Lawful Heart

by Amity Lassiter

  “I think it’s time for you to leave,” a voice said from the porch above her. When Norah looked up, Lily, Emma, Ren, and Layla had assembled with their arms folded over the rail, each one with an expression more terrifying than the last. Layla straightened, shaking her arms out like an athlete. The humor of her big, pregnant belly in that moment wasn’t lost on Norah despite the terse situation. “I always welcome an opportunity for batting practice.”

  Norah had no idea here it had come from, but Layla hoisted a bat not unlike the one from the bar over her shoulder as if she were a major league player.

  Norah could see Rob calculating his options. He might have been a piece of shit but he was a cowardly piece of shit and Layla had already run him off once. She was much more pregnant now than she had been then—much more potential for wild anger. His mouth set in a line.

  “This is your last chance, Norah. To have the life you know. If I leave now, I won’t come back. You won’t ever see me again. Our relationship will be over. And you won’t ever see a penny of child support.”

  Those sounded like pretty good promises to her.

  “I think I’ll take my chances on this life.”

  —THIRTY-SEVEN—

  “She was conscious when she arrived but she doesn’t remember what happened right before she crashed. We did some tests and a full work up and everything looks okay, though her arm is badly broken. All her vitals are normal, her body may just be taking the time to get the rest she needs. She’s stable now.”

  But not awake. And in something clearly deeper than a restful sleep. Alarm must have read all over Banks’ face because the doctor closed the chart and leveled with him.

  “Let’s call a spade a spade here. I know we all believe her to be immortal, but at her age, a simple flu could have catastrophic results, so let’s be straight and acknowledge that things could conceivably still be touch and go. I’d be doing you a disservice if I didn’t tell you the truth. That said, it might just be time for her to slow down a little.”

  “But she’s in the right place,” Nate supplied beside him, sounding far more optimistic than Banks felt. It sure as hell didn’t feel like the right place. Nan was larger than life and it was disorienting to see her so small and still, dwarfed by the big hospital bed and all of the monitors and lines hooked up to her.

  “She is in the right place. And we’ll do our best to figure out what caused the spell that made her go off the road. She’ll be here at least a couple days once she wakes, maybe a week if I can talk her into it. I know you two will be missing her.”

  “When do you think she’ll wake up?”

  “It’s hard to say,” the doctor started. “There’s a good chance this was a complication from the blood pressure issues she’s been having, and we just have to figure out how to manage it going forward.”

  “Blood pressure issues?”

  “Yes, we’ve had it managed quite well with medication to this point, but we clearly need to revisit our treatment plan to move forward.”

  Banks frowned. “Managed? You mean this has been going on for a while?”

  Dr. Fields’ lips formed a straight line and he drew a breath, diverting his eyes to the chart he held again.

  “Dr. Fields,” Banks prompted.

  “Banks,” Nate said, warning.

  “It’s not my place to talk about a previous diagnosis, especially if she hasn’t talked to you about it. Consider that your grandmother gives so much of herself to everyone. Maybe this is something she wanted to keep for herself. You’ll have to talk to her when she’s awake, if she wants to talk about it. Regardless, we do have a management plan in place that we now know will need to be adjusted so she can carry on with her good work.

  “We’ll let her rest a bit more. For right now, I’ll leave you two alone with her.”

  And then he was gone. Banks looked at Nate, then crossed at the foot of the bed and drew the big sitting chair by the wall up beside Nan’s head.

  “I’ll wait.”

  Nate gave him a look over Nan’s resting body.

  “Did you know?” Banks started.

  “Banks,” Nate said, using the same warning tone he had previously.

  “You knew, didn’t you?”

  “No, but we don’t have to know everything. Maybe Dr. Fields is right—maybe she wanted privacy here. And now I can’t leave here and let you give her a hard time for not telling you when she wakes up.”

  He frowned and leaned forward, taking Nan’s small, papery hand in his own. It struck him then how fragile she was. Nan had always been a titan in his mind. She was a whirlwind when they were children—she never missed a beat, an opportunity to play, or a baseball game. She’d been grandmother and mother and father to him and Nate, and while he’d sometimes thought about his parents and the fact they’d left them, he never felt like he’d gotten cheated out of a full, loving family. And that was because of Nan.

  “I won’t.”

  “What else?”

  Banks looked up at his brother with a frown. Nate watched him intently. While they’d always had friends in the Baylor brothers, Nate had been his closest confidant and friend growing up, with less than 2 years between them in age. He could hide a lot of things behind a good poker face, but not from Nate. He could pick up the tiniest thing, and it annoyed the hell out of Banks. There was no such thing as a surprise, or something for just the big brother to handle. They were a team.

  “I should have been here. I should have known.”

  “Banks. You were there. We both were. There’s nothing to know if she’s not telling.”

  “I was distracted. I should have been paying attention.”

  Nate’s brow tipped up sharply.

  “Are you implying what I think you’re implying?”

  Banks was quiet, he didn’t want to say it out loud. He loved Norah, there was no doubt about that. He just wasn’t sure he could still juggle all the balls when she was around. There was a reason he’d been single for such a long time. He couldn’t believe he hadn’t realized it sooner—he’d been too busy all loved up, thinking about what his future with Norah and Jellybean looked like to realize he was missing big picture stuff. If he was missing things like this in his personal life, what was he missing in his professional life?

