Legacy Lost

by Jillian David

  “How’s Kerr doing with all of this?”

  “How do you think he’s doing? Best friend and twin sister both in comas. Sister’s leg might need to be . . . ” She heard the swallow, too loud in the quiet room. “Anyway. He’s dealing, best he can.”

  She needed to change the subject, fast. “Did I imagine seeing Vaughn, out in the woods?”

  “No. You saw him. He showed up. How long he’ll stay, I don’t know, but he’s helping out for now.”

  “You don’t sound happy.”

  Motion. Removing a hand from her arm to rest a fist on his knee. At least she could track some basic actions with her crappy eyesight.

  He said, “You’ll recall that Vaughn had something to do with my wife leaving.”

  “Not his fault.”

  “Don’t be so sure about that. He also left us when we needed him most.”

  “If you said it in a tone like that, I don’t blame him for staying away.”

  “Son of a bitch, Shel, why does everyone make excuses for him?”

  She flinched. “Maybe he needs someone to give him a break. Or find out the real story first. How about be thankful he’s still alive and he’s here?” Whereas she and Eric had almost died. No guarantees one or both of them would survive before things were done.

  “Point taken. Sorry. Sara says I have to work on my sensitivity.”

  “I knew I liked her.” She swallowed. “So, where is he?”

  “Vaughn? He’ll be here in a little bit. We’ve been trading off duties. He’s been staying at the ranch. It has been good to have him helping out. And of course Dad’s happy he’s home.”

  A tiny twist in her chest, almost like jealousy, came and went. A reflection of Garrison’s feelings and hers. Garrison needed his big brother, Vaughn, even if he wouldn’t admit it. And Dad must love seeing his eldest son. So if her contribution value to the family dropped as payment for having Vaughn back, then so be it.

  Heck, gimpy leg and half-blind didn’t exactly scream “maximal contribution” anyway.

  Shifting to a more comfortable position, she sniffed. “What’s here in the room? I smell flowers. And I can hear beeps and a little bit of stuff going on in the hall, but that’s about it.”

  “Hmm. This hospital room? Well, there are several over-the-top bouquets. Not sure what we’re going to do with those,” he muttered.

  She snorted. Of all the things to worry about.

  “And you’ve got a very respectable pile of cards. Must be a few people you haven’t ticked off.” The swishing sounds of paper greeted her. “Want me to read a few?”

  “Sure.”

  “This one from Kerr has a picture of a monkey doing something inappropriate.”

  “Enough said. Next.”

  He chuckled. “How about this pretty sunset picture on front, and inside it says ‘get well soon, we miss you’ from Sara. Zach added to it by drawing what looks like a two-headed, starving horse.”

  “That’s classic. Any others?” Shelby laid her hands down on her abdomen and sank into the pillow.

  The tear of an envelope thickened the air. “This one’s from Ruth and Odie.”

  “They stuck around? After all the craziness?”

  “In all fairness, they didn’t witness all of the weird things happening. Those two think the Taggarts are all just having a really bad couple of weeks. But I get the impression it takes a lot of insanity to rattle Ruth or Odie. They’re pretty tough people. She’s still here helping Dad.”

  “That’s good. He needs the therapy.” Shelby had questions for Dad’s nurse. That woman knew more than she was letting on.

  Shelby yawned. Later, though.

  A paper swished and Garrison said, “A picture of pleasant, kind of girly flowers on the front. Inside is blank. Handwritten, it says, ‘We’re proud of you and your stubbornness.’ What the heck does that mean?”

  Shelby sat up. A pulse throbbed in her temple.

  Stubbornness.

  Damn it. Why was she still sitting here?

  She swallowed. “Enough chitchat. I want to see Eric.”

  “That’s not a good idea, sis.”

  “Screw that. Help me out, or I’ll do it myself, probably get hurt, and it’ll be your fault.”

  “You’re a real pip, you know?”

  “Darn straight.” She sat up and ignored his protest as she slid her legs off the bed.

  Bad move. The pulse of pain in her right leg took her breath away.

