by Vicki Green
“Wha – what? No.” My breathing becomes labored and I feel ill. “He just texted me before I went to bed.”
“He hit a cow coming over a hill. It was raining really hard and he didn’t see it through the storm and darkness.” Her voice quivers and I sit up straight. “His truck rolled several times, landed in a ditch off the side of the road.” No! No! No! “They air lifted him to Pilates Medical Center because they’re better equipped with their trauma unit.” I jump out of bed, putting her on speaker and run to the bathroom, setting the phone down on the counter. I brush my teeth as she continues. “He’s in critical condition. Broke several ribs, concussion, and one of his ribs punctured his lung.” I hear words of not breathing on his own. His truck totaled. It was a miracle he’s still alive and that someone coming from the opposite direction saw it happen. I throw all my bathroom things in my small bag and get dressed in a hurry.
“You shouldn’t be driving home, Tina. You’re not in a stable mindset right now.”
I stop, tears threatening to spill. “I have to go to him,” I whisper.
“I know, sweetie. But you’re not going to do him any good if you get into an accident yourself. It’s still raining really hard here.” I nod, understanding what she is trying to tell me.
“Okay. I’ll call you as soon as I get to the hospital.”
I end our call with promises that I know will be difficult to keep. Grabbing my bag, I run down the stairs, my hand on the front door.
“Miss Tina!” I turn my head and see George, Leslie, and Barb running toward me.
“Nash. He’s been in an accident.” My hand shakes on the doorknob. “I have to go.” I start to open the door when George gently pushes it shut. He takes my arms and turns me to face him.
“Leslie? Call the airport and get her on the first flight. Barb, call Henry Wilke and talk to him about driving Miss Tina’s car to her home.” He winks as he smiles. “Where is the closet airport from where you live?”
“Pilates, Montana,” I whisper, my entire body shaking now.
“Got that, Leslie?” He doesn’t take his eyes from mine.
“I’m on it!” I hear her run into the next room.
An hour and a half later, I’m telling them goodbye, standing by my gate. I hug George. “Thank you for taking care of me. I’ll never forget you.” I kiss his cheek, feeling the wetness of his tears. I pull back and walk into Leslie’s open arms.
“Oh, dear child. Please keep in contact with us this time.” She moves back and smiles, tears brimming in her eyes. “You have our email addresses and phone numbers now.” I nod. Turning, I walk over to Barb. She grabs my arms, looking at me like she’s trying to memorize my face then pulls me into her arms.
“You’ve always been like a daughter to me,” she whispers holding me tightly.
“You and Leslie have always been like the mother I never had.” I hug her tight, not wanting to let go.
“Go, Miss Tina. Nash needs you now. Your flight is boarding.”
I nod at George and wipe away the tears on my face. Picking up my small bag, I walk to the gate, holding out my boarding pass. I’m eternally grateful they could get me on this flight, getting me to my love so much quicker. Perks being the daughter of wealthy parents. Guess my parents will find out soon they paid for my first class seat and the driver who will pick me up at the airport and take me to the hospital. I board, sitting down in the wide seat and fasten my seatbelt, praying they will take off quickly and pray even harder that Nash will be okay. I skip all the food and drinks they offer during the little over three hour flight. Leaning my head against the window, I watch when the bright clear sky darkens and rain splatters against the window.
My heart races as the plane touches down. Anxiety begins to take its toll as we reach the gate. I can feel my heart beating against my chest, the sound filling my ears as I walk into the large room, gathered with tons of people greeting their loved ones. Standing on my toes, I look for someone in search of me and finally see a man, holding a sign with my name on it, dressed in a dark suit. I walk over to him and smile.
“Miss Tina Brogdon?” I nod eagerly, wanting to hurry and get to the hospital. “Let me take your bag.” I raise my bag and he takes it then turns and I follow him. As we walk outside, he stops, opens an umbrella and holds it over me as we jog to the black limo SUV at the curb. I get in quickly and scoot over as he places my bag on the floor. Taking my phone from my pocket, I send a text to Sadie, letting her know I’m on my way to see Nash and get an instant reply.
Sadie: Good. We’ll be over there as soon as our babysitter gets here. Please tell him we love him.
