Fire On The Farm (Second Chance Cowboy Romance)

by Betty Shreffler

  Days will pass and I will miss you.

  I’ll miss you every day.

  I’ll think of you when the wind whispers

  And the sun embraces my skin.

  I’ll hold you close to my heart

  And not forget the last words we spoke

  Before we had to part.

  I’ll miss you until I can join you, my love.

  My pacing was causing a track in the hardwood floor. I dialed Brock again. Straight to voicemail. I palmed my face as panic dug its claws further into my chest. I didn’t know what to do. My trembling hand raised the phone to dial again. It rang and I nearly dropped it in my desperate effort to answer it.

  “Amy?” The fear in Bethany’s voice stabbed right to my core.

  “Where is he?” I asked, panicked.

  “He’s been in an accident.”

  “How bad?”

  “It’s bad, Amy. Get here as soon as you can.”

  The hard surface of the floor sent dull aching pain through my knees as they gave out beneath me. The dial tone sounded in my ears, competing with the loud thud of my heart, threatening to tear out of my chest. I couldn’t, I wouldn’t lose control. I swiped the phone off the floor and wiped away the tears rolling down my face. I slid into the closest pair of boots and rushed out the door.

  My shaky, sweaty palm clenched my keychain in hand as I quickly cleared the distance from the entrance of the hospital to the receptionist desk.

  “My fiancé, Brock Baisdin, was brought into the hospital this evening. What room is he in?”

  Every excruciating second of her clicking on the keyboard only worsened my rising fear.

  “He’s in surgery, ma’am. You’ll have to wait in the family waiting room. Second floor, room 2032.”

  Walking through the hospital, not knowing what condition Brock was in, brought back every agonizing memory of the day I lost Darrell. The fear of losing Brock was too much. My hand touched the wall for support. The dizziness kept me from taking a step further. My shoulder replaced my hand and I turned my body, putting my back against the wall. My knees gave way beneath me as my tears dampened the floor below.

  It took several moments and a nurse asking me if I needed help for me to regain my composure and walk to the waiting room. Immediately, I saw Bethany and their mother, Johann. Bethany rushed to greet me and folded me into her arms. More tears escaped my swollen eyes.

  Johann’s brows pinched inward. Her emotions were apparent by the scowl on her face. Bethany released me, but I didn’t want to let go. I held her hand in mine.

  “Is he still in surgery?”

  Bethany shook her head. “He’s out. He’s…”

  I squeezed her hand as the knot in my stomach enlarged. “What?”

  “The doctors have him in an induced coma to protect his brain from swelling. He had head trauma in the accident.”

  The sound that escaped me was a combination of weeping and choking on the vomit rising up my esophagus.

  Bethany nudged me toward a chair. My head fell into my hands as more tears gushed like an opened floodgate. Bethany rubbed my back, trying to soothe me.

  “You can go in and see him.”

  My breath left me the moment I walked into his hospital room. Cords were attached to different parts of his face and bare chest along with a sling on his arm. Bandages covered what were surely painful skin abrasions. The heart monitor and breathing machine sounded next to me and reminded me to let my own breath out. Through watery eyes, I reached out and tucked my hand under his large, warm hand. When he didn’t respond to my touch, my heart shattered like sharp, broken shards of fragile glass.

  This was my fault. I’d asked him to hurry home to me and because of my inability to handle loss, he was now suffering. I’d done this to him. My words caught below the knot in my throat. I wiped the stray tears from my cheeks as I looked at his expressionless face.

  “Please forgive me.”

  A couple hours passed with me by his side, holding his hand in mine while listening to the sound of the heart monitor echo throughout the room. My tired eyes fought to close, but I wouldn’t let them. I wanted to watch him and remember what it felt like to be held in his arms, to have his whispered words tickle my ear and the feel of his strong hands running over my skin. I wanted to remember the sound of his voice, his smell, and the way his love filled every crevice of my heart, body and soul.

  “Please stay with me.”