  “Seriously, stop moving, damn it,” he barked. “Son of a bitch. Fine. I’ll be right back with a wheelchair.”

  She took slow drags of air into her sore lungs and willed her leg to stop throbbing.

  Garrison and a frowning nurse returned to help her into the chair. Every movement hurt, but she needed to see Eric.

  As Garrison wheeled her down the hall, her senses tingled, picking up the strongest emotions from the people around her. Her vision couldn’t keep up with all of the equipment and rooms they passed. Her eyesight was still blurry but gradually improving. Thank God.

  Ahead of her, a large, familiar shape took form.

  Vaughn sauntered down the hall.

  “Hi, sis.”

  “You’re here?”

  “You did call.” His rumbling voice got prickly.

  She grinned. “Glad you checked your messages. And, wow, you got here really quickly.”

  “I have a friend with a private plane.”

  “You say it like such a thing is no big deal.”

  “It isn’t.”

  Patting his arm, she worked her hand up to his rock-hard shoulder. “What the heck? You’re massive.”

  “I’ve stayed fit.” His puma dark eyes, inches from her face, glinted with gold as he hugged her in a careful squeeze.

  “Dude, that’s not fit, that’s ripped. What have you been doing?”

  His crooked smile softened his severe jaw. “Tell you later. Now let Garrison push you around.” He glanced up, over his shoulder. His eyebrows rose and he backed away from Shelby a step.

  “What are you doing?” A woman’s irritated voice cut through the hallway.

  Vaughn’s spine snapped straight. A strange wave of emotion burst out of him until he clamped down his feelings. Interesting.

  “You guys, what the heck?” the woman asked.

  “We’re taking our sister to see the patient in that room,” Vaughn replied. Taking charge as usual, her massive brother stared down the five-foot-nothing brunette in a crisp white lab coat.

  “This may not be safe. I didn’t give permission for her to be moved.” The woman spaced her legs shoulder width apart and fingered the stethoscope that hung from her neck.

  “We didn’t ask your permission,” Vaughn countered. Although his voice remained steady, red color climbed his neck. Oh no. Her oldest brother had the most ungodly temper. Garrison’s was bad; Kerr’s was rare but impressive. But Vaughn’s? His temper ran to mythic, explosive proportions.

  This woman seemed like a nice person who didn’t deserve big brother’s wrath.

  “You sound familiar,” Shelby directed her comment to the woman.

  The woman rested a warm, small hand on Shelby’s arm. “I’m Mariah West, one of the family doctors. I checked on you yesterday morning, but you were still pretty groggy. I’m also the ER doctor who has been seeing far too much of you Taggarts over the past several weeks.”

  “So why are you working up here and not the ER then?” Vaughn rubbed his hard chin and sniffed.

  Dr. West shrugged, like dealing with a boneheaded, muscle-bound mass of anger was no big deal. “Mister Taggart. Being from New York and all, you’re probably used to big city medicine, but this is a rural hospital.” She emphasized the word with the perfect amount of snark balanced with professional confidence. “There aren’t a lot of specialists around. We all wear multiple hats around here.”

  “Well, then how’d you have an orthopedics guy around for Shelby?” Vaughn lifted his chin.

&nb
sp; Shelby heard Garrison’s horrified snort and seconded the sentiment.

  Dr. West went toe-to-toe with her big brother. “We were very lucky. Our orthopedist happened to be in town after his outreach day in the clinic. He canceled his weekend plans so that he could stay and patch her up in the OR and then check on her over the weekend, and we appreciated him doing so. Didn’t we? Yes. You’re welcome.”

  She took another breath. “Anything else you want to discuss? How I schedule my day? Or maybe how we obtain prior authorizations from insurances? How about the way we pulled together every last damned resource in the county to keep your friends and family alive? What? No comment? Suddenly have nothing to say?”

  “Uh, no.” His chin dropped.

  Vaughn backed down. Wow.

