Chapter Thirteen
“I’m telling you, the guy is head over heels for you.” It was the day after the party, and Sidney and Ben were lounging in her apartment binge watching a zombie series and having Greek takeout. They’d decided Chinese might be too disturbing to eat during this series on account of the fact that Chinese food sometimes looked like a mishmash of random body parts.
Sidney glowered at Ben. “I beg to differ.”
“Beg all you want, honey.”
She sniffed. “I find your research inconclusive.”
“Seriously?”
“All he really said was I can’t stand the sight of him.” Hardly a declaration of love. Hardly worth taking any real risk.
“It was the way he said it.”
“How do you mean?”
“Like it was painful.”
“Sorry. I just can’t buy it.”
“What?”
“That Cody has some soft, squishy center.”
“All men have a soft, squishy center, when it comes to the women they love.”
“Oh, well, then Cody must have a very squishy center. Because he loves all women.”
“Does he?”
She shot him a look.
He shrugged. “Just sayin’.” He took a bite of his gyro and said, “Claire told me he’s not dating.”
“Well, heavens to Murgatroyd! Did that cause a rip in the space-time continuum?”
“Be nice.” Ben waggled spanakopita at her. “Have you ever known him not to date?”
She shrugged her shoulders. No.
“Doesn’t that mean anything to you?”
“Maybe he’s tired.”
Ben fixed her with a somber glance. “Maybe he is.”
His tone mystified her, but she had no time to interrogate him about it because her cell rang. She wiped her hands on a napkin and checked the screen, then smiled. It was Dad. She held up a finger to Ben and hit the answer button. “Hi, Dad.”
“Sidney.” She blinked. It was Mrs. Johnson, the woman who came in a couple of times a week to help Dad with Mom. A ripple of disquiet danced up her spine. She shot a concerned glance at Ben, and he covered her hand.
“Mrs. Johnson. What’s up?”
“It’s your dad, Sidney. I . . . don’t know how to say this—”
Horror, cold and sharp, stabbed at her. “Wh-what?”
“When I got here today, your mother was in the field.”
Oh God. Mom did tend to wander away. But . . . “What about Dad?”
“I brought her in, of course. She was in her nightgown and barefooted. And so cold. I gave her something warm to eat and wrapped her in a blanket.”
Yes, yes, yes. “What about Dad?” Dammit woman, get to the point!
“I couldn’t find your father anywhere.”
Oh no!
“It took me ages.”
Sidney steeled her spine. “Mrs. Johnson. Is my dad okay?”
“I tried to reach Hanna, but she’d not answering her phone.”
“She and Logan went away for the week.” A cruise to the Caribbean, of all things.
“Oh well, that explains it. He’s such a nice young man.”
“Mrs. Johnson?”
“Yes, Sidney?”
“How. Is. My. Father?”
“Your father? Oh. Oh. Yes. Did I mention I couldn’t find him?”
“Yes you did.”
“Well, I finally did. I should have looked on the other side of the bed to begin with.”
“He fell out of bed?” This was not good. Not good at all.
“The doctors think he had a heart attack.”
“A heart attack?” Her entire world tipped on its ear. Oh, God. God no. “Where is he?”
“Why, he’s at the hospital, of course. I called 911 right away.”
“Oh thank God. Thank you.”
“Those handsome boys from the fire department came right quick and took him to the hospital.”
“Good. Good.”
“I tried to reach Hanna. Did I mention that?”
“You did. You did. And Mama? How is she?”
“I have her at my place, but she’s not happy. She wants to go home.”
Of course she did. It was the only place she felt comfortable. “Can you keep her there tonight?” It would take her a while to get her things together and drive home. Besides, she would have to check on her father first.
“Of course. Once I put her in bed, she’ll settle down.”
“Oh, thank you Mrs. Johnson. I’m coming right home.”
“Oh good. Good. You are such a good daughter.”
She wasn’t—she’d left town, deserted her parents the minute she hit eighteen—but there was no point in arguing with Mrs. Johnson, who could barely carry on a lucid conversation as it was.
“See you soon.” She ended the call and fixed a somber look on Ben. “I have to go.”
“I heard. Anything I can do?”
She glanced around at her coffee table, covered with Greek food. “If you could take care of this, I would very much appreciate it.”
“Of course I will. In fact, I’ll take it home and have it for lunch tomorrow.” He winked, but it wasn’t a playful wink. “Seriously, if you need anything, you let me know, okay?”
