Page 21 of Beau
I nodded. Unless Trig, Cam, or Colt texted, no one sitting here knew that Junior had been drugged. That Mr. Wilder may have been hurt by something–or someone–besides a horse. I wasn’t going to tell them. It wasn’t my place and I alsodidn’t have any updates. I wasn’t dropping a bomb like that without answers to back it up.
“The Wilder family?” a doctor called.
Mrs. Wilder’s head whipped up and she quickly stood. The brothers rose in sync with her. She took Buck’s hand as the doctor approached.
She was a woman in her fifties wearing blue scrubs, a white doctor’s coat and a stethoscope around her neck. She wasn’t frowning, so I took it as a good sign.
“Nora,” Mrs. Wilder said. Of course, she knew the doctor personally.
The woman seemed to have a backbone of steel, the strength of it tested by having eight boys–and one wild daughter. But her husband had been hurt and I had a feeling some of her strength came from him.
“He’s got swelling on the brain,” the doc said.
“Oh, God,” Mrs. Wilder whispered and Buck wrapped an arm around her shoulders.
“We’ve put him in a medically induced coma to give his body time to bring the swelling down. While it sounds serious, we have no reason to believe there are any underlying issues. You know Charlie, if we didn’t knock him out, he wouldn’t stay in bed long enough to heal.”
That made Mrs. Wilder smile, even if it wobbled.
“The damage is from a nice bump on the back of his head.” The doctor touched a spot behind her right ear. “One that matched the one you had on the front just last week.”
Mrs. Wilder touched her forehead where she’d been hit with a can of beans, of all things, from Bray’s crazy stalker.
“We don’t offer a punch card, you know,” Nora–I didn’t know her last name–said, eyeing all of the brothers. The boys grinned a little sheepishly.
“No heart attack, stroke concerns, or anything. He’s got a disposition of an ornery mule when conscious, so that’s not surprising. It appears he was also stepped on by the horse, on his thigh,” she continued. “A huge bruise will be there for a while, but nothing is broken. All things considered, he’s stable. He’ll be headed to the ICU in a bit and we’ll keep him sedated for at least twenty-four hours, but he’ll be back to running the roost soon enough.”
“You mean Ma will let him think he does,” Lainey countered.
Buck pulled his mom into a hug.
“Let’s get you back to see him,” the doc said.
Buck let his mother go and Nora tucked her arm through Mrs. Wilder’s and led her toward the closed doors that separated the ER from the waiting area. She tapped her badge and the doors swung open. She looked back. “All of you, for a short time. Come on.”
In one big group, we followed the doctor into one of the ER rooms. One wall was all glass with a sliding door, which was opened. An ugly pale blue curtain was pulled to offer some privacy. The scent of antibacterial soap clung to the air. Other than the sound of beeping machines, it was quiet.
There, hooked up to all kinds of wires, tubes, and machines was Mr. Wilder. His Stetson rested on a chair beside him. Mrs. Wilder went right to his side, leaned down and gave his cheek a kiss. The brothers fanned out around the bed. Lainey stayed with me, content in my arms, at the foot of it. I kissed the top of her head. I could only imagine how she felt seeing her father laid low like this and I hoped to hell Colt would figure out what the fuck happened.
12
LAINEY
Beau didn’t leavemy side after he arrived at the hospital. Not while we were allowed to see Pops for a few minutes. Not that night when we went to Cam’s vet clinic, where Cam had taken Junior from the arena in the trailer to be monitored for the effects of the drug cocktail. Or after, when he drove me home, since I’d ridden in the ambulance with Pops. Or in the shower. Or in my bed.
Or even the next morning when he drove me back to the hospital to visit my still-sedated father.
Ma had been set up with a recliner in Pops’ room. Even though it was the ICU, he had a largeamount of visitors. I could only imagine the hospital staff was ready to have him better so the section quieted down.
Currently wedged into the small room surrounding Pops’ bed was Ma, Colt, Molly in her scrubs and doctor’s coat, Bray, Katie, Ellie, Trig, and a nurse I didn’t recognize who was fiddling with a machine in the corner.
On the wheeled table was a plate of cookies with the foil pulled back, a small bouquet of flowers and a thermos filled with what smelled like coffee.
Tears welled in my eyes when I saw Pops still unconscious. I knew it was temporary and that they were giving his brain time to heal, but I was far from patient. I wanted to hear him call me his pumpkin and I wanted a hug.
I looked to Colt. “Any updates?” While he had to handle Pops being hurt, he still had to hunt down the fucking bad guy. I had no idea when I left with Pops in the ambulance that someone had intentionally hurt him. And Junior. It made sense, though. Junior was always eager to run, but gentle. And Pops was far from old or sick.
“When he wakes, we’ll get his story,” Colt said, tipping his head to Pops.
