Hope for Tomorrow

by Elizabeth Maddrey

  “Just lately. He’ll stop mid-sentence and stare at me. Then he seems to come back slowly and will limp around for a day or two.” Her mom offered a watery smile. “He played it off as a joke and I let him. Oh my word.”

  Skye rubbed her mom’s back, only vaguely conscious of Morgan sending Royal to put on more than the boxers he’d been sleeping in and then watch for the ambulance. She looked up and met Morgan’s steady, reassuring gaze, but nothing stopped the guilt that ate away at her heart.

  Had she caused this? Was she going to end up responsible for her father’s death?

  “What do you want to do?” Morgan slid his arms around Skye and pulled her close.

  Skye rested her head on his shoulder and tried to ignore the muted hospital sounds. There was no real news. They’d followed the ambulance carrying her parents—Mom had insisted on riding in the back with Dad—and now there was nothing to do but wait. No one had come out with word of what was going on. “I don’t know.”

  “It took a lot to get the appointment at Mayo.”

  “I know.” But there was no guarantee those doctors were going to be able to find a solution. All she had ahead of her tomorrow was a whole bunch of tests. That wasn’t more important than her dad. Even if he’d cheated. Even if he’d betrayed everyone. He was still her father. Was she supposed to go on about her business when he was in the hospital? “But Mom . . .”

  “Royal’s still here. And Cyan and Betsy and Wayne are on the way out.”

  She nodded slightly. “I still haven’t gotten ahold of Indigo, but she’s the closest. I know she’ll come up.”

  “You don’t have to decide right now. It’s only two hours to Phoenix and the hotel has your card on file, right?”

  “Yeah.”

  “So they’ll hold your room. You can show up as late as you need.”

  Skye closed her eyes and breathed in the comfort of Morgan’s arms. He wasn’t pushing one way or the other. He just listed options with no judgment. Was that helpful or annoying? Maybe somewhere in between. “What do you think I should do?”

  “I can’t answer that.”

  Skye frowned and tipped up her head to study his face. “But you have an opinion, surely?”

  He shook his head. “I can’t tell you the right thing to do. You have to figure out what’s the most important. Find the choice that you can live with the best.”

  Skye stepped back, her frown deepening. “If the situation was reversed—if this was your family—what would you do?”

  “I’m not you, Skye. Even if I gave you all the reasons for the choice I think I’d make right now, that’s not any kind of guideline.”

  “So you won’t help? I need your help, Morgan.”

  He drew in a slow, deep breath. “Let’s talk through the options. If you stay, you miss your appointment tomorrow. Is there a missed appointment charge? Can you afford it? And how far does that set you back in terms of getting to reschedule? Can you try to get in on a cancellation basis, maybe?”

  “I don’t know.” Skye tossed her hands in the air and stalked two steps away. She didn’t need to be playing a game of twenty questions right now. She needed to know what to do! How did any of this help?

  Morgan rested his hand on her shoulder.

  Skye stiffened and refused to turn around.

  “If you stay, what will you do? We’re not even completely positive what happened, right?”

  “The EMTs said a stroke.” Her voice caught on the last word as the image of her father toppling off his chair flashed through her mind.

  “Okay, yeah. But one, we don’t know for sure. That was their guess. And two? What kind? I did a little web searching—the prognosis is very different depending on what actually happened in his brain. And that’s all assuming stroke. He could have had a heart attack.”

  Skye buried her face in her hands as tears slipped down her cheek. It hadn’t seemed like a heart attack. Not that she had first-hand experience with that. At all. But he hadn’t clutched at his chest or his arm. He’d slurred something and toppled. Wasn’t the slurring a sign of a stroke? She dashed away a tear and swallowed. “How is this helping me?”

  “You can’t make a decision if you don’t know the options. If you haven’t thought them through.”

  Did he have any idea how cold he sounded? Calm and logic in the face of crisis might be fantastic for a policeman, but it was terrible when all she really needed was for the man she loved to help her know what to do. “I can’t do this right now.”