“I will.”
It didn’t take her long to grab the necessities and toss some clothes in a suitcase. Ben helped her load her car, assured her he would reach Logan somehow, and kissed her on the forehead. She had no idea how long she would be gone, so she texted her boss that she had a family emergency and took off.
It was a long drive to Snake Gully, and Sidney hated driving at night, but it couldn’t be helped. When she got into town, she went straight to the hospital. She’d spent the entire drive going over one scenario after another, so she was in a wad as she approached the reception desk. Angie Tremaine saw her coming and met her halfway.
“How is he?” Sidney asked in a voice choked with fear.
Angie rubbed her back. “He’s alive.” At once, Sidney was relieved and horrified. She’d been hoping for He’s fine, but she’d take He’s alive any day. “He’s up in ICU. Come on. I’ll take you there.”
Sidney had no memory of the journey up to the third floor, but there was one thing she would never forget. As she rounded the corner into the waiting room, wreathed in fear, a tall, handsome, familiar man stood and opened his arms.
Oh God.
With a sob, she ran to him and launched herself into his embrace. She knew everything wouldn’t be all better because he was holding her, but, damn, it felt that way.
She looked up into Cody’s bluer than blue eyes. “How did you . . . ?”
He stroked her cheek and gently curled her hair around her ear. “Cade told me. He was on the call. I . . . just thought someone should be here.”
Oh God. Oh God. “Thank you.”
Angie cleared her throat. “Would you like to see him?”
She nodded. “Please.”
Cody frowned. “They wouldn’t let me in,” he grumbled.
“You’re not family,” Angie said primly in a tone that made Sidney suspect she might be one of his castoffs too. But then, in this town, who wasn’t?
“He was my scout leader,” Cody insisted.
“But you’re not family.”
“Oh please,” Sidney said. “Can’t he come with me? I . . .” She fluttered her lashes. “I don’t know if I can do this alone.”
Angie’s tart expression melted. “Of course, Sidney. Of course. But I warn you, he may not be awake.”
“I just want to see him. Please.”
“All right. This way.”
Angie led them through the ICU double doors and had them sanitize their hands before entering her dad’s room. Sidney was in a fog, aware only of Cody’s warm arm around her back. It was so comforting. He was so comforting. She wanted to cling to him. But she had to be strong.
Her knees nearly failed her as she got a look at her father, lying on that hospital bed, pale and motionless, hooked up to all kinds of cords and machines. He’d always been a hearty man, a solid man, a man who took no guff off of anyone. But here, now, he looked . . . diminished somehow.
She couldn’t hold back her sob.
“It’s okay, Sidney,” Cody whispered. “It will be okay. He’s strong.”
Together they made their way to his side and Sidney gingerly took her father’s hand, trying not to disturb any of the wires. He was cold. She shivered.
“I’m here, Dad,” she said. “I’m here.” And she thought she felt him squeeze her hand. But it might just have been her hope.
They stood there in silence for a while, and then Angie cleared her throat. “I’m sorry. I need to ask you to leave now.”
Sidney nodded and turned, but couldn’t find her way because tears blurred her vision. Thank God Cody was there to guide her.
“You can come back tomorrow,” Angie said.
“Can’t we stay the night?”
“You shouldn’t.” Cody gave her a squeeze. “You need to rest.”
“But what if . . .” She couldn’t even manage the words, much less the thought.
“You need your rest. You need to be strong for him.”
Yes. Yes she did. But who would be strong for her?
“Let me take you home,” Cody said as they came out into the waiting room. It was quiet, sanitized, deserted.
An icy wind whipped through her. The house? Without Dad? “I . . . couldn’t.”
“Where is your mom?”
“Mrs. Johnson is keeping her tonight.”
“Come home with me.”
Her gaze whipped to his, and he flinched, even though she knew he didn’t mean it that way.
“We have plenty of beds, and Claire and Lisa are there. You won’t be alone.”
It sounded so wonderful it made her want to cry. “You don’t mind?”
“Sidney.” He pulled her into a hug. “How can you ask? Come on.”
And so she let him take her. Let him lead her to the car park, get her suitcases, and then climb into the cab of his truck. She let him take her home with him and give her hot chocolate with a shot of whiskey and tuck her into bed, because everyone else was already asleep.
She wanted him to stay with her, to hold her, but she didn’t dare ask. So he kissed her on the forehead and wished her good night, and he left.
