Page 64 of The Sound of Sleighbells

“When the ambulance goes, we’ll follow it in the car. Don’t worry. I won’t leave you.”

“What about Butch?”

“He can stay in the house till Abner gets home.”

“Mommy, is Skip going to die?” Tammy asked.

Ruth felt the words knife through her heart. “Of course not, dear,” she forced herself to say. “The doctors and nurses will take good care of him. Now be still while I call the sheriff.”

Hands shaking, she punched in the number. As expected, it was Helen Wilkerson who answered the phone. Struggling to stay calm, Ruth told her what had happened.

“Oh, honey!” Helen said. “The sheriff is at the parade. I’ll radio him.”

“Ask him to let Judd know—but to keep it from Abner till after the parade—oh, and somebody will need to take Abner home.”

“I understand. Don’t worry. I’ll get word to the right people. You focus on your boy.”

After the call, Ruth hugged her girls, pulled a quilt off one of the beds, and rushed back to the barn. She found Skip just as she’d left him, breathing but unconscious. Summoning her courage, she covered him with the quilt and lay down beside him to wait for the sound of sirens.

* * *

Judd was seated on the driver’s bench, waiting for Abner to come and be helped into the sleigh, when Buck found him. “I’ve got some news for you, Judd,” the sheriff said. “Come over by the cruiser where we can talk.”

“Is something wrong?” Judd asked.

Buck nodded. “Helen just passed on a call from Ruth. Skip took a blow to the head at Abner’s place. He’s unconscious. Ruth is waiting for the ambulance to take him to Cottonwood Springs. She wanted you to know.”

It took a few seconds for the words to sink in. When they did, they triggered a sense of urgency that bordered on panic. He glanced toward the empty driver’s bench on the sleigh. Right now, all he wanted was to be with Ruth and their son.

Buck seemed to read his mind. “Do what you need to, Judd. I can drive the sleigh and have my deputy handle the crowds. Cooper and Jess can get Abner home. Just go. Be with your boy.”

Your boy, he’d said.

“Buck, how long have you known that Skip was my son?” he asked.

“Hell, Judd, this is Branding Iron. Half the town knows. And when word gets out that he’s in the hospital, as it will, they’ll be sending up prayers. Now get going.”

As Judd sprinted for his truck, he heard the wail of distant sirens. Skip and Ruth would be on their way to the hospital by the time he reached Abner’s. His best bet was to head straight to Cottonwood Springs and meet them there.

Skip . . . unconscious . . . The words didn’t go together. The thought that he might lose his son was almost paralyzing. He started the truck, honking his horn as he roared out of the crowded parking lot. Moments later, he was flying up the road to Cottonwood Springs.

* * *

Skip was still unresponsive when they unloaded him at the emergency entrance. That wasn’t good, Ruth knew. If his injury had been no more than a slight concussion, he would have opened his eyes by now. The ER nurse shooed Ruth and her daughters through the swinging doors and into the waiting room. They sat in orange plastic chairs, the girls fidgeting, Ruth growing quietly frantic as the minutes crawled past. Just when she felt she was about to break, a tall figure strode in from the entrance.

“I got here as soon as I could,” Judd said. “How is he?”

“We don’t know. We’re waiting to hear.” She rose from her chair and walked into his arms. They held each other fiercely tight, drawing comfort from each other’s strength. The girls gazed at them as if not knowing what to expect.

Judd opened the space between himself and Ruth. “Come on in, you two,” he said, reaching out to them. “What we need right now is a group hug.”

With the girls in the middle, the four of them all hugged together. Tears welled in Ruth’s eyes. How could she have believed that Judd would never accept her daughters? He had proven her wrong again and again.

A balding man in scrubs walked through the swinging doors. “I take it you’re the boy’s family.”

“What can you tell us?” Fear tightened cold fingers around Ruth’s throat, making the words come out as a hoarse whisper.

“His vital signs are normal,” the doctor said. “Aside from some bruising, there’s no apparent damage to the skull. It’s safe to say that he has a concussion, but we don’t know how much damage there is. The main concern is that he’s still unconscious. I’m going to admit him. If he’s not awake by morning, I’ll order a CT scan.”

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