Tears burn in my eyes, but I refuse to shed a tear until I’m with him. As we get closer to the hospital, I steal myself to get ready to see him. I thank the driver as he drops me off at the entrance of the hospital. Taking my bag, I walk inside and right over to the information desk. My heart stops when the woman tells me he’s in ICU on the fourth floor. I knew it sounded bad by the way Sadie talked and the sound of her voice, but I guess I didn’t realize he was in ICU. Taking the elevator only makes me more anxious. When the doors open, I square my shoulders, holding my head up high as I walk toward the nurse’s station. If Nash is awake, he doesn’t need to see me break down. I need to be strong – for him.
“Tina!” I turn my head and see Manuel stand, propping his hand on his cane. I start walking toward him so he doesn’t have to walk. “It’s good to see you.” I lean in and kiss his cheek then he sits down. Taking a step back to give him room, I look up and into the window in front of me, seeing Nash lying in a small single bed. Bruising is evident on the left side of his face and around his left eye. A large bandage covers almost the expansion of his forehead. I can’t see the injuries beneath the sheet but the cast on his right arm and the tube protruding from his nose giving him the oxygen needed to allow him to breathe is enough to cause a tear to fall from my eye.
I swallow hard, unsure if I can speak. “Has he woken up?” I’m not sure if I even want to hear the answer to my question. Partly because I’m afraid if he hasn’t, he never will. And partly for selfish reasons. I hate for him to have woken up and I wasn’t here.
“Not yet. Dr. Franklin said it’s best for him right now if he didn’t. He’s done all he can, for now, but Nash is young, strong, and a damn good fighter.” He pats my shoulder. I hadn’t realized he’d stood up nor that I’d been holding my breath. I fight back the tears but nervous I’ll break down if I go inside the room. “Go in, sweetheart. There’s nothin’ like the voice of the woman a man loves to make him fight harder.” I nod, sure he’s right but my feet won’t move. I’m frozen. He nudges my arm. “He doesn’t look any worse close up.” I blink and look at him. He’s smiling.
I walk inside the small room. The only sounds are of the beeps of the machines and the oxygen pump helping to keep him alive. As I get closer to his side I think internally about how Manuel lied. Nash looks much worse up close then behind the window. I stand here looking down at him and smile, reaching out and brush some of his thick hair away from his face. Now I know that all those people in movies who visit a loved one in the hospital that say they’ll be strong for them is a bunch of bullshit. There’s no way to be strong looking at someone you love, battered, bruised, and fighting for their life. It’s just a bunch of lines written to make them look cavalier and stronger than people are in real life.
I pick up his hand, seeing the needle pushed into his skin, tape covering it to hold it in place, and the tube that protrudes and hangs from the pole behind him. “Nash,” my voice scratches, sounding strange. “It’s Tina.” Another stupid line from a movie where the loved one says their name, just in case their loved one doesn’t know it. Okay, I’ll stop being mean but I’m used to joking when I’m upset or nervous. “God, you scared me,” I whisper. I swallow hard, my throat dry. “Please don’t leave me
.” I choke on my emotions. “I never thought I’d find the man of my dreams and a cowboy no less.” I laugh but it doesn’t feel good. Looking behind my shoulder, I see a chair close by. Reaching around, I pull it as close to his bed as I can, still holding his hand. I rub my thumb across his soft skin as I sit. “You’re here because of me.” Leaning down, I kiss his arm then rest my head on the mattress, still stroking his hand. “If I’d been stronger, waited and talked to you – you wouldn’t have come to get me. You wouldn’t have driven home and....” Laying my forehead against his arm, I start crying. Well, it’s more like snotty blubbering. I feel a hand on my head, stroking my hair. That’s really sweet of Manuel.
“Not – your fault. You are – the strong – est woman – I know.”
I look up and see Nash looking into my eyes. “Nash?” I stand so fast, I knock the chair over behind me and start to turn but stop and look back at him. I lean down and kiss his dry lips and smile. Releasing his hand, I run out of the room and look at Manuel. “Tell the nurse, the doctor – hell, tell everyone! Nash is awake!” I run back into the room and stop abruptly at his bed, my heart almost choking me with its fast beating. His eyes are closed. No! I close my eyes and say a prayer.