  “You can take a few hours if you want, like I said. It’s not a long drive to Phoenix and I don’t mind making the return trip in the dark.”

  Her jaw dropped. “You’re not going to stay?”

  “That was never the plan. You’ve got a hotel. You’ve scheduled a ride. I can’t do anything for you while you’re there. And while it’s unlikely Indigo is going to be showing me around her livestock, I can come back up here and be an extra set of hands.”

  So he’d stay and help out her family while she ran off to get tests. Just great. “I should do that. They’re my family.”

  “And that’s one option. But Skye, no one else can do the medical testing for you.”

  “So what?” She took a deep breath and held it, fighting the anger that boiled in her chest. “Do you think I care about a day of tests when my dad could be back there dead right now?”

  Morgan tried to pull her back into his arms, but she struggled away. “Skye . . .”

  “Just don’t.” She held up a hand and bit her tongue before she said something she’d regret. “I’m going to find Royal and see if he’s had any luck getting Indigo on the phone. Then maybe we’ll be allowed to track down Mom and find out what’s happening.”

  He nodded and tucked his hands in his pockets. “Information is good.”

  Skye scowled at Morgan before stomping down the hall where Royal had disappeared. Her brother had said he needed food. Maybe he’d just wanted to give her and Morgan some space.

  Space from Morgan sounded like the perfect thing right about now.

  16

  “Have you heard from Skye?” Royal dropped into the seat next to Morgan and glanced around the mostly empty room. “For a hospital waiting room, this isn’t too bad. At least the seats are more comfortable than the ER yesterday.”

  Morgan clicked his phone to check the screen again and shook his head. He had signal. He was on the wifi. There was no reason Skye couldn’t get in touch when she had a break in the tests. It just seemed unlikely that she would. “Nothing yet. She’s probably busy. How’s your dad?”

  “Same. Mom and Indigo are refusing to say the word coma, but that’s what it is.” Royal looked out the window straight ahead. “He’s hooked up to a ton of machines—I’m not sure how much of the work his body is doing and how much is being done for him.”

  Morgan nodded. “They’re saying aneurysm now, right? Not a stroke.”

  “Yeah. I see the looks the doctors and nurses are giving and I wonder if it means they don’t think he’s going to make it.” Royal swallowed. “I wish I knew what Skye had been talking about with him.”

  “Why?” Morgan turned to look at Royal. “How would that help?”

  “Do you think she mentioned this Jade woman? If she did, what did he say? Did he have an excuse?”

  “Ah. I don’t know. She didn’t say . . . much, actually, when I drove her down to Phoenix last night.” Those had been some of the longest hours of his life. He’d tried for the first half of the trip to engage her in conversation—first about how she was feeling, and then trying to distract her. She’d frozen him out and ignored him. Finally, he’d given in and put on music. She’d pretended to sleep.

  Royal nodded. “Skye pulls in when she’s upset. I’m glad she went. It’s not like she could do anything here. At least there she’s making progress toward her own health. Hopefully.”

  Skye’s behavior seemed like more than “pulling in” because she was upset. Before he’d
tried to help her decide what to do, she’d been talking to him and clinging to him. After that? She’d pulled away and it was like she was encased in a thick block of ice. Morgan sighed. “I’m going to find the chapel and sit in there and pray. You want to come?”

  Royal checked the time on his phone and shook his head. “Nah. I’ll wait here. Cyan and the grandparents should be showing up before too much longer. I wonder if Mom’s going to let them see him.”

  Morgan took a minute to sort through that then nodded. When Betsy and Wayne had arrived in the evening with Cyan, Elise had made it clear that while she appreciated the thought, their presence would be too upsetting to her husband and had barred them from seeing him. Then Morgan and Skye had had to leave—Betsy had finally convinced Skye to go. From what Royal was saying, it hadn’t gotten any less tense.

  “I’ll pray for that situation, too.”

  “Thanks.” Royal scrubbed at his face. “Maybe if I can convince Mom that he’s covered well enough here, you and I can take her back to the house and try to get some actual rest?”

