Page 56 of Three Months Yesterday

I scrub my hands over my face, the memory of Madison’s small fingers in mine still lingers, and I force myself to breathe. The need to see her, to feel the warmth of her hand in mine is staggering. I knew I cared for her before this happened, but how did I miss it becoming so much deeper.

It feels like an eternity, but in reality it’s only minutes before someone comes back for me. “She’s asking for you.” A nurse with a soft smile stands in front of me.

She doesn’t confirm who I am, but I guess she doesn’t really need to.

It’s not surprising. I’ve seen the looks passing over everyone’s face when they see me. I’m just glad no one’s commented on who I am, or approached me about anything other than the reason I’m here. It doesn’t matter, at some point I’ll have to call Ian. There’s a high probability my location will be blown as a result of this, but I can’t be sorry about it. Being with Madison is exactly where I’m supposed to be.

Relief at the nurse’s words hit so hard I’m grateful I’m sitting. I don’t think my knees could support me at the moment.

Taking a deep breath, I push to my feet and follow the nurse as she leads me through the ER before stopping outside a room labeled Trauma One.

“She’s alert,” the nurse murmurs. “She’s still in a cervical collar, but she’s stable, so you can sit with her while the doctors work on their evaluation.”

The words go in one ear and fly out the other. Nothing except the fact she’s awake and asking for me sticks in my mind. Nothing else matters.

Pushing through the curtain, I find Madison in a narrow bed looking impossibly small against the white sheets. She’s still strapped to the backboard and the brace is around her neck just like the nurse warned, but her eyes are open and they track my movement with a clarity that wasn’t there in the ambulance.

“There you are.” Her voice is rough, but it’s music to my ears. It hasn’t been long since I heard it, but there’s a confidence behind it that was missing before, and that’s more than enough to release some of the pressure sitting on my chest.

I cross the room before I even realize I’m moving. “I’m here.” The words are quieter than I intend, but the soft look in her eyes tells me she heard them just fine.

A monitor beeps steadily beside her and it’s another weight lifted. I hate the reason I need to hear the sound, but it’s another sign she’s alive and well, and I can’t have enough of those right now.

“I’m Doctor Winters.” The doctor steps forward, pulling a penlight out from her pocket before beginning her exam. “I’ve got a couple questions for you and then we’ll take you for some tests.”

“Okay.” Madison’s voice wavers and her eyes bounce from the doctor back to mine, panic swimming in their glassy depths.

I step forward, taking her hand in mine, trying to offer her as much comfort as I can. It’s not much, but it’s all I’m capable of at the moment.

“Can you tell me your full name?”

“Madison Mackenzie Hawthorne.”

“Do you know where you are?”

“The hospital.”

“Do you know what city?”

“I’m assuming Gettysburg, but I don’t know for sure.”

“Good.” The doctor offers a small smile, the only indication that things are all right. “Do you know what day it is?”

“Uh.” Madison’s brows pinch, and panic sets in. What does it mean that she can’t remember today’s date? “December twelfth.”

“Correct.” Dr. Winters asks Madison to follow her finger before continuing. “Any nausea?”

“Um, no. My head hurts.”

The doctor nods but doesn’t address the comment. “Do you remember what happened?”

“The last thing I remember is racing Beckett.”

Guilt slams into me, but I manage to nod my head when Dr. Winters glances to me for confirmation. “That was right before Meadow reared and threw her,” I force out through the tightening of my chest.

“Good.” The doctor nods before giving her full attention back to Madison. “It’s normal to forget what happened right before an accident. Especially with a concussion.”

Concussion. The word echoes in my head. Somehow that diagnosis makes everything about the situation worse.