Cowboy Up (Coming Home #3)

I blow my air out and lean against the seat, closing my eyes and doing my best to bat the fear back. The vision of Caroline as I saw her last makes it hard, but finally we pull up to the emergency room entrance, and I’m out and rushing into the brightly lit waiting room.

“Caroline Davis. My wife. She was brought in by ambulance.”

The young nurse nods before typing something into the computer in front of her. “She’s here, but I don’t have any news right now. If you have a seat, someone will be out as soon as they can tell you more.”

“I need to be with her,” I tell her frantically.

She gives me a sad smile and shakes her head. “I’m sorry, sir. It’s hospital policy.”

“Come on,” Mav says, taking my shoulder and turning me to walk over to one of the empty seats.

And we wait.

We wait and I pretend my world isn’t ending.





28


CAROLINE


“Wake Up Loving You” by Old Dominion

- -

The heavy weight against my hand is the first thing I notice.

The warmth from that weight, the second.

With the cobwebs in my mind, though, it’s hard to register much of anything else.

Slowly, the rest of my body starts to connect back with my groggy mind, the weight on my hand forgotten when the burning sensation in my leg comes into focus. I groan and try to open my eyes.

“Linney,” I hear whispered, but the only thing I can focus on is the pain in my leg, which is getting more and more intense with each passing second. “Darlin’, please calm down.”

“Hurts,” I moan, my voice gravelly and thick, like I just woke up.

“God, baby.”

“Carrie, stop fightin’. You’re safe. Calm down before you hurt yourself more.”

At Luke’s words, my body stops moving. I hadn’t even realized I had been thrashing against the bed. My eyes are still not opening, but more around me registers now. I hear sniffles, some farther from me than others and some right next to me. I hear the beeping of machines and soft, pleading whispers at my side.

Clayton.

Knowing he needs me just as much as I need to see him is what helps me to push the cobwebs away and take control of my mind and body. It takes a couple minutes, but I finally pry my eyes open. I blink frantically as my pupils adjust to the dim light. Luke is standing at the end of my bed, his sister in his arms while she cries against his chest. I turn my head when I see movement to see Maverick in much the same position with Leighton, standing under the TV mounted in the corner. Next to them, Tate is standing behind Quinn, his arms around her shoulders as she wipes her eyes.

Then, when I look away from them, my handsome husband fills my vision.

His hair is wild, like he’s done nothing but run his hands through it. The stubble that had been on his jaw when we went to bed is even darker now. And his red, swollen eyes look like they’re glowing as he openly and silently cries. Tears spill over his lashes and fall down his face before landing against our joined hands resting next to my side. He doesn’t look away, doesn’t dry his tears. He just stares at me, breathing heavily, like he can’t believe I’m right in front of him.

“Hey,” I whisper.

His eyes shudder closed and he sucks in a jerky breath before dropping his forehead against my belly. He shakes his head as his strong shoulders hitch as he loses whatever control he’d been holding tightly to.

“Clayton,” I plead, my heart breaking over seeing my strong husband falling to bits in front of me. “Please, honey.”

He mumbles something against me, the words muffled. I look around the room, frantic to get help in easing his pain, but I see not one dry eye as they witness the strongest man we all know unable to keep himself together any longer.

“Cl-Clayton,” I wobble out, my chin quivering and my eyes filling with tears. “You’re breaking my heart.” My chest literally feels like someone is pulling my heart from my body with each second that passes.

His body shudders and I hear him suck in a breath. “I thought I lost you,” he admits, lifting his head and looking down at our hands. “I saw you there, blood everywhere, and knew if I lost you I’d be losin’ myself too.”

“I’m okay,” I gasp, needing him to stop. “I’m here.”

“There’s nothin’ for me on this earth without you by my side,” he continues. “She almost took you from me.”

I choke on a loud cry as it bursts from my throat. I gasp for air, but I can’t stop wailing. Through my tears, I see Clayton jump to his feet, and then his hands push under my shoulders as he pulls my upper body off the hospital bed and into his arms. I wrap my arms around him the best I can with the IV and cling to him, soaking his shirt while he drenches my gown, the early-morning events coming to a head as we hold each other.

“I’m so sorry,” he mumbles against my neck after we both calm.

“For what?” I question, opening my eyes. The first person I focus on is Maverick. His jaw clenches and his eyes are just as wet as I imagine mine are.

“I should have done better at protecting you.”

I gasp, pull back, and stare up into his tortured eyes. “This is not your fault. No one, not even you, could have seen this comin’. You did protect me, honey. All I heard in my mind was your voice remindin’ me to fight. Your strength filled me up without you even bein’ there. I remembered you tellin’ me where you keep your firearms, and that gave me a chance. You might not have been there, but it was you nonetheless who protected and saved me.”

“It’s because of me you were in this situation to begin with, Caroline.”

I frown. “No, it was because of your crazy ex. Don’t you dare take this on, Clayton Davis.”

“Linney,” he breathes.

“Don’t you Linney me. We’re both victims here. And she does not get to win. Not now. Not ever.”

I see my words take root, the despair in his eyes lifting. His forehead comes to mine and he rocks against me, shaking his head. “I’m never gonna let you out of my sight.”

“I’m thinkin’ that’s not goin’ to be a hardship, honey.”

“I’ve never been more scared in my life. If she wasn’t already dead, I’d fuckin’ kill her myself.”

Knowing I’m the reason Jess is dead doesn’t even faze me. It was either her or me, and I’m not about to feel guilty that I battled for the beautiful life I’ve earned. Maybe one day I’ll feel differently, but I doubt it.

“Why am I here?”

He exhales, his eyes looking pained again. I hate that, but I know it’s unavoidable if I want to know what happened.

“When she . . .” He sucks in a deep breath. “When she shot you, the bullet lodged deep enough in your thigh that you lost a good bit of blood. They stitched you up, and the doctor assures me that, aside from the scar, you’ll have no lastin’ issues. But the bump on your head is what’s got you here for the night. When you passed out, you hit the edge of the toilet on your way down.”

“And the rest?”

“That’s it, darlin’. Stitches, fluids in your IV, and monitorin’ you overnight, and they assure me you’ll make a full recovery.”

I search his eyes, feeling my brows pull in. “What aren’t you tellin’ me?”

He searches my eyes before dropping his head and shaking it slowly. “John was part of this.”