Surrender To Sultry

by Macy Beckett

  “I’ll…um…” A soft sob choked off her words, but he refused to make eye contact. If he saw her cry, he’d never get the image out of his head. “I’ll think about it.”

  “Thanks. I’d appreciate that.”

  She sniffled and hiccupped in an effort to hold back her tears—awful noises that tore through his guts like shrapnel. Then she bolted from the room, leaving the door open so he heard the quick, light tap of her shoes retreating down the hall.

  Colt tossed aside his clipboard and tipped back his head. His insides felt raw, as if he’d injected acid into his veins and the burning solution was working its way into each and every muscle fiber beneath his skin. He hadn’t ached this badly since the day he’d woken up in the hospital wearing a full-body cast. If there was a pill for this, he’d pop it in an instant, no matter what the cost. This was probably how addicts felt. Now he understood what drove them to steal for a fix. He’d give anything to make the pain stop.

  But a warning voice at the back of his mind told him there was no escape…and this was just the beginning.

  Chapter 18

  “What?” A dollop of chili slipped from Rachel’s spoon, splattering against the diner’s Formica tabletop. Rachel licked the spoon clean and used it to point at Leah. “Don’t you dare let him run you out of town! I need you, Tink. This is where you belong, and if Sheriff McSensitive can’t handle seeing you around, then let him leave.”

  Leah sipped her iced tea and glanced around the room. Was it her imagination, or was everybody staring at her? “It’s not just Colt, it’s hard for me too. I ran into him at the drug store yesterday, and again this morning when I passed his cruiser on the way to the farmer’s market. I get butterflies every time I see him, and then I remember we’re not together anymore and it hurts so bad I want to throw up.” She slumped over and rested her chin in her hand. “It’s awful.”

  Rachel used a napkin to clean up her mess. “I get that, but the way I see it, you’re gonna hurt for a while. You can either hurt all alone in Minnesota, or here with friends and family who can help lift you up. If you stay, we can start over together—maybe get our own place.” She smiled and crumbled a cracker over her chili. “Think of all the trouble we could get into if we were roommates.”

  Yeah, but trouble made Leah think of getting arrested, which made her think of Colt, which made her ache all over. She stared into her tea and used her straw to poke at the ice cubes. No matter what she did, her life was in shambles.

  “Excuse me, Miss McMahon.”

  Leah glanced up at the waitress, a timid sixteen-year-old with a sweet smile on her lips and an enormous slice of cherry pie in her hand.

  “The owner said to tell you this is on the house.” The girl set the plate on the table with two forks and some extra napkins. “And congrats on the wedding.” She leaned down and whispered, “I think he wants to cater the reception, just so you know.” Before Leah had a chance to set her straight, the girl waved and strode away.

  Leah stared at her fruity offering. As if passing Colt twice a day wasn’t painful enough, she couldn’t take two steps in any given direction without someone congratulating her on an engagement that’d never happened. And never would. Maybe she should move back to Minnesota. At least there, nobody wanted to take her dress shopping or discuss color schemes.

  “Well, that was weird,” Rachel said with a shrug. “But at least it came with a side of pie.”

  The tart scent of wild cherries turned Leah’s stomach, and she pushed the plate away. “Go ahead and dig in. I don’t want any.”

  “Aw, come on, Tink. You haven’t touched a bite all day, and it’s not like you’ve got extra padding to—” She paused, her gaze shifting to someone behind Leah. “Hey there, hon.”

  Leah turned and spotted June approaching their table, her complexion a bit more peaked than it was a few days ago. Something in June’s gait seemed off, maybe more sluggish than usual, so Leah scooted over and patted the spot beside her on the booth.

  “Sit down before you pass out,” she told June, who nodded and lowered to the vinyl cushion. “I thought you were staying off your feet.”

  “I am, mostly.” June started eyeing the cherry pie. “But I can’t sit around the house all day. I mean, I’m pregnant, not dead. Besides, I had a craving for something, but I couldn’t figure out what.” She spoke directly to the pie crust now. “That looks pretty good.”

  Leah handed her a fork. “You and Rachel can share it. I can’t eat a thing.”

