Читать книгу Cowboy Daddy - Angel Smits - Страница 11

CHAPTER THREE

FIVE LONG HOURS on the road nearly derailed Lane’s sanity. He called everyone he had a number for but had only managed to reach voice mail. He left a dozen messages. By the time he hit the outskirts of Dallas, his phone was dead. Which meant that instead of knowing what was happening, his imagination was running wild.

Twice, he’d nearly turned around. This wasn’t his problem. If Amanda had wanted him there she’d have told him, right? But the weight of responsibility kept him driving. Finally, Dallas General loomed on the horizon like a huge bird of prey. He swallowed his apprehension as he parked his truck in visitor parking.

His anger had dissipated, only to be replaced by disappointment and fear. Why hadn’t she told him?

All those what-ifs followed him through the sliding glass doors and halfway down the hall. What if she wouldn’t see him? What if it really wasn’t his kid? What if...?

Stepping off the elevator moments later, Lane came face to face with a giant grinning rabbit plastered to the wall. One huge ear pointed to his left and had the word nursery printed on the pink interior of the floppy ear. The other ear, bent just a bit, pointed the other direction, with room numbers on it. He stood there for a long moment, not sure which ear to follow. Not sure who he wanted to see first.

Who he should see first?

Mandy’s face popped into his mind, and while he wasn’t sure of the reception he’d receive, he headed toward the patient rooms. Surely he could find her.

He’d gone up and down the hallway twice before a nurse stopped him. “Can I help you?”

“Yeah. Uh—” He wasn’t a relative or Mandy’s husband—that notion gave him pause. From all the times he’d taken his dad to the hospital, he knew he wouldn’t get details if he wasn’t. But he didn’t want details, not from the nurse anyway. “Amanda Hawkins?”

“Oh...” The fact that the nurse briefly looked away sent Lane’s stomach shooting to his knees. She recovered quickly, though. “She’s been moved upstairs. Her family is in the waiting room, just down the hall, if you’d like to join them.”

Upstairs? What was upstairs? Without another word, his heart slamming in his chest, Lane stalked toward the doorway the nurse had indicated.

He didn’t see anyone at first, then a movement in the corner caught his eye and he realized the room went around a bend. He recognized Mandy’s sister, Addie, standing at a wall of floor-to-ceiling windows.

Wyatt, his boss, was sprawled on a dark faux-leather couch, one big hand rubbing his eyes. Neither of them had seen him, and Lane held back.

More movement, more people. DJ was in another chair, staring out the window, as well. Silent. Pensive. Tara sat beside him, her head on his shoulder. The final brother, Jason, sat farther down, his head bowed, staring at the soft gray carpet.

The pain-filled, worry-soaked silence slammed into Lane. He mentally cursed. How bad was it? All the brothers and sisters were here. He did not want to step into that lion’s den. As an only child, he had no clue how to deal with siblings and he was pretty sure they wouldn’t understand why he was here.

If Wyatt had any idea, Lane was pretty sure he’d have heard about it by now.

“She can’t go home alone, you know that, right?” Addie blurted out, causing everyone to turn and look at her, including Lane.

“You going to tell her that?” Jason asked.

Addie sighed. “The doctor said it could be weeks before she’s back to full strength. She can’t take care of the baby alone. We have to come up with a plan.”

Tara actually laughed. “And that worked so well when we tried to stop DJ from going to find Tammie.” Everyone laughed, including DJ.

“That was different.” Addie turned back to the windows, her back straight and angry.

“How?” DJ stood, pacing slowly, rubbing his stiffened, injured legs, a habit Lane was sure he didn’t even realize he had. “This is still you trying to run the show, Ad.”

“I’m not—”

“Yes, you are.” Wyatt stood and put his hands on Addie’s shoulders. “But this time, I agree.” Wyatt glanced back at the others, and in the process, his gaze found Lane. Their eyes met. No longer able to hold back, Lane stepped into the room.

“Lane?” DJ looked up, his surprise clear on his face. “What are you doing here?” It didn’t take long for DJ to put two and two together. Lane watched realization dawn in his friend’s eyes.

