The Cowboy and the Cougar (11 page)

Chapter Fourteen

What was taking so damn long?

Holly sat in the ER waiting room and fidgeted with an old
People
magazine.

Jack was in the back with Sam. He’d regained consciousness for a few seconds in the car, said something about a kitty, then had floated back away. He most likely had some broken bones. At least that’s what Holly hoped. Bones could be fixed. If he were bleeding inside....

She couldn’t go there. What would Jack do without his son? What would she do? She’d grown to care for the little boy in just two days. She loved him, just as much as she loved his father.

An hour passed, and then another. The nurse at the reception desk told Holly, very nicely, to please stop asking for an update. She’d tell her something when she knew.

Holly resisted the urge to smack her.

Just as Holly picked up her fifth magazine, Jack, looking like he’d aged a decade, walked into the waiting room.

She rose from her chair, her purse and magazine flopping to the floor. "Jack?"

He sighed. "He’s okay."

She threw her arms around his neck and hugged him close. "Thank God. Come sit with me and tell me what happened."

"I don’t know yet. I haven’t gotten a straight story out of Sam. But he did wake up for a little while. He has a concussion."

Holly nodded. He looked so sad, so forlorn, and yet so relieved. She shared his sentiment.

"His femur’s cracked. The doc was amazed he didn’t have more broken bones. He won’t need surgery, but he’ll wear a cast for a few months. They did an
MRI
and a CT scan." Jack sighed. "No internal bleeding, thank God."

Holly let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding.

"He’s resting now. They have him pretty doped up. He’s gonna be in a lot of pain. The bruises are already forming all over his little body..."

Jack’s voice trailed off and he stared at the white wall of the waiting room. Holly gently cupped his cheek and turned his face to her.

"Will he stay the night?"

"Yeah.
 
I’m stayin’ with him. I can’t leave him alone."

"I understand."

"Could you...?" He sighed. "This is a lot to ask, Holly.

"You can ask me anything."

"Would you mind driving back to the ranch and getting some stuff for me? A change of clothes, my toothbrush, you know."

"Not at all. I’d do anything for you and Sam. I hope you know that."

"I appreciate it."

"Are you hungry? I can get you something."

"No." He rested his elbows on his thighs and cupped his face in his hands. "I can’t eat."

"You should eat something. You probably haven’t eaten since breakfast." She checked her watch. "It’s nearly five."

"Can’t. Not hungry."

"All right." She’d bring him something anyway. "It’s a long drive to your place. I won’t be back for a few hours. Have you called Luisa?"

"No. Would you?"

"Sure."

Holly quickly programmed the number Jack gave her into her cell. "I’ll call her on the way home."

Home? When had she started thinking of Jack’s place as home? He hadn’t said he loved her. She hadn’t told him yet. Now wasn’t the time.

She grabbed her purse and gave the top of his head a kiss. "I’ll be back as soon as I can."

"I should have been with him," Jack mumbled. "I sent him off to eat lunch so I could talk to you. He should have been my first priority."

"Oh, Jack, sweetheart. How many times have you sent Sam off to have lunch?"

He nodded. "I know. And nothing ever happened. But this time...."

Holly smoothed Jack’s rumpled hair. "Don’t blame yourself. Please. He’s going to be all right. Just thank God for that and move on, okay?"

He nodded into his hands. Holly knelt in front of him and lifted his face to meet her gaze. "This isn’t your fault."

It wasn’t. It was hers. It was hers for leaving in the first place, and then coming back. She’d kept his attention away from his son.

No, she couldn’t think like that. It was no one’s fault. Things happen. Her cancer was no one’s fault.

She leaned forward and brushed her lips lightly across his. Maybe this was the time, after all. She thumbed his stubbled cheek, and then kissed him again. "I love you," she whispered against his mouth.

Before he could respond, she escaped the waiting room.

* * * *

He’d murmured a husky "thank you" when she left his bag of clothes and sundries. He’d looked at the container of Italian takeout with glazed eyes, but she’d thrust it into his hands anyway.

"What do you need, Jack?" she’d asked. "I’ll do anything for you. For Sam. I’ll stay here all night if you want."

He’d shaken his head. "Just go home. I need to be alone with my son."

She’d left, her heart in her throat. He hadn’t told her he loved her. Perhaps he didn’t. It served her right, anyway.

Now she sat in front of her computer, staring at the blank Cougar Club chatroom. It was nearing
midnight
on a holiday. Of course no one would be there. They were probably all with their cubs, having a high old time.

Holly drew in a deep breath, flicked off her computer and padded into her bedroom. She flopped onto her bed and cried into the pillow that smelled like Jack.

* * * *

The next few days passed in a fog. Holly went to work, came home and cried herself to sleep. She skipped both her art classes, something she never did. Her heart wasn’t in it.

No word from Jack. She’d tried calling him several times, only to get the endless wails of Glen Campbell. Why didn’t he have voicemail? Didn’t everyone have voicemail these days? Still, she called.

Her mind buzzed with unlikely scenarios. What if Sam had taken a turn for the worse? What if the doctors had been wrong, and he’d been bleeding internally? And they’d found it too late?

Nausea churned in her belly.

Damn it! She loved that little boy, too. Why didn’t Jack at least call her to tell her how Sam was doing?

If Jack had decided to let her go, she could live with that. She had no choice, but she needed to know Sam was okay.