  “Yeah. That’d be good. Like I said, I’ll be in the chapel.” Morgan nodded goodbye and scanned the directional signs on the ceiling to find the hallway that would get him headed in the right direction.

  He needed to pray.

  He wanted to pray.

  Everything inside of him felt like it was tied in knots, choking off the words that he wanted to send to God.

  Maybe a change of scene would help.

  It couldn’t make things worse.

  Joaquin knocked on Morgan’s office door before coming in and sitting. “Just got off the phone with Indigo.”

  Morgan rubbed his forehead. A headache was building behind his eyes from staring at the computer. Wayne had asked him to officially take over all the ranch administration tasks while he and Betsy were in Arizona. It had only been a week and he was already regretting it. “Yeah? Are they coming home soon?”

  “Maybe. Indigo’s back at her place—she took me on a tour of the paddocks and barn she has set up.”

  “Martin?”

  “Getting discharged tomorrow. He came out of the coma on Friday and made enough progress over the weekend that he’s okay to be home. Apparently he’s even walking some, with assistance.”

  “Wow.” This was good. Miraculous, even. Why wasn’t he able to find joy? He looked across the desk at Joaquin and sighed. Because it should be Skye telling him this, not Joaquin. “How’s everyone else?”

  Joaquin’s mouth twitched. “I tried to find out, promise, but Indigo’s a vault. All she said is that Wayne and Betsy would probably stay the rest of the week and head home over the weekend.”

  “Royal?” Not that Morgan really cared that much one way or the other about Skye’s twin brother, but he also wasn’t quite ready to beg for information about the woman he loved. Joaquin snorted, his eyes dancing with mirth. Fine, so Morgan hadn’t fooled his friend. So be it. “Come on, man.”

  “Royal and Skye are planning to stay with their parents for at least another week to make sure their mom has the help she needs. I guess her dad may not recover all of his mobility and communication. He’s well enough to go home, but he’s not well.” Joaquin cocked his head to the side. “She’s not speaking to you still?”

  Morgan shook his head. He’d vented to Joaquin and Tommy when he got back to the ranch. Both of them understood the pain of bad relationships. Maybe that had been a bad idea.

  “You’ve called? Not texted, actually let the phone ring?”

  “Just once.”

  “Try again, man. It’s better than texting, you know this.”

  “I guess. I’m not convinced there’s a point, but I’ll try it.”

  “Let me know. I’m praying for you—both of you. Oh—Indigo did say that Skye got some sort of diagnosis. So that’s another answer to prayer.”

  Morgan’s heart sank into his toes. He tried to force a smile but his muscles wouldn’t cooperate. She’d gotten news and hadn’t been willing to tell him. That summed it up all the way, didn’t it? They were done. “I see. Thanks for letting me know.”

  Joaquin stood and tucked his hands in his pockets. “Sorry.”

  Morgan nodded and wiggled the mouse so his screen came back. What was he supposed to do? They needed to talk, and that was the one thing it seemed she was determined not to do.

  17

  Skye stood on the little concrete patio off the back of her parents’ house and tipped her face up to the sun. It was bright and warm . . . and she didn’t want to be here. She wanted to be with Morgan. Except every time she thought about texting him back or answering when he called, she froze. He’d said he loved her and then refused to help when she needed it most.

  Could she love someone like that?

  Well, she did love him. But that didn’t mean she should stay with him. Be with him. She could get over him if she had to.

  Even with her uncertainty about Morgan, she was ready to not be at her parents’ house. There was a reason she’d moved out when she turned eighteen. Lots of reasons, actually. Royal agreed. After initially saying he’d stay another week with her, now he was planning to head back to New Mexico on Saturday with the grandparents. Skye hadn’t made up her mind yet.

  “Skye, honey?” Her mom poked her head out the sliding glass door. “You want some lunch?”

  “Yeah, I guess. How’s Dad?”

  Her mom smiled. “He’s fine. Although he won’t tell me what the two of you were talking about Sunday morning. That’s not like him.”

  “Maybe he doesn’t remember. Didn’t the doctor say memory loss was possible?” She was grasping at straws. She didn’t want to be the one to have this conversation with her mother. Not now. Not after what happened with Dad.