  Shelby managed to reach for and shake the doctor’s hand. “Even if my boneheaded brother is too stupid to say it, thank you for making sure we all got patched back up.” Anything to break the tension. “This time and also few weeks ago when my nephew came in. And thanks for taking care of our dad when he had the stroke.”

  “And taking care of my girlfriend,” Garrison added.

  “My pleasure.” She smiled at Shelby and Garrison but slid an almost snarl past Vaughn and he stiffened. Good for her.

  “How’s Eric doing?” Shelby asked.

  She rolled her lips together. “Stable. I’ve been in contact with the specialists in Casper, and we’ve done all the tests and treatments they recommended. We talked about sending him up to Casper, but neurology said it’s mostly a matter of giving him time to wake up.”

  “How much time do they think he needs?” Shelby asked.

  Dr. West didn’t meet her eyes. “It’s different from person to person.”

  She pinched the bridge of her nose. “He should be awake by now, right?”

  “Well. Yes.” At least the woman didn’t pull punches. “But every patient is different.”

  “Yeah. Okay.” She sniffed. “Garrison, could we go in now? If it’s okay with Dr. West.”

  “All right,” the doctor murmured.

  Garrison propelled Shelby forward as Vaughn followed, like a huge, docile puppy.

  They entered the small ICU and into a patient room. Eric’s still body took up all of the space on the bed, his head partially wrapped in bandages, his face relaxed, like he took a restful nap.

  Except no background emotions and thoughts came from him.

  Shelby swallowed a hard lump in her throat.

  Garrison parked her next to the bed.

  “You guys mind giving me a minute?” she asked.

  After a pause, her brothers turned and exited. Those two were so similar in stature and mannerisms, but so different in terms of life paths. She shook her head. Not going to deal with those two head-butting rams right now. Plenty of time for that later.

  Eric breathed steadily, his broad chest rising and falling. A light brown beard had grown in over the past few days, giving him an even more rugged appearance. The raccoon bruise around his right eye added to the rough look.

  He’d saved her life, only to risk his own.

  Her soul’s answer to a question she didn’t dare ask? It lay right in front of her. It had been right there for all these years, and she had been too stupid to see it.

  Now she might lose him forever.

  It hurt to fill her lungs with air.

  She opened her senses, trying to detect his emotions and thoughts.

  Nothing.

  What if he never woke up?

  Tears pricked at her eyes, and she took his hand. The IV had been moved to a central line coming out of the subclavian vein under his collarbone. Which meant the hospital folks expected him to require IV fluids or nutrition for a long time.

  A shell. No spark of life. No waking up.

  Emptiness steamrolled her heart until no substance remained.

  What would her brothers do if a loved one lay in the bed like this?

  Vaughn would storm out and try to pick a fight with someone so he could enjoy smashing the person’s face in, just to give him something to do.

  Kerr would fade away and sneak around to find the solution.

  And Garrison? When Sara’s life was in danger, his power had morphed from detecting lies to actively finding the truth in his most desperate time of need.

  How ironic. All Shelby wanted was not to know the details of Eric’s thoughts. At least not every iota. But right about now, she’d settle for a suggestive image. Anything but this blank nothingness.

  She dropped her forehead on the bed railing. Her power had already shifted in her most desperate time of need, there at the base of the bluff, with pure evil trying to incinerate her and Eric.

  Garrison had entered a man’s head to get the information he needed. He’d been stubborn. He hadn’t given up, even with the odds stacked against him.

  Shelby had entered that creature’s mind to disrupt the destruction it rained down on them.

  Well, what if she could try something like that with Eric? Entering his mind to discover what was wrong? She had entered the evil creature’s mind.

  And went temporarily blind and partially deaf.

  How risky would such an attempt be if she tried it on Eric? Would she hurt him even more? Would she hurt herself?

  She glanced at his bruised but handsome face. Without Eric, she’d be only a husk of a person. Sure, her family was wonderful and she loved them. She had her work with Search and Rescue and she was damned good at it. But without Eric, having a missing piece of her soul would eventually destroy her.