  “Oh, yeah.” June tore her gaze away from the pie long enough to offer a pitying look and squeeze Leah’s hand under the table. “Bobbi told me what happened, but we haven’t said a word to Luke or Trey. We figured you’d wanna keep it private as long as you can.”

  “Thanks.” She wondered how long before the news leaked. Probably a few days at the most.

  June grabbed a fork and divided the pie in half, then tore right in. They spent the next several minutes in contented silence until June brought the last bite to her lips. She paused and pressed one hand over her chest, her face contorting in discomfort.

  “You okay?” Rachel asked from the other side of the table.

  “Wicked heartburn,” June explained.

  “Oh, yeah.” Leah remembered that well. Even water had given her heartburn during the third trimester. “One of the many joys of pregnancy.”

  “My stomach hurts too.” June sat back and brought a hand to her belly. Leah took the liberty of touching her friend’s tummy to feel for the tightening of contractions, but the muscles beneath her fingers were relaxed and springy. Nothing out of the ordinary. “Probably just something I ate,” June said.

  Leah didn’t like this. June hadn’t seemed like herself when she’d joined them, and now a fine sweat had broken out on her cheeks. “You don’t have a headache, do you?”

  She opened her mouth to respond and everything happened in a flash.

  June’s body lurched and she started to gag. Rachel dashed for the nearest trash can, returning just in time for June to vomit into it. When June’s shoulders and legs began twitching uncontrollably, Leah knew what was wrong.

  “Where’s your car parked?” she asked Rachel.

  “Back at the store.” Rachel pulled back June’s hair and patted her back. “Why?”

  Leah jammed her hand inside her pocket and retrieved her keys. “We’ll have to take mine.” Bruiser wasn’t as fast as Rachel’s Subaru, but they didn’t have a minute to spare. “We need to get her to the ER right now.”

  “Should we call an ambulance?”

  Leah shook her head. “They won’t get here and back to the hospital in time.”

  June moaned and wiped her mouth with a handful of napkins. “In time for what?”

  “Hey,” Leah called to the busboy. “Can you help us get her outside?”

  The kid eagerly complied, and the three of them managed to get June settled in Bruiser’s front seat with a small wastebasket wedged between her legs. Leah pressed a twenty into the boy’s palm to cover their bill and dashed to the driver’s side door while Rachel sat in the back. After cranking the ignition, Leah checked over her shoulder for traffic and then peeled down Main Street, leaving clouds of rubber in her wake.

  “In time for wh—” June began before heaving into the trash can.

  Leah was ninety-nine percent sure June needed an emergency C-section, but she didn’t want to worry her, especially considering the baby wasn’t full-term. She told Rachel, “Call the ER and hand me the phone when they’re on the line,” then pushed the pedal to the floor and prayed to God that the engine wouldn’t explode and kill them all. They tore down the highway as fast as Bruiser could haul them, which turned out to be sixty-eight and a half miles per hour.

  “Here,” Rachel said, handing over the phone.

  With June coughin
g and retching so violently from the passenger seat, it was impossible to hear the staffer on the other end of the line, so Leah said loudly, “I’m on my way to the ER with a friend. She’s…” Dang it, how far along was June? She couldn’t remember. “She’s in her mid-third trimester, and I’m almost positive she’s got HELLP syndrome.” Just to be safe, she repeated, “That’s H-E-L-L-P. She was complaining of chest and abdominal pains, then she started vomiting and having seizures. She might have internal bleeding. The baby’s not full-term yet, so have your neonatal staff ready.”

  Did Sultry Memorial even have a neonatal department? For June’s sake, she hoped so, because this baby would have to make her entrance into the world in the next few minutes—ready or not.

  “What do you mean, neonatal staff?” June croaked.

  So much for trying not to scare her. Leah handed the phone into the back seat and glared at the road as if to propel them faster to their destination.

  “They can’t…take the baby,” she said between dry heaves. “It’s too soon.”

  When they pulled up to the Sultry Memorial emergency entrance, Leah honked the horn like a lunatic and jumped the curb. She burst out of the car to meet the staff, who’d already come running with a stretcher.