Silence hung thick in the room as all the brothers and sisters looked around at each other, then at him. He wasn’t a stranger to any one of them. And he tracked the progress of realization move through the group as they figured out that he’d just joined the family—whether they liked it or not.

DJ moved first, his hulking frame more than capable of knocking the taller, much thinner, Lane flat. Except Lane had adrenaline, and his father’s influence and fighting skills, on his side.

Lane was at the end of his rope. When DJ’s muscled body slammed into his, he almost welcomed the punishment. The thought that this must be what his dad felt, filled his mind but quickly vanished as DJ’s fist made contact with his jaw. He cursed with the pain, intent on giving back equal measure.

When strong arms grabbed his and pulled him back, Lane struggled. DJ was moving away as well, and it finally registered that Wyatt had hold of DJ.

After a minute, Lane shrugged off the hold and bent to retrieve his Stetson from the floor. He found Jason standing behind him, still poised to grab him if he made a wrong move.

“Damn, DJ.” Lane rubbed his sore jaw. “What the hell?”

DJ’s answer was a growl that made Wyatt’s grip tighten. The other brothers weren’t any more thrilled to see Lane here than DJ was, but they had the advantage of level heads...something neither DJ nor Lane had even in good times.

“Cut it out,” Wyatt barked, still holding DJ’s arms tight behind his back.

“What is wrong with you?” Addie was in DJ’s face. “Fighting won’t solve anything.”

“Yeah, well, I’d feel a hell of a lot better.” DJ glared at his older sister.

“You might, but this isn’t about you. This is about Mandy.” She spun around and glared at Lane. “And you. You’ve got some serious questions to answer.”

“Not to you, I don’t.”

Addie came at him. “Are you the one responsible?” She poked his chest with her finger. “How dare you leave her alone. We almost lost her—and the baby—today.” Tears flooded her eyes. “If it hadn’t been for DJ being here for the transfusion, I don’t know—”

“They’d have found someone else to match.” Wyatt spoke over DJ’s still strained shoulders. “Tara?” He looked meaningfully over at his younger sister, jerking his head toward Addie.

“Wait? Transfusion? What are you talking about?” Lane asked. He should tell them he hadn’t left her alone. That he hadn’t even known. His pride begged him to clear things up, but worry trumped everything.

“Okay. Wait. Stop.” Tara stepped forward, putting an arm around Addie’s shoulder and guiding her away. She looked at him, her anger banked with confusion. “She didn’t tell you either, did she?”

Lane waited, not sure how to answer. The truth was safest and the silence heavy. “No.” He twisted the brim of his hat around for a long minute. “I figured it out this morning.” His voice came out soft, but the impact rippled through the room.

“You sure you’re the father?” Jason asked. It hadn’t surprised Lane, or anyone really, that Jason had become a lawyer. The stare he leveled on Lane now would have put any witness on edge.

“She hasn’t told me. But unless you’re hinting that your sister sleeps around—”

“Damn you, Lane,” DJ started anew. “I warned you years ago to stay away from my sisters.”

“Did you ever bother telling your sister to stay away from me?” Lane stepped away from the group. Instead of going back to return DJ’s punch, like he wanted, Lane walked to the door. His patience was gone. “Someone better tell me. What transfusion?”

It was no surprise Wyatt spoke up. “She hemorrhaged.” Lane knew his boss well, so while Wyatt appeared calm, he recognized the worry in his voice. “The doctor called it a postpartum hemorrhage. She lost a lot of blood. Too much.”

Lane cursed again. “Is she going to be okay?”

“We hope so. It’ll take time to recover. The doctor said a month. Or more.”

“The baby?”

This time Wyatt let himself smile. “He’s fine. They have him in the neonatal nursery as a precaution since he’s a couple weeks early.”

He. It hit Lane then. A son. He had a son. Voices rang around him, but none of the words registered. A son. His boot heels seemed loud as he walked away.

They let him go, and Lane heard Wyatt curse. “Damn it, DJ. Don’t go after him.”

“I’m not. He’s not headed toward Mandy.”

The silence was thick. “I thought he was your friend?” Tara sounded confused.