But she noticed that he left her door open. And he left his door open too. And his room was right across the hall.
And suddenly, she didn’t feel so alone after all.
***
How wonderful it was to come downstairs the next morning to a table full of friendly faces and platters of delicious food. Lisa was a genius with baked goods and believed, deep in her heart, pastries were the cure for all that ails.
As Claire, Cade, and Cody listened to Sidney’s story—though Cody already knew all the details—Lisa kept sliding one delight after another toward her.
“You have to eat,” she kept saying. “You have to keep up your strength.”
Finally Sidney shot her a chagrined smile and responded, “Darling, the hospital doors are only so wide. If I keep eating these goodies, I won’t be able to fit through.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Cade said. “They have that huge sliding glass door into the emergency room.” He eyed her contemplatively. “I’m pretty sure you’ll fit.”
Thank God Lisa smacked him, or Sidney would have.
“Be nice,” Cody growled. “She’s having a rough time.”
While it was nice to have Cody defend her, Cade didn’t seem contrite. “She can take it,” he said with a wink.
Claire gusted out a sigh. “She’ll have to, if she’s staying here.”
Sidney blinked. “Oh, I can’t stay here.”
Four heads whipped around. Claire frowned. “Of course you’re staying here. You can’t do this all on your own.”
She shook her head and focused on the pile of pastries on the tray. “I can’t. Mama wouldn’t be comfortable here. She’s restless when she’s not in her own home.”
Lisa set her hand on Sidney’s. “Of course she is. No worries. I’ll come and stay with you. We’ll do this together.”
Claire frowned. “She’s my friend. I should be the one to stay with her.”
“We’re all friends,” Cody said. He caught Sidney’s gaze. “Aren’t we?” When she nodded—she had to—he added, “We’ll take turns. I’ll take you to the hospital this morning, and Claire and Lisa can go get your mother from Mrs. Johnson and take her home.”
She couldn’t ask them to disrupt their lives. It was too much. “I—”
Oh, but they ignored her. In fact, they broke into an animated conversation—amongst themselves—about how and when and where things would happen. Sidney was just washed along like so much flotsam in the arroyo during a flood. And strange as it seemed, it felt . . . nice.
“Great,” Cody said, slapping his hands on the table. “It’s all settled. Ready to go into town?”
She was, but she had to object, at least once. “You guys, I can’t let you—”
“Hush,” Lisa said with uncustomary curtness. “You would do the same for us.”
Sidney gaped at her. That was utterly and completely debatable. She liked to think she was that kind of person, but her choices in the past certainly did not seem to concur. But faced with such stolid determination, it was better to just go along with it. So as Cody rose, she did as well, and she followed him to his truck. He helped her in—it was impossibly high. Why did trucks in Texas need to be to freaking enormous?
She settled into the seat and waited for him to come around to the driver’s side. As soon as he was in, she felt the need to object, one more time. “Cody . . .” He turned to her—those big blue eyes boring into her soul—and she forgot what she’d been going to say. “I . . .”
He grinned. “It’s okay, Sidney. Just relax. Everything is going to be all right.”
And somehow he made her feel like it was.
All the way into town, it bothered her—him being so nice when she’d been such a horrible person to him. All kinds of uncomfortable thoughts swirled in her head. Her conversation with Hanna, her conversation with Ben, her conversations with him. They all made her feel small.
So when they pulled into the parking garage and he turned off the engine, she set her hand on his. He stilled.
“Cody.” She waited until he looked at her, because he deserved to hear this face-to-face. “I’m sorry.”
He blinked. “What?”
“I’m sorry I’ve been such a bitch to you.”
“Oh. That.” There was no call for him to grin. “It’s okay, Sidney.”
“No. It’s not. I was holding a grudge against you for something you did when you were a kid, and that was wrong.”
He shifted as though her apology made him uncomfortable.
“What you’ve done for me here . . . makes me feel like the lowest creature on the planet.”
“Sidney—”
“No. No. It does. Because I was wrong. Would you . . .” She swallowed because the words were really prickly in her throat. “Would you be willing to start again? As . . . friends?”
A shadow flickered over his features and his jaw tightened, but he nodded and said, “I’d like that very much, actually.”
And a weight lifted from her chest. A weight she hadn’t really been aware she’d been carrying. For years.
She forced a smile and thrust out her hand. “Hello there,” she said. “My name is Sidney. Nice to meet you.”
