Tacker

by Sawyer Bennett

  Finally, I hear the beautiful wail of the siren. It gets louder and louder. Soon, the ambulance is bumping down my gravel road. Thankfully, Raul fell in a spot where they can easily see us as they approach. They pull in close, two young men jumping out with gear bags.

  I don’t stop compressing his chest until they tell me to move aside. When I do, I watch helplessly as they work on him.

  “I have a pulse,” I hear one say. The flood of relief at hearing those words is so great my legs give way. I sag to the ground, right at Starlight’s hooves.

  I watch for a few moments as they work on Raul. They’re efficient, managing to hook him up to monitors, get an IV rolling, and put him on a gurney in less than two minutes.

  “Ma’am, we’re going to take him to Lake General,” one says as they start moving him toward the back of the ambulance. I blink, trying to focus. “Would you like to ride with us or meet us there?”

  “Shit,” I mutter as I scramble to my feet. “I want to ride with you. Let me just put Starlight up.”

  I’ll have to call and cancel the next two appointments, and I’m going to need to get someone to come feed the horses later.

  I jog to the barn, Starlight trotting easily behind me. In moments, I have her released into her stall and the door shut before I’m sprinting back to the ambulance.

  The side door is open, and I climb in. One of the paramedics directs me to a bench beside Raul where I can sit. I sort of thought they’d have me ride up front, but I’m grateful to be back here with him. I grab his hand, relishing in the fact it’s still warm.

  It’s only after the ambulance is on its way that I pull my phone out. I send a quick text to the two appointments I have coming to cancel.

  Then I call Tacker. He’s probably on the road on the way to the arena right now.

  He answers on the second ring. “What’s up, you gorgeous, smokin’ hot woman, you.”

  “Tacker,” I say, my voice cracking.

  He’s on instant high alert. “What’s wrong?”

  “It’s Raul,” I say, sucking in breath through my nose in an effort not to break down. Slowly, I let it out. “He collapsed. We’re in an ambulance headed to Lake General Hospital.”

  “Jesus,” he groans, and I can feel the fear and pain in his voice. He’s come to care so much for Raul. “I’ll head that way now and meet you there.”

  “Okay,” I say, my voice so small I’m surprised he hears it.

  But he does, and his is strong in response. “He’s a tough old man. He’ll be fine. I promise.”

  I don’t know how he could possibly know that. For now, though, I choose to believe him. “You’re right,” I finally say into the phone. “He’ll be fine.”

  When Tacker hangs up, I start to pray we’re both right.

  CHAPTER 31

  Tacker

  I told her Raul would be fine, and I’m kicking myself for saying it. It’s a promise to her that I’m not sure I can uphold because it’s completely out of my control.

  All that I keep telling myself over and over again as I correct my course to the hospital is that Raul is indeed tough and in general good health. Whatever made him collapse is nothing but a speed bump which he can overcome.

  I hope.

  I also start to pray as I drive, something I haven’t bothered doing in an awfully long time because I had convinced myself that God didn’t care.

  Funny how quickly I can lapse back into calling on Him for help. But I’m not asking for me—I’m asking for Nora. She doesn’t deserve any more sadness. While I logically know Raul will die one day, it can’t be today.

  Things are just going too good for Nora these days—and for me as well—that I selfishly don’t want to have to deal with grief again.

  My GPS effortlessly manages to put me at the hospital within twenty-five minutes of Nora’s call. I head into the emergency room, the sliding glass doors whooshing behind me. I’m slowed down by the hospital’s diligence to security. Once I make it through a metal detector, I scan the lobby. Nearly every chair is filled with the sick and injured that are waiting to be seen.

  I can’t find Nora, so I go to the admissions desk. A helpful-looking girl smiles at me. Her eyes flare with recognition. Thankfully, she doesn’t make a big deal about who I am. I’m sure she can tell by the expression on my face that I’ve got other things on my mind.

  “Can I help you?” she asks.

  “My friend was brought in by ambulance… Raul Vargas,” I say. “I’m also looking for my other friend who rode along with him… Nora Wayne.”

