Stone Cold Cowboy(57)
Rory left her room, knowing he’d picture her there whenever they weren’t together. He’d see her in that bed and dream about being there with her. Right now, he needed to find her and give her the support and comfort she needed to get through this tough time.
He closed up the front door, but didn’t lock it, walked to his truck, and opened the cab door. He tossed Sadie’s bag on the passenger side, climbed in, started the engine, but didn’t pull out of the drive. Instead, he pulled out his cell and tried Sadie again. He got her voice mail.
“Hey sweetheart, it’s me. I’m headed your way. Be there soon.”
He hung up and called the ranch.
“What happened?” his grandfather asked.
“Her father took a bad spill and split open his skull. Bell sent him to the hospital in Bozeman. Beyond that, I don’t know anything more. I’m headed there now.” Rory put action to his words, driving down the driveway to the main road.
“What can we do to help?” his grandfather asked.
“Call that cleaning service we use a few times a year. Send them to Sadie’s place. It’ll probably cost extra, I don’t care, but tell them there’s a lot of blood in Mr. Higgins’s room. It’ll need to be scrubbed and disinfected. I don’t want Sadie coming home to that.”
“I’ll have the whole place cleaned. Anything else?”
“I’ll let you know. Tell Ford and Colt to hold down the fort. I’m not sure when I’ll be back. I’m staying with her as long as she needs me.”
“That’s exactly where you should be. Don’t worry about things here. We’ve got it covered.”
“Thanks. I’ll be in touch.”
“Take care of your girl.”
“I will.” He’d always take care of her. It finally sank in that he not only wanted to take care of her, he needed to do it because she meant so much to him.
It was a long drive into Bozeman. By the time he got there, he was desperate to see her and make sure she was okay. He missed her so damn much these last few days. The few minutes they shared before she dashed off to see her father weren’t enough, but he understood. She needed to be with her dad. He hoped Mr. Higgins’s accident was just a setback and not the end, for both his and Sadie’s sakes.
CHAPTER 16
Sadie sat in the chair by her father’s hospital bed and stared at his bruised and swollen face. As best she could tell, he’d tried to get out of bed, got dizzy, and face-planted into the dresser, bouncing off the wall and landing on the floor. His left eye was black and swollen shut. The splotchy bruising went down his cheek and across his nose. Bandages wrapped around his head, covering the deep four-inch gash across his head and into his hairline. She’d never seen anything so ominous. Blood had poured down his face and neck. He’d tried to get up and help himself, but only ended up passed out on the floor. If she hadn’t stopped at the house on the way to Rory’s place . . . Well, she didn’t want to think what might have happened to her father.
“Miss Higgins?”
Sadie glanced over at the doctor standing at the end of the bed with a thick folder in his hands. She’d met several since she arrived, but couldn’t remember their names or faces really. She didn’t think she’d met this guy.
“Yes, I’m Sadie.”
“Sadie, I’m Dr. Bird. I saw your father about five months ago.”
“You did?”
“He was referred to me after he saw another doctor about having some shortness of breath and chest pain.”
“What kind of doctor are you?”
“An oncologist.”
“My dad has cancer.” Deep inside she’d known, but saying it out loud made it all the more real. That dreaded thing no one wanted to say, let alone have. Her gut soured and the sense of dread she’d lived with these last months and had grown over the last weeks intensified.
“Stage four lung cancer.”
Even that didn’t stun her. Forty years of smoking, killing himself a little bit with every puff. Connor was doing the same, only he’d chosen a much more expeditious form of death.
“I see. So was he undergoing some kind of treatment? Do we need to start something now?”
“I’m sorry to say that your father refused chemotherapy and radiation.”
“What?”
“As I explained to him, it may have prolonged his life, but not saved it. By the time I saw your father, the cancer had already spread to his liver and other vital organs. Your father understood it wasn’t if he’d die from cancer, but when. He didn’t want to spend his final months in and out of the hospital for treatments that would prolong his days, but steal his quality of life. That was his sentiment. And though I wished he’d given us a chance to help, he wanted to be home with you.”