He stared at her for a minute, and then slipped his hand into hers and smiled. A real smile. “I’m Cody. Damn glad to meet you.”
“Likewise.”
And somehow, as corny as it all had been, it really felt new.
Like a fresh chance to get to know each other without the past haunting them.
Until, of course, they walked into the hospital together to find Tibby Pucey, wearing her candy striper uniform, waiting for them in the lobby.
***
Cody grimaced.
Tibby had the worst timing. Just when he and Sidney had finally found some kind of peace together, just as they’d agreed to put the past waaaaay behind them, she popped up like a bad penny. A heinous reminder of the worst decision he’d ever made.
“Oh Cody,” she cooed, and then she enveloped him in an embrace . . . and a cloud of her perfume. Cody had never been much of a perfume guy. He preferred something lighter, more natural. Like the smell of Sidney’s shampoo or the scent of her skin. Cloying aromas, to his way of thinking, were an attempt to cover something up.
Aside from that, he knew he’d be smelling Tibby until he changed his shirt. But maybe that was her plan.
He took her by the arms and gently detangled her from his person. “Hello, Tibby.”
She turned to Sidney and fixed a sympathetic expression on her face. “I am so sorry about your father, Sidney.”
Sidney stiffened, but said, “Thank you, Tibby.” It was clear she was anxious to see her dad, but Tibby seemed oblivious. She chattered on about the coming Founder’s Day celebration, of which she was the chair. Not that this was any great honor. Since the Puceys had founded the town, way back when, one of them always served as the chair.
In past years, her brother Zack had been the chair of the event, but after his breakup with Hanna, Zack had gone a little crazy and tried to set Logan’s restaurant on fire. The security cameras caught everything, so Zack was now doing a couple of years for arson.
As disastrous as that was to the family reputation in town, Tibby seemed to be lapping it up. She’d lived her whole life in Zack’s shadow.
“So,” she said after a way-too-long monologue, “can I count on you both to volunteer?”
Cody gaped at her, then he glanced at Sidney to find her gaping as well. She shook her head—not in a no kind of way, but in an are you serious? kind of way. “I don’t live in town,” she reminded Tibby.
“Oh,” Tibby gushed. “Of course you don’t.” She offered a simpering smile. “I guess it’s just you and me, Cody.” And yeah, she batted her lashes.
“We’ll see,” he said, not willing to promise anything. “Right now, Sidney and I need to go. See you later.” And before Tibby could say anything more—though it was clear she intended to—he whisked Sidney to the elevators, praying the woman didn’t follow.
When the doors closed on them, Sidney sighed. “You shouldn’t have done that,” she said, shooting him a wry glance.
“What?”
“You were far too vague. We’ll see? She could take that as a marriage proposal.”
“I wanted to end the conversation.”
“Coward.”
He had to laugh. He was a coward, at least where Tibby was concerned. “She scares me to death.”
“Excellent.” She winked. “That means you’re paying attention.”
The conversation was all tongue in cheek, but there was an element of truth in there. Tibby was like a predator on the Serengeti, stalking any eligible male. She’d made no bones about the fact she wanted him.
And he didn’t want her.
More to the point, he didn’t want her screwing up this tentative peace with Sidney. It was far too precious.
When the elevator doors opened, he took her arm—which she allowed—and led her to the ICU nurse’s desk. Old nurse Ratched was on duty and she offered him a dark glower. Cody didn’t take it personally. He’d known her for years—she’d been on duty when his father had taken his last breath here—he knew this was just . . . her way.
And her name wasn’t Ratched, it was Lovelace, but given her relentless stern demeanor, such a pretty moniker didn’t seem to fit, so they all called her Ratched. Behind her back of course. Which was probably small-minded of them, and if she heard them, there was no telling how she might wreak her revenge. Lobotomies in the cafeteria with a grapefruit spoon came to mind.
Nonetheless, he offered a smile and a nod.
Her eyes narrowed. Something like a growl rippled on the air.
“We’re, ah, here to see Henry Stevens,” he said.
Her lips pursed. “Family?”
“I’m family,” Sidney said, although Ratched probably knew damn well she was. This was a small town after all. “I’m his daughter.”
Ratched sniffed. “Come with me.” But when they both followed her, she whipped around and glowered at him. “Not. You.”
Sidney winced. “Please,” she said. “I would appreciate his support. This is . . . very difficult for me.”
