Not this time. “Stay with me, kid,” he whispered as he caught sight of their camp and his truck. This was going to be the longest ride of his life.
* * *
“WHERE IS HE?” Holly slammed through the emergency room doors. “Simon? Luke?” The dam burst. “Simon?”
It was prom night all over again: her father’s accident, her mother leaving, the fear, the not knowing... How was it possible she’d have this nightmare a second time? It was incomprehensible her son might be... Holly struggled to stave off a panic attack, but her entire body was trembling hard enough to register on the Richter scale. Alive. Her father had said Simon was alive and that he was with Luke and Charlie. But that was all he’d said before his phone had died.
“Holly, wait.” Abby clutched her arm and pulled her over to the woman on duty at the registration counter. “We’re looking for Simon Campbell. Eight-year-old boy? We were told he’d been brought in.”
The middle-aged nurse turned kind, understanding eyes on Holly. “Yes, Sheriff Saxon brought him in a little while ago. They’re right through there. Wait, are you all family?” Paige and Abby were right on Holly’s heels.
“Yes!” Holly plowed through the double metal doors. “Luke? Where’s Simon?” She pressed a hand against her heart as she spotted Luke sitting in one of the metal-backed chairs. The color was gone from his face, his eyes empty, as if...
Holly sobbed, tears flooding her eyes. “Simon?” she squeaked. Luke sat forward and Charlie hopped down from her chair to run to her mother.
“You okay?” Paige whispered, skimming her hands down Charlie’s sides as if searching for injuries.
“Five by five,” Charlie said with a nod. “Sheriff Luke took good care of us. I’ve never been in a car that fast before!”
“Where is he?” Holly asked Luke as he got to his feet. She refused to register the grief on his face, the sadness and fright she saw in his eyes. “What happened? Is he okay?”
“He’s going to be fine, Holly. He took a fall, that’s all.” Luke shoved his hands into his pockets, and only then did she see the dark patch of blood on the front of his shirt.
Her mouth went dry. “Is that—?” Was that her son’s blood?
Luke’s face went white as he glanced down, and for a moment, Holly worried he might pass out. “I got him here as fast as I could. Holly, I’m so sor—”
“Sheriff?”
A doctor approached, his white coat stark against the blue-green scrubs of Holly’s worst memories. She squeezed her eyes shut, grabbed hold of Luke’s arm. She couldn’t do this again. Not after her father. Not after Gray.
“Doctor Peterson, this is Holly Campbell,” Luke said. “Simon’s mother.”
“Is he really okay?” Part of her died as she waited to hear. What would she do if...?
“Simon’s going to be fine,” Dr. Peterson said. “Mild concussion, a few scrapes and bruises. A couple days’ rest and he’ll be back to normal. There will be a scar,” he added. “Simon’s pretty excited about it, if that helps.”
Holly’s laugh sounded like a sob of hysteria breaking free. “It does. Please.” She gripped Luke’s arm harder. “I want to see him.”
“Of course. This way.”
“I’ll wait here,” Luke said.
“We all will,” Abby chimed in. “We aren’t going anywhere.”
Even knowing her son would be all right, the walk down the hall to Simon’s room felt like a death march. She flashed between the past and now, the same terror crowding her chest as she struggled to take slow, controlled breaths. He was okay, she kept chanting to herself. Simon was okay. She dropped her purse inside his room as the energy and emotion flooded out of her. “Simon.”
“Hi, Mom.” The sheepish look on his pale face let Holly know he definitely had some explaining to do, but right now all she could do was stare at him and be grateful he was fine. He pointed at his forehead as the nurse finished taping a bandage to his face. “The doctor said I’m going to have a scar.”
“So I hear.” Why, oh, why were little boys such a trial? “You don’t look so bad.” Who was she kidding? He looked as if he’d gone ten rounds with Bigfoot. There was a bruise on his left cheek and smears of blood down the sides of his face, but his smile eased the heaviness in her heart. He was alive, awake. Talking. There wouldn’t be any surgeries or life-altering injuries.
“I need to talk to Sheriff Luke,” Simon announced as Holly wrapped him in her arms and squeezed. “Mom, you’re squishing me.” He squirmed, but she only held on tighter, rocking him until he gave up and sagged against her. “Mom, please don’t cry. I’m okay, I promise.”