Reuniting with the Cowboy (18 page)

Chapter Seventeen

L
ight. And voices. Cody tried to open his eyes, but they wouldn't seem to budge. Heavy. Heavy eyelids.

He wiggled his toes.

“Hey, I think he's coming around.” Mitch's voice.

Surgery. He'd had surgery. And he remembered that. That was good. He smiled.

“What are you dreaming about, bro? It must be good.”

He willed himself to open his eyes. It worked this time. Faces came into focus. Mitch and Catherine. No, that wasn't her name. But what was it?

“Hey.” She rested her hand on his arm. “How are you feeling?”

“Hungry.” His throat was dry, voice croaky. “I want a peanut butter and grape sandwich.”

Catherine frowned. But that wasn't her name. “You mean peanut butter and jelly?”

“That's it.” Why weren't his words coming out right? Why couldn't he remember his sister-in-law's name? She'd been his friend in school and their youth group long before she'd ever dated his brother. What was her name?

“Lunch should arrive soon. You slept right through breakfast.” She picked up a plastic mug of water with a straw, held it to his parched lips. “How about water for now?”

“Thanks.” He drank, the iced liquid soothing and cold on his throat. “Am I okay?”

“You seem okay to me.”

He focused on her, searching for the right name. “I can't remember your name. I'm coming up with Catherine. But I know that's not right.”

Her smile faded. “It's Caitlyn.” Sadness tinged her voice.

“That's it. Sorry.”

She squeezed his forearm. “They just played around in your brain. I'm sure a little confusion is normal.”

“What day is it?”

“Tuesday.”

What day had his surgery been? He couldn't remember. “How many days since the surgery?”

“One.” Mitch opened the blinds. “You've been in and out. This is the first time you've really been lucid. Must have been some good drugs.”

“They got the appendix out of my head?”

Caitlyn giggled. “The aneurysm is gone. They'll run more tests, but your surgeon said everything went textbook perfect and you should get out of here tomorrow or the next day.”

Of course. His appendix was in his chest and he hadn't had it since he was fifteen. Why could he remember that, but he couldn't say the right words? Or think them, for that matter. His appendix hadn't been in his chest, but where had it been?

“Only two people can visit you at a time and there are several waiting.” Mitch's boots clicked on the floor as he stepped back. “We'll get out of here so you can see Mom and Dad. They've been worried sick.”

Was he okay? He had to think really hard. Say the right things. Not worry Mom and Dad.

He had to be okay. Had to have a chance with Ally. Was she one of the visitors waiting?

The nurse checked his monitors.

“Ma'am, can I ask you an answer?”

She cocked her head to the side. “Sure.”

“I'm having a hard time coming up with the right talking. Am I okay?”

“I'll have your surgeon speak with you.”

Was that a good thing? Would the surgeon tell him his brain was toast?

* * *

Ally waited. Everyone had seen Cody. Except her. It was only right. They were family and she wasn't. But impatience gnawed at her stomach. What if the doctor put a halt to visitors before she got to see him?

And she was worried. She'd heard murmurs about Cody saying odd things. Had he had a stroke? His doctor was evaluating him now, then would consult with the family. After that, it was her turn. But what would she find? He hadn't been able to think of Caitlyn's name. Would he even remember her?

Silence reigned among his anxious family members.

Rubber-soled shoes squeaked toward them. Cody's surgeon. He smiled as he stepped in the room. “All of Mr. Warren's tests look excellent. He should be able to go home tomorrow.”

“But what about his speech?” The muscle along Wayne's jaw flexed.

“Some confusion in speech is a normal side effect of the procedure Mr. Warren had.”

“So he didn't have a stroke?” Audra put into words Ally's greatest fear.

“No. He's doing quite well. His speech should improve over time. It might frustrate him, but he should get back to normal soon.”

“So he doesn't have any other side effects?” Mitch sank into his chair. “He's fine. Normal.”