Lord, I know I haven’t been the best. Probably lost track of how many times I’ve sinned. Sorry! But see this man? He’s my heart. And well, you probably already know, but he’s a good man. Without him, I’m nothing. Can you please spare him? You can have me instead. I’ll do whatever you want. I’ll go to church! Just please, please don’t take him from me.
“I see your lips movin’....” I open my eyes. “But I can’t – hear ya. Did I lose my – hearin’ in the crash?” His voice doesn’t sound like his. Gruff, hoarse, and it looks like it’s taking him a lot of effort to talk.
I throw my arms around him, laying my head on his chest and feel him wince. “No! You didn’t.” I look up and kiss his jaw, tenderly, careful of the bruises as his hand cups the back of my head. For someone who should be really weak, escaping a near fatal crash, he’s sure strong. He moves my head over until my mouth is on his. He moans and at first I think I’m hurting him by practically lying on top of him until his tongue slides into my mouth. Well, he’s certainly not bad enough for some foreplay. I hear coughing and turn my head, my lips still pressed against his.
“Good to see you awake, Nash.” Dr. Franklin’s standing at the foot of the bed, smiling.
“Good to be awake, Doc.” Nash’s voice is so hoarse, weak.
Dr. Franklin picks up the electronic chart at the foot of the bed, studying it. I look at Nash and smile, so thankful he’s awake, even though his left eye is halfway closed, swollen, his skin black and blue around it. “You gave us quite a scare,” Dr. Franklin tells Nash but looks at me too. “There’s gonna be a bit of recovery but you just keep getting rest and let the healing begin. You’ll be stronger in no time. I think we’ll be keeping you for a few days.” He raises a brow but smiles. “You get some rest and as your breathing improves, we’ll put you in a better room and out of ICU.” He winks and leans down, patting his leg.
“Thanks, Doc.” Nash closes his eyes, clearly exhausted from just the short exertion.
“Um, Dr. Franklin? May I talk to you for a minute?” I start to get up when Nash grabs my hand. I look down at him, his eyes barely open, and smile. “I promise I’ll be right back. I’ll just be right outside the door.”
“Okay.” He swallows, taking shallow breaths. “But I’ve been without you for – too long.”
I lean down and kiss him, gently. “You’ll never be without me again. I’ll be right back.” I kiss him again. His hand falls to his lap as I stand and walk outside the room. “Okay. Tell me the truth,” I say to the doctor, crossing my arms over my chest.
“The truth? I’m not sure what you mean.”
“Is he going to be okay? Truly?”
He smiles. “Yes. Truly. Although his injuries are severe, preferably his collapsed lung and fractures, he’ll be fine. He needs lots of rest and no exertion so he can properly heal. Once his lung continues to get strong and he can breathe on his own, we’ll move him out of ICU and to a bigger room. Visitors now must be limited to two people at a time and for small amounts of time. Rest is the best medicine.” He pulls his phone from his jacket pocket and looks at the screen then at me. “Of course he’ll wear the cast on his arm for about six weeks and his bruises and swelling should heal fairly quickly.” He puts his hand on my shoulder and I drop my arms to my side. “He’s extremely lucky to be alive.” I nod slowly.
“Thank you,” I whisper.
“Tina!” As the doctor walks off I turn my head and see Sadie jogging down the short hallway. “I got here as fast as I could,” she says, breathing heavy while wrapping her arms around me. “God! Is he okay?” I nod against her shoulder. She moves back but grabs my hands, holding them tightly. The tears I’d held back while in his presence run steadily down my face. She pulls me back into a hug and then keeping her arms around me, we begin walking down the hall.
I look at her, my eyes wide. “I don’t want to go far.”
“I’ll go in and sit with him.” I hear Manuel and turn my head his way. “I’ll let him know you’re close.” I nod and mouth “thank you” to him. He smiles and I watch as he limps into the room using his cane.
Sadie and I continue to walk slowly down the hall, her arm squeezing my shoulder. “Let it out, Tina. It’s just you and me now.” I start sobbing, burying my face into her shoulder, and we stop.
