Chapter Thirty-One
SLOANE
THE DULL pain in my leg and hand wakes me up throughout the night, and no matter how hard I try to relax, I can’t stay asleep. When the lights come on, people quickly get up from their cots and move to the doors like a wave.
The smell of eggs and bacon hangs heavy in the air and my mouth starts to water, unsticking my tongue from the roof of my mouth.
Attempting to slide my leg to the edge of the cot only sends sharp pains up my thigh so I decide to lay still for another minute. Even with the big plastic brace they put on my leg, it still hurts when I use those muscles.
I don’t know how long I lie there before I hear a familiar voice, “Sloane, honey, is that you?”
Opening my eyes, I see Opal bending over my head, she’s upside down, but her warm voice opens the floodgates, and the tears start to stream over my temples. She walks around my cot to sit next to me and pulls me into her arms, she rocks me as I cry into her shoulder.
“It’s okay, honey. Get it out.” She gently pulls my hair from my face and strokes my head like my mom would have, which makes me cry even harder.
After several minutes, she says, “Honey, why are you here? Mr. Harlow will be angry that you are not in your warm bed at the ranch.”
Opal’s warmth melts the walls I spent most of the night building in my anger and heartbreak and I spill everything. I start at the day my brother sold me and when I get to the part about Mason leaving me at the hospital, I’m sobbing again.
“Oh, honey, I’ve known Mason Harlow since right after his mama died, and I know that boy didn’t leave you there.” She puts her hands on my shoulders and moves so that she can look into my eyes, “I’d bet two dozen donuts he went out and took care of those men that hurt you.”
Oh.
I sniff and pull my eyebrows down, “But the nurses, they said he couldn’t wait to leave. He didn’t leave a note or a message or anything. I thought maybe he thought I was too dangerous for his family or he’s just not ready to be a father.”
It’s her turn to pull her eyebrows down and her voice is sharp, “Honey, you are family. I know the Harlow family like the back of my hand and if you’re carrying his child, you’re already considered part of the family by all of them, and I know they’re looking for you.”
My chin starts to wobble, and more tears run down my cheeks. I feel like a damn ping pong ball, one day I’m not wanted and the next I am.
She pulls me into a hug again, “It’s okay, honey, let’s get you some breakfast and you’ll feel better with some food on your stomach. Don’t forget you’re eating for two now.”
Opal may be slim, but everything about her is warm and soft and I let her hold me against her shoulder. I never got to meet my grandparents before they died, and I imagine this is what it would feel like to hug one of them. “Opal? Why are you here?”
She keeps rocking me like I’m a child with a skinned knee, “I volunteer here a few days a week, it’s something to do when the grandkids are in school, and my daughter needs the house quiet so she can work.
I don’t say anything, and she slides her hand down the back of my head and pats my back, “Come on, let’s go get you some breakfast.”
My voice is muffled in her now wet shirt, “Can I just stay here for a little longer? My leg hurts too much to move.”
She grabs an unused pillow from the empty cot next to me and puts it on top of the pillow I tried to sleep on last night before helping me lay back down, “You stay here, and I’ll get you a plate.”
It takes her nearly thirty minutes to come back to me, and even though the bacon looks like it’s been microwaved, the toast is cold, and the eggs look rubbery, I don’t care. I’m too hungry to care.
It takes me about five minutes to clean my plate. She was right, I do feel better with something on my stomach. I look around for Opal, but there’s no one to be seen in the room. I set the plate on the floor and start to slowly move my legs over the edge so I can go pee.
Just as I set my feet on the floor, I hear Mason bellow, “Sloane!” and then I hear shushing from the front desk area and whispered arguing.
My heart pitter-patters in my chest as I look toward the still-open double doors, “Mason?” He doesn’t hear me, the arguing with someone in the front is going from a whisper to a low growl, so I try again, but louder, “Mason.”
The arguing stops and I hear heavy footfalls in the hall right before Mason rushes into the room looking all around before his eyes fall on me. He looks like he hasn’t slept in days.
He starts to jog across the room and when he gets a few feet away from me I hold my hand up, “Stop.”
His boots squeak on the floor as he stops, he blinks and his eyebrows squish together. After a moment of me staring at him, he holds his hands out, “Sloane?”
Rolling my lips between my teeth to stop my chin from shaking, I stare at the big, gorgeous man in front of me, “The nurses said you weren’t happy when you found out about the baby, they said you couldn’t wait to leave.”
