Page 69 of The Texas Sterling Collection
“Wyl, dismount.” I tugged at Wyl’s arm. He hoisted one leg and slid off the saddle. He stood still, dazed. I pulled him over to my truck and opened the passenger door.
“Climb in.” I helped Wyl in and buckled his seat belt. He trembled and gasped for breath.
“Wyl…breathe,” I said.
Wyl wrapped his arms around me, seatbelt and all. “I’m so scared. I need Walt to be okay. Will you stay with me at the hospital?”
I wrapped my arms around Wyl, offering as much support as possible. I would stay with him as long as he needed me. “Yes, but you need to let go so I can drive us to the hospital.”
Wyl loosened his embrace and whispered, "I don’t know what I would do without you.”
I closed the door and raced to the driver’s side. I fired up the engine and tore down the ranch road, fastening my seat belt as I drove. On the highway, I accelerated hard, reaching 90 in less than a minute.
Wyl reached for my hand, and I threaded our fingers together and held on tight. In fifteen minutes, we parked at the hospital.
Wyl leaned against the emergency room counter. “I’m Walt Sterling’s brother. The helicopter brought him in. I need to know how he is.”
The nurse checked her computer. “The doctors are with him now. Take a seat, and I’ll inform them you’re here. The doctor will speak with you after he's stabilized.”
We sat, and Wyl let his head fall against the wall to stare at the ceiling. “My only brother is lying in there somewhere. I need to be with him. I need to know.” He jumped out of his seat and started frantic pacing.
I stood and touched his shoulder. “Babe, come sit with me. I understand your worry, but wearing yourself out pacing won’t help Walt.” I pulled him back to our seats and sat next to him. “Lean against me and put your head on my shoulder.”
He looked at me, sighed, gripped my hand like a lifeline, and rested his head on my shoulder. “Thank you. I couldn’t deal with this without you.”
“I’ll always be here, Wyl. I love you.”
The tension of the morning got to him. His breathing evened out, and Wyl dropped into a light sleep. I remained awake, listening to his breathing and praying for Walt to recover.
The passage of time didn’t register. I focused on Wyl and being the rock for him to lean against while we dealt with the tragedy of Walt’s accident. A doctor came through the double doors and approached. “Mr. Sterling?”
Wyl jerked awake, still holding my hand. “Yes?”
I glanced at my watch. It was 2:00 in the afternoon.
“I’m Dr. Nelson.” The doctor knelt in front of us. “Your brother suffered a serious head injury. We’re transferring him to ICU until the brain swelling goes down so we can assess possible damage. To help his body heal, we put him in an induced coma.”
“Will he recover?” Wyl’s voice faltered.
“It’s too early to assess any long-term damage,” Dr. Nelson said. “At this point, his vitals are good. We’ll know more tomorrow.”
Wyl took a deep breath. I could tell he tried to keep his emotions under control. I knew what the doctor didn't say and why he couldn’t give any promising news. My tension ramped up ten notches at the wordsbrain swellingandpossible damageandinduced coma. Those sounded serious. My thoughts turned to the real possibility that Walt might not make it. I did not practice religion, but I prayed for a miraculous recovery. For Wyl. For me.
“When can I see him?” The tremor in Wyl’s voice said everything. He also knew what the doctor didn't say.
“Give us time to transfer and settle him. Come to the ICU at 5:00.”
Wyl sighed. “What can you tell me about his chances?”
Doctor Nelson stood and slid his hands into his white-coat pockets. “I can tell you the injury is serious. We won’t know the extent until the brain swelling goes down. It should happen overnight, then we can bring him out of the coma and check for damage. If damage occurred, we'll determine what brain functions are affected and what resulting therapy will help.”
Wyl buried his face in my neck and sobbed.
I nodded at Dr. Nelson. “Thank you.” The doctor walked away.
I wrapped my arms around Wyl to comfort him and let my own tears fall. After a few minutes, I stroked Wyl’s hair and tugged at his braid, then pulled the handkerchief from my pocket and offered it to him. “Let’s go for a walk. We both need fresh air.”
Wyl nodded, took the handkerchief, and wiped his eyes.
