Cowboy on the Run (21 page)

Jessie had known better than to trust him or think he had changed. He was still the same—a leopard didn’t change its spots. When it came to the man, her head told her no. Why didn’t she listen? Her heart was always wrong.

“It’s my fault. I told him to go, Jess. I told him we could take care of the boys...of you,” William admitted.

She heard the feet of his chair skid across the hard wood floor as he came to her side. There were more words. Perhaps they were comforting. At this point, she wasn’t sure, hearing the noise fade in and out.

“I don’t think Nate wanted to go. In fact, he was real tore up about it. Said he’d come back as soon as he could,” William continued, but it no longer mattered.

Nate was gone.

And again he had left a gaping hole where her heart should have been. She was a fool to think her love could keep him. Or even sex for that matter. Her new resolution coming just in time. Ironically, she had chosen both...she’d given her all and he’d walked away.

Nate wasn’t just gone...he was long gone. Stupid...she was such a fool! And she had talked herself into believing they actually had a chance!

Jessie handed her daughter over to Rosita with deadened senses. Her legs refused to move, but, needing a moment to herself, she forced the retreat. Jade and Gage might be devastated now, but they were young; time would heal their wounds.

Hers, however, were a different story.

Making her way into the barn, she started the tractor, determined to throw herself into work. It had helped before, adding more blocks to a wall already close to invincible.

Chapter 25

Nate revved up the bike’s engine. This was normal. He was born to run. After nearly five hours on the road, his head was starting to clear. The endless highway, the sound of tires slapping pavement. This was what he was accustomed to. Life on the road. Alone.

He went over his conversation with Sandy for the fiftieth time, dissecting bits and pieces of the frantic phone call. How could Doyle be in the hospital? She said he’d been breaking in a rogue horse when the animal bucked him off, headfirst. So severe, he was in a coma, and the doctors weren’t convinced such a traumatic blow to the head wouldn’t cause further complications. Assuming, of course, he even came out of the coma.

According to Sandy, the hospital was doing their best. Their best? Was their best good enough? Not when it came to his friend.

He struggled with the guilt overloading his brain...his responsibilities to the boys...to his kids...to Jessie. But Doyle meant just as much to him. Hell, the man was more of a father than his own had ever been.

The need, the itch to run had resurfaced, hitting him harder than ever before this time. His thoughts directed back to Jessie, and Nate gunned the engine as if more speed would erase his blameworthy departure. Hadn’t he earned this? Hadn’t he merited the right to join the other lost souls who had done their time on this stretch of pavement?

What he didn’t deserve, however, was Jessie or her trust. Or the love he saw in her eyes. A pang of guilt pierced his chest. He’d seen the unguarded emotion. It was only for a moment, replaced with a veil of uncertainty and doubt. The worst part was, she was right.

He hadn’t gained her faith, her belief in him, not yet, not with all the damage he’d left in his wake. Twice now.

He was a runner. She knew it. She couldn’t trust him with her heart. He’d seen that clear as day. And when she needed some kind of reassurance, Nate hadn’t been able to give it to her. Maybe she
was
right. Maybe he wasn’t meant to stay.

Proving it, he pushed the bike, the speedometer hitting eighty.

She would never be able to trust him. Never. Hadn’t her leaving before he woke been proof enough? He cursed himself for contemplating marriage. What kind of union could they have without trust?

Yet, she
had
trusted him. For one split second, she had been completely invested. The memory of her at the creek clouded his vision. Soft and vulnerable, her hard edge gone.

To him, she’d never been more beautiful. The silky, smooth feel of her body, the erotic, enticing floral smell of her skin. Those intense green eyes of hers, hazy with passion, her lips parted with desire. He remembered it all. What they shared had been incredible. Words certainly did little justice to describe the electric heat shared between them.

But she would never trust him.

Nate pushed the thought out of his head along with his other memories, fighting the resilient images imprinted in his brain, which refused to go away.

He neared his exit, hesitating before he turned right off the highway. He could just keep driving and ignore the persistent pictures of Jessie and the kids.

Guilt slammed him in the stomach and he headed the direct route to the hospital, fighting the strong urge to do a U-turn and head back onto the open road.