  Leah opened the passenger door and said, “Her name’s—”

  “June Gallagher,” finished one of the nurses. “I know. She’s a regular customer here. We see so much of June, we should give her a Fast Pass.”

  Before Leah could supply the team with any more information, they wheeled June inside and she disappeared behind twin sliding doors.

  Poor June. Growing up, she always had seemed a little unlucky. Leah hoped she’d gotten here in time. She decided to park the car and head inside to the chapel. Maybe God had stopped hearing her prayers, but it couldn’t hurt to try.

  ***

  Colt slouched against his granddaddy’s leather sofa and idly toyed with a fuzzy fishing lure he’d plucked from the wall. His low position put him eye-level with the desk in front of him, where stacks of bench warrants and rulings awaited the judge’s signature. As deputy and eventually sheriff, Colt had been to court so many times it felt like a second home—a really dysfunctional home where you had to pass through a metal detector to get inside. The last thing he wanted was to spend the next year of his life duking it out in court and racking up a mountain of debt.

  “Well, slap my ass and call me Sally,” Granddaddy said with a shake of his half-bald head. “I never would’a guessed it. Didn’t I warn ya Leah wasn’t the same girl you remembered?”

  Nice. Leave it to Granddaddy to bust out I told you so at a time like this.

  “Well, guess what,” Colt retorted. “The Lord didn’t call her home to Sultry Springs like you thought. She and her daddy were in cahoots the whole time—bet you didn’t see that coming.” Pastor Mac was such a hypocrite, always asking, What would Jesus do? You know what Jesus wouldn’t do? Steal people’s kids, that’s what. “But you were right about Leah. Does that make you feel better?”

  White bushy brows furrowed above rheumy eyes. “Course not, son.” He sat back and pulled his pipe from the middle desk drawer. “I hate seein’ you upset, and what she did to you was mighty low. But let’s focus on what we can control. It’s good that you’re meetin’ with the boy’s parents. Just don’t sign anything till I have a look at it.” He tossed a sack of tobacco onto the desk. “Speakin’ of which, what’re you gonna ask for?”

  Colt shrugged. He hadn’t given it much thought. “Ideally, I’d like joint custody, but I’ll settle for visitation. It’d be great if we could divide the school year and alternate summers so Noah splits his time between Minnesota and Texas.”

  Granddaddy huffed a dry laugh. “Well, that ain’t what you’re gonna get—not even if you’d raised the boy from birth.”

  “Why not?” He’d heard joint custody was standard practice now. In fact, half the deputies on the payroll needed flex schedules because they never knew which days of the week they’d have their kids.

  “First off, that boy doesn’t know you from Adam,” Granddaddy said, stuffing tobacco shreds inside his pipe. “And second, kids need more stability than that. It’s not good to bounce ’em from school to school every year. Don’t you want what’s best for him?”

  Colt’s whole body flashed hot. How many times would he have to hear that? He shouted, “No, damn it!” before realizing what he’d just admitted. His face heated, but not from anger this time.

  The worst part was that Granddaddy didn’t look all that surprised. He struck a match and lit his dried tobacco, then sucked a few leisurely puffs. “Well, that’s what the court wants, so best prepare yourself and lower your expectations.”

  “I didn’t mean it that way.” Colt wasn’t being selfish, was he? All he wanted was to form a relationship with his son—something that went deeper than a few phone calls now and then. There was nothing wrong with that. “Of course I care about what’s best for Noah.”

  The phone rang, interrupting their strategy session. Granddaddy answered the call and spent the next few minutes uttering Uh-huhs and Mmm-hmms, and Well, I’ll be. Then he slammed down the receiver and abandoned his pipe.

  “C’mon, boy.” Smiling, Granddaddy pushed to standing and grabbed his Stetson. “We’re goin’ to the hospital to meet my new step-grandbaby!”

  Step-grandbaby? But June wasn’t due until January. “Everything all right?”

  The old guy scooted around his desk with a spring in his step. “There was some ruckus, but mama and baby are both doin’ fine.”

