30. Christian
CHRISTIAN
S irens screamed as we floored it to the hospital. The back of the ambulance jostled, shaking the containers of supplies.
I tried to sit still and stay out of the way, but it was an impossible feat. We were crammed in like sardines. Two medics worked on Ray, monitoring his vitals, checking and double-checking the breathing tube down his throat. His vest was back at the arena, and his shirt had been cut up the front.
His black and blue abdomen was streaked by patches of skin colored in by washable markers. I held his hand, careful of the pulse oximeter on his finger, but it felt like holding a corpse.
Patches with wire leads were placed on his chest and hooked into a monitor.
The neck brace and straps held him still as we came to a skidding halt at the emergency room doors.
I followed the paramedics in, keeping a hand on Ray as he was rushed in and evaluated.
Then all I could do was wait.
The entrance to the waiting room flew open as my family piled in.
“Where is he?” My mom was shaking, hanging on to my dad like her life depended on it.
I took my hat off and dug my fingers into my hair. “He’s in surgery. I don’t know anything yet. They were talking about broken ribs. Possible internal bleeding.”
Her weathered hands trembled as she cupped them over her mouth. “H-He wasn’t m-moving.”
There was no use sugarcoating it. She knew the reality of the situation as well as I did. “He landed on his head. Even if…” I choked up and couldn’t get the words out quite right. “Even if he wakes up…”
“Christian—” Becks ran in with Nate behind her, carrying a car seat.
CJ was next, arriving with Marty, Ray’s manager.
Where was Cassandra?
I repeated the spiel I gave my mom to the rest of the crew. Marty stepped away and started making calls. Becks and momma hugged. CJ took a seat in the corner with my dad, saying nothing at all.
Which left Nate.
“This isn’t on you.”
“I know it’s not,” I clipped, just a little irritated that he would make that comment. I started to pace. “I didn’t tell him to get in the ring. I didn’t tell him to be a fucking bull rider. In fact, I told him the opposite quite a few times. I didn’t?—”
“You didn’t tell Gretchen to go through that intersection.
You didn’t tell the clouds to stop raining for two years.
You didn’t tell the herd to get sick. You didn’t tell me to join the Army,” Nate said.
His mottled, scarred hand curled and stretched.
“You didn’t tell me to walk up to a suicide bomber, and yet you still blame yourself for not stopping it. ”
I froze mid-stride.
“Where’s Cass?” I snapped. “And the girls.”
Nate shrugged. “I dunno. They were out of the arena before we got out.” He put a hand on my arm. “You gotta chill out. This is not your fault. You can’t control everything. Don’t make it about you.”
With that, he went over to Becks and sat down.
Irritation sprang up my back, eating at me from the inside. I checked my phone. No calls.
I punched in her number, walked over to the empty half of the waiting room, and waited.
“Hey, Daddy.” But it wasn’t my kids answering the phone. It was Cass.
The sound of her steady voice was a balm. I let out a sharp breath. My blood pressure lowered at the sound of her voice. “What are you doing answering the phone like that? Where are you?”
Cassandra laughed softly. “It’s your fault. You put yourself in my phone as ‘Cowboy Daddy.’”
I slumped against the Coke machine and squeezed my forehead. That day felt like forever ago. “I forgot.”
She was never one to beat around the bush, and got right to it. “How’s Ray? How are you?”
“He—uh… Are the girls around?”
“They’re out of earshot,” she clipped.
“He’s in surgery. Between us, I don’t know if…” Shit. My eyes burned as heat and salt clouded my vision. I sucked in a sharp breath and tried to let it out, but I couldn’t. “I don’t know if he’s gonna wake up, Cass,” I choked out. “He might not make it.”
Tears streamed down my face and soaked my beard as I cried.
Cassandra was quiet. All that passed between us was the reassuring sound of her breathing.
I hunched over and braced my hands on my knees, letting out a long exhale. “Where are you at? Are the girls okay?”
“They’re fine. Don’t worry about us,” she said. “I’m at the burger place across the street from the hospital. I figured it would give you a chance to get settled before I bring them into the chaos.”
The burn in my lungs fizzled away. “How… How’d you get the truck out of the lot?”
Her laugh was music to my ears. “Bree helped me.”
“I’m sorry. It sounded like you just said my thirteen-year-old helped you drive.”
“Not like that.” Her words were soft and reassuring. “She sat up front with me and explained how to use a clutch and shift gears. I only ran over one or two cars.”
I chuckled at her sarcasm. “Are the girls okay?”