  One more time. She’d try her extra power once more. Then she’d stop.

  How badly could it hurt her?

  Very.

  Ruth’s words floated back. “Willpower. Openness to change . . . and stubbornness.”

  Shoving her doubts to the side, Shelby focused on his closed eyes and fought against the sudden headache that attacked her. She dropped all shielding, every filter, opened herself up entirely to him. Instead of avoiding contact and avoiding connection, she sought it out.

  Like she did with that black nasty figure of evil, she aimed her thoughts toward Eric. This time, she had no angry intentions. Nothing but concern and love for him.

  She pushed past virtual gossamer curtains drifting around his inner self and reached Eric’s core—a dark blue sphere, the same color as his eyes. His mind gave off a faint glow. No wriggling mass like in that dark creature’s mind, just a comfortable sense of Eric as she drifted, suspended next to his mind.

  She floated to the edge of his consciousness.

  “Eric?”

  Nothing.

  The glow remained the same. Dull. Lifeless. Barely present.

  Her chest ached.

  “Eric?”

  A shift in the sphere, not so much seen as felt. Like a vibration changing tone.

  Mentally, she reached out and touched the edge of his consciousness. Then, like a drop of oil joining its own, she slipped through the barrier and melded her mind to his. She plunged deeper, dropping far down to the center of his being.

  There. A tiny bright spark remained.

  “Eric?”

  “Shelby?” The smallest sound, not even a whisper.

  “Yes.”

  Awe brushed against her, a gentle wave lapping at a lakeshore. “What are you doing here?” he asked.

  “Visiting.”

  “Won’t this hurt you?”

  “Probably. But you’re too far away for normal contact.”

  A pulse of his mind. Contemplative. “I don’t understand.”

  “It’s time to come back, Eric.”

  A pause. The blue light dimmed. “Why?”

  “Because you belong out there, in the real world.”

  “Do I?”

  “I need you out there.”

  “It’s safer here. Comfortable.” A sense of warm coziness and lassitude hit her. No kidding; it was pretty nice in here.

  Focus.

  “God,
do I know it. But if you follow me out, I’ll be waiting for you.”

  “The real Shelby?”

  “Oh yes.”

  A pause. “This isn’t a dream? You’re alive?”

  Her mental self laughed. “Yes.”

  “Why should I follow you?”

  “Because.” She struggled to find the words. But she had to say them. This was true vulnerability. True risk. “Because I love you, Eric. I don’t know what to do with a world that doesn’t have you in it. I don’t know what I’ll do if we can’t be in the real world, together.”

  “Are you saying that so I’ll come out?”

  “Yes. But I also mean it.”

  “All right, then.”

  She slid back out of the core of his consciousness and floated outside of his mind, watching. The dull glow brightened until she had to virtually squint. Warm waves radiated out from him, lifting her heart, making her smile.

  Then the images started to flow.

  The softness of her hand wrapped in his rough one.

  Her horrified cries as the rocks fell on them.

  Her pink nipples tightening as he leaned over her on the bed.

  The smoke-driven fear on her face as she rode her horse out of the burning barn.

  The quirk of her mouth when she grinned.

  And on and on. Moments he had etched in his memory. Times she didn’t even remember. A glance here, a word there, and he had remembered them all.

  She was too close. His images flooded her mind with nonstop blasts of sensations and pictures, all flying out from his head in a deluge of information as the light from his mind became brighter and brighter.

  Overloading her taxed brain.

  She backpedaled past the gossamer outer sheets of his consciousness, a tidal wave of mental energy chasing her like an earthen dam breached after too much rainfall.

  The ache pushed past her throbbing headache and fading vision. She opened her real eyes in the patient room.

  Thoughts and sounds expanded inside her brain. Pressed it too far to the edges. Hurt. Light and sound receded, squeezed out of her.

  With the last bit of vision left, she searched for his handsome face.

  Right before her eyes closed . . .

  His opened.

  Chapter 32

  “Shelby?” A low voice rolled through her ear and jaw, to form a delicious coil in her chest.