  “I guess that’s possible. I don’t recall anything about memory loss, but it was a big brain trauma, so it’s possible.” Her mom stepped out onto the patio and slid the door closed. “Doesn’t really matter, you can tell me.”

  “Mom.”

  “Skye.”

  Skye groaned. “I don’t—”

  “Don’t you dare tell me you don’t remember. Don’t you lie to me. I may not have raised you with all the God stuff, but I raised you to be a good, honest person.”

  Skye closed her eyes. She hadn’t been planning to lie. But evasion wasn’t pretty, either. With a sigh, she pulled her phone from her pocket and scrolled to the DNA kit website. She cleared her throat and offered the phone to her mom. “I was asking him about this.”

  With a puzzled expression, her mom looked at the phone. Furrows formed in her forehead the longer she read. “I don’t understand what this is saying.”

  “Yes, you do.”

  “No.” Her mom shook her head and held out the phone. “No I don’t. It’s a mix up. Just ignore it.”

  Skye took the phone and put it back in her pocket. “It’s not a mix up. Dad—”

  “Your father did not cheat on me!”

  It was the closest to yelling Skye had ever heard her mom get. What was she supposed to do? “Okay, Mom. Why don’t we go inside and get lunch, like you said?”

  Her mother’s chest was heaving as she dragged in air. “What did he say? When you asked him, what did he say?”

  Skye studied the tips of her toes. “He said it was none of my business.”

  Her mom’s hand flew to her mouth, and she let out a strangled sob. When Skye took a step toward her, her mom shook her head, wrenched open the door, and fled inside.

  Skye followed slowly, careful to shut the door and latch it behind her. She was torn. Should she go after her mom? Try to comfort her? How? It wasn’t as if there were words that would make a betrayal less awful. She turned toward the kitchen instead.

  Royal and her Dad sat at the kitchen table playing cards. Betsy stood at the stove stirring something and Wayne leaned against the counter next to her. Her grandparents and her father had reached some sort of détente because of this whole thing. Dad still insi
sted they’d done him a disservice raising him to believe in myths and fairytales, as he phrased it. But they were here. In his home. Interacting. And that was something he’d sworn would never happen.

  So maybe there was a chance for a complete reconciliation.

  It seemed greedy to look for it. God had spared her father. Wasn’t one miracle enough?

  “Skye, honey, are you ready for some lunch?” Betsy smiled as she twisted the knob on the stove to turn it off. “We’re about ready. Do you think you could grab some bowls?”

  “Of course. It smells good.” Skye skirted the table and reached into the cabinet that held the dishes.

  “Just some soup. I know it’s a warm day, but it seemed like it’d be easier for Martin to swallow. And it was a favorite when he was a little boy.” Betsy sent Skye’s dad a look so full of love Skye wanted to cry.

  Her father said something that Skye couldn’t decipher.

  Royal leaned closer. “One more time?”

  Dad repeated it, a little clearer but Skye was still lost.

  Royal glanced at her. “Where’s Mom?”

  Oh. Of course. She set the bowls on the table. “I think she went to her room. I’ll go let her know it’s ready.”

  Skye hurried through the house and tapped on her parents’ bedroom door. “Mom? Dad’s asking where you are.” Silence. Skye knocked again. “Mom?”

  “I’m not hungry.”

  “Can I come in?” If her heart hadn’t been breaking into shards, Skye might have managed a smile for the reversal in roles. How many times had her mother come into the nook on the school bus where Skye hid when she was down?

  “Fine.”

  Skye pushed open the door. Her mom was curled into a tight ball on the bed. Skye sat beside her and stroked her hair. “I’m sorry.”

  “It wasn’t you.”

  “I know. And this is basically the same reaction I had. Royal, too.”

  Her mother squeezed her eyes shut. “He knows? Who else?”

  “Um. Everyone, I guess. Not Betsy and Wayne, although they suspect something’s up. But Royal and I weren’t sure what to do—we talked to Cyan and it all kind of blew up from there.”