No, he wouldn’t run any longer. Not from his kids or the woman he loved. And not from the brutal reality Doyle might not make it. He pulled into the hospital parking lot, angry at himself for even toying with the idea. He had more people counting on him now than ever before, and he didn’t plan on letting any of them down. Not again.

The sterile, bleach smell of the hospital hit him full force, as did the blinding, bright lights, even through the dark brown tint of his sunglasses. The receptionist, a bubbly blonde in her early twenties pointed him in the direction of Doyle’s room.

Walking down the maze of hallways, he tried to prepare himself for what he might see, his imagination working overtime. So far, he expected the worst, prayed for a miracle.

The worst was mild compared to what he saw.

Tucked in a hospital bed, his friend, frail and weak, was quite a contrast to the man he knew. Underneath the well-lit room, his face was a nondescript, pasty white color. His eyes, once so full of life, stared blankly at the ceiling before shutting again.

There were wires everywhere, all of which came out of Doyle at one part of his body or another. Two nurses checked a loud beeping machine above his head, and he heard the one mention a feeding tube.

“He looks good,” Sandy said, her voice cutting through his thoughts.

Nate turned to find her beside him. She brushed an unkempt wave of hair off of his forehead, and he tucked her into his arms. She hugged him back, tight, before letting her arms drop and stepping away.

“Now, he does anyway. The doc even said he was responsive.” Sandy shrugged. “Whatever that means. But we still aren’t out of the woods.” She released a non-humorous chuckle. “Right now, though, you look worse than he does.”

The sound of laughter rattled out of her chest like dry paper rolled into a ball. Dark, shadowed circles highlighted her swollen eyes. She’d obviously been crying. Appeared as if she hadn’t eaten either. Yet, true to her nature, she was still trying to take care of him.

“C’mon, I’ll buy you a cup of coffee,” Sandy said, slipping her arm through his. “I’m so glad you’re here.”

He swallowed hard, taken aback by the impact her words had on him. Nate shook his head. “No, I’ll buy
you
a cup of coffee, and it looks like you could use a sandwich, or two.” He poked a finger at her side, causing the animated woman he remembered to release a girlish giggle. “How do you feel about hospital food?”

Sandy grimaced. When she stole a glance at Doyle, her demeanor changed in an instant. “It doesn’t seem right. Me eating and him...”

She shook her head and Nate caught on to her hesitation. The discussion of a feeding tube swam through his memory. He thought about mentioning it to her, but stopped himself, not knowing if the tube was worse than whatever way they had been feeding him up until now.

Instead, he nodded his head in complete understanding and guided her out of the room. “Well, a girl still needs to eat. Besides, we both know Doyle likes his women with a little meat on their bones,” he said, encouraging her.

“
Woman
,” she retorted with her trademark sass, and for a moment, the old Sandy reappeared again. “Doyle likes his
woman
with a little meat on her bones.” She smiled, although the effort failed to light up her brown eyes.

Nate led Sandy to the cafeteria, sat her at a table and returned a few minutes later with a couple of sandwiches and two fountain drinks.

“I got you ham and cheese. Or you can have turkey, your choice.” He placed both sandwiches in front of her.

She reached for the ham and cheese, toying with the sandwich, much more interested with the plastic wrapper than the actual content it covered.

He watched with concern, biting his tongue, until she took a bite out of the bread, then he followed her lead, forcing himself to gulp down the bone-dry meal.

“I don’t know what I’m going to do,” she whispered.

He’d had to lean in to hear her words. Questioning her admittance, he felt one of his eyebrows tug upward. “Do?”

“I don’t know how I’m going to run the ranch and stay here at the same time. I don’t want to leave his side. What if he wakes up and I’m not here?” she asked, tears welling up in her eyes. Sandy put the sandwich down and fingered the plastic wrap again before pushing it to the side.

Nate reached out and took hold of her hand. “Don’t worry. You don’t have to do anything. I’ll take care of it, okay? You just stay here and take care of Doyle. Leave everything at the Corral for me to handle. Got it?” When a heavy breath escaped her, Nate added, “It will be all right. You know how tough Doyle is. Hell, he’s probably in his room right now, demanding they let him get out of bed.”

