46
Gordon had never been so relieved in his life to hear his name.
Not once.
Not when Luke had believed him enough to let him stay on the ranch.
Not when Edye had handed him a key to his own cottage.
Not when Malik had lifted his arms for him the first time, or Nia had claimed him like bossy little girls had the power to do.
None of it came close.
Talia had said his name.
Soft. Broken. Barely there.
But she knew him.
She knew him.
The second her eyes closed again and her body relaxed back into sleep, Gordon broke.
There was no holding it back this time. No swallowing it down. No pretending to be steady because the machines were still beeping and the doctors were still cautious and nothing was guaranteed yet.
She knew him.
A sob tore out of him, rough and unrecognizable. He bowed over the side of her bed, still holding her hand, and cried with a relief so sharp it almost felt like pain.
Edye reached him first.
She wrapped both arms around him from the side, her cheek pressing briefly against his shoulder. “She knows you, sweetheart.”
Gordon nodded, but another sob came before words could.
Luke stepped in behind him, one strong hand settling on the back of Gordon’s neck, the other gripping his shoulder.
“She knows you,” Luke said, voice thick but steady. “Hold onto that.”
Gordon tried.
He tried to breathe through it, but joy had torn him open just as completely as fear had.
For days he had sat beside Talia’s bed, terrified she would wake and look at him like a stranger.
Terrified she would not wake at all. Terrified their last real moment would always be him stepping out of her reach and telling her goodbye.
But she had come back to him.
Not fully.
Not safely yet.
But enough to say his name.
Enough to relax when he told her he was there.
Luke and Edye held onto him until the shaking eased.
When Gordon finally lifted his head, his face was wet, his throat raw, and his chest sore from everything it had been forced to hold.
“I need to do something,” he said.
Edye brushed a hand over his hair. “What?”
Gordon looked down at Talia.
Her face was still bruised. Her body was still broken. Her eyes were closed again, lashes dark against her skin. She looked fragile in a way she would hate, but she was alive.
And she had known him.
“When they release her,” he said, “she can’t go back to Houston alone.”
Luke’s gaze sharpened.
“She can’t,” Gordon repeated. “Even if she wakes up fine, she’s got a broken leg, broken wrist, shoulder injury, head injury. She’ll need help. Maybe a lot of it.”
“She will,” Edye said softly.
“If she doesn’t have family there, she should come back to the ranch until she’s healed.” His hand tightened around Talia’s. “Even if she doesn’t want me forever. Even if she wakes up tomorrow and remembers all the reasons she thought leaving was best. I want to see her through this.”
Edye’s eyes filled.
Luke nodded once. “That’s what I was thinking.”
Gordon looked at him.
Luke’s face held no hesitation. “If she doesn’t have family in Houston who can care for her, the ranch is the best place for her. We have room. We have people. We can get whatever equipment she needs, hire help if needed, arrange therapy, transportation, medical follow-ups.”
Edye straightened, already moving into action. “She can stay in the lavender suite at first if stairs aren’t an issue, but if mobility is too difficult, we’ll put her downstairs. We can rearrange the sitting room near the back hall. It has easy bathroom access.”
“We can add rails,” Luke said. “Temporary ramp if needed.”
“Shower chair,” Edye added. “A hospital bed if the doctor recommends it.”
Gordon swallowed hard.
He had expected to have to argue.
He should have known better.
“She might not agree,” he said.
Edye touched his arm. “Then we’ll help you convince her.”
Luke nodded. “We need information first. What care she’ll need. What her insurance covers.”
“I don’t know how to do all that from here.”
“You stay with her,” Luke said. “We’ll handle what you can’t.”
Gordon looked from Luke to Edye.
The relief almost broke him again.
“Thank you,” he whispered.
Luke squeezed his shoulder. “You don’t have to thank family.”
Family.
The word landed deep.
Edye leaned down and kissed Gordon’s temple the way she sometimes did with Malik when he had cried himself tired. “We’ll be back.”
“Where are you going?”
“To start making calls,” she said. “And to make sure when Talia is ready to leave this hospital, she has somewhere safe to go.”
Luke looked at Talia once more, then back at Gordon. “Call if she wakes again.”
“I will.”
“And eat something.”
Gordon almost smiled. “Elise sent enough food for a family reunion.”
“Then make a dent in it.”
“Yes, sir.”
Luke and Edye left the room, stepping quietly into the hallway, already murmuring plans to each other. Gordon watched them go with an ache in his chest that was not only fear now.