“His fine motor skills, mobility and balance are good. All his tests look great. He'll need to take it easy for the next two weeks and no driving. We'll run another MRI and MRA after that and if everything still looks good, he can return to his regular activities. He can even ride bulls if he must.”

“Please don't tell him that last bit.” Caitlyn squeezed her eyes closed.

The doctor chuckled, then hurried toward the hallway.

Cody was okay. The speech thing was temporary. He could live a normal life.

And go back on the circuit.

“It's your turn to see him, Ally.” Caitlyn checked the clock. “Better hurry. Before the doctor decides it's time for Cody to rest.”

“I'll wait. He's probably tired.”

“I think he'd like to see you.” Mitch squeezed her elbow. “I'll show you the way.”

How could she say no?

Mitch propelled her down the long corridor. Some sort of alarm started up, sending doctors and nurses scurrying.
Please not Cody.
Her legs noodled.

The staff sprinted into a room. Mitch led her past the turmoil. It wasn't Cody. She started breathing again, said a prayer for the patient in jeopardy. It felt good to pray again.

“He's right here.” Mitch gestured to an open doorway, then turned away.

“Aren't you staying?” Did she sound as panicked as she felt?

“I've already seen him. I think he'd like to see you alone.”

Ally sucked in a deep breath, slowly let it out and hesitated in his doorway, afraid to enter.

Because she was here only to say goodbye.

“Bye.” He waved her inside.

So quick? Her chin wobbled. “You want me to leave?”

“No. Why would you think that?” He stretched his hand toward her. “Please come in.”

“You just said bye.” She frowned.

He let out a growl. “Don't pay much attention to what I say. I can't seem to get things out right.”

“Oh, you meant hello?”

“No. Like what horses eat.”

“Hay.” She giggled. “Oh, you meant to say hey.”

“Even though you seem to think my frustration is funny, you're a sight for sore ears.”

Sore eyes? She stifled another laugh. “The doctor talked to you about it. He said it's temporary.”

“Yes. But it's very annoying.”

“You just got several sentences right.” She nibbled on her lip, trying to hold back a grin, but it couldn't be contained and her vision blurred. Only hours ago, she'd thought she might never hear his voice again. So what if he bungled a few words? “And you probably get to go home tomorrow.”

“Remember when we were old and we used to hold hands and each waltz a side of the railroad track?”

She chuckled at his slip.

“What did I say?” He rolled his eyes.

“You said when we were old and we waltzed the tracks, but I think you meant when we were young and we walked, unless we've been to Narnia and I don't remember.” She flipped her thick braid over her shoulder, twirled the end around her finger. “And I don't know how to waltz.”

“Very funny.” He reached for her hand.

She shouldn't, but she did. His fingers linked with hers. Warm and strong.

“Anyway, I want to walk the tracks again. And remember how we used to jump from hay bale to hay bale?”

“We had a lot of fun.”

“I want to live death to the fullest.” He growled. “That wasn't right. But don't tell me. I want to life...life. I want to live life to the fullest. You have no idea how frustrating this is.”

“It's temporary, it keeps me on my toes trying to figure out what you're trying to say, and it's kind of cute.”

“Cute?” His grin melted her insides.

“I better let you rest.”

“I'm too hungry to rest.” He held on to her hand. “All they let me have was soup juice and that orange jiggly stuff. I'm dying for a peanut butter and grape sandwich. But they said they didn't have them. And I said it wrong again. Peanut butter and...jelly.”

“Very good.”

“Ally. There's so much I want to tell you.” His tone was thick with whatever was on his mind.

Her heart skipped a beat. “Like what?”

“After I get out of here. When I get better with my talking.”

“Okay. We'll talk then.” The way he looked at her curled her toes. Had they wiggled something in his brain? Made him have feelings for her?

“I came here not knowing if I'd ever wake up. Now they tell me to take it easy for two weeks and then I can ride buffaloes again.”

His slip wasn't funny this time.

She pulled out of his grasp. “How about I go tell them you're still hungry?”