“Sadie. Oh, Sadie!” I’m a blubbering mess. “I was so scared that I’d lost him. I thought he’d....” I can’t breathe. “Died.” I move back and grab her arms. “And it’s all my fault.” My chin quivers as she reaches out, pushing some of my long hair over my shoulder. “I caused it, Sadie. And I’m not saying it because – because....” I look down unable to figure out what I’m saying. I look back up at her and sniff. “I’m not saying it because someone needs to be blamed.” I calm down, breathing erratically. “I’m not saying it so people will shift their concern to me.” She smiles and gives me her all-knowing look. “I’m saying it because if I hadn’t been so stupid, if I would have trusted Nash and his love for me, none of this would have happened.” I release her arms and walk to the corner where there’s a small alcove, raising my hands. “Why didn’t I trust us?” I turn and look at her leaning against the wall, her arms crossed over her chest. “And why in the ever lovin’ hell did I think running back to my parents’ house was a good idea?” She lets out a laugh. I pace again but stop abruptly and face her. “How stupid can I be to trust a Barbie with fake lashes, fake fingernails, and those certainly were not her tits.” Sadie bends down, with her hands on her knees, laughing so hard. I let out a laugh, then another.
Finally, she stands and walks over to me and smiles. “Dramatic much?” We both burst out laughing as we put our arms around each other and walk back to Nash’s room.
The rest of the day and into the evening, Nash woke up off and on but only long enough to see who was in the room, eat some ice chips, and fall back to sleep. Everyone came to see him from his men to all of our friends. Manuel never left his side.
In the next few days, Sadie had brought me some clean clothes. Nash had been moved to a different floor and a much bigger room. He’s still pretty weak but is able to breathe on his own and is sitting up more in bed. It’s late evening, and all our friends had just left. They’d brought up some home cooking that Prie, Sadie, and Shiloh had made, and the room had been filled with laughter and memories. I’ve never made it back to my apartment, not wanting to leave Nash for even a second. I just finished combing out my long damp hair after taking a shower, brushed my teeth and put on my nightgown. I had made it known that I would be sleeping here since the very first step into his room in ICU.
“Damn. You take too long, woman.” I smile as I close the bathroom do
or and walk over to his bed, climbing onto the mattress, wrapping my arm around his waist and feeling his wrap around my shoulder. I look up at the TV on the wall. Looks like he’s been flipping through the channels. Guilt has been eating me alive even though he tells me constantly nothing about this was my fault. But I can’t help the way I feel. He starts playing with my hair and I close my eyes loving the feeling that only he can give me. “The whole time durin’ the accident, watchin’ the world flip over and over, thinkin’ I might die....” I open my eyes, hating the visions in my mind. He lets out a sigh. “All I could think about was how thankful I was that you weren’t with me.” I stiffen but he continues playing with my hair. “I was grateful because I knew you were safe.” He kisses the top of my head. “Thing is – I knew you’d been hurt, knew you needed some time to sort it out. For you to go back to the one place you didn’t feel loved made my heart hurt even worse.” I look up and open my mouth. “Let me finish.” He smiles. I close my mouth and smile back. “You didn’t cause my accident, darlin’. The cow did.” A burst of a laugh leaves my mouth. “Damn cow in the middle of a road.” He laughs and winces.
I sit up, leaning my arm against the raised mattress behind him. “But if I hadn’t gone home. If you hadn’t come after me....”
He tilts his head, lowering his brows. “Darlin’. We’re gonna go through a lot of shit in our lives. There’s no such thing as gettin’ by with only good luck and all good times. There’ll be struggles. Hell, our kids are gonna probably make us gray before our time.” I raise a brow in question. “Yeah, we’ll have kids. Lots of ‘em. They’ll get hurt playin’ outside or rough housin’ inside. And as they grow they’ll argue and fight. Then they’ll get older and their hearts will get hurt from a boy or young gal.” He pulls me into his side. “But just like what happened to us, we’ll be there for them. Give them our love and comfort just as we did to each other.” I look into his beautiful eyes as mine well up with tears. “So you see, my love....” He pushes back some of my long hair over my shoulder then cups my face. “Things are gonna happen. Doesn’t matter why. As long as we have each other, we’ll survive and be stronger for it.”