  More than anything, I hoped he could hear me, that somewhere inside, he was fighting with all his strength to come back to me.

  “You can’t leave me. I can’t bear to lose you too.”

  My head lifted from resting on his thigh as I heard the shuffle of feet cross the floor. Bethany’s hand took hold of my shoulder. Johann and a nurse came into view.

  “Mrs. Flanders?”

  Focusing on his face through weary eyes, I nodded. “Yes?”

  “I’m Regan. I’m the attending nurse and will be periodically stopping in to check on Mr. Baisdin throughout the night. We’ve done everything we can to make Mr. Baisdin comfortable. If you need anything, you can press the red button on the remote there and if you have any questions, his doctor will be in tomorrow morning.”

  “How long do you think he’ll be like this?” Johann asked.

  Regan turned to her. “At this point, it’s a waiting game. The doctor will continue to monitor and run tests to ensure the swelling in his brain has gone down. If it does, he’ll ease him off the medications.”

  “And if he doesn’t get better? If the swelling doesn’t go down?” she asked, her voice shaking.

  “That’s something Dr. Owens will be able to answer better.”

  Regan gave a sympathetic smile. We all knew what it meant if Brock didn’t get better. As my sobs broke loose, Regan politely took his leave. Bethany cried next to me, holding me in her arms.

  “I’m so sorry, Amy.”

  There was no consoling me.

  The next morning, I pried my tear-stained face from the hospital sheet that covered Brock as the doctor and nurse walked in. He took his time explaining all of Brock’s injuries and the hope he had for Brock’s recovery. He suggested I take a break and take care of myself, but I had no intention of leaving Brock’s side, at least not until Bethany or Johann arrived. I didn’t want Brock left alone. He needed to know we were there beside him, fighting alongside him, exactly like he would do for any of us.

  Just as the doctor and nurse finished checking Brock’s medication and stats, my phone rang. The battery was near dead. I was going to need my charger and a change of clothes soon. A glance at the screen told me Rick was calling about Ransom.

  “Good Morning, Amy. Jared filled me in on Ransom. I’m sorry to see him go. That was a fine horse you had.”

  I wept against the phone, not just from the loss of Ransom, but the words I had to say next.

  “Brock was in a bad accident last night. I’m at the hospital with him. It’s not good, Rick.”

  “Jesus, Amy. What can I do?”

  “Would you mind taking care of the horses for me, so I can stay here with Brock?”

  “Of course. Jared already called Andrea. She’ll be coming by today. Do you want us to bury Ransom here on the property?”

  “Yes, please. I’ll be by soon. I need to stop home for clothes and necessities.”

  “Do what you need to, darlin’. We have it handled here.”

  Johann and Bethany walked in moments after the doctor and nurse. I stopped rubbing along Brock’s arm and stood to greet them.

  “Any changes?” Bethany asked.

  With a knot in my stomach, I shook my head.

  “You look exhausted. You should go home and get some rest.”

  “I am going to stop home, but only to shower and get an overnight bag. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

  By the time I pulled up my driveway, Rick had already dug a burial spot with the backhoe. I rushed inside, wanting to avoid the scene that wou
ld be next. A quick shower and my bag packed had me ready to return to the hospital. Rick spotted me as I tossed my duffel in the truck.

  “Amy.”

  I turned to face him, no doubt I looked worn.

  “Come here, darlin’.”

  Rick wrapped me in his arms.

  “You don’t deserve this. Any of this.”

  It seemed my life was destined to be filled with tears and heartbreak. My weeping left damp circles in his flannel shirt. He gently released me.

  “You want to say good-bye to Ransom?”

  “I said my good-bye yesterday. I can’t do it again.”

  Rick nodded, clearly understanding my state of emotions.

  “Go to your man. I’ll put in some extra shifts.”

  “Thank you, Rick. I’ll ensure you’re compensated.”

  Rick nodded as I left.