She smiled slightly and squeezed his fingers.

“So, how about I walk you back to the room, and then go check on the home front? I’ll bet those boys of yours have got the place torn to shreds by now,” Nate teased. He stood and helped her to her feet.

“Lord, I hope not,” she stated with a halfhearted giggle. “But you’re probably right.”

Nate walked with her back to Doyle’s room in silence. He left her at the door of her husband’s room, not ready to go into the space again, not sure if he could stand to see his friend the way he had seen him earlier.

She seemed to understand and kissed him on the cheek before saying goodbye.

He hurried through the halls, unable to leave the confinement fast enough. The sterile whiteness of the walls made him sick. A fleeting image of his mother, weak and unresponsive, flashed from memory, and he held back a wave of nausea. The recollection seemed as vivid now as it had been the day she died in a hospital not so unlike this one. Passing the blonde receptionist without so much as a toss of his head, he ignored the upbeat, “Have a nice day,” following him out of the sliding glass doors.

Once outside, he sucked in a deep breath of air. Allowing himself a moment, Nate tucked away the memories of his mother he rarely allowed to surface, then he headed toward the O-K Corral, a little worried about what he might find.

What he’d made as a joke to Sandy could very well be the truth, considering the boys had been on their own since yesterday, with only one or two counselors to chaperone them. It could be complete chaos or an uncanny kind of calm. Whatever faced him, looked like he would be bunking down for a couple of weeks.

Chapter 26

“Who are you calling sport? Girls are called princesses,” Jade said with a giggle.

Jessie shook her head, smiling at her daughter’s antics as the little hand held the large receiver of the phone up to her ear while keeping her brother at arm’s distance.

“No. Gage is outside. He’s feeding something. ‘Sides I’m not done talking to you yet.” The impetuous child laughed again.

Her brother, having no more patience for her games, tore the phone out of her grip. “I’m not outside,” he shouted into the receiver. He stuck his tongue out at Jade. Standing a proud inch taller than his sister, he was able to keep the phone out of her reach.

Jessie stifled a giggle, enjoying the open display of sibling rivalry.

“No, I’m not feeding anything. Jade’s a liar. Mom?” Gage spared a glance at her.

She knew Nate was asking about her. Again. A stab of emotions shot through her. He had called every day for the last four weeks now. Stubbornly, she’d kept to her reserves, refusing to talk to him.

Jessie shook her head. It was hard to believe a month had gone by. A long, painful month. She kept telling herself life without Nate was for the best, and that was what she focused on as she heard Gage tell him she didn’t want to talk yet. At least he had stayed in contact with the children. However, it did little for her spirits. With each passing day, she became more distant, living her life in a fog, despite trying to convince herself it was a good thing he was gone.

Her heart was safe now.

Yet her heart felt anything but safe. Her heart was broken. She’d been a fool to think he could change.

****

Nate pulled up to the front door of the hospital just in time for Sandy to wheel Doyle out in a wheelchair. His friend’s complaints were so loud he could hear it through the open driver’s side window. He smiled, welcoming the sound, like magic to his ears.

To think how close they’d come to losing the man was unbearable. Struggling, Sandy steered the oversized wheelchair toward the bus. He opened the door of the vehicle and jumped out to give her a hand.

“You’ve got to be kidding me, Sandy,” Doyle growled.

“Didn’t you hear the nurse, you old goat? No release without aid of the wheelchair to the car.”

Her response was like pouring gasoline on a fire, and it was hard not to see Doyle’s irritation escalate the moment he saw the Corral’s bus.

“The bus? You picked me up in the bus? It isn’t bad enough I can’t walk out of this place on my own two feet, but you had to bring that enormous eye sore?”

Nate laughed at the pair, taking over the handles of the wheelchair from Sandy. His friend did look pretty idiotic in the ride, his six foot frame making his legs stick out at odd angles. Although, he figured the complaints had little to do with the wheelchair or even the bus. Knowing his friend’s independent nature, the loud protests were more about having to rely on someone else for aide.