She said a silent goodbye to a sleeping Barley and her puppies. Tears pricked the back of her eyes as she wandered into the kitchen to leave Maverick a note. There would be no hug or kiss or keep in touch. The end had come, and she stood there alone.
On the kitchen counter sat a stack of loose paper. She found a pen, and upon closer look at the papers, discovered they were letters. Not just any letters. Letters to Nicole. Written by hand and signed by Maverick. She would have ignored them, had she not caught a glimpse of her own name.
There was no date, but the letter had obviously been written sometime this week.
Hated each other on the spot… She’s the reason I fell in love with you… I hate that she’s here… If only she’d arrived two weeks from now…
Kennedy briefly glanced at the letters underneath. Maverick’s sweet, tender words brought tears to her eyes. She wiped them away with the back of her hand as she reread his most recent letter.
The one where he’d wanted her gone.
Heartbreak replaced sympathy. His words killed her. Filled her with grief and doubt and an uninvited stab in the middle of her chest. Had she completely misread him? Was she a game to him? Was spending time with her some sick way of dealing with his loss?
She pressed her fingers against her sternum to stave off the sharp pain and let out a breath. Her legs, already unsteady because of concern for Hugo, shook even more. Leaning against the counter for support, she sobbed.
Then blinking repeatedly, she turned the letter over to write her own.
Dear Maverick,
No worries. You never have to see me again.
Respectfully,
Kennedy
Her heart and head devastated by his thoughtlessness, she didn’t have it in her to say anything more.
…
Hours later and sick to her stomach with worry, Kennedy raced into the hospital to see Hugo. She knew the space like the back of her hand and rushed to the pediatric ICU, taking the stairs instead of the elevator to avoid the line of people waiting for it and to work off the extra tension thrumming through her veins.
With each step, a sense of comfort edged out her anxiety. The hospital was her safe place—she knew exactly how to be, how to help, how to trust in the competency of the staff. She breathed in the antiseptic scent and felt at ease. She took in the white walls and shiny flooring and light wood accents and tried to de-stress.
The second floor PICU was laid out so the highly trained staff could always have an eye on their patients, and Kennedy took just a second outside Hugo’s room to observe him and Maria while she caught her breath and gathered her strength.
Maria turned her head and met Kennedy’s eyes through the window. The unmistakable relief that washed across Maria’s face made Kennedy glad she’d rushed to get here to be bedside. She’d made it in time to offer support to her dear friend and whisper in Hugo’s ear that he better fight with everything he had.
“Kennedy,” Maria said, wrapping her arms around Kennedy in a motherly embrace. “Thank you so much for coming.”
Kennedy had never hugged anyone tighter. “There’s no place else I’d rather be.”
They broke apart, and Kennedy excused herself to talk to Hugo’s nurse for an update. Brain hypoxia—oxygen deficiency to the brain—could be mild or severe. Brain cells began to die after just five minutes of oxygen loss, and Kennedy prayed emergency medical personnel had gotten to Hugo before then.
According to the nurse, Hugo had displayed only mild symptoms (thank God!) when brought in: problems moving his arms and legs, inattentiveness, and some memory issues. Because of his long QT syndrome, doctors remained concerned about his heart as well, though, and elevated his status to critical. His pacemaker had failed, and chances were high he’d need a replacement. But first they had to make sure he had proper brain function.
Because of Hugo’s heart disease, he was on a ventilator and receiving IV fluids that included medications for seizure control and blood pressure. Kennedy squeezed Maria’s hand by Hugo’s bedside as she explained what she’d learned from the nurse.
“He’s going to be okay,” she whispered.
He had to be.
Then she gently held Hugo’s hand and told him to fight. She told him he had a birthday party coming up and he was the star of the show. She told him no one did magic tricks like he did and so he’d better get well so he could do them. She told him he was the bravest kid she knew and stronger than he realized.
“Why don’t you go home for an hour or two?” Kennedy said to Maria. She’d been at the hospital all night, and while Kennedy knew Maria wouldn’t go home to sleep, she could grab a hot shower and something to eat. Food and drink weren’t allowed in the PICU. “I won’t leave his side,” she added, sitting in the chair next to the bed. “I promise.”
“Okay,” Maria said with reluctance. “Thank you. I won’t be long.”
Kennedy settled more comfortably into her seat, eyes glued to Hugo, prayers for a full recovery playing on repeat in her head. She sent Reed a short text explaining her absence and wishing him a happy wedding and wonderful honeymoon.
Hugo’s cardiologist came into the room, and Kennedy greeted him warmly. He was happy to see her again but wished the circumstances were different. He told Kennedy several brain scans and cardiac tests had been ordered and, once Hugo stabilized, they’d most likely replace his pacemaker. Hugo had a tough couple of weeks ahead of him, but if he could get through this, he’d get through anything.
He was young and resilient, and for the next hour she watched him sleep, zero doubt he’d kick butt.
Visiting hours ended at seven p.m., and while she could have probably stayed longer given her previous employment at the hospital, Maria urged her to go home and return in the morning.