  “Just a minute,” she replies as she starts tapping away on her computer. However, before she can even look back up, a set of doors to my right opens and Nora comes through.

  Her arms are crossed over her stomach, her eyes somewhat blank. My heart sinks—assuming the worst—but then she sees me.

  Relief causes that iron mask to crumble. She stumbles right into me, burying her face into my chest.

  I hold her for a moment, my heart hammering with fear as to what she might say about Raul.

  Finally, she pulls her head back so she can see me. “They’re working on him now. They told me to wait out here until they get him stabilized.”

  “What happened?”

  “I don’t know,” she practically moans, sounding helpless. “One minute, he was fine. The next, he was on the ground. I couldn’t find a pulse, so I started CPR. It was awful.”

  At this point, she starts sobbing, so I lead her over into a corner of the lobby where there aren’t any chairs, only a huge potted plant, but at least it affords us a little privacy. Simply holding Nora, I let her cry. Every tear soaking into my shirt causes my chest to ache more and more.

  When she calms down, she sounds so lost and defeated. “The paramedics found a pulse when they got there. Who knows… maybe it was there all along and I just didn’t feel it at first in my panic, but he’s alive. They said it looks like something to do with his heart. Honestly, I probably only heard half of what they were telling me.”

  “He’s in good hands now,” I say as I rub her back.

  Nora pulls away with wild eyes tinged with red. “I can’t do this. I’m not ready to lose him. I seriously am at my limit, Tacker. I can’t lose anyone else.”

  I’m short on words of reassurance. I have no clue what his condition is or how precarious. All I do know is that her pain is my pain. Her fear is palpable, and the threat of impending grief makes my legs weak.

  Seeing Nora like this—so unsure of herself and almost paralyzed with fear—brings me right back to that plane crash.

  Sitting there trapped by wreckage while feeling utterly helpless. I watched MJ in pain, crippled with fear, and there wasn’t a damn thing I could do.

  Seeing Nora like this—hearing the agony in her voice and knowing how much she’s already hurting—it slices through me as sharply as it did when it was MJ looking to me for all the answers on how to make it better.

  It should be apples and oranges, but it’s not. It’s two women I love who are hurting, and I don’t know what else to do but take that upon my shoulders.

  Admittedly, there’s a moment when I think to myself—yeah, not sure I can handle this, either. There’s something to be said about closing myself off from the world. Sure, I’d be isolated and lonely, but my capacity for pain would be largely diminished.

  As I study Nora right now, her hurt causing me hurt, I have to wonder why I want this.

  Maybe I don’t.

  Maybe I’m just too sensitive.

  Maybe I’m broken.

  Or maybe I just love way too deeply, which makes it my risk to bear. Here this woman stands in front of me, healthy and whole, yet in pain because someone she loves is extremely sick. I can feel every bit of it deep in my bones.

  And it’s not even Nora who is at risk of dying. It’s just her sadness I’m feeling, and it hurts as keenly as if I’d lost her.

  In all the times over the last several weeks when I’ve comp
ared MJ to Nora and vice versa, it didn’t hit me until right this very moment that there is a big difference between the women.

  And it’s that Nora actually has the capacity to hurt me way more than MJ’s death ever did. Yeah, it makes me feel like shit to even admit it, but it’s true. The bond I’ve forged with Nora is deeper and more ingrained into my being. Losing her would fuck me up—big time.

  Walk away.

  It would be safer.

  Easier.

  “I’m sorry,” Nora says with a sniff as she wipes at her eyes. Pulling out of my embrace, she puts on a brave face. “Didn’t mean to fall apart on you there.”

  “Don’t be sorry,” I say, but it’s an automatic response.

  Nora shakes her head. “You don’t need this on you. You’ve been dealing with enough. You don’t need me adding to your problems.”

  “You’re not.” And then it hits me like a ton of bricks—makes me dizzy with the realization… Nora isn’t and never could be a problem to me. Nor a burden. Sure, the depth of what I feel for her is scary as shit, but that’s actually a blessing when it boils down to it. Framing her face in my hands, I dip down closer to her. “You’re the solution.”