There was gratitude there too.
And hope.
He sat again and took Talia’s hand between both of his.
“You hear that?” he whispered. “They’re already fixing things. You’re in trouble now.”
She slept on.
He waited.
Waiting was easier this time.
Not easy.
Never easy.
But easier.
Because she had said his name.
A few hours later, Talia stirred again.
It began with a small movement of her mouth. Then her fingers twitched in his. Gordon came upright at once, leaning closer.
“Talia?”
Her eyelids fluttered.
“That’s it,” he said softly. “Take your time.”
Her eyes opened a sliver.
He pressed the call button with one hand and kept hold of her with the other.
“I’m here.”
Her gaze moved slowly, unfocused at first, then trying to settle on his face.
“Gordon,” she whispered.
His heart nearly gave out.
“Yeah.” He smiled even though his eyes burned. “That’s me.”
A nurse came in, checked her quickly, asked Talia a few questions. Her name. Whether she knew where she was. Whether she could follow a finger with her eyes. Talia’s answers came slowly, some only murmurs, some more breath than word, but they came.
She stayed awake for almost half an hour.
Thirty minutes of broken words, confused glances, pain, and Gordon telling her again and again that she was safe.
Then sleep pulled her under.
When the doctor came in, Gordon stood beside the bed and listened hard.
“She’s responding,” the doctor said. “That’s a very positive sign.”
“She knew my name.”
“Yes. That’s good.”
“Is she going to be all right?”
The doctor’s expression stayed careful. “We’re encouraged, but she has a long recovery ahead.
Her head injury is still serious. She may have headaches, confusion, fatigue, memory gaps, mood changes.
We’ll continue monitoring for swelling and neurological changes.
Orthopedics will follow her leg and wrist. Her shoulder will need immobilization and therapy. ”
“Long term?”
“It’s too soon to know everything. She may recover well with time and rehabilitation. She may need assistance for weeks or months. We won’t know until she’s more consistently awake and able to participate in evaluation.”
Gordon nodded, forcing himself to take in every word.
Weeks.
Months.
Therapy.
Care.
Assistance.
None of it scared him as much as the thought of losing her.
“What will she need when she leaves?”
“Likely help with mobility, bathing, dressing, medication management, transportation, and follow-up appointments. She may not be able to be alone initially, especially with the head injury.”
“She won’t be alone,” Gordon said.
The doctor looked at him.
Gordon repeated it, steady and certain. “She won’t be alone.”
The doctor nodded. “Good. We’ll have a case manager talk through discharge planning when we get closer.”
After he left, Gordon sat again.
Each time Talia woke, she apologized.
The first time, she barely managed it.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered, tears leaking from the corners of her eyes.
Gordon leaned over her. “No. Don’t.”
“I left you.”
“You were hurt.”
“I was coming back.”
His chest seized.
He went completely still.
Talia’s eyes searched for him through exhaustion and medication and pain. “I was coming back to the ranch. To you.”
Gordon closed his eyes for a second.
Every awful thing he had told himself for three days cracked apart.
“Talia.”
“The tornado…” Her brow pinched. “I tried to get inside. I tried…”
“I know.” He brushed his fingers lightly over her cheek. “Don’t talk about it now.”
“I need you to know.”
“I know now.”
“I love you.”
The words came out weak.
Almost breathless.
But they struck him with more force than any storm.
Gordon stared at her.
Tears slipped down her bruised face. “I love you, and I don’t care about the age difference if you don’t.”
He could not speak.
Not then.
Not while she could barely keep her eyes open. Not while machines surrounded her and pain lived in every part of her body. Not while he had so much to say and no way to say it without overwhelming her.
So he kissed her fingers.
“I hear you,” he whispered.
Her eyes closed again.
The next time she woke, she said it again.
“I’m sorry I left.”
“Rest.”
“I was coming back.”
“I know.”
“I love you.”
He held her hand tighter. “I know.”
She slept.
Again and again, in small pieces, she came back to him. Five minutes. Ten. Twenty. Then longer. Each time she reached for the same truths as if afraid he might not have believed them the first time.
She had been coming back.
She loved him.
The age difference did not matter.
She wanted him.
Gordon carried every word carefully, but he waited.
He waited until she could stay awake for more than a handful of minutes. Waited until her eyes focused more clearly. Waited until the doctor said she could handle a longer conversation if they kept things calm.
