“You’re hurt,” I bite out. “I’m the one who…should be carrying you.” Angry tears sting my eyes.
“You’ve carried me plenty.” Her firm, confident tone makes my vision blur and my chest feel too tight. “It’s my turn.”
I choke out a sob as my bottled-up emotions turn raw and raggedinside me. Maybe I’m a mess right now, but I’m so fucking proud of her. So grateful I’ve had the honor of being her dad. I need to tell her this. Before I can’t. Before it’s too late.
High beams and spinning red lights wash through the forest. A tunnel of light melting away the darkness, heading for us. The woods start to spin. Gritting my teeth, I fight to stay present, focusing on the high beams illuminating the silver streaks of rain, but my feet grow heavier and my exhaustion is so thick, I might as well be dragging an anchor with every step.
The ambulance stops and there’s a lot of shouting and movement. I’m placed on a stretcher, the rain like cold needles on my face as I’m whisked into the back of the warm and very bright rig. William appears, his face tense while he unpacks supplies and barks out commands.
I don’t see Linnea or CJ, but I can hear them. And I can hear the little girl, Daisy.
When I saw her running from the farmhouse, I didn’t think. I sprinted to grab her. And if I hadn’t, would that bullet have hit her instead?
Where’s your sister? The one with you in the window?
She told me to be brave. She told me to run.
CJ climbs into the driver’s seat so Hutch can help William, their forms a blur beneath the bright lighting while they get to work, talking in rapid-fire acronyms I can’t make sense of. William slices off my pants and rips open giant packages of gauze while Hutch starts an IV and pushes meds. They bark numbers that I should recognize, but they whip past my fuzzy brain. Will starts volleying with someone over the radio.
Hypovolemic shock. I’m not finding an exit wound. BP is dropping.
I try to stay awake, but the pain starts to dial back and I’m warming up.
Linnea is talking softly from somewhere beyond the blur of Willand Hutch. Her hand curls around mine. I do my best to grip it tight.
I slipin and out between the arrival at the hospital and the rush to the OR. Men and women in green scrubs, masks covering their faces, move back and forth, their eyes serious. I’m moved to a table, then the bright overhead light tunnels to black.
I’m in a big, open meadow, a quilt spread over the green grass. Bags of picnic food sit ready for whenever we get hungry. Fergie, our Irish setter mix who passed away years ago, is exploring with Bruneau, their tails wagging. Linnie and CJ are plucking shiny rocks from the sandy creek bed, their jeans rolled up to their knees and their laughter carrying across the sunny meadow. Sofie is looking for bugs nearby with Tanya, Zach is fishing with Curren, and Jesse and Skye are off exploring, their chatter blending with the rush of the creek.
Colton is sitting next to me, his eyes warm, peaceful.It’s really nice here.
I want to pull him close and reassure him. Instead, I smile.It’s even nicer now that you’re here.
Longing for this dream to last fills me with a painful fullness, like my heart is cracking from the swell of desire and the love that’s multiplying faster than I can contain it.
But there’s something missing. Or rather, someone.
Keo.
Where is she?
When I wake,groggy and with the hint of a headache tapping at the base of my skull, I’m propped up in a hospital bed. A soft beeping and a rhythmicwhooshfill the silence, and an antiseptic smell tingles my nose. My limbs feel heavy and breathing deep is toopainful, but I’m warm. That I can move my toes and fingers brings a relieved sigh to my lips.
“There you are.” Sofie slips her hand into mine, the contact sending a gentle wave of warmth through me.
I open my heavy lids just as Jesse steps into the room, carrying two tall paper cups. His blue eyes brighten. “Look who’s finally awake.”
“Linn’s going to kill you,” I say as he hands one of the cups to Sofie.
He laughs, his face brightening. “The cups are made from forty-percent recycled material, and the coffee beans are organically grown from a women-owned business in Nicaragua. I think she’ll give me a pass.”
“Where…” I have to rest for a moment “…is she?”
Sofie gives me a gentle smile. “A few floors down.” Her eyes fill with tears. “Mild concussion. Two broken ribs. Some cuts and abrasions.”
“But she’s okay,” Jesse interrupts. “I checked on her a bit ago. Maryanne and CJ and some big dude named Bear are with her.”
I squeeze Sofie’s hand, my gaze finding Jesse’s. “She was so brave.” The lump in my throat thickens.