  “Only one baby, huh?” Colt would’ve bet his left nut there were twins inside that Kong-sized belly. “It must be built like a linebacker.”

  “Five pounds ’n change,” Granddaddy said. “Not bad for a preemie. Now get the lead out so I can go see the little peanut.”

  As Colt hustled alongside his granddaddy to the cruiser, he couldn’t help feeling a twinge of envy for June and Luke. They weren’t family—not really—but Granddaddy would be there to gush over their newborn and take a dozen pictures, which would probably go on display beside Emma’s portrait on his desk. Just add that to the list of experiences Colt had been denied. Aside from the giddy old coot beside him, none of Colt’s family knew he had a child, and he didn’t have a single photo to share.

  During the drive to the hospital, Colt tuned out his granddaddy’s yammering and tried to narrow down his list of requests for the meeting in a few days. He didn’t want to come across as a pushover, but in order to avoid a drawn-out court battle, he had to keep his demands reasonable. It was a fine line, and he didn’t know where to draw it.

  The possibilities tumbled in his head, and by the time Colt pulled into the parking lot, he was no closer to reaching a decision than before he’d left. He stood from the cruiser and heaved a sigh. Might as well give his brain a rest, especially considering they’d arrived at the hospital. He’d never told anyone, but every time he returned to Sultry Memorial, his flesh practically crawled off his bones. There was no use trying to think straight while he was here.

  He ambled across the foyer and took the stairs while Granddaddy waited for the elevator. Colt was in a lousy disposition by default, but his mood darkened when he reached the fifth floor nursery and spotted a familiar blond ponytail at the other end of the corridor.

  Leah didn’t see him. She was too busy gazing into the nursery with her fingertips pressed against the glass. The longing on her face made his chest heavy and his arms twitch to wrap around her. There’s no pain in the world like carrying a child for nine months and watching another woman take him home, she’d told him. Especially knowing I can’t get pregnant again. Colt clenched his fists. He didn’t want to remember her words, and he sure as hell didn’t want to feel sorry for her.

  He was about to duck back into the stairwell when a man wear
ing a white lab coat joined Leah at the observation window and handed her a Styrofoam coffee cup. Colt leaned forward and squinted at the guy’s smooth cheeks and the stringy blond hair brushing his shirt collar. It was Dr. Benton, that Doogie Howser wannabe. He said something that made Leah smile, then cupped her lower back and steered her toward a door marked Staff Only.

  A surge of red hot jealousy scalded the inside of Colt’s throat. Benton, that baby-faced bastard, was touching Leah, and he made no move to drop his hand even after she pushed open the door. Colt wanted to drop-kick Benton into next week, but he missed his chance. The two of them vanished inside the room—for something that looked an awful lot like a coffee date—and the door whispered shut.

  “Hey,” someone said from nearby. “Thanks for coming.”

  It was Luke Gallagher, who’d already begun towing Colt by the shirtsleeve toward the nursery while Granddaddy followed. Colt gritted his teeth and tried not to imagine what Leah and the doctor were doing inside that private room—whether Benton was making her laugh or complimenting her beauty or asking her out for dinner. Her personal life was none of his business anymore, and if she wanted to date another doctor, then so be it. Benton was a better match for her anyway. What had she and Colt ever had in common?

  “There she is,” Luke said, pointing at the glass. “Third one from the left.”

  Colt peered at a squirming bundle of blankets encased in a plastic bassinet, but he couldn’t stop seeing Benton’s pale hand at the base of Leah’s spine.

  “How’s our Calamity June?” Granddaddy asked. “Feelin’ rough, I expect.”

  “She’s a little beat up, but she’ll be fine—thanks to Leah.”

  Colt snapped to attention and turned to face Luke. “McMahon?”

  “Yeah, she didn’t tell you?” Luke dragged one hand over his face and shook his head in reverence. “She’s the one who figured out something was wrong with June and drove her to the ER. Just in time too. Doc Benton said in another ten minutes her liver would’ve ruptured.” He clapped Colt on the arm and said, “Congrats, man. You’ve got a real keeper. I think Doc Benton’s trying to recruit her for intensive care.”