Enough was enough. Friday afternoon, she left her office early and drove home to pack a bag. She was driving out to Jack’s ranch. He might tell her to take a hike, but by God she’d know if he and Sam were all right. Fear gnawed at her during the long drive out of town.

She gathered her courage as she pulled into the long driveway at Jack’s ranch house. Was she sticking her nose in where it didn’t belong? Was his indifference his polite way of telling her to get lost?

She breathed in. It was possible, but it didn’t matter. She had to know Sam was okay.

Leaving her bag in the car—she didn’t want to appear too eager—she trudged to the door and knocked.

She pasted a smiled on her face when Luisa answered.

"Holly,
buenos dias
."

"Hello, Luisa."

Luisa looked behind her. "Where’s Jack?"

"Jack? Why would he be with me?"

Holly craned her neck and peeked behind Luisa into the kitchen. A smiling Sam—his right leg in a full-length blue cast—struggled forward on crutches.

"Holly!" his little voice piped.

"Sit back down,
mijo
," Luisa scolded. "You must take it easy for the first few days. Remember what the doctor said."

Holly rushed past Luisa and knelt in front of Sam. "I’ve been worried sick about you. Are you all right?"

"I’m fine. It doesn’t hurt so much anymore. Daddy gives me pills." He leaned against her and held out one of his crutches. "Aren’t these things neat?"

Holly nodded, a tear forming in the corner of her eye. "Yes, Sam. They are very neat." She pulled the little boy into her arms and gave him a gentle hug.

"So where’s Daddy?" Sam asked.

Strange. Luisa had asked the same thing.

"I don’t know, sweetie."

"But he went to get you."

A wave of joy swept through Holly. "To get me? What for?"

"To bring you home, he said. Said he’d be back in time for supper, too. Luisa’s makin’ enchiladas."

Bring her home? Did that mean…? Could she have passed him on the highway?

Her fingers glued to her lips, she turned to Luisa.

"He’s right. Jack went for you."

"I didn’t think... I mean, he didn’t answer any of my calls."

"He didn’t get any calls, Holly," Sam said. "But that’s kinda my fault. I threw up on his cell phone. One of the pills made me sick. He had to throw it in the garbage."

Holly burst into a giggle. Poor little Sam, sick to his tummy, puking on his dad’s cell phone. She stared at his rosy cheeks and big brown eyes. Thank God he was fine now.

Still, Jack could have called her. On the other hand, he’d been busy with Sam, who had no doubt needed his full attention. But one little phone call....

Stop it, Holly. He was focused on his son and you could have come clean long before you did. He wouldn’t have gone for you if he didn’t care.

"Do you remember what happened that day, Sam? Why you fell from the roof of the barn?"

"Yeah. One of the kitties was on the roof crying. I had to get him."

"Goodness me," Holly said, hugging him again. "Your dad told you to go in for lunch."

"I know but—"

She smiled into his curly dark hair. "It’s okay, Sam. All that matters is that you’re okay now."

"I hope Daddy gets back soon."

"I do, too." Holly kissed his ruffled curls. He smelled like fruity shampoo and little boy. A ripple of motherly love surged into her. She loved this child. She wanted to protect him and take care of him.

"He’s driving up now," Luisa said, looking out the front window.

Holly lurched forward and steadied Sam against her. "You do as Luisa says," she told him. "Take it easy. Rest. There’ll be time for walking on your crutches once you’re a little stronger. I’ll go say hi to your daddy."

"Okay."

She helped him to the couch in the front room, then whisked past Luisa and out the front door.

Jack stepped from his pickup, her painting in his hand.

Suddenly shy, she slowed to a snail’s pace. But when he lifted his lips in that gorgeous smile, she ran into his arms.

He placed the painting on the ground, leaning against a front tire, and embraced her with strong and muscular arms. She inhaled the crisp combination of sandalwood, spice, and man that was uniquely Jack, then sobbed against his shoulder.

"Shh," he whispered. "Don’t cry, sugar."

"When you didn’t answer my calls, I thought...."

He chuckled against her cheek. "Didn’t have a phone."

She sniffed. "Yeah, I heard. But you didn’t call me, either."

"No, I didn’t. I’m sorry."

She shook her head against his cotton shirt. "You don’t have to be sorry, Jack. All the ‘sorrys’ belong to me, I’m afraid. And I am sorry. About everything."

"I know." He pushed her away, just a bit, wiped a tear from her cheek, and then tipped her chin upward with his finger. "I missed you."

"Oh Jack, I’ve missed you, too."

"I had some thinkin’ to do, Holly."

She nodded. "I understand."

He brushed his lips against hers. "I’ve never come so close to losin’ someone I love so much."

"I was so worried about Sam, Jack. That’s why I came out here. I...I wanted to see you, of course. I figured you might not want to see me. Still, I needed to know Sam was all right."

"He’s gonna be just fine."

"I’m so relieved. He’s a wonderful little boy."

"Gotta agree with you there."

She smiled and he kissed her again. Just a light brush of lips, but energy sizzled through her veins.

"So," she cleared her throat, "about that thinking you did?"

"I can’t lose Sam, Holly."

"I know that."

"And I can’t lose you."

Her heart fluttered. "I don’t want to lose you, either."

"Your age never made a difference to me. But I have to tell you, I did always think I’d have more kids."

Another tear meandered down her hot cheek.

"I did a lot of thinkin’ about that, while Sam was laid up in the hospital. He slept a lot, and I had all this time to play over all the scenarios of how my life might be. All kinds of things went through my mind, but Sam was always there."