Page 43 of Mad About Her Cowboys

Connor grabbed Franklin around the waist, holding him back when he ignored the officer.

“Is it Madison?” Franklin demanded, struggling to get free. “Is it Madison?”

“Fuck!” the man swore as he got to the upturned vehicle. He pressed the radio receiver clipped to his shoulder. “I need two ambulances on 59, five miles north of town. Possible fatality. Contact Robert Daly about bringing his chopper in. We need quick transport to the hospital in Gillette.”

Clicking off, he glanced up at the two brothers, shook his head then turned back to the car.

“No,” Franklin screamed. “No.”

“Fuck. No,” Connor panted, still not letting go. Both their knees buckled as Joe pulled Madison from the wreckage.

* * * *

What was that beeping? Gah. Her head hurt. Everything hurt.

“Shh, stay still,” a quiet voice murmured beside her. Madison forced her eyes open, squinting in the dim light that was still too bright.

“River?” she whispered, realizing her friend was holding her hand, her head leaned against Mads’ arm. IV lines and wires ran all over her, down to her chest, taped to her arms. “What…?”

River gasped. “Oh my gosh, you really are awake. You’ve been so restless but didn’t wake. For so long.”

“What happened?” she rasped. Her throat was so dry. It hurt to talk.

“The guys just stepped out for a second. They’re talking to your doctor.”

“Martin?”

“Dead.”

Madison took a few breaths, digesting the info. She wasn’t happy for the life lost, but she wasn’t mournful for the loss either. He’d been an awful person. The whole while they’d been in the car he’d talked about what he planned to do to her—after he “cut that bastard out of” her. That he was a doctor and he knew how. And he’d laughed, fully under his sadistic god complex. He’d been cackling when the car had lost control. They’d careened into a ditch. She’d slammed into the dash then the door.

It was the last she remembered.

“The baby!” she gasped, her hand going to her belly. Her flat belly. “No!”

“Hey, hey, hey. It’s okay,” River tried to soothe her. Her hand brushed back Madison’s hair, gently stroking like she would a child.

“No, it’s not,” Madison wailed. “The baby—”

“Honey, Mandy’s okay.”

“What? But she’s… I’m…” Madison’s hand ran over her stomach again. Her head shook back and forth weakly.

“You’ve been in a coma. It was a miracle, but she survived the accident. The doctors delivered her last week. Not quite full-term but healthy enough. C-section.”

“Where is she?”

“With her daddy. You dark horse. You didn’t tell me you and Franklin got together at Moon’s wedding.”

Was that the story? “Surprise,” she said weakly.

“Riv,” Franklin said, coming into the room with Connor. A baby was cradled to the first man’s shoulder. Her fiancé… One of her fiancés. And her baby girl.”

“Mandy,” Madison whispered.

“Look who’s awake,” River sobbed, her emotions emerging now that the others had arrived and she didn’t have to be strong. She stood to give them room to approach, wiping her eyes.

“Oh my God! Call the doctor,” Franklin yelled.

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