Chapter 20 #2
“He’s not dead yet,” Winnie whips back, her usual fierce self out to play. “And he’d better wake up so I can get that money and throw it in his face.” She huffs.
West turns his sturdy back to her with an odd expression.
I cough into my hand. “You and West will make great friends.”
A surgeon approaches us, and I step back, my knees bumping into the row of plastic chairs. “You guys are family.” I give them both a push.
West glares at me. “Don’t be stupid, Lanie.” He grips my wrist tight, pulling me forward. “Didn’t you just hear what McBuffins said?”
The cop down the hall coughs, but it sounds a whole lot like a laugh.
Winnie raises an eyebrow as she looks at me. “You’re right. I do like him.”
The doctor waits until we’re quiet. “It’s good to see you again, West. And I’ve heard about you, Lanie.” He casts a glance down the hall toward Cord’s lawyer.
West folds his arms over his chest in his usual stance. “Like hell it is.”
The doctor nods over his clipboard as though this is something he hears every day.
I mean, it probably is. “Cordell is stable, for now. We can’t be sure if the operations will be successful or not.
That he is still breathing is a testament to his pure determination.
You need to be prepared for big changes if he wakes. ”
Beneath my feet, the floor slants. He’ll wake.
He has to wake. But what if he doesn’t? A hard hand grips my shoulder, keeping me upright.
I don’t need to look over to know who’s propping me up.
The same person I suspect has held Coyote Falls together for many years. The room steadies, or maybe I do.
The surgeon tugs his mask away, crushing it in one hand. Hard eyes fix on West, like the two men have a personal history. “I told you not to let him back on a bull. Or anything that moves. His recovery last time was nothing shy of a miracle, and we will not have the grace of another.”
West’s lips press into a thin, white line. He says nothing.
The surgeon inhales slowly. “Visitation. One at a time. A few minutes each, and that is all. He has come back from worse trauma, but this time—” Deep lines form around his mouth. He glances once more at West and then turns on his heel.
Cord’s lawyer steps away from the new man in the hall. West greets him, too.
“Do you know everyone?” I ask, staring past his shoulder at Cord’s door. The tears I don’t want to come flood my system, prickling the corners of my eyes. I’m too dehydrated for much, but one more tear makes its way along my cheek.
If he wakes.
We all knew the possibilities. Cord planned for them to the minutest detail. His lawyer isn’t done, his gait slow as he approaches us, his expression thoughtful while West turns to me, his own face set.
“This is the officer I called when the bull went down, Lanie. While you were yelling at Jed, I got these guys to clear the remaining area. They took samples from the bull, and hopefully, they have results.”
“You did what? I don’t remember any of that,” I murmur.
“You were exactly where you needed to be, girl. With Cord.” West nudges me.
“I just wanted to be beside him.” I find his hand and cling to him.
No one pulled me away once we arrived at the hospital until orderlies whisked Cord into surgery.
The eyes of every nurse who tended him told the story of why they let me stay.
A minuscule chance said he’d survive, a full recovery improbable, even now.
My heart beats frantically in my chest, so loud I almost miss the police officer’s initial report.
“The bull’s blood shows traces of the tranquilizer xylazine. Enough to fell, well, a bull.” The police officer, slightly chubby and middle-aged, huffs a laugh.
I blink at him. No one else moves.
He clears his throat, refocusing on his notes. “Right. So the investigation will handle anyone who came into contact with the bull, moved it, or anything else.” He glances around expectantly.
West swears softly. “Billy, that’s you and me. Lanie didn’t get back to the ranch with Cord until after we set up everything, moved the bulls to Valiant Peak.”
“You’ll need to come down to the station to make a statement.” The cop scratches something on his pad while West glowers at him.
I detangle our hands and give him a gentle push. “Go find out what’s happened. I’ll be here, with Winnie. We’re not going anywhere.” We won’t leave him alone. I promise.
Winnie shakes her head. “Nope. Not leaving.” She plants her butt and looks up at him, defiance displayed across her face.
West’s lips twitch. “I’ll see you two soon, then.” He collects his hat, leaning in to kiss my cheek. “Make sure she doesn’t do anything crazy.”
“I won’t,” Winnie and I chorus.
West stares at both of us through narrowed eyes, dragging Billy away with him.
Winnie looks at me sideways.
“He was talking to me,” I get out first.
“Oh, hell, no. He was talking to me.” She grins, and I see my friend again for the first time since she walked into the hospital.
Winnie’s hand knots in mine. We wait. After a while, Winnie curls up against me, resting her head on my shoulder, and naps.
The hours I’ve already spent in the hallway skew my outlook of time.
The only indication I have of day or night are the quiet hours when the fewer medical staff don’t rush about as much.
The last nurse of the shift slips out of Cord’s room with a wave.
I nod sleepily into Winnie’s hair, hoping it hides my intent.
When the nurse’s footsteps fade along the corridor, I slip out from under Winnie’s weight and she shifts to lean her head back on the wall above her plastic chair.
I head into Cord’s room, knowing my visit will exceed my scant allocated minutes.
I walk toward his bed, barely breathing. Bandages cover most of his head. Drips, tubes, and other medical paraphernalia dangle from him, attached to more screens than it takes to run NASA, it seems.
A single, padded chair is tucked away into one corner.
I lift the thing, which turns out to be heavier than I expected, and lug it across the room, planting it next to his bed.
There’s enough room for me to curl into its seat.
Pressing the tips of my fingers to the back of his hand, I begin to talk.
Everything—from what I love about Coyote Falls to how much of an asshole he’s been—pours out.
How I appreciate him cleaning my wolf blanket to what a pompous but efficient man his lawyer is.
Winnie’s reaction. West. How I’ve canceled Alaska.
That Billy and West are off investigating the bull incident.
How he made his eight-second bell and won the bet with Jed.
That Coyote Falls is his.
When I run out of words, though my voice croaks over each one painfully, I start from the top. By the time light slants through Cord’s single window, the nurses are used to me, despite defying the doctor’s orders of short visitations.
Like Cord, I don’t care about the rules anymore. Right now, they have no meaning. Only the man in front of me matters, and bringing him home. I never stop talking, adding the surgeon to the list for my next pass.
I press my cheek to the chair’s plastic frame. At this point, I’m almost certain the shape will leave a permanent imprint. The discomfort keeps me awake most of the time, and I refuse to stop, not even when West arrives and pokes me in an attempt to feed me. I shoo him away, too.
A nurse checks Cord’s vitals, hanging around longer than usual.
“Is something wrong?” I stifle a yawn. My throat clogs, thick with sleep and chatting constantly.
When did I drift off? My heart starts to hammer in my chest as I rouse.
What if he woke but fell back to sleep because he thought I left?
What if he took a last breath and left this world for good while I was sleeping?
“I’m not sure,” she murmurs, wandering out the door, still writing on her clipboard.
“Dammit, Cord. I only dozed for a minute.” I blink gritty eyes that refuse to focus. The brightening sunlight seems to fulfill a function my mind refuses to grasp after being in the dark for so long.
“It only takes a minute, wolf girl.”
Cord’s voice rasps thin and soft, but it’s there.
My head jerks as I stare at him. Tears run unchecked down my cheeks, my body functioning just fine before my brain checks in for the morning.
“You’re awake,” I manage, heart ratcheting up somewhere in the realm of my throat.
His eyes lined with red but open and fixed on me, Cord offers a weak smile.