He starts to shake his head while I’m talking and I hold my hand up higher so I can finish, “If this isn’t what you want, that’s fine, but I need to know the truth, Mason.”
Taking a step toward me, he lowers himself on one knee and puts his one hand over his heart, “I already knew about the baby before we went to the hospital, I swear, so whatever the nurses said is not true. Kinley told me about the pregnancy test when we realized you were gone, which we are going to have a stern conversation about, by the way.” Anger flashes in his eyes and he points his finger in my direction.
“I was in a hurry to leave the hospital because I had a shrinking window of time to take care of the fuckers who took you before they knew I was coming. I told a nurse to tell you I was coming back but, obviously, that didn’t happen.
His face softens again, “But, darlin’, think about how you felt when you realized you were pregnant, you have to let me catch up with you. I’ve been through the fucking shock of it and questioned whether I’ll be a shit father or not. Now, the little nugget is growing on me.”
Some of my anger melts away as his blue eyes watch me closely, he’s respecting my space and waiting for me to put my hand down.
I can see the worry in his eyes and a little bit of guilt edges its way in, making my heart lodge into my throat and tears line my eyes.
“I didn’t think you were coming back.” My voice is thick and I’m trying to swallow the lump down.
He shakes his head again, “There is nothing and no one that could keep me from coming back to you.”
He tilts his head, his eyes soft with affection, “Darlin’, will you put your hand down? Please. I would really like to touch you; I need to feel you with my own hands.”
My chin starts to shake anyway, and a tear escapes, leaving a wet trail down my cheek.
I let my hand drop to the bed. It only takes a second and one step for him to drop to his knees in front of me looking me up and down like he is taking inventory of every wound, and then gently pulls me into him.
“I was so worried; I couldn’t find you anywhere. ” He says into my hair on my neck.
Fisting his coat on his back, I let my eyes slide closed as I tuck my cold nose into the warm skin on his neck and take a deep breath. I nod and mumble, “I’m sorry, I thought you left me.”
He shakes his head, his arms are like steel bands around my shoulders, “It’s my fault, I should have made sure you knew I was coming back.
” He grips my shoulders and moves back so he can look me in the eyes, his face is hard as stone, “Let’s get something straight right now, I will never not come back for you. ”
“I was worried that you would think I tried to trap you, I could have swore we used a condom every time, but then I remembered the shower.”
“The shower.” He says it at the same time as me. “What’s done is done, darlin’, but to be honest, I’m not sorry. Are you?”
I start to shake my head, “Really? You want this?”
He gently slides his palms across my temples and cups my head, his gaze moving over my face, he winces when he looks at the bruised and swollen side of my face and slides his thumb across my lip, “I do. I will always be here, for both of you, no matter what. What I hold dearest to me is right here.”
If my heart could grow wings and fly, it would right at this moment. A small sob breaks from my throat, and he pulls me in for another hug and holds me as he sets his chin on my head.
“Come on, darlin’, let’s get you home. Grab your crutches.” He whispers in my ear.
Reaching behind me to get my crutches off the bed, I think he’s going to help me stand but he puts his arm behind my legs and scoops me up. “I can walk with the crutches.” They are hanging from my hand behind him, and I grab his shoulder with my other hand.
“Opal said you’re hurting, so you won’t be walking on your own today.”
He carries me across the room like I weigh no more than a sack of beans, his eyes focused on the path in front of him. I lay my head on his shoulder and slide my hand around to squeeze the nape of his neck, he rests his cheek on top of my head.
“There she is.” Mr. Harlow’s scratchy voice has me lifting my head back up to look around until I find him. He walks toward us, “You okay, sweetheart?”
I nod, “I’m okay.”
“Good. Opal has agreed to come stay for a while since you’ll be in bed for a week or two.” He says, slipping his hands into his front jeans’ pockets.
“I won’t need that long, Mr. Harlow, I’ll be back up as soon as I can.”
He laughs and holds his hand up like he’s asking me to wait a minute, “Opal is coming to help until we can get someone to take your place, and when you feel better you can let me know what you want to do.”
“But I love taking care of everyone, I don’t want to leave the ranch.”
Mason laughs, “You’re not going anywhere, you’re staying with me.” He kisses my temple as I look between him and Mr. Harlow, and he walks me to his truck.
***