  Returning to the hospital was gut-wrenching. The stench of cleaning supplies, plastic, and death loomed around me, taunting me. I walked in to find Brock alone. Johann and Bethany had likely left to find something to eat in the hospital cafeteria. I set my bag down and took the chair next to Brock. I filled him on the activities I’d done and talked about our recent trip to the race track just like the doctor instructed me to. My conversation remained with everything in the past. Every time I imagined our future, the words caught in my throat. I had to be realistic. The future wasn’t promised.

  Footsteps behind me had me turning my head quickly. Brock’s friend John stood in the doorway staring at Brock with utter shock on his face.

  “When Bethany called, it hadn’t sunk in, but now it’s real.”

  “The doctor says we should talk to him, hearing familiar voices will help him heal. Would you like some time alone with him?”

  John nodded, never taking his eyes off Brock’s motionless body. I stood and pointed at the chair for him to take.

  “The doctor recommended that we say his name and talk about past events he was a part of.”

  I waited just outside the room while John sat next to Brock. When the man’s own voice grew shaky, and I heard him fighting back tears, that’s when I broke down. My back slid down the wall, and my head fell into my hands. I kept my sobs quiet as John reminisced about the times they played ball together, got their first trucks, tore through the neighbor’s corn fields then had to spend the next few weeks working off the losses. When John thanked Brock for being there for him when his mom died, I couldn’t keep it together any longer. I stood and went to find Johann and Bethany.

  I met them in the hallway, returning from lunch. Bethany’s eyes enlarged when she saw me. She took hold of me, and my head fell to her shoulder as I cried. Johann ran to Brock’s room, clearly concerned the worst had happened. She stepped out of the room and glared at me as I approached.

  “Was that necessary? To scare me like that? Why don’t you try to hold yourself together for him, at least?”

  Her cheeks puffed out as she let out an angry breath. Her shoulder rubbed against mine as she stormed past us.

  “I’ll be back later tonight,” she told Bethany. “I’d prefer it if you weren’t here, Amy. I’d like some time alone with my son.”

  “Ma!”

  “He’s my son. I have every right to want time alone with him.”

  I squeezed Bethany’s hand. “It’s all right. She’s right. I’ll go now. You can stay.”

  Johann was clearly happy with my choice. I returned to Brock’s room for my bag. Giving a sympathetic nod to John, I leaned over Brock and kissed him good-bye.

  “I’ll see you tomorrow, Brock. I love you.”

  “You’re leaving?”

  I tilted my head toward Johann. “She deserves some time alone with her son.”

  John looked from me to Johann and back to me again. He nodded, seeming to understand perfectly.

  “I’m going to head out too. I’ll walk with you.”

  With my bag in hand, I slipped my free arm around Bethany and said good-bye. I gave a cordial smile to Johann and then walked out with John.

  “How bad is it?” he asked.

  “The doctor isn’t saying much more than they are making Brock as comfortable as they can, that they’ll continue to monitor him for improvement, and for us to stay positive.”

  “Damn, that sounds bleak. How are you holding up?”

  “This is the first time I haven’t cried in the last twenty-four hours.”

  “When is the last time you ate something?”

  That question had me thinking. I couldn’t remember the last time I had eaten and I wasn’t sure I could if I tried.

  “Some time yesterday.” I glanced over at his concerned expression. “Don’t worry. I’m fine.”

  “You know Brock will fight like hell to get back to you, don’t you? He loves you more than I’ve ever seen him love anything.”

  A shiver ran through my body. I stopped in my tracks and lost all composure. John put his hands in his pockets and nervously shuffled his right foot.

  “I’m sorry, Amy. I didn’t mean to make you cry. It’s what I have to hang onto, you know? That his love for you will pull him through.”

  I sucked in my sobs and pulled my shoulders back. “I know. I’m sorry. I thought my days of crying were over when Brock proposed to me.”

  The ring on my finger suddenly caught my attention. I bit into my cheek, refusing to break into more sobs.

  “Why don’t I take you to get something to eat?”

  “I’m okay. Really. I just want to go home and get some rest.”

  “All right. Take care of yourself, okay?”