  She blinks. “Pardon?”

  “You were the solution to my problems,” I say. Suddenly, it just makes so much sense now that she’s the one standing before me needing support. “First as my counselor, then later as my partner and lover. You gave me the strength I needed to push past my own fears.”

  Nora shakes her head, a wry smile on her face. “That was all you, Tacker. I was just a sounding board.”

  “It was you,” I say with a shake of my head. “You’re my truth, Nora. And I’m fucking dazzled by it. You risked everything for me. Risked your career to give us a shot. You went into this knowing I have the real capacity to hurt you because of my issues, yet you weren’t deterred. You’re the strongest and bravest person I know. You make me want to be a better man. It’s because of you that I’m a better person today.”

  Nora’s lower lip trembles, the magnitude of what I’m saying starting to sink in.

  “You are everything to me, Nora,” I say, taking her hands in mine. “Everything I need in this life. I can’t wrap my head around it just yet—the why’s of the plane crash and for what possible reason MJ died—but I think part of that answer lies in the fact you and I are supposed to be together. I fucking hate saying that—and I pray to God MJ forgives me those thoughts. I’ll have to check in with Dr. Dumfries for sure on that bit of mind fuck, but yes… you are meant for me. You’re mine, and I’m yours. I’m positive of it. And even though it scares the fuck out of me over the prospect of losing you, and it causes me actual pain to see you in pain, I would not have it any other way. I wouldn’t want one single thing to be different.”

  We stare at each other for a moment, the rest of the emergency room fading away.

  “What I’m trying to say,” I say softly, “is that I’m in love with you. Crazy, apeshit, head-over-heels in love with you. It’s scary and comforting all at once, and I’m never giving it up. And I know this is probably the most awful, inopportune time to be having this discussion, because we need to worry about Raul and—”

  Nora launches herself at me. Arms around my neck, legs around my waist, and her mouth fastened onto mine. I actually stumble from the weight of emotion I can feel between us, but it’s in her kiss that I can tell exactly how what I said makes her feel.

  The kiss is the sweetest and most explosive we’ve ever shared. Within it are a thousand words we don’t really have time to speak right now.

  That’s okay… we have a lifetime.

  Nora’s mouth leaves mine. Her eyes are closed as if she’s trying to relish the last bit of what we just shared.

  When they flutter open and lock onto me, her lips curve ever so slightly. “I love you, too.”

  “Miss Wayne,” comes from behind us. We turn and see a young female doctor searching for someone to claim the name.

  I let Nora slide to the ground, then take her hand in mine.

  “Right here,” Nora says, and the doctor waves us over to her.

  “I’m Dr. Mohan,” she says as she shakes Nora’s hand. I’m then introduced as her boyfriend.

  “If you’ll both follow me, I’ll take you back to Mr. Vargas,” the doctor says, guiding us through the double doors. She talks over her shoulder as we traverse the hallways. “Based on the EKG, it appears Mr. Vargas had a heart attack, so we’re scheduling him for an angiogram to check his arteries. But for right now, we do have him stabilized.”

  Nora’s hand reflexively squeezes mine, and I respond in kind. Even though the woman just told me she loved me, which is about the best thing a man such as myself could ever want, I have to admit… it’s much better hearing that Raul is holding his own right now.

  “So he’s conscious?” Nora asks.

  “He is,” Dr. Mohan replies. “And a little cantankerous.”

  My own heart is admittedly beating incredibly fast because I’m worried about Raul. A heart attack is some serious shit, and I think there are some rough days ahead. But I have to believe if he’s acting cantankerous in the emergency room after collapsing and needing CPR, then he must have a lot of kick still left in him.

  CHAPTER 32

  Nora

  “Glaring at that food won’t make it disappear,” I tell Raul as he glares at the tray in front of him. “Want me to cut it up and feed it to you?”

  “What I want is some huevos rancheros,” he mutters, taking his spoon and poking it at his oatmeal.

