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River’s Bend had been destroyed, but the only fatalities had been from the stretch of ranches on the far side of town.
Bailey’s neighbors.
So…hope hadn’t been high.
But, somehow, she’d survived, and she was banged up—ribs, leg, lungs, and various scrapes, bumps, bruises, and burns.
But she wasalive.
“I didn’t want to panic you,” she continued whispering, “but he’s”—a nod to her man, holding her gently around her middle like the precious object she was—“barely closed his eyes since they’d found me, and I need to make sure he goes.”
I knew Bailey had been found—Axel had called me and I’d let the rest of the guys looking for her know.
But I also knew because of Billie Rose—she’d told me as much in between her bouts of tears.
Tears that were fresh in my mind.
Mostly because they’d come before the tequila-hazed memories.
When I held her and her pain over the town being destroyed and losing those ranchers had collided with relief that Bailey was alive and whole and—
And she’d lost it.
In my arms.
Fuck.
“It’s okay,” I said, focusing on Bailey and not the mess I’d made with the mayor. I moved close, gently ran my thumb over Bailey’s cheek. She wasn’t mine, but she’d grown on me. Smart, sassy, tough, she’d been through more than her fair share, but she’d come out with a big heart and a quick smile.
She was perfect for Axel.
“I called four times,” she whispered. “That was overkill.”
I had to admit that when I’d seen Axel’s name on the screen as those missed calls, I’d been fucking worried, especially knowing that Bailey had been in the hospital recovering from everything.
And the blow about responsibilities that Billie had laid on me before she’d left had struck again.
Only harder.
Because my friend’s woman was in the hospital and Axel had called four times.
But then I’d called back, and Bailey had picked up.
She was okay. She needed my help.
She—
Was biting her lip and looking uncertain.
“It’s fine,” I assured her. “I was worried about you, but you’re good and so, it’s all good.”
She didn’t release that lip, not for a long moment. “And do you…agree with me?”
Agree with her conspiring with the doctors to be released early from the hospital so that Axel could play in game seven of the Stanley Cup Finals? Fuck no. If Bailey was my woman and I’d come as close to losing her as Axel had, I’d want her in the hospital for a few extra days, just for good measure. But, at the same time, Axel was my friend, and he’d worked his ass off to make it in the NHL, to make it to the playoffs, to evenbein a position to play in a game where winning it meant he’d get to heft the Cup.
That, alone, washuge.
That shit didn’t come often, even for the best of the best pro players.
