Page 97 of Eight Second Hearts

“That lucky duck,” I say between laughter, wiping tears from my eyes that are both from joy and left over from the worry about him. Relief fills me as I hand the metal lighter to Ram to inspect.

“No manches,” he breathes, turning it over in his hand. There’s a large dent in the front of it that renders it useless now, but I’d say it’s done its job.

“That was in his coat pocket,” the doctor says. “I’ve seen a lot of crazy things, but this definitely takes the cake. That man has a guardian angel.”

“Or a lucky duck,” I muse, smiling at him. “Can we see him?”

The doctor nods. “He’s waking up now. We’ll come get you when he’s ready.”

It takes twenty minutes for them to come get us and I bounce on the balls of my feet in anticipation until they do. When a nurse finally comes out to escort us, we follow her back to a small room. The moment we walk inside, I get a good look at Beau in the hospital bed.

He looks groggy, his eyes half-lidded and his head tipped back against the lifted up mattress. When we walk in, he lifts his head, a crooked grin splitting his lips.

“Just who I was hopin’ to see,” he says, his words a little slurred. “Indie bird, I’ve always wanted to have sex in a hospital. Quick! Take off your clothes!”

I laugh even as the nurse shakes her head in amusement. “He’s got strong enough drugs in him to knock out a horse right now,” she offers as explanation. “Try not to hold anything he says against him.”

“Hold everythin’ against me,” Beau argues. “You hush, Linda. Don’t spoil my fun.” He points to the nurse. “This is Linda, you guys. She saved my life.”

“That would be Doctor Hayes, darlin’,” she says, patting his arm.

Beau shakes his head. “You and I both know you do all the work around here,” he declares, not trying to be quiet. He turns back to me and wiggles his eyebrows lazily. “I’m wearing a hospital gown, Indie bird. Easy access.”

I rush over to the bed and throw my arms around him, happy tears flowing from my eyes. Despite it all, Beau is still just Beau. He’s alive. And he’ll be okay. And everything. . . even if things are still bad, still crazy, it doesn’t matter.

He’s alive.

He wraps his arms around me tightly, holding on. “It’s okay, Indie bird,” he murmurs. “I love you, too.”

Tripp walks over and Beau reaches his hand out. Tripp immediately launches into a complicated handshake that poor groggy Beau can’t keep up with. “Come on, man,” Tripp says. “Your inability to learn complicated handshakes is tearing this gang apart.”

Beau laughs and tips his head back before Tripp grins and leans down to hug him despite me still wrapped in his arms.

“I’m glad you’re okay.”

“Yeah,wey,” Ram says roughly, coming over to squeeze his shoulder. “We can’t have you dyin’ on us. It wouldn’t be fair.”

Beau tugs us all in for a big bear hug. Linda sees us and slips out, giving us time to actually enjoy the moment. Beau lifts up his head the second the door closes behind her.

“Quick,” he says. “She’s gone. Everyone get naked!”

Our laughter fills the room, and all is good in this world.

At least for now. . .

Chapter 54

Indie

The farmer’s market is in full swing, the residents of Steele meandering up and down Main Street as they peruse the items for sale today. There’s a distinct lack of fresh produce, at least as much as there was before because of the snow we’d gotten, but there’s at least one booth that has their new hydroponic-grown veggies and fruits that’s making a killing. I’d said hi to Fable again briefly before I’d wandered back down the road.

There’s a bag sitting next to me. Inside it is a jar of cherry moonshine. I’d finally met Naomi, and I understand why everyone just buys her moonshine despite not really liking it. It’s difficult to tell the bright sunshine of a woman no. She’s too sweet.

The large bronze statue mocks me, and something about it rubs me the wrong way. Maybe it’s because I know the man that continues his legacy. Maybe it’s because I love that man. Either way, I know the man immortalized in bronze doesn’t deserve to be there, not if you look at what kind of person he was. But his rodeo stats put this place on the map, and no one reallyknows how cruel he was to his son and his grandson. No one understands, and I can’t exactly explain it to them.

Tripp doesn’t seem to care one way or the other. He stands twenty feet away, leaning against one of the lampposts while I sit on the bench in the park dedicated to his abusive family legacy. A legacy that bred cruelty. A legacy that the three men I’ve grown to love survived despite it all.

Beau is back at Maria’s booth, on light duty and forced to relax so he can heal. Ram is helping his mom with her tamale sales, doing all the heavy lifting so Beau doesn’t get it in his head to do something crazy.

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