“He was. Until he touched my sister. I warned him—”

“Oh, give me a break. I think Mandy had plenty of say in the matter. You are not in charge of who we see—or sleep with.”

“Where’s he going?” Addie asked.

“Probably the nursery,” Tara said. “My guess is he’s headed to see his son.”

Her words were like rocks thrown on the surface of a peaceful pond. They rippled after Lane, pushing him closer to his destination, showing him how quickly reality could be altered.

DJ cursed, his voice like a shot in the quiet hall. “This isn’t really happening, is it?” he asked.

No one answered him. They didn’t have to. It would have been a waste of breath.

* * *

A GOOD NIGHT’S sleep gave Amanda rest, but her dreams brought back all her worry. Early. The baby was early. Too early? Amanda tried to keep her thoughts ordered, tried to focus as she awoke.

The medications and leftover exhaustion didn’t help. All she could do was run through her own mind again and again. What had she done wrong? What should she have done differently? Would the baby have long-term problems? Would he be okay? She glanced down at the IV still in her arm. Would she?

Panic tried to take over, but she fought it. Barely succeeding, barely able to think.

Heavy footsteps sounded on the tile floor. Boot heels. Her hopes irrationally rose before she could tamp them down. Even if it was him, what should she say?

Was that relief or disappointment she felt when Wyatt appeared in the doorway instead? “How you doing?”

“I don’t know.” Wyatt was one of the few people Amanda couldn’t lie to. It had been the hardest thing she’d ever done over the past months, not to confide in him. But if he’d known the truth, he’d probably kill Lane. And she needed her son’s father to be in one piece, at least for a while.

Instead of talking, she looked down, focusing on the blanket’s pattern as if it were the most important thing in the world.

“Hey.” He stopped beside the bed. “You up for another little trip?”

Her head shot up. “Is it okay?” She’d been confined to bed except for the one short visit to meet her son. And that seemed a lifetime ago, almost like a dream.

Wyatt nodded. “I checked with the nurses. You’ve rested enough. Time to take you to see the little guy again.”

But she didn’t want to move. It hurt to move. Hurt to think about seeing him again. Seeing her son, the little one with all the tubes and wires attached to him. “I’m scared.”

“I know.” Wyatt rolled the over-bed table away and walked to the corner where the wheelchair sat. He smiled. “Your chariot awaits.”

A nurse arrived just then and smiled her own encouragement as she gave Wyatt a hand.

Slowly, carefully, Amanda shoved the blankets and sheet back. Wyatt helped her lift her legs over the edge of the mattress and to the cool floor. How could such a big man be so gentle? He’d always been that way, though. She’d been four when their dad had died, and at fifteen, Wyatt had become the closest thing to a father she’d ever known.

It seemed to take forever for him and the nurse to help her stand and take just a couple of steps to the vinyl seat. Between the three of them, they got her up, with the IV bag hung on the pole attached to the back of the chair. She was exhausted before she was settled.

How was she ever going to take care of a baby, much less herself, when she couldn’t even get out of bed alone? Her panic returned.

“Just relax. You’ll be fine.” Wyatt slowly turned the wheelchair toward the door and they headed to the elevators.

The NICU nursery was down a floor and at the end of what felt like an eternal hallway. It seemed so far away. She couldn’t even get there on her own if she wanted. Her eyes burned as her limitations sunk in.

Wyatt took her through myriad different doors. He seemed to know his way, for which she was thankful, since none of it looked how she remembered it from her last trip to see her son. Had she dreamed it all?

Finally, he stopped next to a tiny glass cube that did look familiar. “Oh!” she cried. “There he is.” She couldn’t see him well from where she sat. “Can I stand up? Or get closer?”

A nurse stepped around the tiny bed and smiled at her. “I have a better idea. Do you want to hold him?”

The woman’s face blurred and all Amanda could manage was a vigorous nod. She felt Wyatt’s presence behind her, but he stepped away to give them room to move her around and get them settled.

She hadn’t been able to sit up more than a few minutes before, so holding him hadn’t been an option. Now, as the tiny bundle of blanket and baby nestled in the crook of her arm, she realized that while she was weak, she was stronger than she’d been that first day. And then she stopped thinking about anything except the sweet, warm bundle sleeping in her arms.

