Page 87 of All Along The Watchtower

Dr. Mitchell tucked her tablet under her arm. “I need to check on my other patients, but the nurses will page me if anything changes.” She touched my shoulder. “Try to get some rest yourself. You look exhausted.”

Not exactly flattering, given I’d actually been home and slept. But the sleep hadn’t been actual rest—just fitful tossing and turning, punctuated by anxiety-fueled nightmares. I managed a nod, holding myself together until she disappeared around the corner, her footsteps fading down the sterile hospitalcorridor. Then my legs gave out, my whole body trembling with exhaustion now that the wave of excitement had passed.

Ford caught me before I hit the floor, gathering me against his chest with those strong, steady arms. The dam broke. Two weeks of terror and stress and hoping poured out in great, heaving sobs I couldn’t control. I buried my face in his shirt, clutching handfuls of the fabric as the tears came, my whole body shaking with the force of my relief and fear and bone-deep weariness. That salt and sandalwood scent surrounded me as I finally let myself fall apart.

“I’ve got you.” His breath was warm against my scalp. “Let it out. He’s gonna be okay. You did everything right.”

My whole body shook, wracked with sobs I couldn’t contain. “I was so scared. When he collapsed, I thought…” I couldn’t finish, the words catching in my throat as fresh tears spilled down my cheeks. The memory of Pop’s face going slack, his body crumpling, was still too raw.

“I know.” His arms tightened around me, one hand moving in slow, soothing circles against my back. “But you heard the doctor. He’s already being a smartass about us. That’s our Ed. He’s too damn stubborn to let this keep him down for long.”

A wet laugh escaped me. “We’re never going to hear the end of it.”

“Wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Ford held me until the storm passed, until my breathing steadied and the tears slowed to occasional hiccups.

When I finally lifted my head, his shirt was soaked. “Sorry about that.”

He brushed the tears from my cheeks with his thumbs. “Don’t apologize. You’ve been holding that in for two weeks.”

“I had to stay strong. For Pop.”

“And now you can let go a little. He’s coming back to us.”

I sagged against him, suddenly bone weary. “Yeah. He is.”

Ford’s thumb traced along my jaw. “Let me take you to dinner. You haven’t eaten since breakfast.”

“I’m not really hungry.” The words came automatically, though my stomach chose that moment to growl in protest.

“Yeah, that’s convincing.” He pressed a kiss to my temple. “Come on. We’ll grab a hotel for the night, get some proper food in you.”

“But Peyton?—”

“Is having the time of her life with Willa and Sawyer. She texted me pictures of the dogs earlier.” His phone appeared, showing Peyton sprawled on the floor between Roy and Keeley, her face split in a wide grin. “We can figure out longer term arrangements tomorrow, but for tonight, she’s good.”

I studied his face, searching for any hint of uncertainty. “You’re sure?”

“Bree.” His hands framed my face. “I know you’re used to taking care of everyone else. But let me take care of you for once. Okay?”

The tender concern in his voice undid me. I nodded, not trusting myself to speak.

“Good.” He grabbed our coats from the visitors’ chairs. “I know this great little Mexican place downtown. Real food, not hospital cafeteria mystery meat.”

“Sounds perfect.” I paused long enough to brush a kiss to Pop’s weathered cheek. “I’ll be back tomorrow. Love you.”

Then I let Ford guide me toward the elevator.

CHAPTER 40

FORD

Ed was more lucid today. His eyes tracked between Bree and me, his expression shrewd despite the lingering effects of medication. “So, I didn’t dream that. You two are speakin’ again.”

One corner of Bree’s mouth hooked up. “Yeah, we are.”

His gaze shifted to me. “Reckon since you’re here with my girl again, you two finally got your heads straight and are doin’ more than speakin’.”

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