Page 24 of Cowboy Don't Go

She kicked at a rock in the driveway and sent it spiraling down the road and pain shooting up her toe. Limping a few steps, she swore and kept going.

Good grief. She’d just been alone too long. That was it. The fact that Cooper Lane was making her feel things that she hadn’t felt in a long, long time, should have made her step back. Think twice. Be reasonable.

Instead, she’d intentionally put herself in that barn with him, alone. Close enough that even the heady scents of horses and a hard day’s work on him had her imagining what it would be like if he just leaned a little closer and . . . kissed her!

What?

And there she was, apologizing for her sense of self-preservation, for heaven’s sake. For imagining the worst in him.

But that sensible voice that she had always listened to before Cooper Lane had arrived and disturbed the Fforce was suspiciously silent these days.

And she wasn’t sure what she was going to do about that.

*

That night, Cooper got home with his arms full of groceries, ready to cook a good meal after a long day at the ranch. But, setting the food down on the counter, his father was nowhere in sight. “Dad?”

Nothing.

He called again. Still nothing. Cooper thought maybe he’d gone out to the barn, but since there was no stock there anymore, there was no real reason to—

A sound from the other side of the house caught his attention. A thump. A loud thump.

He found his father on the bathroom floor, unconscious. Pale. Breathing shallowly.

“Dad!” He lifted the old man’s head onto his own lap and cradled him there for a minute, trying to wake him before dragging his cell from his pocket to call 911.

Chapter Five

The ambulance arrived after an agonizing twenty minutes, and he followed them to the hospital in his truck. He should have known. He should have seen this coming. Ray hadn’t been eating well or even trying for that matter. He should have seen how weak he was getting and forced him to see a doctor. But his father didn’t want any part of doctors. Or hospitals. Or getting well. He was determined not to fight whatever was happening to him. He’d given up.

There were a hundred tests and reams of questions for Cooper; many of which he didn’t have the answers to. It was a miserable feeling to know so little of your own father’s life, having been separated for as long as they had been. The attending doctor seemed to recognize Ray but said nothing. For that, Cooper felt grateful.

But he felt helpless watching them work without being able to help. The antiseptic smell of the hospital reminded him of the last time he was here, when his mother died. He’d been very young. It had been late at night and his father had scooped him out of bed and rushed him to the hospital. There had been a car accident. He saw her once. But only long enough to kiss her hand goodbye. The shock of seeing her that way pretty much erased his memory of that night for a long time. But the smell of this place brought that night back, like a pounding heartbeat behind his eyes.

“He’s awake,” Dr. Rigby, the attending ER doc said when he emerged from the curtained-off room. “But we need to keep him overnight. His electrolytes are all out of balance and his numbers are all skewed. He doesn’t want to talk about the cancer, but we can’t not consider that in our treatment. I’m going to work on him a bit more, see if I can elicit some more information. He’s going to be here overnight. Maybe—probably—for more than one night. I’ve given him a sedative and some palliative care for his pain. He’ll be asleep again soon. Do you want to see him first?”

Cooper nodded. But he was too late. His father was already asleep when he got in the room. For a long time, he just stood by his bedside and watched his chest rise and fall.

“This isn’t enough,” he whispered to the old man. “Not nearly enough time. I’m not ready for you to go, Dad. Do you hear me? I’m not letting you go this easy. We—you and I—are going to work this out. We’re gonna get through this.”

Maybe he imagined that his father squeezed his hand. But he tightened his fingers around his father’s for a long squeeze.

In the hallway, after, he dialed the Hard Eight, hoping Liam would answer. Instead, Shay did.

“Is Liam around?” he asked her.

“Just me. Everyone is outside doing chores.”

The sound of her voice made him suddenly aware of his heartbeat in his ears. “Can you give Liam a message for me?”

“Sure,” she said.

“I can’t make it in tomorrow. Maybe not for the next few days.”

“What? Are you okay?” She sounded worried now.

“I’m fine. It’s . . . personal. I just need—”

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