“There isn’t anything anyone can do right now,” Audrey interjected. “Except maybe send up a good thought that she’ll pull through this all right.”
NO ONE SPOKE the truth that everyone knew. If Lacy Remington was going to die from her heart stopping, it would be in the next few minutes. And that was only if it hadn’t happened already. The thought caused Audrey’s knees to buckle. She grabbed tighter on to Duke’s forearm to steady herself. She couldn’t imagine a world without Lacy Remington in it.
Audrey hated that the family was going through this. Duke had been her first thought when she’d found his grandparents. She knew how much he loved them.
The group would need to discuss how they wanted to handle moments like these in the future.
This was still too new to all of them to have come up with a good plan. Audrey had called Nash instead of Duke at the scene while EMTs worked, figuring she was the last person Duke wanted to hear from again after his grandparents warned her it would be best to keep her distance once she moved back to Mesa Point.
Being here at the hospital, witnessing Duke and Nash react to what was happening in the next room, reminded her of the task the sheriff had ahead of him. Talking to Jenson Napier’s parents was going to be one of his most difficult jobs. Period.
Despite the teen watching her, which gave her the creeps to no end, she would never have wished him dead. She didn’t wish that burden on his family. They were not only about to find out their only son was gone but that he was engaged in criminal activity to boot.
As far as days went, this one topped the Worst list.
Hang in there. You got this. Audrey wasn’t a praying person, so that was all she could think to say on Gram Lacy’s behalf.
It seemed all kinds of wrong that Lorenzo Remington was in this room rather than with his wife. Would that help? Did they realize they weren’t together? The doctor had said no when she’d asked, but something deep within said he was wrong. She believed the Remingtons knew they were apart, which was why she’d stayed with them until Nash arrived at the hospital and why she wouldn’t have left if anyone other than Duke had been the first to show.
Audrey had no idea how the others viewed her since she hadn’t stayed in touch with anyone other than Lor and Lacy. And she always steered clear of the paint horse ranch when one of grandchildren visited, respecting their time with their family. All of the Remingtons worked as US marshals and were busy with their careers. Between the six of them, visits were often short.
Audrey took a deep breath. Being in the hospital flooded her with bad memories—memories that made the simple act of breathing difficult. The image of her baby sister, all red hair and freckles, on a gurney, all pale, bruised and helpless, assaulted her.
Other memories accompanied the image. Memories she’d spent a lifetime trying to block out.
She strained to listen for noise in the next room. What was happening in there?
“I should check on the horses,” Nash said. The older gentleman twisted a ball cap in his hands. He looked uncomfortable, out of place even, away from the barn and the horses he loved so much. Nash was as much a part of the land at Remington Paint Ranch as the dirt and structures that made up the place.
“I’ll call the minute I hear word,” Duke promised after embracing the man in a bear hug.
Nash gave a slight nod before walking to the side of Lorenzo’s bed. He took his best friend and boss’s hand before saying something Audrey couldn’t quite pick up. Lorenzo was breathing through tubes, unconscious. Watching Nash squeeze Lorenzo’s hand and ask him to wake up was enough to cause tears to spring to her eyes. The ranch foreman was every bit a part of the Remington family as Duke and the others.
Audrey was the only one truly out of place despite the summer she’d spent with them and how much they’d made her feel welcome. Audrey didn’t belong anywhere. Not in Dallas. Not in Mesa Point. Not at the ranch.
Not since leaving Duke.
Audrey mentally shook off the reverie as the door opened and closed behind Nash.
Duke turned to face the window. He raked a hand through his hair again. It was the move he always did when he was at a loss. Her chest squeezed as she wished there was something she could do to ease his pain in the way he had hers all those years ago.
When nothing came to mind, she did the only thing she knew: she walked over to him and wrapped her arms around his midsection before resting her forehead on his muscled back. She feared she’d gone too far when he tensed, but then he slowly turned to face her, looping his arms around her.
For a long moment they stood there, holding each other. It was as though time warped, and she was caught in the wave. Memories bathed her in warmth. Memories of her first kiss.
Duke had parked out at the lake not far from where she lived now. They’d walked hand in hand to the bank as they’d done a dozen times before. That night, the stars shone brighter than she recalled ever seeing them. His hand was warmer, moist. She chalked it up to being hot, but later looking back, she realized how nervous he’d been. He came across so cool and mature it hadn’t crossed her mind that night that it was his first kiss, too. It wasn’t until weeks later, right before she left, that he’d admitted it to her.
By sixteen, she believed she’d experienced the worst life could hand her and that she could handle everything else. She’d lost everyone and everything she ever loved. Keeping everyone at arm’s length had kept her safe, kept her standing straight as the world around her crumbled time and time again.
No amount of rationalizing had prepared her for the pain of walking away from this man. Sixteen shouldn’t have been when she was introduced to the best person she would ever know.
In some ways, though, it made life easier. Less painful. Because nothing since had compared to that particular depth of heartache. At the time, she’d been convinced she had contracted some kind of life-threatening sickness. Every part of her body ached. She wanted to throw up every time she managed to push herself to standing. The room would spin.
Child services had located an uncle who was willing to take her after she left the ranch. The bastard kept her for three months before she ran away. She scrounged enough money to buy day-old bread and peanut butter by offering to clean or babysit. She found a couple willing to provide a roof over her head and meals in exchange for babysitting services. At one point, the owners of two different restaurants took pity on her and gave her leftover food if she waited at their back doors around closing time once the babysitting job ended after the husband was offered a job in Colorado.
One of the owners had pure intentions. The other did not.
Audrey had fought owner number two off by ramming her knee where no man wanted to be hit. It gave her enough advantage to loosen his viselike grip around her arms so she could run. She ran all the way home that night, begging her uncle to take her back, and never returned to either restaurant again.
Audrey involuntarily trembled at the memory. He’d called her names, told her she was ungrateful, and then treated her like his personal servant all the while collecting checks to “take care of her” until she turned eighteen when he happily booted her out.
“What is it? What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” she responded, taking a step back. Trusting anyone, especially a man, wasn’t something she could see herself doing. Not even Duke.
Chapter Seven
Duke felt the tension in Audrey’s body a second before she pulled away. He got the message. She’d reached the end of the line when it came to offering comfort. When it came to Audrey, an end was inevitable.
It was a good reminder to keep his distance.
Turning away, he caught his grandfather’s hand twitching. Duke immediately moved to his bedside and took a knee. He held Grandpa Lor’s hand in his as he studied the older man’s face. A bandage covered a gash high on his forehead. The bruising on his cheek where it hit the steering wheel looked the same as earlier. At least there wasn’t any additional swelling since he was last here.
Calling a nurse might take resources away from his grandmother, so he watched his grandfather for signs he was waking up out of his coma.
“Hey, Grandpa Lor. It’s Duke,” he whispered as hot tears pricked his eyes. Did his grandfather know his wife was in trouble? Did he somehow sense it?
Those two had the kind of connection others aspired to but rarely achieved. One of their sons found it but died young, and the other one gave up on family life after having three kids.
