” or place some variation of the blame on me to soften the blow of his personal responsibility. And I would gladly shoulder some blame to put his guilt at ease, but…he didn’t reconstruct the moment or ask me to acknowledge my shortcomings.
Maybe that was the biggest surprise of all.
He continued, scuffing his boots over the tile. “It kills me that I ruined my chances with you, but I do hope you’ll forgive me and let me have another shot.”
My mind reeled.
Chances? Shot? At what?
Always quick to forgive, I responded. “Of course I forgive you. I wasn’t very kind either, Jesse. I said stuff I shouldn’t have, too.” I braced myself for the conversation to turn against me. Waited for Jesse to reveal that he had used his humility as a means to his real end: my apology.
That’s how men did it.
If Garrett forgave me, he flaunted it. If Garrett apologized, he demanded full restitution, emotional damages instantly soothed. If he admitted his wrongdoing, he expected me to do the same—quickly.
Jesse responded, “I don’t care about that. Whatever you said, I don’t remember it. And, knowing me, I probably deserved it anyway.”
“Well, I am sorry for being snotty. I hope you’ll forgive me, as well.”
Jesse shrugged, a smile pulling into his lips. “Can’t forgive what I can’t even remember.”