Given her heartfelt plea, it appeared Ratched would soften, but she didn’t. “It is against regulations,” she said, and with another glower in his direction, ushered Sidney through the double doors.
“It’s okay,” he called. “I’ll wait here.” And he dropped into one of the uncomfortable seats.
Truth be told, he hated waiting rooms. Not just because the seats were hard and the room smelled of disinfectant, but because it brought back painful memories. He’d spent his share of time in a hospital waiting room and—in his experience—the thing one most waited for was death.
The first time he’d sat in these chairs was when his mom was rushed to the hospital with a breech birth. He’d been young then, too young to really understand what was happening. In his naivety, he’d thought everything would be fine. His mom was in excellent health, and she’d had three babies before.
The last thing he expected was for the doctors to come out with those tight expressions and say, “I’m sorry. We’ve lost them.”
Lost them.
Both of them.
Where had they gone? he’d wondered, his mother and his baby brother, whom they’d named Cole. But there had been no answers from his father. No end to the grief.
He’d never expected that with that loss, his entire life would change. They went from being a happy and whole family to a bereaved father and three lost, motherless children. In the end, Cade had taken up the reins as their father had slowly sunken into his misery. It was a heavy load for a twelve-year-old, but Cade had done it. Played father and mother to them all.
And then, of course, they’d come here to wait for their father’s death too. Older and wiser, they knew a failing liver did not lend itself to miracles.
That loss, though not totally unexpected, hadn’t been any easier.
And then, the news had come that they were losing the ranch on top of everything.
It had been a hard, hard time.
So yes, sitting in a waiting room was not his favorite thing to do. It brought up far too many old demons.
Fortunately, he didn’t have long to wait before Sidney came back out. Her expression was wretched. He knew what this was like so he stood and greeted her with a hug. She clung to him.
“How is he?”
She shook her head and sobbed into his shoulder. “Same.”
He closed his arms tighter around her. “Same is better than worse.”
Her laugh was damp. “I suppose.”
“Come and sit down,” he said, leading her to the seats. He made a mental note to bring a couple of cushions tomorrow. As she sat, he reached over for the box of tissue on the table, and she took a handful with a nod of thanks. “I know it’s hard,” he said.
She sniffed and mopped her cheeks. Damn. He longed to kiss her tears away. But friends didn’t do that, did they?
“He-he-he looks so weak.”
“He’s been through a lot. You need to be patient. Give him time. He’s a pretty strong guy. And healthy.”
“I had no idea he had a heart problem,” she wailed.
Henry wasn’t the kind of guy to complain. “What did they say?”
“They said a lot. I don’t remember all of it. But he needs surgery. They’re waiting until he’s more stable.”
Shit. Not stable enough for surgery? That wasn’t good.
“Have you reached Hanna?”
She sighed. “Not yet.”
“Where on earth could she be?”
“She and Logan went on a cruise. I know signal can be spotty at sea.”
“But we could call the ship . . .”
“Yes, we could,” she said. “If we knew what boat they were on.”
He hated to say it, hated to even mention Ben, but he had to. “Maybe Logan’s brothers know.”
Yeah, he hated to mention it. Hated that her eyes lit up. “I’ll call,” she said and leaped to her feet and scurried to the balcony where cell phone use was permitted. He had to follow.
As she spoke with Ben, his stomach tightened, because she seemed suddenly at ease, much more comforted by this other man, his friend, than she had been with him. He hated that. Not simply the jealousy of it, but the fact that another man could soothe her. That she felt more at home with him.
He had to turn away, staring out at the town he’d grown up in. Where had it all gone wrong? Where had he lost her? His gaze landed on the high school, and he winced. There. It had all gone wrong there. One night in a red-hot Mustang in the parking lot.
Shit.
She ended the call and came over to him, her eyes wide and a smile on her face. “Thank you. That was a great idea. Ben is checking with the others. One of them has to know which ship they took.”
“It’s a shame to ruin their vacation.”
“But Hanna would want to know. She’d want to be here.”
“Of course.” He gazed down at her, flummoxed and beguiled by her beauty, aching to hold her, yearning to make this all better. But he couldn’t. So he said, “Can I get you some coffee?” A stupid offer, but her smile widened.
“Hospital coffee? My favorite.”
“Yeah. Right. Anything else?”
“Surprise me.”
“Okay. I’ll be right back.” And before he could stop himself, he kissed her. Just a light, tender kiss.
And she let him.
It was wonderful indeed.