Soaring with Fallon (Big Sky 4)
“Whoa,” Brad says. “Slow down. Was Fallon the accident on the highway earlier tonight?”
“Yes, and she’s been in surgery for hours. I need information. I’m going crazy.”
“Noah.”
I glance up to find Drake walking toward us.
“Never mind, Drake’s here.” I hang up and hurry to the doctor. “Tell me she’s alive.”
“She’s alive,” he says and sighs. He has bags under his eyes as if he hasn’t slept in a week. “She’s out of surgery. She had a lacerated spleen and was bleeding out.”
“Jesus,” Gray mutters as my mom gasps.
“We have the bleeding under control, and I stitched her up. We had to give her a transfusion. She’ll be okay.”
“When can I see her?”
“She’s in recovery now, but she’ll be in a room within the hour, and you can be with her.” He shakes my hand. “I’ll be here all night, just to keep an eye on her.”
“How long have you been here?” I ask him.
He checks the time. “Going on eighteen hours now.”
“Thank you. I mean that.”
“Like I said, I don’t know what I’d do if it was Abby. I’ll stay through the night.” He nods and leaves, and I fold Mom in a tight hug.
“Thank God she’s okay,” she says.
“I need to see her,” I reply and nod in agreement. “But I’m relieved. You guys don’t have to stay. I’ll let you know if there’s any change.”
“We love her,” Autumn says and wipes a tear from her eye. “We all love her.”
“I know.”
Once the family leaves, another new nurse comes to get me and leads me down a long hallway, past a nurses’ station, to Fallon’s room. She’s hooked up to more machines, but she’s breathing on her own.
“Can I stay the night?” I ask quietly. “I’m her only family.”
“I don’t see why not,” the nurse says with a smile. “Just let her rest.”
I nod and pull up a chair beside Fallon, sit in it, and take her hand in mine. It’s cold.
I kiss the knuckles, and for the first time in a long time, I pray to whoever’s listening that she makes it through this okay. She has to.
Six months ago…hell, two months ago, I didn’t know that someone could come to mean so much. That the thought of being without them was like ripping my heart from my chest.
I study Fallon for a long time, watch her breathing in and out. The monitors beep rhythmically. The lights are dim. Finally, I let myself drift to sleep.
* * * *
My neck is killing me.
I wake up and glance around, confused for a brief second, but it all immediately comes flooding back.
My neck hurts because I slept in the chair with my head resting on the bed next to Fallon’s hip.
She hasn’t moved. That worries me.
The nurse that led me in here walks in and checks the monitors.
“Should she still be asleep?” I ask.
“It’s not unheard of,” she says. “She’ll wake up in a little while. Her body went through quite the trauma. She’s healing.”
She smiles and then walks out, and I’m left alone with the love of my life.
“Good morning,” I murmur softly. “You scared me, baby. More like terrified, actually.”
I sigh and kiss her hand. It flexes slightly.
“You’re listening.”
Her lips move, but she doesn’t say anything.
“You just rest, and I’ll talk.” I reach up and brush a piece of hair off her bruised cheek. Now that I really look, she has more bruises that showed up through the night—on her shoulders, her face, and her arms. “God, Fal, that Jeep kicked your ass.”
“Yeah,” she whispers. “Hurts.”
A wave of relief courses through me at the sound of her weak voice.
“I can ask them to give you more medicine.”
“No. Don’t want to sleep.” She licks her lips and opens one eye, searching for me. “Love you.”
“God, I love you, too.” Tears threaten, but I don’t give a shit. “You almost left me last night.”
“Didn’t mean to.”
“I know.” I swallow hard. “Fal, we talked about this, remember? Whether it’s moving out of state or dying on me, you’re not leaving. It’s just not happening.”
“Bossy.”
I swipe at a tear and smile at her. “Yeah, I’m bossy. You can’t leave just when it’s getting good around here. We have so much to do together, honey. There are thousands of amazing days ahead of us, and you’re not going to cheat me out of them, you hear me?”
She squeezes my hand three times.
“Not going anywhere.”
“Good.” It feels so damn good to hear her voice. “Are you cold?”
“Cold. Hurts.”
“I know. Let’s get you more medicine.”
“’Kay.”
I press the red call button and let the nurse know that Fallon’s awake, cold, and in pain.
“We can fix that,” she says with a smile. “I’ll be right back.”
She returns with a couple of warm blankets, a new bag of liquid to hook up to Fallon’s IV, and then pulls a bottle and a syringe out of her rolling cart after entering something on the computer.