Page 21 of High Frequency

It would be too bad if her efforts didn’t net her something useful.

“Frustrating,” I commiserate.

Suddenly she stops in her tracks.

“You don’t have to walk me all the way back, you know.”

I open my mouth and immediately close it again, letting my eyes drift to Carmi, who is crouched at the edge of the river up ahead, poking a stick in the water.

“I didn’t mean—” she starts what I know is going to be some kind of apology, but I don’t let her finish.

“Jackson is in intensive care,” I find myself saying, giving voice to the dark cloud that’s been following me all weekend.

Yeah, if I didn’t have something to keep me physically busy, I think I would’ve come out of my skin.

I got the news Friday night when I found Thomas out on the porch again on my way to my cabin. He called me over and I could tell the old man was shaken. No sooner had I joined him when Ama came outside with a drink for him and a beer for me. I knew something bad had happened when she took a seat next to me.

“Jackson? What happened?”

Sloane grabs hold of my arm, and my eyes find hers. She knows he’s a friend.

“Saved up his meds and took ’em all at once Thursday night,” I bite off, still angry as hell.

She clamps a hand over her mouth and whispers, “Oh no…” before she seems lost for words.

Yeah, me too.

Over the years, since his mother and Jonas became an item, he and I had become friends. The first time I met him he was getting ready to start his special ops training. The unit he was assigned to was stationed at Fort Bragg, but he’d come to spend time at the ranch whenever he could.

Sloane isn’t pumping me for information, which tells me she’d probably already heard about Jackson’s medical discharge last year.

It was last December—two weeks before Christmas—we got word he’d been hurt while conducting an operation overseas. Jackson lost his right leg from right above the knee. I don’t think any of us know the details surrounding his injury, and it’s not likely we ever will, but after his release from the Womack Army Medical Center, Jackson went to a dark place.

For a while, he was in an inpatient, physical rehabilitation program at the Veterans Medical Center in Fort Harrison, right here in Montana. I visited him a couple of times but he made it clear he’d just as soon I didn’t come. I know both his mom and Jonas tried to get him to come back to the ranch, but he basically blew them off and ended up renting an apartment a few blocks from the medical center.

We’d all been worried about him, and as it turns out, with good reason.

“How is he?” she inquires

I shrug. “Alive. That’s as much as I know for now.”

Sloane gives my arm a squeeze before dropping her hand. I already miss the connection.

“Uncle Sully never mentioned anything, or I would’ve checked in with you.”

Ama pointed out it’s not common knowledge yet, mainly because his condition is uncertain at this time. They’d wanted me to know so I could keep an eye on Thomas during the night since Jonas and Alex were still in Helena, staying close to the hospital. I don’t think JD or even Wolff know yet. I ended up spending the past few nights in the spare bedroom at the ranch.

“It’s not really something that’s easy to talk about without feeling like you’re betraying a trust,” I point out.

She tilts her head and scrutinizes me.

“And yetyou’retelling me?”

I shrug.

“You were always easy to talk to.”

About most things.

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