Page 86 of Spurred On

Chapter Fifteen

It was wrong that it felt so right to walk into the hospital with Cody at her side. She really had no business keeping him from his work, but he’d insisted on coming, kind of, and the last thing she wanted to do was shoot him down.

Plus, she wanted him there. Needed him there. His support had become . . . necessary to her. It was as though as long as he was there, everything would be all right.

This postulation was proved correct when they got up to the ICU wing and were told that her father had just woken up.

It could have been Cody’s charmed presence, or Hanna’s. It seemed to Sidney that her sister lived a blessed existence—she waltzed into a disaster and the world magically flipped back to rights. But Sidney didn’t care who was responsible; she was simply delighted.

Granted, Dad still looked pale and weak, but it was glorious to see his eyes open, to see his smile, to feel his hand, warm and grasping hers. They only had a few minutes to chat because Nurse Nazi shooed them out. The doctor wanted him well-rested for the surgery, she told them, which would probably take place today. The word bypass was bandied about.

As they came out of ICU, Hanna crumpled. She’d been a real trooper in there, cheering Dad on and blathering about how he was doing great . . . but once they were beyond earshot, she choked on a sob and pulled Sidney into her arms. “Oh my God!” she wailed. “Oh my God. He looked so . . .”

“I know,” Sidney said, but it took an effort not to roll her eyes. He’d been far worse yesterday, but Hanna had missed that. “Trust me, this is good.” He’d been awake, alert and talking.

Once they got to the waiting room, Hanna deserted her for Logan; she draped herself over him and sobbed. He patted her back and murmured things like “There, there,” and “Now, now.” He shot Sidney a questioning glance over Hanna’s shoulder.

“He’s looking good,” she said in a chipper voice.

“Good?” Hanna howled.

“Much better than yesterday.”

“Really?” Hanna sniffed. She took the tissue Logan offered and mopped at her cheeks.

“Much better.” Sidney sat down next to Cody. He put his arm around her and rubbed her neck. It was so soothing she wanted to sink into it. “They’re thinking he’s ready for the surgery,” she told him.

“That’s great.”

It was. She leaned against him, setting her cheek on his chest, and he held her closer. It was nice having someone around who would hold you when you were afraid. Nice having someone to stroke your nape, or brush your hair from your face when it needed it, or just to be there.

“Logan,” Hanna said, “I need some air.” She shot a glance at Sidney. “Do you mind if we go for a walk? I just can’t . . . It’s too . . . I—”

“Hanna. Go,” Sidney said. “I totally understand.” She hopped up to give her sister another hug. “I get it. Go do what you need to do. We’ll be here. I’ll call you if anything happens. I promise.”

Hanna tightened her hold. “I love you, Sidney,” she said, and Sidney stilled. It wasn’t something the two sisters ever said, although they knew, somewhere in the well of their souls, it was true. The words, however, were hard to say, and raw.

But she had to say them. Had to reciprocate. Had to force them past the prickly barriers in her throat. “I love you too, Hanna.”

The flush of warmth blossoming in her chest surprised her.

She’d had no inkling that uttering three such simple words would feel so good.

Hanna pulled back and offered her a watery smile and then hugged her again, quick, wild, and warm. “I promise we won’t be long,” she whispered in Sidney’s ear.

“Take your time.” She waggled her phone. “I’ll text you if anything happens.”

Sidney dropped into her chair with a sigh as she watched her sister and Logan head for the elevators. He wrapped her arm around Hanna’s shoulder and drew her close. It was a lovely image, but somehow blurred.

“Is your dad really looking better?” Cody asked.

Sidney blinked several times. “Yes. He is. Why do you ask?”

To her surprise, he gently touched her cheek, and she realized he was wiping away her tears. “You’re crying.”

“I’m not.” She sniffed.

“You are.” He held up a damp thumb. “Why are you sad?”