So tiny. He looked so small. So helpless. And yet so beautiful and perfect.

Fewer “things” were attached to him today, though a couple of wires and cords had to be arranged around her. Finally, no one was there. No one hovered, as if not trusting her. It was only her and... Lucas? Max? Dear God, she couldn’t have forgotten to name him. Panic set in again. No. Lucas. Lucas Maxwell. Relief eased the panic some.

Suddenly, the nurse was back and Wyatt crouched beside the chair, a proud smile on his face. She looked up at the clock. Where had the fifteen minutes gone?

That was it? She wanted to hold him forever.

“Time to get you back.” Wyatt put a comforting hand on Amanda’s knee, reassuring her.

Amanda was tired. And by the time Lucas and all his paraphernalia were settled back in the bed, Amanda struggled to stay awake. While returning to her room was a disappointing prospect, she knew it was for the best.

She expected Wyatt to push the wheelchair back to her room. She was surprised when he turned it into the small lounge just off the nursery. The Family Room, they called it. It was filled with homey furniture, a large rocking chair and soft piped-in background music.

She knew what this room was usually used for. For the families who had to say goodbye. Her heart hitched in panic.

“Don’t go thinking too hard, Mandy,” Wyatt whispered as he settled in the huge rocking chair and pulled the wheelchair close. Trapping her. He waited patiently for her to finally look up. She was nearly as stubborn as he was. Nearly. But Wyatt had more patience than any person she’d ever met...damn it.

“Tell me,” she finally spat out, expecting him to tell her something awful that the doctors had shared with him that they wouldn’t tell the mother who was exhausted and too sick to even take care of her own child.

Wyatt carefully took her hands in his. His big strong fingers were rough from the hard hours of work he put in at the ranch every day. That roughness had always been comforting when she was a kid, and that comfort came back now.

“Everything’s fine. Your little guy is doing great. Better than you, I think. I just wanted to talk.”

“About?” She let the silence stretch out as she let her relief soak in.

“So.” He paused. “Is there anything you’d like to tell me?”

“No. Not that I can think of.” She knew he was hoping she’d changed her mind about telling him who Lucas’s father was. She hadn’t, so she figured she’d wait him out.

Wyatt sighed. “Fine. I’m not going to beat you up about this, but I won’t avoid it, either. Anyway, we all met and discussed this. You need help, Amanda. You can’t do this alone.”

That was not what she’d expected him to say. She lifted her head and stared at him. “I don’t understand.”

“Come home. Emily and I’ve talked about it. DJ and Tammie agree. Addie suggested it, actually. Until you’re stronger, and until you can do it on your own, come to the ranch.”

She stared at him. Stared and let her brain click past all the reasons why she shouldn’t. Why she should fight to stay here in Dallas where—

Where she lived alone, where she’d have to face putting Lucas in day care in order to do it all on her own.

“Addie could come stay.” But for how long? She was grasping at straws. Addie would have to return to work in a few weeks. Would Amanda be ready to go it alone by then?

She was weak. The doctor had explained her situation. Why she’d hemorrhaged, why she had to take it easy until she healed.

But would going to the ranch be foolish? If she went back to the ranch, she’d be returning to more than just the ranch and her family who still treated her like a child. She’d be putting herself right smack in the middle of the mess that had put her here in the first place.

She’d be right there where Lane was. Right—

“No,” she whispered and broke the stare first. “I can’t.”

“Damn it, Mandy.” Wyatt’s frustration was palpable. He stood and moved away, pacing the tiny room. “That little boy needs more than a stubborn mother right now. Don’t argue with me.” He pulled out his best Dad imitation. “And you need help, too. We’re here for you.”

“It just—” She couldn’t tell him. She—

“She’ll be there.”

The deep voice shimmied over her nerves, and with the last of her energy, she spun around. There, in the doorway, black Stetson in hand, Lane stood, dark and menacing.

“I—”

“As will my son.”

Amanda tried to glare at him, her resentment giving her strength. Lane didn’t even look perturbed. She glanced back at Wyatt. He wasn’t surprised, either. He knew.

Crap.