Walking out the sliding glass doors of the hospital felt like leaving the Arctic and entering the rain forest. The humidity was a welcome change, and she paused by the large potted plant to peel off her sweater and put her travel bag down so she could text for a ride home.
Phone in hand, she heard a giggle she’d recognize anywhere and looked up. Her sister Victoria stood across the way laughing at something Trevor had said. They were walking arm-in-arm in the direction of the doctors’ parking lot, him in his scrubs and Tori in a pretty light blue sundress. Kennedy hadn’t missed seeing them together. But she also didn’t suffer any ill will. A strange but welcome sense of indifference settled over her instead.
They were happy together.
Long live their happiness.
Because Kennedy had been reminded how fragile life could be. And she knew deep down that Trevor had never made her happy. Their relationship had been built around convenience, a shared profession under the same roof with similar goals and pressures. Victoria made his face light up in a way she never had. She brought something else to his life.
The betrayal Kennedy had suffered might always linger, but it wasn’t because of Trevor and a love lost. It was because of the difficult relationship with her sister.
As they disappeared from view, she wiped a single tear off her cheek. It had been a heck of a day. A day, she suddenly realized, without a word from Maverick. Had he seen her note? She rolled her lips together to keep more tears from falling. Did she even want to hear from him?
“Hey, Blondie! Need a ride?” a familiar voice called out.
She turned to the street to find her best friend waving from the driver’s seat of his car through the open passenger-side window. Warmth and love engulfed her. Relief. She picked up her bag, jogged over, and hopped in. “What are you doing here?” She thought he’d be at the wedding, dancing with Liam and moving smoothly between accents and occupations.
“I hit the road shortly after you left.” He pulled away from the curb. “No way was I going to let you deal with this by yourself. I know how important Hugo is to you.�
��
Another tear slid down her face. This time she knew exactly why: Andrew was more than her best friend. He was her family. The one she got to choose.
“I love you,” she said.
“I know.” He grinned. “I love you, too. I’m sorry you missed the wedding.”
At mention of the wedding, and knowing Hugo was likely to be okay, she couldn’t hold her feelings in any longer. “I am, too. I was counting on you to tell me about it.”
“I’m sure you’ll get details from Reed.”
“Not about…” The man who broke her heart. The man she couldn’t get out of her head and who, despite what he’d written and what she’d written, she wished she could see one more time. She missed him even though she was unbelievably hurt by him.
“Maverick,” Andrew said, finishing her thought aloud.
“I can’t stop thinking about him. I’ve never felt this way before, and the timing sucks. I’ve got Boston and he’s got Europe and feelings to sort out, and I’m afraid I’ll never see him again, and saying that out loud hurts. It hurts so badly.”
“I’m sorry.” Andrew squeezed her hand. “There is something you should know about him, actually.”
“No, thank you. He hurt me and the best thing to do right now is focus on Hugo.”
A look of indecision crossed Andrew’s face before he said, “How is he?”
Kennedy shared everything she knew until they pulled to a stop in front of her apartment building. “Do you want to come in and crash here?”
“Thanks, but I think I’ll head home. I’ll check in with you in the morning and go to the hospital with you if you want.”
She gave him a kiss on the cheek. “Sounds good.”
Her key was barely in the lock of her apartment when Ava flung the door open and hurled herself at her, wrapping Kennedy in a one-sided hug. “I’m so glad you’re home!”
“Me too,” Kennedy said, grateful for the mega-squeeze. She’d texted Ava a few times to keep her up to date on Hugo and her ETA.
“I made you a sandwich,” Ava said, releasing her hold and ushering Kennedy inside. “Sit down and I’ll bring it to you.”
Kennedy collapsed onto the couch. “You’re the best,” she said.
Ava delivered the food on a plate and included a glass of apple juice. She sat next to Kennedy, an expectant look on her face.
“Nothing new to report,” Kennedy said, lifting the sandwich. “Hopefully he’ll show signs of improvement tomorrow and we’ll go from there.”
“He’s tough. He’ll be okay.”
Kennedy nodded, then took a few bites of her sandwich. She didn’t have much of an appetite, but Ava had been nice enough to make her something, and she hadn’t eaten anything all day, save for a granola bar at the airport.
“You didn’t tell me how you left things with Maverick,” Ava said after Kennedy put her plate on the coffee table.
“It…it just ended.”
“What do you mean just ended? Like he said he doesn’t want to talk to you again?”
“We didn’t say goodbye. I couldn’t find him before I left.”
“Can’t you text him?”
“I don’t have his number.” A little silver lining in all of this: she wouldn’t be tempted to get in touch with him.
“How hard can it be to find? Just call the inn.”
Tempting, but…
Ava narrowed her eyes. “Something happened. What was it?” She crossed her legs in her lap, settling in for a discussion.
Kennedy knew her sister, and if she didn’t give her some explanation, she’d bug her relentlessly. She also knew herself, and if she didn’t talk through the letter she’d found, she’d be up all night thinking about it.
“When I went to say goodbye to him this morning, he wasn’t home, so I let myself in to his house to leave him a note.”
“Okay.”
“I found some letters he’d written to Nicole on his kitchen counter, and in one of them he mentioned me.”
