CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CHAPTER TWENTY
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
EPILOGUE
THE RIVERTON HEALTH Center was one of Annie Finnegan Larsen’s least favorite places in the world. A world that was admittedly small and familiar and filled with the people and places she loved. But this place was the exception. Bad things happened here. The only place she disliked more than here was the cemetery.
“I’ll need to see your insurance card.” The triage nurse had yet to look away from her keyboard.
Maintaining her outward composure, Annie plucked the card from her wallet and passed it across the counter. What were the odds that she would come to the clinic in a town where she knew everyone and encounter a nurse she’d never seen before? Anyone who knew her and her circumstances would be rushing to offer comfort and support, but not this young woman. She was fixated on her computer screen.
“Do you still live on River Road?” she asked.
Annie took a deep breath. “At Finnegan Farm, yes. I’ve never lived anywhere else. I’m here with my son,” she said. “He fell off a horse this morning. He could have broken bones, a head injury. He needs to see a doctor. Could we please look after the paperwork later?” She wished she had it in her to be forceful, or at least impatient. Instead, she was polite. Too polite for her own good.
Still, something in the sound of her voice must have caught the woman’s attention because she finally made eye contact and glanced around her computer monitor at Annie’s seven-year-old son. Then she swung her gaze to Annie, brows arched, eyes brimming with judgment.
“Mom, where’s Auntie CJ?” Isaac asked, ducking out from under the protective arm she had around his shoulders.
“She’s parking the truck, honey. Keep still, okay? The doctor’s going to see you right away.”
Besides, CJ was more problem than solution. Annie had let her sister convince her that Isaac was ready for junior rodeo, and clearly he wasn’t.
“I don’t want to see the doctor. I want Auntie CJ to take us home.”
“I’m right here, kiddo. How’re you holding up?” CJ, still dressed in full riding habit, minus the helmet, breezed through the double glass doors.
“We’re doing paperwork.” Annie prided herself in always keeping her cool and having a tight rein on her emotions, no matter what the circumstances. Why couldn’t she be assertive, more demanding? If she had those skills, then maybe she wouldn’t have failed her husband. Eric would still be alive and Isaac would still have a father. She had tried to convince Eric that he needed to see a doctor, to find out why he was in so much pain. She should have insisted. No, demanded. Instead, she had taken a step back and let him do the typical guy thing and soldier through the pain.
CJ slung an arm around Annie’s shoulder and led her and Isaac to the row of black leatherette chairs that lined two walls of the small waiting room. “Sit. I’ll handle this. We’ll have Isaac in to see the doc before you know it.”
“He should be in there already. He could be—”
“Annie, I’ve got it. Sit, relax. Okay, I know you’re not going to relax, but at least try to chill for a couple of minutes. Isaac’s fine. Look at him. He’s fine.”
Annie sat, guiding her son into the seat beside her, resisting the urge to pull her little boy onto her lap. Common sense told her that he was all right—he was walking and talking and insisting he wanted to carry on with his riding lesson—but what if he wasn’t? He was her son, her only child, and he was so little and so special and he didn’t have a father.
She tried to listen in as CJ spoke to the admitting clerk, then realized that her sister was deliberately keeping her voice low so Annie couldn’t hear. She was probably telling the woman that Annie was the one who needed medical attention.
Annie focused on the double doors that led to the ER, willing them to open and a nurse, or better yet, a doctor, to appear. She hadn’t set foot in this place in months, not since rushing her husband here with scarcely time to watch him take his last breath. Now she was here with her son, her precious boy and her only remaining link to Eric. Falling off a horse was not good. She should never have agreed to riding lessons, even though CJ was the teacher, and an excellent one at that. But Annie was his mother and it was her job to keep him safe. Given that this little daredevil was so much like his father, she had her work cut out for her.
CJ took the chair next to them, gently ruffled Isaac’s already unruly blond curls. “It’ll just be a few minutes. How do you feel?”
“I wanna go home and go back to the stable.”
Annie met CJ’s questioning gaze. “We’ll talk about that later, after—”
Stacey McGregor emerged from an office behind the front desk. “Annie, Isaac. Hi.”
Annie was instantly reassured by the familiar voice and the woman’s brisk efficiency.
“What’s this I hear about someone falling off a horse?”
“That was me!” Isaac said before Annie could respond, bouncing up from his chair. “I’m learning barrel racing ’cause I want to be in the junior rodeo.”
“CJ’s giving him lessons,” Annie said, gently pulling her son back into the chair. She and Stacey had graduated from high school together. She was an excellent nurse and great with kids, having three of her own.
Stacey kneeled in front of Isaac and
