Page 75 of His Fresh Start Cowboy
“Should someone call Colt?” Rem asked. “Shouldn’t he know what’s going on?”
“We’ll call him when we know something about Brand,” Wayne said. “No sense in him worrying when he’s so far away.”
“Okay.”
They haunted the waiting room for what felt like an eternity of pacing and wondering, until a tall man in scrubs approached their group. “The bottle nicked part of his large intestine,” the doctor said. “Which is why we had to operate. We repaired the damage and stitched up his other wounds. He’s been given antibiotics to prevent any sort of infection. With a couple weeks’ rest, he should be fine.”
Hugo sank into the nearest chair and dropped his face into his palms. Brand would be okay. He’d hate the idea of taking a few weeks off to recover but Hugo would tie him to his bed to keep Brand from overexerting while he healed. Rem sat next to him and slung an arm across Hugo’s shoulders. Hugo side-hugged his friend, both of them trembling slightly from relief and joy. The sisters were hugging their mom. Wayne spoke to the doctor for a few more minutes before the doctor left.
“Brand will be in Recovery for about an hour,” Wayne said. “Once he’s in a regular room, we can see him. But only briefly, since it’s way past visiting hours.”
“He is one lucky son of a bitch,” Rem said.
“God was watching over my boy tonight.” Wayne briefly met Hugo’s eyes. “He was looking over all of us. If y’all can excuse me, I’ll call Colt and let him know what’s going on.” He moved to the other side of the waiting room.
It took forever for a nurse to collect them and lead them to Brand’s room. One at a time, first the parents, and then the siblings, went inside to see Brand for a minute or two, mostly to reassure themselves that Brand was alive and well. Hugo went last, his insides squirrely. They hadn’t seen Brand bloody and broken, but he had.
Brand smiled so brightly at him that Hugo’s entire body wanted to collapse into a grateful heap. Somehow he approached the bed and perched on the side. Brand reached out and Hugo took his hand. Squeezed it, then kissed the knuckles. “You could have gotten yourself killed tonight,” he whispered.
“Worth it to save you.” His smile was bright, but his voice was brittle and exhausted. “Buck?”
“In custody where he belongs. Don’t worry about him tonight. You need to rest and get better.”
“Do my best.” He looked at Hugo’s bruised knuckles. “You okay?”
“I am now. Your dad’s been...kind to me all night. Not to say I’m glad you got stabbed or anything, but I think maybe he’ll come around to us.”
“I hope so. Also realized tonight I didn’t care if he did. When I saw Buck threatening you...it wasn’t even a choice. I love you, Hugo Turner, and I don’t even care who knows.”
Warmth spread through Hugo’s chest, and he leaned down. Held eye contact. “I love you, too.” He brushed his lips over Brand’s, sealing their declarations with a gentle kiss. They’d have plenty of time for bigger kisses later. Right now, all that mattered was Brand would recover, they’d declared their love, and they had the strength to face whatever came next.
As long as they did it together.
Bed rest was the absolute worst thing in the world, and Brand was a terrible patient on his best day, never mind when he had a dozen stitches in his gut and orders to stay still for the first few days at home. While he could stomach peeing in a bottle, he refused to use a bedpan for other business, so he still managed getting up and moving around once a day.
Mom was a gem, bringing him cold drinks and food. His siblings all came by frequently, especially Sage. Rem and Hugo came by together once with beef jerky and Beaver Nuggets from their favorite service plaza, which filled Brand with all kinds of warm memories. He Skyped with Colt a few times, happy to see his big brother’s face even over pixels. Dad checked in multiple times a day but they never brought up the bisexual thing, or his romantic relationship with Hugo.
Hugo visited as often as seemed appropriate, since they hadn’t come out as a couple to anyone except Dad. Brand treasured the visits. They made his days seem less boring, less dreary. Hugo reminded him of sunshine and fresh air and all the things Brand loved about being outdoors. Sometimes they watched movies together on Brand’s office laptop; sometimes all they did was exist together in comfortable silence, holding hands until someone else made the floorboards creak.
Ramie visited him a few times, and so did Jackson. Neither teased him about his hero complex, for which Brand was grateful. He simply enjoyed time with his two best friends (aside from Hugo, of course).
Buck was cooling his heels in county jail for various assault charges against both Brand and Hugo. When Hugo detailed the things Buck had said and done, Brand had wanted to storm down to the jail and beat Buck for daring to assault his boyfriend. Buck had serious issues to work through, but he’d also hurt someone Brand loved, so part of him still wanted the guy to rot. The empathetic part of Brand hoped that, after his next stint in prison, Buck got the help he needed.
Even though Buck never admitted to stealing Elmer’s coins and planting them in the trailer, Hugo reported to Brand that Elmer had come by the ranch to apologize for what had happened that night. Hugo had graciously accepted the apology, but had yet to return to the man’s house for puzzles or chess. Some hurts took longer to get over, Brand expected.
Josiah stopped by one afternoon to check on him, and Brand expressed his gratitude for Josiah being there that night. His help until the paramedics arrived. “I was in the right place at the right time,” Josiah said. “I’m glad you’re on the mend.”
A kind of sadness seemed to lurk in the young nurse, but Brand didn’t ask about it. They were barely acquaintances, much less friends. Josiah did, however, take a peek at his stitches and suggest Brand should be fine for light movements. That got Brand a spot on the couch the next day, so he was able to see and experience more. Mom still hovered, which was fine, and at lunchtime, they picnicked in the living room with Dad, Rem, Hugo, and Jackson.
Brutus was around for it all, too. His faithful, furry friend.
Roughly ten days after the attack, Brand was channel surfing midafternoon when Dad came in the house. Instead of going upstairs or into the kitchen, he sat in the chair next to the sofa Brand was stretched out on. Dad took his hat off and worried it in his fingers for so long Brand muted the TV.
This is it. This is the conversation.
“I’m sorry it’s taken me this long to talk to you,” Dad said. “I wanted to be sure of my feelings and not just react from stress.”
“Okay.” Brand’s mouth went dry but he couldn’t seem to reach for his lemonade.
