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She tried to wet her lips. “I’ve hardly seen you speak to him. I thought you were angry because he was Jesse’s son,” she whispered, her voice almost inaudible.
He lifted the canteen to her lips and made her drink. “Angry?” Had she hit her head after all? She wasn’t making sense.
“Because he’s not yours and mine.”
It was his turn to frown. “Don’t be ridiculous. I love Allen. He’s my flesh and blood. I’ll always love him.”
It was a nightmare ride that took far longer than it should. The sun dropped lower in the sky as they made their halting way back toward the house.
When they finally reached the edge of the corral, Trent barked out orders, and ranch hands came running. Beverly took charge of Allen, and the nurse was at Trent’s side as he carried Bryn into the house. He put her in his bedroom. It was larger and more comfortable than hers, with a massive king-size bed. Bryn moaned as he laid her carefully on the embroidered, navy silk duvet.
There was really no choice what to do. The ankle was clearly broken. The nurse confirmed Trent's amateur diagnosis. Mac summoned a helicopter and Trent and the nurse boarded with Bryn for the brief trip to Jackson Hole.
Fourteen
“How is she, son?” Mac, Beverly and Allen had lingered at the ranch for a couple of hours, not wanting Allen to get restless at the hospital during what could be a lengthy surgery.
“She should be coming out of recovery any minute now.” Trent was hollow inside, feeling the aftermath of adrenaline. The sterile waiting room had been a cage he’d prowled for several hours. “Why don’t you go on in so she can see Allen first thing. It’s room 317. I’m going to grab some coffee and a sandwich.”
He didn’t linger at the snack machine. It was almost nine and he knew Mac and Beverly wouldn’t want to keep Allen out too late.
When he approached the room a quarter hour later, he could hear Allen’s excited chatter and Bryn’s softer voice. He drew in a sharp breath, swamped with a wave of relief to hear concrete proof that she was okay.
He hovered in the hall, wanting to give the others plenty of time to reassure themselves that Bryn had come through the surgery with no ill effects. Finally, the door opened, and Bryn’s visitors exited. The nurse would ride back to the ranch with them.
Mac squeezed his shoulder. “Take care of our girl.”
Now Bryn was alone. Trent took a deep breath, knocked briefly on the partially open door and stepped into the room.
Bryn shifted in the bed and winced. Even with really wonderful drugs, her ankle throbbed mercilessly.
When Trent appeared in the doorway, her heart jumped. She hoped he couldn’t tell on the monitor. She was in pain. It had been a terrible, stressful day. And she felt in no condition to hold her own with him.
He looked like hell. “You should have gone home with the others,” she said quietly. “You’re exhausted.”
He pulled up a chair beside her bed. “I’m not leaving you.” His angular face was creased with fatigue, his eyes shadowed. She wanted to smooth a hand over his hair, but she felt the invisible wall between them.
“There’s no need for you to stay. I’m fine…really.” She touched the neck of her hospital gown and sighed inwardly. Her hair was a mess. She would kill for a shower. And Trent had to see her like this. It wasn’t fair. She always seemed to be at a disadvantage when it came to their interactions.
He took her hand in his, examining the shallow cuts and scrapes that covered the palm. She had tried to catch herself when she fell. It was a wonder she hadn’t broken an arm. He ran his thumb gently over the worst of the wounds. “I lost ten years off my life today.”
He looked at her, for once his dark gaze completely unguarded, and her breath caught in her chest. Was she imagining the agonized concern she saw there?
She curled her fingers around his palm. “I’m so sorry. I should have had my phone with me.”
He shrugged. “Reception is sometimes spotty once you get away from the house. It might not have been any help. Your son, on the other hand, is one hell of a smart kid.”
She might have taken offense at the “your son” reference, if not for the fact that Trent’s face beamed with pride.
