Page 79 of Careless Hope
“Promise,” I said, meaning it.
“Caroline’s been . . . she’s been worried sick. Just so you know.”
“Gray, where is she?” The question felt thick in my throat as I shifted slightly, the pain a stark reminder of the reason for my hospital stay.
My brother’s silhouette leaned against the window, his gaze fixed somewhere on the horizon before he turned to look at me. “She was right here, wouldn’t budge an inch. Looked like a fierce little guardian angel covered in dust and . . . blood.” Gray’s voice softened, his usual gruffness waning. “Sutton and Eryn had to practically lasso her away to get her to shower. She finally agreed under the condition they take her down to donate blood.”
I tried to picture Caroline covered with my blood, her green eyes shadowed with concern. It didn’t sit right in my mind—her in distress because of me.
“She was covered in blood?” I croaked, fear gripping me despite the dulling effect of the pain meds.
“Your blood,” Gray corrected gently. “But she’s okay, Walker. Tough as they come, that one.”
For a moment, we both just sat there, letting the beep of the monitors fill the silence—a reminder of life continuing around us, relentless and unyielding.
“Caroline saved your hide, you know,” Gray spoke up again, pulling me from my thoughts. He moved closer, resting his hands on the metal railing of the hospital bed. “When that asshole shot you, she did everything she could to stop the bleeding and take care of her patient. If she hadn’t, you both would have died.”
“She saved us both?”
Gray nodded.
“That’s her job.”
“Maybe so, but doctors don’t sit here at their patients’ bedside, covered in blood for ten hours straight. I don’t know what happened between you two when she broke things off. But you should fight for her. That woman’s got a heart the size of the Montana sky, and it’s pretty damn clear she’s in love with you. Everyone can see it.”
“Everyone, huh?” The corners of my mouth lifted ever so slightly. It wasn’t just the drugs making me feel light-headed now; it was the thought of Caroline caring that deeply for me.
“Everyone,” Gray confirmed with a nod. “You’re a lucky man, Walker. Don’t mess this up.”
A laugh almost broke through, but it came out as a wince instead. “Wasn’t planning on it.”
“Good.” Gray clasped my hand briefly, a rare gesture that spoke volumes. “Now rest up. You’ve got some courting to do when you’re back on your feet. And a ranch to help run.”
The weight of his words settled over me, not as a burden, but as a mantle I was finally ready to wear. I closed my eyes, images of Caroline and the sprawling acres of Red Downs mingling in my drowsy mind. Rest would come, healing would follow, and then . . . Well, then it was time to step up and be the man they all seemed to believe I could be.
The steady beep of monitors was the first thing I registered as I blinked my eyes open, but it was the collective sigh of relief that had me turning my head. There stood Mama, Gran, and Mason, all hovering like a trio of mismatched guardian angels.
“Thank the Lord,” Mama murmured, her handflying to her chest. She approached with the kind of careful steps one might use around a skittish colt.
“Boy, you gave us quite the scare,” Gran added, her voice firm despite the tremble in her hands. She was a pillar, always had been, but even pillars wear down with enough worry.
Mason just clapped me gently on the shoulder—an unspoken ‘good to see you alive, buddy’—his gray eyes betraying the concern his stoic face tried to mask.
“Seems I’ve caused a bit of a commotion,” I rasped, my throat raw as sandpaper.
“Commotion is an understatement,” Mama said, dabbing at her eyes with the corner of her handkerchief.
“That Jim fella is lucky the police took him away before I could get to him,” Gran said, her voice unwavering. Mason nodded knowingly and Mama rolled her eyes.
“Damn straight,” I said, and meant it. Gran looked like a sweet old lady, but I’d never want to be on her bad side.
“Alright, alright, everyone needs to clear out,” a nurse barged in, her tone leaving no room for argument. “This cowboy needs his rest.”
They filed out with soft goodbyes and ‘get better soons’, leaving behind a silence that felt too heavy for the sterile room.
It wasn’t long before the door creaked open again, and there she was—Caroline. Her auburn hair damp from her shower, wearing what looked like fresh scrubs, though the weariness in her eyes spoke volumes.
“Hey,” I managed, my voice less than a whisper.
