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“I think he’d like her to be here, Sam,” Chad said and turned to Laurie. “Come on, Ma. I’ll take you back to the hotel. We can get a few hours of sleep and then we’ll come back.”
“You should go too, Sam,” Dusty said. “You’re competing tomorrow.”
“Yeah, I know.”
“I’m sorry I won’t be there.”
“It’s okay. I understand. You need to be here.”
She nodded. “You’ll be great. But you need some sleep. You can still get a few hours.”
“I’ve busted broncs on less sleep than this. I’ll be fine.”
“Just the same—”
“Yeah, I’ll go. If you need me, just call.”
Left alone in the waiting room, Dusty walked down the corridor to Zach’s private room. He lay on the bed, covered, one arm on top of the sheets hooked to an IV drip. Dusty moved the vinyl recliner in the corner next to the bed and sat down, taking Zach’s hand in hers. “I’m here,” she whispered. “I’m here, sweetheart.”
She thought she felt him squeeze her hand.
* * *
He awoke for a few minutes after dawn. Dusty brought his hand to her lips and kissed his fingertips. “Hey there,” she said.
“Hey.”
“How’re you feeling?”
“Been better,” he rasped. “Water?”
“Right away.” She quickly poured a cup from the pitcher on his night table and held it to his lips. “Here. Drink, sweetheart.”
“What happened?” he asked.
“Your leg is infected. You had a really high fever last night.”
“I’m sorry, darlin’.”
“Stop being silly. There’s nothing to be sorry about.”
“I wanted to love you all night.”
“You just concentrate on getting better. They’re drugging you with all kinds of meds, and you’ll be back on your feet in no time.”
“I’m glad you’re here.”
“There’s nowhere else I’d be.”
His parched lips curved upward slightly.
Dusty kissed his forehead. He was sweaty and clammy, but still quite hot. “I’ll be right back,” she said. She went to the bathroom and wet a cloth with cool water. When she returned, she pressed it to his forehead.
“That’s nice,” he said.
“Just relax.”
“My sweet darlin’.” He sighed. “I love you.”
