“Of course I did. I was in the car the moment I heard.” Jaycee hugged Cordy hard, then pressed a package into her hands. “Don’t worry, it’s not food. I mean, it’s wine and chocolate, but that’s more like self-care.”
Cordy didn’t know what to say. She’d been trying to be strong while being stuck here, thinking of ways she might be allowed to help, and to have someone come all this way just for her?
It was a lot, in a good way, but also made her want to cry.
“I was just…” She swung her arm toward the pile of boxes, not knowing what to say. “…packing?”
Jaycee watched her for a long moment. Her gaze was steady and understanding.
Maybe she was going to talk Cordy out of this. One part of Cordy desperately wanted Jaycee to. It wasn’t that Cordy wanted to leave Chance… but she couldn’t stick around when he didn’t love her.
Her parents had spent her entire childhood showing her how to leave everything behind. Cordy could do this. She was a master at it.
Jaycee took a breath. Cordy braced herself to answer whatever difficult question came her way.
And then Jaycee asked, “What can I do to help?”
Cordy stopped. She looked around at the mountain of boxes, at her baby, at her dog, and then at her friend. Jaycee had dropped everything to come to Cordy even though she had just had a baby.
Jaycee was herfriend.Cordy understood that word in an entirely new way now. She had friends here and a home, even ifshe wasn’t with Chance. No matter what, Cordy had family on her side.
It was such a new feeling she had to sit down. Madeleine stared up at her.
“I don’t know what to do,” she confessed.
Jaycee came to sit next to her, with Brayden on her lap. “Okay. Let’s talk and figure it out. Whatever you decide, we’ll be here for you.”
So Cordy started pouring her heart out.
twenty-eight
Chance waitedoutside his father’s hospital room for the doctor to finish, feeling as if gravity was too much for his body to bear. Even the cold air blowing from the vent seemed heavy against his skin, raising bruises where it landed.
He scrubbed a hand over his face. He was exhausted and… and… and God knew what else, thinking crap like the air was hurting him. Hard to believe about a month ago, they’d been here for Madeleine's birth.
And now he was here for this.
His brothers waited with him. Ruby had left for home hours ago, needing to get things arranged so she could take some time off. Thank God Cordy was safe at home.
Chance hadn’t let himself call Cordy either, or he might have ended up giving in and letting her come. He’d been terrified she’d show up. Chance wanted her with him so bad his chest ached, but this was no place for her and the baby. Someone down the hall had been hacking his head off for the past two hours—Madeleine couldn’t be anywhere near that. She was too fragile.
Thankfully, Cordy hadn’t come to the hospital. She’d probably had a quiet day with the baby, the kind of day that was the opposite of his.
His fist clenched around nothing as if he could gather up their day, pull it close to him. The only thing that had gotten him through this was the image of Cordy and Madeleine at home, living their gentle, innocent lives, totally untouched by the grief that was crushing him.
“Rye.” Quint’s voice was cut up, raw, like it’d been pummeled in a rock tumbler. “You ought to stay at my house tonight. No point being out there alone.”
Rye shook his head. “I don’t mind. And Pard and the rest of the animals need taking care of.”
“Cordy’s got him,” Chance said. “And I’ve got to call her.”
“Ruby talked to her,” Quint said.
Good, that was settled then. Chance could give her the full story once he got home. Although he might not tell her everything—it had been fucking harrowing to see.
They’d been checking cattle in the south pasture with everything going as well as it could have. The heifers were fat, the calves were frisky, and the grass was lush. Still, Chance wished he was at home with Cordy and Madeleine. He missed them. But he had to practice for when they were gone. Better to stay away and try to get used to their absence.
And then Holden collapsed.