“They’re worried about Ray,” she said honestly. “But like I told you, I’ve got it. I don’t want you to worry about us.”
“Come on over when the girls are ready. We’re in the waiting room. It could be a while.”
We said our goodbyes and I hung up.
Half an hour later, Cassandra, Bree, and Gracie walked through the doors, carrying grease-soaked bags of burgers and fries for the family. Bree and Gracie curled up in the chairs beside my parents, looking only a little worse for the wear.
“Hey, cowboy. I brought you a?—”
I grabbed the front of her shirt and slammed her mouth to mine, kissing her hard and deep. It was wholly inappropriate for a hospital waiting room, but I needed her. I needed to feel her. I needed to know that she was safe.
“You’ve been pacing,” Cassandra said when she pulled back, lips full and swollen from the pressure of the moment.
I frowned. “How do you know I’ve been pacing?”
“Because there’s nowhere for you to escape. There’s no horse to ride to clear your head. There’s no machinery for you to tinker with.” She wrapped her arms around my neck and raked her fingers through my hair. “Sit down.”
“I’ll just get antsy and start pacing again,” I admitted.
“Sit, Christian.” She pushed the burger bag into my hand. “Eat.”
“Cass—”
“I’m not asking.”
And for some reason, I was okay with not being in charge for once.
Cassandra sat beside me as I unwrapped the burger and took a few bites. I knew I needed to eat, but my appetite had vanished.
My leg started bouncing as all those “what ifs” came rushing back. I started picking at a spot on my jeans. Every time the doors opened, I whipped around to see if it was someone coming to give us an update about Ray.
Hours passed with no news. With each loop of the clock, my legs jittered harder and harder.
“Come on,” Cassandra said, taking my hand.
I pulled my gaze away from the doors. “Where?”
“If you’re going to pace, then I’m going to pace with you.”
Cassandra linked our fingers together, not caring that my family was watching as she led me away and started a loop around a section of chairs.
“Talk to me, cowboy.”
I gave her hand a squeeze, but I didn’t know where to start.
“When I first started going to a therapist, I couldn’t sit down,” I admitted.
“After Gretchen died?” she asked.
I shook my head. “Before that. I, uh… I started going after Nate got hurt overseas.”
She bumped my arm with her head. “Wanna tell me about it?”
I swallowed, reliving the moment we found out what had happened.
“Nate… He, uh—he was deployed in Iraq and was caught in an attack by a suicide bomber. One of his guys was killed. He was injured and airlifted out to an Army hospital in Germany. At the time, he was married to this woman named Vanessa. She got the notification that he had been injured and came out of the house screaming. Terrified. I was coming up from the pasture with my dad. I saw her from a distance and caught up to her. You know what it’s like living that close to each other.
You hear everything. Gretchen was pregnant with Gracie, and Bree was a toddler.
Gretchen came out of the house to see what the ruckus was about, and Vanessa lost it.
She was hysterical. It took me, Gretchen, and my parents to calm her down, all while we were wondering if he was alive or not. ”
Cassandra squeezed my hand. “I can’t imagine coping with that.”
“I wasn’t sleeping. I’d work all day, then work some more. But after Nate was brought home, it didn’t get better. Gretchen passed away. Nate and Vanessa separated. He got deployed again. They divorced. And I…”
She looked up, waiting for me to bring myself to say it.
“I blamed myself.” I stroked my hand down my beard. “I blamed myself for all of it. I would lie awake at night, wondering if I could have done something that would have made him stay and work on the ranch rather than joining the Army.”
“But it’s also where he met Becks, right?”
I nodded. “Gretchen’s accident happened not long after Nate came home.
I was finally starting to let go of some of that guilt.
Gracie was born. Then Gretchen was taken away from me.
I blamed myself for that too. I’d pace the house, in the middle of the night, trying to get Gracie to stop crying, and wonder why I hadn’t gone to get the groceries for her. And now?—”
Cassandra stopped me in the middle of our loop and pressed her hands to my cheeks. “I need you to hear me. It’s not your fault.”
I held on to her wrists, keeping her hands there. Cassandra’s touch felt good. “That’s easier to say than to live with.”
“I know that.” Her gray eyes were boulders, steady and strong.
“What matters most is that you keep showing up and stepping up for your family, no matter what the circumstance is. You’re strong and reliable.
You’re steady. You’re loyal and resilient.
” She stepped onto the steel toes of my boots and pressed her lips to mine.
“But one thing you are not, is guilty. You’re the one everyone runs to for safety. ”
I pressed my forehead against hers. “Thank you, Cass.”
Her breath hitched. “And…”
I waited.