At Ava’s frown, she added, “I think he wrote the letters to stay close to her and to cope with his feelings. Which is admirable, and I’m ashamed I peeked at them. I shouldn’t have. But maybe they were left out for a reason. So I could feel his love for someone else and be reminded that Maverick isn’t the first man to—”
“Stop right there. Maverick is nothing like our soon-to-be brother-in-law the asshole.”
“I know,” she agreed. Deep down she knew that, but on the surface, it helped to think otherwise.
“You said one of the letters was about you. What did it say?”
Kennedy had memorized most of it, so she recited what she remembered. When finished, she let out a deep breath. “Was I a joke to him?”
“What are you talking about? For someone so smart, you are really dense sometimes.”
“Excuse me?”
“He called you intriguing and smart and his equal, Ned. He said you’re the reason he fell in love with Nicole.”
“So?” She crossed her arms over her chest.
“So! He was in love with you.” She didn’t need to say, “Duh.” It came through like a bullhorn.
“Don’t be ridiculous. We hated each other.”
“There’s a fine line between love and hate.”
“Now you sound like Andrew.”
“It’s true! He basically admitted he had feelings for you he never acted on, so when he met Nicole, he realized he’d been pigheaded and didn’t want to miss another chance at being with someone amazing.”
“But he hated that I was on the ranch. He wished I’d arrived after he’d left.”
“Because his feelings came back! Probably worse because you’re even more incredible now. You freaked him out and he didn’t know what to do, so yeah, he might have wanted you gone, but that was before you guys spent time together! From what you’ve said, he sounds like a man with integrity, and there’s no way he’d toy with your emotions if he didn’t genuinely like you.”
Kennedy let that sink in. She allowed her mind to go to how wonderful it had felt to be with him—on outdoor adventures, birthing puppies, in a bookstore, eating sushi at his kitchen counter, slow dancing, and wrapped in each other’s arms.
He’d shown her he cared. Whispered it, too.
“He said he planned to be scarce, and then you showed up and he was around all the time, right? That’s because he wanted to see you. He might not have been willing to admit it out loud, but his actions speak for themselves.”
Could Ava be right? Had Kennedy misinterpreted certain parts of the letter he’d written because she was scared? Because leaving on bad terms was much easier than leaving on good terms and wondering what if things were different?
“You need to get his number and call him.”
“I don’t know.”
“I do. I may be younger, but I know what I’m talking about.”
“It’s too late, and right now I need to stay focused on my career.”
“You can have a boyfriend and a career.”
“Whatever, Miss Expert. Let’s talk about you and your potential boyfriend instead.” Ava’s coffee date had been, to quote, “like the best scene out of a rom-com.”
And just like that, her sister switched topics. She spoke nonstop for a solid five minutes and Kennedy soaked it up, loving the enthusiasm in Ava’s voice and the happiness written all over her face.
The minutes reminded her of standing in the Owens’s kitchen with Mary Rose and Nova. She reached into her pocket and rubbed her fingers over the glass ladybug she’d kept on her since receiving it.
“Can I ask you something?” Kennedy said when Ava took a breath. “Did you ever talk to Mom about personal stuff like sex?”
“Eww. No,” Ava said, nose wrinkled in disgust. “Did you?”
Kennedy
shook her head.
“She isn’t that kind of mom,” Ava said. No, she wasn’t. Not like Maverick’s mom, who talked openly with her daughter. She put people at ease and had such a warm and welcoming manner about her that Kennedy had easily shared parts of herself she didn’t normally divulge with someone she’d just met.
“You never asked me about it.”
“That’s because you were in med school and I didn’t want to bother you. I did think about asking, though.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. We talk about everything now.”
“Did you talk to anyone?”
Ava smiled. “I talked to Andrew. He told me everything. Bought me condoms. And said I should never feel pressured to go further than I was comfortable with.”
“He never told me that,” Kennedy said, once again beyond grateful for her best friend.
“Because I asked him not to. I didn’t want you to worry about me. And don’t say you wouldn’t have, because that’s a lie.”
“I knew he looked out for you, but not quite that much.” Making it much easier for Kennedy to focus on her studies.
“He’s the best big brother a girl could ask for.”
“We owe him dinner.”
“We owe him, like, fifty.”
“He drove home today. Picked me up at the hospital.”
Ava gave a closemouthed smile. “I know. He texted me. He’s got a thing for us Martin girls.”
“That he does.” She laid her head back, her eyelids suddenly too heavy to keep open. She did have an amazing man in her life, and maybe one was enough.
Chapter Twenty-Four
The day of the wedding
Maverick arrived back on the ranch a little later than planned. Already dressed in slacks and a button-down shirt, he parked his truck at the inn and hurried to the gazebo to catch the tail end of the wedding ceremony.
He stood at the rear and watched the bride and groom inside the elevated wedding gazebo ensconced in lush greenery and decorated with colorful floral arrangements and ivy. A white runner divided rows of folding chairs, and at the end of every aisle stood slender planters overflowing with more flowers.
The Wedding Crasher and the Cowboy Page 25