  “Not gonna happen,” I reply, settling into the vinyl-covered recliner in the corner of his hospital room. Hopefully, he’ll go home tomorrow. I sure will be thankful to get out of this chair, which I slept in the last two nights. It’s been murder on my back.

  “In fact,” I continue as I hold my phone up for him to see. “I’m researching all kinds of new heart-healthy meals to make for you when we get you home.”

  “Not changing my eating habits,” he grouses.

  “You will,” I say firmly. “Or you won’t have a job at Shërim Ranch anymore.”

  Raul glares, but I ignore him. Yes, he’s extremely cantankerous when he’s not feeling well.

  Thankfully, he’s going to be okay. Well, as okay as someone who had a mild heart attack can be. It turns out he had a partially blocked artery. They were able to insert a stent to open it up, and he’s expected to recover.

  Raul seems to think he’ll be returning right to work as soon as he gets home, but that’s a fight I’ll have with him later. As it stands, Tacker argued with him yesterday until he was blue in the face about it, but to no avail. Raul was being too stubborn to see reason.

  Good thing I’m the boss. While I love the man like my own father, and he loves me in return just as deeply, when it boils down to it, I’ll pull rank if I have to. I’m not about to lose him just yet. He needs to give himself time to recover so this doesn’t happen again.

  And he’s going to start eating better.

  End of story.

  But losing Raul at the ranch, even if temporarily, is a problem. I’ve had to reschedule riding lessons and hire temporary help for the horses, but I can’t keep that up forever. My business barely ekes into the black each month, and there’s no way I’m cutting Raul from the payroll.

  “If you need to replace me,” Raul starts, and I jerk my focus from the grilled chicken and artichokes recipe I’d been perusing to him. “I’d understand. You know that, right?”

  Was he just freaking reading my mind?

  I school my expression, but my exasperation bleeds through. “Puh-leeze… you just said you’re coming right back to work.”

  “Nora,” he chides, his deep brown eyes solemn. “I’m an old man. You have a young business. I would understand if you had to do what you had—”

  “Just be quiet,” I snap. “Or I’m going to call MaryBeth Henson to come and watch over you this afternoon while I go fe
ed the horses.”

  A slight tinge of fear seeps into Raul’s expression. She showed up yesterday with a bag of knitting, then promptly sat in one of the other guest chairs and glared at Raul the entire time, almost daring him to get sicker. It was hilarious, and Raul had been on his best behavior. I still have no clue why she showed up. She’s shown nothing but disdain for him in the past.

  Tacker and I laughed about it later while we ate dinner in the hospital cafeteria. He thinks MaryBeth is actually sweet on Raul, but doesn’t know how to act and resorts to her normal crusty personality.

  I don’t know how I would have made it these last few days without Tacker’s support. From the moment he showed up in the emergency room, I could feel about a hundred pounds of weight coming off me. I felt horribly guilty for pulling on him for support, because I was fearful it would be too much for him to bear. He’s had so much on his shoulders for so long, and I didn’t want to add more.

  Turns out… his shoulders are mighty fucking strong.

  And he loves me.

  “What are you smiling about now?” Raul asks. I blush from my toes to the roots of my hair, knowing he must have seen the physical effect on me as I thought about Tacker’s beautiful speech.

  I still can’t believe it.

  The depth of my feelings for him, and well… more unbelievable, how deeply he feels for me.

  Such a brave, fearless man to put himself out there again. Open himself up to hurt and disappointment by taking a chance on me.

  Not sure I can really describe how that makes me feel, but it’s akin to perhaps being able to conquer the world. His strength gives me strength, and I hope he feels that back from me.

  There’s a knock on the door. All I see are a variety of spring blooms before I realize Tacker is standing behind them.

  I pop out of my chair, exclaiming with surprise. “What are you doing here?”

  He’s not supposed to be here at all. He’s supposed to be getting ready for the first home game of the playoffs tonight. Sadly, I won’t be there as it’s just more important for me to stay here with Raul tonight.