Page 8 of Heart Like a Cowboy

“I’ll get some water,” Dalton offered. “Anyone want any coffee?”

They all conveyed a no through headshakes, murmurs and waves of their hands. None of them would want the water, either, but that didn’t stop Dalton from going to the small fridge in the nurses’ station and coming back with bottles for all of them.

Egan took the bottle offered to him but didn’t open it. “Shit,” he ground out. Groaning, he put his hand to one side of his head, the bottle to the other, and he pressed hard. “This is my fault.”

Alana didn’t bother to argue with him even though she seriously doubted he’d been the cause of his father’s heart attack. Lots of factors could go into that. She knew because she often worked with recovering heart attack patients to help them adjust their diet if that had, indeed, been a contributing factor.

“I don’t think I can do this again,” Egan said, his voice a hoarse whisper.

She didn’t believe he was actually talking to her, but Alana heard the bone-deep emotion in each word. And knew he wasn’t just talking about his dad. This was about watching his mom die.

And Jack, of course.

It was always about Jack.

About the what-ifs and what might have been if they could go back in time and change what had happened. Change one little thing that would have allowed Jack to live.

Egan had never come out and confirmed that he felt that raw, bitter guilt. The guilt that came in smothering, soul-crushing waves. Over and over again. Still, she recognized the signs of that kind of guilt because she had firsthand knowledge of it. Added to that, Alana knew something that he didn’t.

Egan wasn’t the reason Jack was dead.

She was.

CHAPTER THREE

THEEMOTIONSWEREcrashing into Egan like out of control bumper cars, and three words kept repeating in his head.

Massive heart attack.

Egan had never personally known anyone who’d had a heart attack, but he knew that Grammy Effie’s husband had died from one years ago, even before Egan had been born. Since that grandfather had been on Egan’s mom’s side of the family, then what his dad was dealing with wasn’t genetic. And Egan had no idea why that thought was swirling around with all the others.

“Why don’t we all go to my office?” he heard Alana suggest. “It’s small, but there’s a sofa that’ll be more comfortable than these chairs.”

Egan shook his head. “I want to be here when the doctor comes back.”

Alana laid her hand on his shoulder. “I can let Dalton know where we’ll be, and it’s the same distance from my office to ICU as it is from here.”

Egan was about to do another headshake, but the ER doors swished open again, and he saw several people hurrying in. Hank Gonzales, Betty Garner and Louis Cantrell. Friends and acquaintances of his dad. That’s when it hit Egan that others would come.

Lots and lots of others.

And while Egan was appreciative of the care and concern they’d all be doling out, he just wasn’t steady enough to deal with that right now.

He stood, and that must have been the only cue Alana needed because she hurried to Dalton to let him know where they’d be. Effie stood, too, and she greeted the newcomers. Egan managed a quick greeting as well. Barely managed it, and he hoped he didn’t have to do more until he’d tried to wrap his head around what the hell had just happened to his dad.

“I’ll join you in a minute or two,” Effie told them when Alana began to lead Egan out of the waiting room.

Egan stopped, holding his ground and assessing the situation since he didn’t want Effie bogged down with anything that was going to make this more stressful for her. But Effie gave him a quick reassuring glance and mouthed, “Go.”

He still hesitated until he realized that Effie seemed to be steady enough. In fact, it appeared she was actually glad the worriers and well-wishers were there. Maybe because they gave her a kind of distraction. But Egan didn’t want any of that. He needed to face this head-on, needed to figure out what he was dealing with and see if he could fix it.

Three years ago, before Jack had died, Egan wouldn’t have added that “if he could” to the mental mix of what he had to do. He’d believed he was capable of fixing any and everything. Obviously, he’d been wrong. And that cockiness had led to Jack’s death. Probably to Colleen leaving him, too, since he obviously hadn’t fixed whatever the heck had been wrong in his marriage.

He followed Alana out of the waiting room and to the hall that led to the clinics. Her office was the first one, and after fishing through her bag to retrieve her keys, she opened the door.

She’d been right about two things. It was small and there was a sofa, which did look more comfortable than any chair in the waiting room. After seeing it, though, Egan figured the comfort would be wasted on him. But at least in here he wouldn’t have to maintain a military bearing. Well, not fully.

It quickly occurred to Egan, though, that he might have traded the frying pan for the fire since he now found himself alone with Alana. Great. He’d avoided her for years, and now he’d seen her twice in the same day.

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