Brenda Minton - Her Guardian Rancher

She nodded, closing her eyes against the fear, the hope, the onslaught of emotions that swept over her. A chair scraped. A hand settled on her shoulder. Without looking she knew that it was Daron. That he was there, standing behind her, the way he’d been doing since he got back from Afghanistan. It was guilt that kept him in her life. But today she didn’t mind. Today his presence felt a lot like friendship and she wasn’t going to turn that down.

Somehow she would get through this. Jamie would be okay. They would have the surgery, and she would be healthy. But it was good to have people to depend on.

“When will the surgery take place?” Daron asked, his voice deep, strong.

“I think sometime after Christmas. I want to know that she’s strong enough before we send her down to Austin.”

“Austin?” Emma asked, the reality of what he’d said hitting home.

Dr. Jacobs leaned a bit, making eye contact. “I’d love to tell you we could do the surgery here, but we can’t. We’ll contact specialists and she’ll have the best of care.”

“But you do believe we can wait until after Christmas?” Daron asked, his use of the pronoun we not lost on her.

“Yes, I think so. Unless there’s a change, she isn’t in any immediate danger. For now our main concern is this infection.” Dr. Jacobs cleared his throat. “I know this is a lot to take in. What we want right now is for Jamie to rest, and for Mom to not worry.”

“I think we can make sure that happens,” Granddad said, patting Emma’s hand.

“And we’ll do our best, as well,” Dr. Jacobs responded.

“Can I go back to her now?” Emma needed to see her daughter. She needed to hug her and to reassure herself that Jamie was okay.

“Yes. I ordered the blood test. We’ll give her a little time to relax and then we’ll take her down for the echocardiogram.” Dr. Jacobs stood, the file in his capable hands. He handed her several printed copies. “If you have any questions, don’t hesitate to ask.”

“Thank you, Doctor.” Emma looked down at the files in her hands, the words swimming as she blinked away tears. Ugh, she didn’t want to cry. No more tears.

The doctor left, the door closing behind him.

Her grandfather steepled his hands on the table and cleared his throat. “I reckon you ought to tell Andy’s parents about their granddaughter.”

“I’m not going to call them. They don’t want anything to do with her.”

“They might want to know about this,” her granddad pushed in his quiet way. “Em, she is their granddaughter.”

“No, she isn’t. She’s your granddaughter. There’s more to grandparenting than a title and DNA. I’m not going to call them.”

“Forgive—” her grandfather started.

“I will forgive,” she conceded in a softer tone. “But I’m not through being angry.”

She pushed back, the chair hitting Daron. She’d forgotten he was behind her. He grunted and rubbed his knee.

“I’m sorry,” she said, her hand going to his arm. “I have to go. Jamie will wonder where I’ve gone to.”

Boone Wilder was waiting outside Jamie’s door. He tipped his hat, his smile somber. His presence made her falter, just a step. She’d gotten used to Daron’s presence, his midnight drives past her house. Boone was more low-key with his interference.

“Boone,” she said as she slipped past him. “You don’t have to be here.”

“Now, why wouldn’t I be here, Emma?”

Arguing with him would have been pointless. It was their code. Whether as cowboys or soldiers, they stuck together. They took care of their own. She had become theirs when Andy died.

He followed her into the hospital room, where a nurse was setting up to draw blood. Samantha still sat next to the bed, Jamie’s hand in hers. Her grandfather came in, not minding that the small room was crowded. He moved in close to his great-granddaughter and patted her hand. Jamie smiled up at him.

“Hey, Grand-girl, you sure do look pretty.” He touched her nose.

Jamie managed a weak attempt at a smile and touched his bandaged hand. The gesture undid something inside Emma. She hadn’t thought to ask him what happened. How exactly did he get hurt? How bad was the injury?

“You were working on the tractor, weren’t you, Granddad?” she asked, watching as he moved his hand from Jamie’s reach.

He winked at Jamie and then glanced up at her, his look a little more serious. “Just a little cut from that tractor.”

“I told you...” She shook her head. Daron moved in behind her, his hands resting lightly on her shoulders. She breathed deep and relaxed. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there.”

And he was a grown man. He didn’t want her telling him what he could or couldn’t do.

“You don’t always have to be there, kiddo. And I can get cut with or without your help. Boone and Daron came out and got me all fixed up. So right now let’s worry about my ladybug.”

Just like that, the room cleared. Boone and Daron slipped into the hall. Samantha smiled down at Jamie, gave her a quick kiss on the cheek and told her she would check on that brownie. Then it was just the nurse drawing the blood, Jamie, Emma and her grandfather.

“We’re going to put her on oxygen.” The nurse said it quietly. “She’s doing fine, but a little won’t hurt. Also, we’ve got a line in and we’re starting her on antibiotics and fluids.”

“Thank you.” Emma sank into the chair next to her daughter. “Do you feel better?”

Jamie nodded, her eyes scrunched, her cheeks pink from the fever. “I like brownies.”

“Yes, you do.” Emma swiped at a tear that rolled down her cheek. “I love you.”

“I love you, Mommy.”

Never had any words meant so much. Except maybe when her grandfather told her everything would be okay. She always believed him, trusted him.

Movement outside the door caught her attention. And then she heard the scrape of a chair on the tile floors. She glanced that way as Daron placed a chair next to the door and took a seat, a cup of coffee in his hand and his cowboy hat pulled low. He crossed his right ankle over his left knee and leaned back. It looked like he planned on being there for a while.

She should tell him to go home. But she couldn’t. Not today, when it felt better knowing he was there. He’d managed to enter her circle of trusted people. She hoped he didn’t let her down.

* * *

Daron woke with a start, rubbing his neck that had grown stiff from sleeping in the waiting room chair. He’d pulled it into the hall, next to Jamie Shaw’s room. It was late. The halls were quiet, the lights dimmed for the night. The quiet whisper of nurses drifted down the hallways, but he couldn’t make out their words. He glanced at his watch. It was a few minutes after midnight.

Standing, he stretched, rolling his shoulders and neck, and managed to feel almost human again. His back ached, but he could live with it. He’d been living with it for a few years. He took a careful, quiet step and peeked into Jamie’s room.

Emma was asleep, like him, in a chair not made for comfort. Her head rested on the hospital bed. Her hand clasped her daughter’s. Jamie was awake. She glanced his way, her eyes large in her pale face. He silently eased into the room and lifted the cup of water next to her bed. She shook her head and her smile wobbled. He hadn’t been around too many kids in his life, but this one had his heart. She had from the moment he first saw her through the window of the nursery at this very hospital. She’d been pink, fighting mad and none too pretty.

He guessed she knew she had him wrapped around her finger. And that was okay by him.

Not wanting to wake Emma, he brushed a hand through Jamie’s hair, then raised a finger to his lips. Her stuffed animal had fallen to the floor. He picked it up and tucked it in next to her. When she seemed content, he turned his attention to Emma. She had to be cold, curled up the way she was in the vinyl hospital chair. Looking around the room, he spotted a blanket folded on a shelf and returned to cover her with it. She didn’t stir.