Page 71 of The Hardest Part

“You sure?”

“They’re getting ready to take her upstairs.” His lip ticked up, and he nodded. “She wants to see you.”

They followed him through the double doors into a world of pungent smells, beeping monitors, and green cotton scrubs. She was in the back, behind curtain-covered glass. IVs in her arms. Wires taped to her head and her chest.

“Hey, Mama.” She looked so tiny, and so fragile, lying there. Gingerly, Billy wrapped his arms around her. “I love you.”

“Ungh.” Her left arm remained still, but her right hand patted his back.

“You scared the shit outta me.”

She smacked him for swearing, and pulling away, he laughed.

Yeah, she’s all right.

Jake and her brother each took a turn to lean in and kiss her. Justin sat by her side, combing his fingers through her hair, and she motioned to their father. He handed her a pad of paper and a pen.

I’m going to learn to talk again.

By the time you get married.

I promise.

She loathed the month of February. It was the worst goddamn month of the year. Tax season. Calving season. Come to think of it, March wasn’t so great either, but it warmed up some at least.

Emily threw a frozen dinner in the microwave, leaned on the counter, and sighed. Her mom was at her office in town, where she’d stay until fuck knows when. Arien was happy at home, making vlog posts and getting fat, and Shiloh, due to have her baby any day now, was busy…nesting.

Yeah, that’s what she said.

When the boys weren’t up at the ranch pulling calves or mucking in cowpoo, they were at home, doting on Carrie. Not that Emily begrudged them for it. She didn’t. At all. They loved their mama; if anything, it proved what good men they were. Of course, she already knew that. Besides, wouldn’t she do the same for hers?

It’s just that it was February—no, scratch that—almost March, and she missed seeing their faces a whole heck of a lot.

The microwave signaled her dinner was done. Emily tossed it onto the island, burning her finger in the process, and sat down to eat it.

She poked at what the package said was Salisbury steak. It resembled a hockey puck covered in… “Shit. It looks like shit.”

“Probably tastes like it, too.”

Startled, she screamed, and throwing her fork up in the air, she turned around. “Jake? Jesus, Jake, you scared me.”

“I’m sorry. Didn’t mean to.” But he was laughing. Then he handed her a white paper bag. “I brought you dinner.”

“Harry’s?”

“Wednesday’s meatloaf special,” he said with a wink, his arms coming around her. “Mashed potatoes, mushroom gravy, and a slice of cherry pie.”

“I got your cherry pie right here, cowboy.” Emily licked her lips, and sliding her hands inside the back pockets of his jeans, she pulled him close against her.

Warm breath fanned her face, his lips skating across her skin. “Yes, you do.”

And gazing into eyes of liquid metal, those perfect lips found hers. Effortlessly, his tongue slipped inside as fingers pressed into her spine, holding their bodies together. One kiss and the winter blues went out the window. They might come back again tomorrow, but even if it was just for tonight, she’d take it.

She nuzzled into his neck, taking comfort in his warmth, the familiar scent of his skin. “You’re stayin’ to have supper with me, aren’t you?”

“I wish I could, but I have to get up to the ranch. I’m already late.” With his fingers trailing through her hair, he kissed her crown. “I wanted to come see you, even if it was just for a minute.”

“I miss you.” She expected as much, but hoped they’d have a little longer.

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