Page 88 of Wasted On You

“He must be at Benton’s,” she whispered. Ivy must have missed him. Or maybe he was somewhere else having a wonderful night without her.

Hot tears welled and overflowed, making long tracks that stung down her face. She didn’t have the heart to drive back to the Triple B ranch, at least not yet. Instead, she sat in her truck with nothing but a big, empty silence for company. Maybe she should go home and hide in bed. Maybe things would be better tomorrow. Maybe he was waiting for her back at her place.

But then why wasn’t he answering his cell?

With nothing to do but leave, Ivy was in the process of turning her vehicle around when her phone rang, and Cal’s name popped up on the media screen. She considered letting the call go to voicemail, but as she headed down the lane, tapped the Bluetooth.

“Hey,” she said, turning onto the road.

“Where are you?”

There was no point in fibbing. “I went to see Mike Paul, but he’s not here.”

“That’s why I’m calling.” Cal sounded wrong and upset.

Ivy’s stomach dipped. “What’s going on?

“He’s at the hospital.”

“What?”

“Mackenzie, the ER doc, just called his parents. I don’t know the details, but we’re headed over now.”

“Was he in a car accident? Is he hurt?” Fear, the kind that made a person sick to their stomach, gripped Ivy. “Cal?”

“All Mackenzie said was to come as soon as we could.”

“I’m on my way.”

She disconnected and drove like the hounds of hell were on her heels. Not particularly smart, considering it was winter, but she couldn’t help it. She gripped the steering wheel so tight her fingers cramped but made it back to town in record time. Ivy pulled up to the emergency entrance and spied three Sheriff’s cars parked outside. Two were from Big Bend, the other was from Bozeman. Her stomach tumbled over at the sight. Three cop cars? This couldn’t be good.

The nurse on duty, a woman Ivy didn’t know, glanced up from behind the triage desk and smiled. Her brown eyes were kind and soft.

“Can I help you?”

“I’m looking for my friend. Mike Paul Darlington. He’s here, and I need to see him.”

The woman began typing, her fingers click-clacking along, but then she paused with a frown. “He’s been taken upstairs.” She glanced up. “He’s in surgery.”

“Surgery? What the hell for? What happened?” Ivy’s voice rose as her panic increased.

“I’m sorry, but are you family?”

“What? No, I’m…” She faltered. “I’m his best friend.”

“I’m sorry, but I can’t give out that kind of information?—”

“I love him.” The stupid tears began again, and Ivy leaned against the glass partition. “Please. Just tell me where he is.”

“Okay. You need to calm down, though. Can you do that?”

Ivy nodded, and swiped at the tears on her face.

“He’s on the third floor, but he’s in surgery, so you won’t be able to see him for a few hours or longer.”

“Thank you,” she whispered.

There were too many folks waiting at the elevators, so Ivy flew up the stairs. By the time she reached the third floor, she was out of breath, out of patience, and she needed a win, or she’d fall apart.

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