Page 91 of Steadfast

“No, I want to go home.”

“You’ve been in a pretty bad accident, Maeve,” Crew chimed in, his voice full of concern.

She knew he meant well but she wasn’t asking for his feedback on the issue.

For once, the boys looked to Oakleigh to be the voice of reason.

Maeve felt Oakleigh’s eyes on her as she was pressed to make a decision. She knew she probably looked miserable. Her clothes were shredded from the glass, her bruises were already turning a dark shade of purple, and blood was smeared chaotically across her face.

Oakleigh bit her lip hard. It was apparent she had made the choice that she knew would be met with resistance.

“I’m taking her home, boys,” Oakleigh declared, as though she hoped the firmness in her tone belied her inner conflict. She knelt in the dirt and hoisted Maeve to her feet.

“Thanks,” Maeve whispered, her voice raspy and weak as she eased her weight on Oakleigh’s shoulders.

“Don’t make me regret this,” Oakleigh murmured as she signaled for Crew to open the G-Wagon’s passenger door.

“You’ve got to be kidding me!” Sawyer threw his hands behind his head in frustration as he paced a few steps. “I’m calling Dallas. Surely he can talk some sense—”

Before Sawyer could finish his sentence, Oakleigh pressed her foot on the gas, leaving them in the dust and red glow of her tail lights.

Maeve folded her arms across her middle, which ached from where the seat belt had held firm. She did her best to hide her discomfort from Oakleigh, knowing the young woman was teetering on the edge of whipping the car around and heading straight for the emergency room. She leaned her head on thecold glass of the window. Her injuries hurt, but the truth was, her heart felt like it was cracked open and left bare.

Oakleigh was taking the road too fast. Her hands were noticeably shaking as she pulled the steering wheel onto the dirt road to the ranch. She took quick, nervous glances at Maeve as though she were trying to gauge the severity of her injuries.

“How about we talk about something?” Oakleigh sputtered, clearly grasping for any small talk that would draw Maeve out. “Can you believe this fog?”

Maeve shook her head, throwing her hand behind her neck as she felt it tighten from the simple motion. “I don’t have much to say right now, Oakleigh.”

Oakleigh exhaled in relief at hearing the clipped response. “Just making sure you’re still alive over there.”

When they arrived at the house, Oakleigh pulled open the passenger door. She took Maeve’s arm, offering her support as she gathered her strength to stand.

“I’m fine,” Maeve assured, yet only made it a few steps to the porch before pausing to steady herself on the post.

“Yeah, you’re sure looking like you’rereallyfine,” Oakleigh observed, her tone revealing her skepticism.

Before Maeve could answer, the bright headlights of Dallas’ red truck came barrelling down the road, kicking up a cloud of dirt as he slammed on the brakes. He propelled himself out of his driver’s seat to Maeve’s side.

“Maeve, the boys are right,” he started in immediately. “You need to see a doctor.”

“The answer isno,” Maeve replied. She pushed herself off the post and went to the front door, pausing again to lean hard on the door frame. She was too prideful and wounded to admit they were right.

“That’s it.” Dallas took charge. He stepped behind her and lifted her into his arms.

Maeve gasped, “Let me go!” she exclaimed.

Dallas held her tight as he climbed the stairs. “You’ve had it your way, and now we’re going to compromise.”

“Just let me go, Dal, let me go!” she yelled emphatically, pounding her fist on his chest. “You should have just let me go.” Her words were no longer just about being carried up the stairs.

He took her down the hall to her large bedroom and laid her in bed. “Now I’m calling the doctor, and don’t you take one step out of this bed until he gets here, you hear?”

Maeve’s resistance was fleeting as she felt herself sink into her soft, white pillow. She didn’t even care that she was leaving blood and dirt behind on the sheets as she felt her painful, tight muscles and achy joints release into the mattress. Hit with overwhelming exhaustion, her eyelids began to close. Feeling emotionally depleted, all she wanted was to be left alone.

That night, being left alone was not an option.

Maeve was wrenched awake from her fitful rest as the bedroom door swung open. Oakleigh looked determined, holding a bowl of warm water and a washcloth.

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