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“Promise?”
“Absolutely.”
As Brynnie walked outside, Mason said a few words to Dee Dee, then crossed the room. He hitched his chin toward the windows and beyond, where Brynnie was rifling through her purse. “She’s not so bad, now, is she?” he asked.
“Brynnie?” Bliss sighed as she watched Brynnie shake out a cigarette and light it with trembling hands. “No. I guess not. She loves Dad.” Bliss bit her lower lip. “That much is obvious. And Mom is gone, but…I had this belief that marriage should last forever, that two people could be faithful for a lifetime, that… Oh, I don’t know.” She shook her head. Right now, nothing mattered except her father’s health.
Mason rubbed his jaw. “I would never have guessed you for a romantic.”
“I’m not a—Look, I just believe in commitment.”
“Hard to come by these days.”
She cringed inside because she knew he was telling the truth. “People just don’t try hard enough.”
He eyed her speculatively but didn’t say a word, and she suspected he thought her incredibly naive. So let him. She had her convictions.
The woman with the sleeping baby was called into one of the rooms. She disappeared for a few minutes, then returned not only with the infant but also with a girl of about twelve with a cast that ran from her fingers to her shoulder on her right arm.
“Ms. Cawthorne?” a nurse paged.
“Just a minute.”
“I’ll wait out here with Dee Dee,” Mason said.
Bliss waved to Brynnie, who took one last drag and stuffed her cigarette into the sand of an ash can filled with other used cigarettes. She hurried inside. “Come on, I think they’re going to let us see Dad now,” Bliss said, shepherding the older woman down a short hallway to a bed surrounded by hanging sheets.
Her father, pale and gaunt, eyes slightly sunken, lay staring at the ceiling. His thin hair was mussed, his expression grim and angry. “What the hell am I doin’ here?” he demanded.
“You—you collapsed,” Brynnie said, choking back tears. “Oh, baby, are you all right?” She nearly stumbled against the metal railing of the bed to reach for his hand. Her fingers l
aced with his despite the IV dripping into the back of his wrist.
“I’ll live,” he grumbled, apparently not too happy about the prospect. “Seems that every time I wake up, I’m in some damned hospital.”
“A habit you’d better break,” Bliss said.
Brynnie patted his arm tenderly. “I talked to Mason and he’s made me an offer to buy back the ranch and, oh, John, if that’s what will make you happy, I’ll do it. I—I had no business trying to tell you what to do or make you do what I wanted even if it was for your own good. It was stupid of me to sell out. Stupid, stupid, stupid!”
“We’ll see,” John said with a sigh. He looked as if he’d given up on life, and a little part of Bliss died. Too many times in the past her father’s anger had taken hold of his tongue and he’d been rash, unreasonable and sometimes nearly cruel, but she’d love to see some of the old fight in him today. Instead, he looked old and beaten down.
“The paramedics were right,” a doctor said as he pushed aside the curtain. “Heatstroke.” The name tag on his white coat identified him as Dr. James Ferris. He eyed John’s chart. “Has anyone suggested to this guy that he should slow down?”
“Bah!”
“Only his cardiologist,” Bliss interjected and was rewarded with a warning glare from her father. “And a few other doctors.”
“So this is a hearing problem, eh?” the doctor joked as he picked up his patient’s chart and made a note.
“Listening problem,” Bliss corrected.
“I hope you’re having fun at my expense,” John retorted grumpily. “Now, when can I get out of here?”
“Tomorrow, if you’re lucky.” The doctor clicked his pen and jammed it into his pocket. “I still want to run a few tests and talk to your doctors in Seattle.”
“What do they know?” John complained.
“You listen to them.” Brynnie’s lips were compressed with new determination. “I’m not about to become your widow before I get to be your bride.”
