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“Of course. She’s sleeping.”
“I just wanted to let you know we’re responding to a call in Pecan Grove. EMTs requested for a Ronald Caldwell.”
My grip on the phone tightened. “Blue’s dad?”
“With the same last name, I’m assuming so. Figured you should know, just in case.”
He gave me the address, and I didn’t need to look it up. I’d memorized her file weeks ago. My pulse kicked hard as I ended the call and moved fast for the bedroom.
She was out cold, so deep in sleep she barely reacted when I said her name. I crouched beside the bed, keeping my voice calm but firm. “Blue.”
She mumbled something that almost sounded like words and rolled onto her back while I slid my suit pants on and a dress shirt before crouching back down.
“Blue, baby.” My hands framed her face, thumbs brushing her skin. “Easton just called. There’s been an emergency at your dad’s house. We need to go.”
That broke through the fog. She was on her feet in seconds, yanking on tiny shorts and a paper-thin tank top. I didn’t bother with my suit jacket, just draped it over her shoulders as I steered her toward the truck.
On the road, she called her dad. No answer. When she tried again there was still nothing. Each time, her voice got tighter, her breathing quicker.
“Hey.” I reached over, catching her chin, guiding her eyes to mine for as long as the road allowed. “I got you. Everything’s gonna be okay. Don’t panic.”
I let go of her chin, grabbing her hand that trembled in mine, so I lifted it to my lips and kissed her knuckles, holding them there for a beat longer than necessary.
Once we hit the main highway, I pushed the truck as fast as I could without losing control. The night blurred past the windows, the empty parking lot of Fiddlers flashing by, and then we were in Pecan Grove. Both of us were clinging to the hope that when we got there, everything would still be okay.
Chapter Forty-Five
BLUE
When we pulledinto my driveway, my stomach dropped. Lisa and Easton were standing out front, waiting. Lisa shouldn’t have been there. Her shift had ended hours ago.
I didn’t wait for West before jumping out of the truck and running straight to them, my voice high and tight. “Where’s my dad? Is he okay?”
Lisa took a breath, but her face was pale and she looked shaken. “He was so tired,” she said softly. “I told him to go to bed and that I’d clean up the kitchen before I left. I just couldn’t make myself go. So I sat on the couch, tried to nap, and checked on him every so often. I must’ve dozed off, because I woke up to him struggling to breathe.”
Her words felt like they were moving underwater. Too slow. So I turned to Easton, desperate for something solid. He touched Lisa’s shoulder to stop her rambling while West slipped an arm around me to steady me.
“Your dad’s already on his way to Piedmont in Atlanta,” Easton said. “They took him by ambulance. He was alert when he left and they had him on oxygen. I told him I’d already called West, that we’d make sure you knew.”
I swallowed hard, trying to breathe around the panic in my chest.
“Come on.” West guided me toward the door. “Get dressed. I’ll take you straight to Atlanta.”
I nodded, but before I went inside, I wrapped Lisa in a tight hug. Tears blurred my eyes. “Thank you for staying. I should’ve been here. Thank you for being here.”
Her voice cracked. “I’ll go to Atlanta and check on him tomorrow.”
By the time I came back, West was pacing the porch with his phone to his ear, Easton and the firefighters were climbing back into their truck, and Lisa wiped her cheeks as she walked alone toward her car.
When I first saw her standing with Easton, I’d been angry. It was ugly and unfair, but I’d wondered if there was another reason she stayed so late. She and Dad weren’t far apart in age, and the last time we’d all had lunch together, I thought maybe I’d seen something between them. It shouldn’t have mattered, but it made something sharp twist inside me.
But seeing her crying, seeing her torn up, it made me realize I wasn’t mad at her, I was mad at myself.
“Lisa!” I called, running past West. I hugged her again, my own lips trembling now. “Do you want to come with us? Ride with West and I tonight to Atlanta?”
She shook her head. “There’s nothing I can do until morning. I’ll head home, pack a bag, and be ready to stay if he needs me.”
I nodded, letting her go, and West caught my hand, leading me to his truck. My dad was alive. Stable. And even though the ambulance ride to Atlanta would be long, he was in good hands.
