me take you. You can make all the calls you need to make while we’re on the road.”
* * *
Ten minutes later, they were flying along the state highway on the way to I-25. She called Carmen.
At the sound of her sister’s voice, the damn tears started spurting again. “Carm?” she squeaked, all tight and wobbly, both at once.
And Carmen knew instantly that something was wrong. “Omigod, honey, what’s happened?”
James reached over in front of her and dropped open the glove box. He pulled out a box of tissues. Was there anything the man wasn’t ready for? She whipped out a tissue and dabbed at her eyes. He put the box back and withdrew his big, hard arm.
“Addie Anne. Honey, are you still there?”
“I’m here. I’m okay. It’s PawPaw.”
“Oh, no. Is he—”
“He had a heart attack, but he’s still alive.” At least, he was half an hour ago. She explained about the helicopter to St. Anne’s and the emergency surgery that would happen there.
“But...a heart attack? How...?”
Addie squeezed her eyes shut as she pictured James tied to that chair, Levi yelling and waving his shotgun, the hole he’d blown in the basement ceiling. “Long story.” Dear Lord. Was it ever! And Carmen didn’t know about the baby yet, either. “I’ll fill you in on everything later, promise. But...do you think you can come?”
“Of course I’ll come.”
Relief flooded through Addie. Times like this, a girl needed her big sister’s hand to hold. “I’m so glad.”
“I’ll be there as soon as I can. St. Anne’s, you said?”
“Yeah. I’ve got nothing but the name of the hospital at this point.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll find you. I can get family leave from work and figure it all out with Devin, see if his mom can come and stay with the kids.” Devin’s mother had moved to Laramie after her husband died. She’d wanted to be closer to her grandkids. “I’ll get everything arranged as fast as I can and then meet you there. Call my cell if...” Carmen faltered and then finished weakly, “If there’s any other news.”
“I will. Love you, Carm.”
“Love you, too...”
They said goodbye. Addie disconnected the call and sagged against the passenger window. Too much was happening. Losing Brandon followed by constant morning sickness had been more than enough for her to handle. She had simply not been prepared to deal with her crazy grandpa kidnapping James Bravo and then having a heart attack on top of the rest. Pressing a hand against her roiling belly, she dabbed at her eyes and willed James’s fancy quad cab to get there superfast.
* * *
At the hospital, they were sent straight to the surgery wing, where her grandpa was being prepped for bypass surgery. Addie dealt with yet more forms. James took a seat in the waiting room and Addie went in with the surgeon to look at images of Levi’s heart and listen to a description of the surgery to come.
James was waiting when she emerged. She knew the sweetest rush of gratitude, just to have him there. He was practically a stranger—or at least, no more than a casual friend—and she needed to remember that. Still, it meant so much to have someone waiting when she left the surgeon and his pictures of her grandpa’s blocked-up arteries. It meant the world to her not to have to do this alone.
At the sight of her, he got up and came for her. “Addie,” he said. “You’re dead white. You need to sit down.”
“I can’t... I don’t...” What was wrong with her words? Why wouldn’t they organize themselves into actual sentences?
“Come on now.” He reached out and drew her close, into his height and hardness and warmth. “It’s going to be all right.” She let herself sag against his solid strength. It felt way too good there, pressed tight to his side, his big arm banded around her.
But then her poor stomach started churning again. And this time, she couldn’t swallow hard enough or breathe slowly enough to settle it down. With a sharp cry, she pushed James away and ran for the ladies’ room.
At least it wasn’t far, a quick sprint across the waiting room. She shoved through the door and made for the first stall, knocking the stall door inward with the flat of her hand, flinging back the seat and bracing her palms on her thighs just in time. Everything started coming up as her long hair fell forward, getting in the way. She grabbed for it, trying to shove it back and keep her purse from dropping off her shoulder and spilling all over the floor, too.
And then, suddenly, there was James again, right there in the stall with her, gently gathering her hair and smoothing it back out of the way. God. How humiliating. And this was the ladies’ room. He shouldn’t even be in here.
“It’s okay, take it easy. You’re okay, okay...” He kept saying that, “You’re okay,” over and over in that deep, velvety voice of his. She didn’t feel okay, not in the least. But she was in no position to argue the point, with all her attention focused on the grim job of ejecting what was left of her lunch.
She gagged for what seemed like such a long, awful time. But then, finally, when there was nothing left inside her poor belly, the retching slowed and stopped. Panting, trying to even out her breathing, she waited to make sure there would be no surprises.
“Better?” he asked, still in that low, gentle, comforting voice.
Addie groaned and nodded. “Would you...?” Sentences. Whole sentences. “Go. I’ll be all right. Just...go on out. I’ll be there in a minute.”
“You’re sure?”
“Yeah. Uh, thank you. I’m sure.” She flushed away the mess and straightened with care, clutching her shoulder bag closer, physically unable to face him right then.
She felt him back from the stall, the warmth and size of him retreating. He said, “I’ll be right outside, if you need anything.”
“Thank you.” She stared, unblinking, at the tan wall above the toilet, willing him to go.
And at last, he did. She heard the door open and shut and instantly released the breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding.
Slowly, with another long sigh, she turned to confront the empty space behind her. On rubbery legs, she went to the sink and rinsed her face and her mouth. At least there were Tic Tacs in her purse. She ate four of them, sucking on them madly, grateful beyond measure for their sharp, minty taste. She brushed her hair and checked her T-shirt for spills. Really, she looked terrible, hollow-eyed and pasty-faced. But at least her stomach had stopped churning now that it was empty.
Note to self: Never eat again—and get out there and tell poor James that you are fine and he can go.
Smoothing her hair one last time and settling her purse strap firmly on her shoulder, she returned to the waiting room.
He was sitting across the room in the row of padded