“Stay with me.” He reached for her again.

But she couldn't stay a minute longer. “You need food and rest. So you can get well.” She backed away, out of the room, and hurried down the hall.

A clean bill of health. And he was already planning to leave.

* * *

Thankfully Ally had critters to tend to. A good excuse not to go next door for Cody's homecoming. His family had all left hours ago, except for his mom, who was spending the next few nights with him. There was no reason to go over there. No reason to see Cody for his two weeks of rest. Best to wean herself from his intoxicating presence.

She checked on her patients in recovery one more time, then tested the front door lock and left out the back.

Straight to the barn. She had only four boarders and two strays. The emptiest her barn had been since she started her shelter. And her volunteers had already walked, fed and watered them. She made sure all the runs were open and locked up, then hurried toward her house.

“Ally?”

Cody? What was he doing outside? She turned around.

He stood on his side of the wood rail fence separating their properties.

“Should you be out here?”

“I'm already going stir-crazy. Surely walking twenty feet won't kill me.”

“Don't tease like that.” Her eyes stung at the memory of finding him unconscious.

“Sorry. Poor word choice.” He dug an envelope out of his shirt pocket. “Remember I told you, before I went in the hospital, I wrote each of my family members a letter in case I lived?”

“Why not just tell them what you want to say?”

“I did it again.” Cody stomped his foot. “What's the opposite?”

“Oh. You wrote letters in case you—” her throat closed up “—died.” Something hard sank to the pit of her stomach at the mere thought of it.

“Yes. I wrote you one, too.” He handed her the envelope.

Her gaze stayed locked on his.

“Read it.”

“Now?” At his nod, she opened the envelope and pulled a single page out.

“Read it out silent.”

“Out loud?”

“Isn't that what I said?”

She dragged her eyes from his and concentrated on deciphering his chicken scratch. “‘Ally, you've been the best friend I've ever had. I love you and I've arranged for you to inherit my land if I die.'” She clutched her heart. “This is very sweet. But I'm so glad I'm not inheriting your ranch.”

“But I've been thinking.” He patted the top rail of the fence. “Do you like this wood?”

“Looks like perfectly good wood to me. It's not rotten or anything.”

“Not the wood, the hurdle.” He gestured at the length of fence between them.

“The fence?”

“That's it. So frustrating.” He gritted his teeth. “Do you like this fence?”

“Sure. Are you thinking of building a new one?”

“I think we should tear it down.”

“But the fence marks our property lines except for the acreage you donated for my shelter.”

He stared up at the sky. “I wanted to wait. To make sure I get the words right. But I can't wait anymore.”

“What is it? Are you regretting giving me the five acres? You can have it back.”

“I don't want it. The only regret I have is you.”

“I'm not following.” Did he regret the time they'd spent together in the last month?

“I regret leaving after your dad died. I shouldn't have left you.”

“It wasn't your job to stay here and babysit me.” She shrugged, swallowed the knot lodged in her throat. “It was hard, but I survived.”

“I can't change the past. But what do you think about a corporate takeover?”

“You want to buy me out?”

“No, I want you to be my...partner.”

“Oh. A merger.” Business partners with Cody? When her heart longed for so much more. “You want to go into business together?”

“Warren Veterinary Clinic/Adopt-a-Pet/Longhorn Ranch.”

“You want me to oversee your ranch when you go back on the circuit.” Her eyes singed. “My plate's pretty full already. But I'm sure you can find a good manager.”

“No.” Cody took off his hat and sailed it through the air like a Frisbee. “That's not what I meant. I have no desire to ride buffaloes again. That page of my death is over.”

“You're not going back on the circuit?”

“I want you to do the loop with me.”

“Do the loop?” Do the loop? Tie the knot? No, he couldn't mean that. Her heart went into overdrive.

“To marry you, Ally. I want to marry you.”

His handsome face blurred. “Why?”

“Because.” He closed his eyes, concentration apparent in the taut lines of his face. “I love you.”