It was late afternoon when she managed almost an hour.
Luke and Edye had stepped out to speak with the case manager. The room was quiet except for the monitors and the soft sounds from the hallway.
Talia looked pale and exhausted, but her eyes were clearer.
Gordon sat beside her bed, holding her hand.
She looked at him for a long time.
“You’re mad at me,” she said.
“No.”
“You were.”
“Yes.”
Her mouth trembled. “I deserve that.”
“No, you don’t. But I was hurt.”
“I know.”
“And scared.”
“I know that too.”
He drew in a slow breath. “There’s a lot I need to say.”
She nodded weakly. “Say it.”
He leaned forward, careful not to crowd her. “I don’t want a girlfriend.”
Her brows drew together.
“I don’t want a woman who loves me in private and questions choosing me in public.”
Her eyes filled.
“I don’t want to be your younger mistake. I don’t want to be your cowboy fling. I don’t want to be the man you ran back to because the promotion didn’t taste sweet enough.”
“Gordon…”
“Let me finish.”
She closed her mouth.
He held her gaze, his hand wrapped around hers.
“I want a partner. A wife. A best friend.” His voice roughened, but he kept going. “A woman who stands beside me and tells the truth, even when the truth costs her something.”
A tear slid down her temple into her hair.
“And you are the only person I want in that role.”
Talia’s fingers tightened around his.
Weakly.
Enough.
“I don’t know how to be all that perfectly,” she whispered.
“I’m not asking for perfect.”
“I’m scared.”
“So am I.”
“I might mess it up.”
“I probably will too.”
Her mouth moved like she wanted to smile but did not quite have the strength.
“I choose you,” she said.
Gordon went still.
Talia swallowed, pushing through exhaustion to keep her eyes open. “Fully. Publicly. Ranch, Houston, article, promotion, all of it. I choose you.”
His chest tightened until it hurt.
“And I’m ready,” she said. “For all of it. Partner. Wife. Best friend. The truth. I want it.”
He lowered his head until his forehead rested gently against her hand.
For a moment, he could not breathe.
Then he lifted his face, leaned over her, and kissed her.
Softly.
Carefully.
The lightest brush of his mouth over hers, because she was injured and fragile and still the strongest thing in the room.
When he pulled back, her eyes were shining.
“As soon as you’re released,” he said, “we’ll get married.”
Talia stared at him.
Then, despite everything, she gave a faint laugh. “Excuse me?”
“You heard me.”
“I have a broken leg, Gordon.”
“I know.”
“And a broken wrist.”
“I noticed.”
“And I’m in a hospital bed.”
“Yes.”
“I would at least like to be able to walk down the aisle instead of being pushed in a wheelchair.”
He shook his head. “I don’t want to wait that long to seal the deal.”
Her lips parted, then curved. “Seal the deal?”
“Yes.”
“That is possibly the least romantic proposal ever given beside a hospital bed.”
“It wasn’t the proposal.”
“It wasn’t?”
“No. The proposal will be better.”
“I should hope so.”
“This was me telling you the schedule.”
A weak laugh escaped her, and the sound nearly healed him on the spot.
“You are ridiculous,” she whispered.
“I am serious.”
“I know.” Her smile softened. “Fine.”
His brows lifted. “Fine?”
“We can have a bedside ceremony if you’re determined to be impatient.”
“I am.”
“But when I’m healed, I want a ranch wedding.”
His heart swelled so hard he almost could not hold it.
“At the gazebo?” he asked.
“If Luke and Edye allow it.”
“They will.”
“With flowers.”
“Yes.”
“And music.”
“Yes.”
“And I’m walking.”
Gordon bent closer, smiling for the first time in days without pain breaking through it. “You can walk, dance, stomp on my foot, whatever you want.”
“I might.”
“I’ll deserve it by then.”
“You probably will.”
He kissed her again, gentle and lingering.
When he lifted his head, Talia looked exhausted but peaceful.
“Gordon?”
“Yes?”
“I really was coming back.”
“I know.”
“I love you.”
His throat tightened.
“I love you too.”
Her eyes closed slowly, but this time he did not panic.
He held her hand as she drifted back to sleep, his thumb brushing lightly over her knuckles.
Outside the hospital room, there would be doctors, recovery, calls, arrangements, hard days, painful therapy, and a future neither of them could fully see yet.
But inside that room, Gordon finally had something solid to hold.
Talia had chosen him.
And this time, when she rested, he knew she was not leaving.