  I nodded to him and left him to find my truck in the parking lot. Once inside, I let out every emotion I was holding onto.

  For the first time, I didn’t want to go home. Home reminded me of all that I had lost. My home was cursed with death. It clung to the grounds and walls of every building. Instead, I went the opposite direction and drove to Brock’s house.

  Walking into his home brought with it comfort and sadness. It was filled with our memories and it made me second-guess my decision to come there. Seeing the couch and the place we laid by the fireplace reminded me of that night—the night he listened to me spill my heart. The night I realized how much he meant to me. I walked to the kitchen and pulled out two bottles of beer from the fridge. I carried them into his room, popped one, chugged it, then did the same with the second. Afterwards, I buried my face and body into the smell of him. I cried into the blanket until sleep owned me.

  As soon as I woke, my body slowly and begrudgingly sat up from the bed. I rubbed my swollen eyes and then reached for my nauseous stomach. Drinking on an empty stomach had been a bad idea. I rushed to the bathroom and threw up the contents of last night’s attempt to forget my current misery.

  Some mouthwash and a toothbrush solved the horrid taste in my mouth. There was no cooking breakfast after that, so I called Bethany to check on Brock.

  “Any changes?”

  “The doctor said they did another MRI this morning and will have the results for that soon. Other than that, the status is the same.”

  “I’ll be on my way shortly.”

  “Amy.”

  The sound of her hesitation had me sitting back down on the bed with my stomach twisting into an even worse knot.

  “What is it?”

  “I’m so sorry to have to say this, please know that I tried to persuade her differently, but my mother has asked for you not to visit anymore. She feels your presence is causing stress for the family and for Brock. She…she put you on the no access list. The hospital won’t let you in if you do come. She said she heard you asking Brock for forgiveness. She thinks this is somehow your fault. I’m so sorry, Amy. Believe me when I say I don’t agree with her decision, but she is Brock’s emergency contact and the executor of his will and there is nothing I can do.”

  The phone collapsed to the floor and my body followed it, sliding from the bed. I could hear Bethany’s voice in the distance calli
ng my name, but my body had gone numb. I couldn’t feel anything. I stared at the wall for what seemed like several minutes. Bethany’s voice faded and was followed by a dial tone and then my phone was silent. The room was silent.

  I know my body was in shock and my mind was desperately trying to catch up with the atrocious information I had just been given. When it finally sunk in, that I couldn’t see Brock, that I couldn’t be by his side to fight with him, to help him heal, to tell him how much I loved him, I lost all control. My body shook viciously and the tears wouldn’t stop. I screamed and wailed and thrashed against the side of the bed. I was losing the man I loved, once again. He was being ripped from me and there was nothing I could do. I felt helpless, alone, depressed and there was no one to give me comfort. I curled into a ball and wept until my body fell into sleep from exhaustion.

  When I woke, I wasn’t sure what day or time it was. I slowly ambled to the bathroom and turned the faucet to hot. Before stripping down, my stomach churned and I hugged the bathroom toilet as I expelled what little liquid was in there. After cleaning my face, I laid in the tub, trying to control my trembling body and broken, aching heart.

  Shriveled to a prune and now lying in cold water, I dried myself and grabbed whatever clothes I could find in my bag. Keeping my hands busy was all I could think to do. I moved like a thoughtless robot, cleaning Brock’s house and emptying his fridge of any food that would spoil, so at least if he woke from his injuries, he’d have a clean home to come back to.

  Once finished, I gathered my things and drove back to my home. My stomach growled, and I knew I needed food, but trying to eat was going to be a problem, especially with the nausea I had. When I pulled up to my house, Jared approached the truck. His eyes instantly widened as he looked me over.

  “Ames, you don’t look well.”

  I leaned forward as another wave of nausea pummeled my stomach. My head ached and objects were beginning to blur.

  “Can you help me inside?”

  Jared lifted me with ease and held me against him as he carried me through the door. He laid me on the couch and raised a pillow behind me.