  “Well do you think I’m too distracted?” Nate asked. It slowed Banks’ brain train but didn’t derail it completely.

  “Of course not.” No, Nate had a lot on the go—a toddler and another on the way soon, his job at the rodeo school, that old house they lived in that was undergoing almost constant renovations—but his brother still had a good grip on things from Banks’ view.

  “Well what the hell is the difference?”

  “I’m the sheriff,” Banks hissed, getting hot under the collar. He had enough on his plate with his realization; he really didn’t need his little brother giving him grief on top of it. What was so hard for Nate to understand here?

  “Lots of sheriffs before you and lots after have had women and children in their life, ailing family members and a hell of a lot more trouble in their towns, and by some strange miracle, they manage,” Nate countered, his voice forceful, but quiet. “You can do it, too.”

  —THIRTY-EIGHT—

  Norah sat in silence in the back seat of Nate Baylor’s big extended cab truck while Lily navigated off the highway into Johnston. Up front, Layla sat in the same sort of quiet. Tension in the cab was so thick it almost slowed movement. Anxious, Norah folded her hands in her lap, then opened her palms on her thighs. Jellybean kicked up a storm and Norah’s heart was going about the same way, in fits and starts.

  The day had been long, and full of adrenaline—the good and bad kind. And now the worry had set in. There would be no rest. She only prayed that her gracious hostess was okay and it was all a minor incident or a misunderstanding, but she didn’t feel confident about that. She didn’t feel confident about anything right now.

  The drive to Johnston felt slow while anxiety
ran all her thoughts at double time, but quick when she realized, as they pulled into the parking lot, that once they walked into the hospital, Nan was either okay or she wasn’t, no longer Schroedinger’s patient, both okay and not okay, as long as they didn’t look in the box.

  Lily parked the truck. Layla waited by the back door and helped Norah climb down out of the big truck. She was grateful because her knees shook the minute her feet hit the ground. All of this adrenaline hadn’t given credit to how shaken up she was from Rob showing up at her sanctuary, the one place where she’d felt safe. The trio linked arms, supporting one another as they walked the long stretch up to the hospital from the visitor parking area.

  The last time Norah had been here she’d been filled with a different kind of anxiety, but left with a heart filled with hope and happiness. She hoped the same would happen today, but her mind kept skipping to the worst case scenario.

  Inside the lobby, Layla stopped at the front desk to find out where Nan was and then led them through a maze of hallways and up two floors on an elevator, into the bowels of the hospital. They rounded a corner to find Carter Collins sitting next to his hat in a small square waiting room, opened to a window and lined on three sides with chairs. Beyond the waiting room, Norah could see the busy bustle of nurses and doctors moving around, slipping in and out of patient rooms.

  Carter got to his feet when he saw them coming.

  “Ladies,” he said.

  “Is there any news?” Layla asked, tension tightening her voice.

  The deputy shook his head, glanced toward the rest of the ward.

  “The boys have been in there for a while. I’m just keepin’ everything crossed.”

  Layla frowned. Norah’s stomach twisted in knots. No news could be good news, she supposed. Or they could be in there grieving. She hated not knowing.

  Just as she started to settle into the sneaky spiral of anxiety her brain had set her up for, Nate and Banks came into the waiting room. Immediately, Nate stepped to Layla’s side, sliding his arm around her waist. Banks had his hat in his hands, and looked every part the sheriff. He looked to Carter and Layla and barely passed a glance toward Norah.

  Maybe she shouldn’t have come. She wasn’t, after all, actually a part of the family. She was just Banks’ very new girlfriend and Nan’s tenant. Suddenly she felt like an intruder. She twisted her fingers together and bit her bottom lip. She’d made a mistake, and now she felt like she was inside of a very intimate moment she hadn’t been meant to see.

  “She’s not awake but she was when she got here,” he began. “They’re waiting to see if she’ll wake up on her again, and supporting her for the time being. Her arm is broken, but they don’t know much else.”

  “So is she going to be okay?” Layla asked, clutching Nate’s arm.

  “That remains to be seen, I guess.”

  Norah could see every ounce of burden that Banks shouldered written all over his handsome face. Creases on his brow and around his mouth had deepened just in the couple of hours since she’d seen him. Those intense eyes were clouded over with immense pain. Nan was alive, but he sure looked like he was already mourning. She wanted to touch him, brush her fingers over his brow, comfort him in the way he would comfort her, but beyond the stress, there was an undeniable ‘do not touch’ wall shuttering him in.

  She cleared her throat.

  “Can I get some coffee for you guys? Or anything?”

  She wanted to be useful. She couldn’t leave, because she had no vehicle, so if she was going to be here, she was going to make herself indispensable to the family.

  Layla sniffled a bit and lifted her head.

  “Oh, Norah. That’s sweet. I’ll come with you.”

  She shook her head.

  “No, I’m okay to do it myself. You should be here with your family.”

  Carter narrowed his gaze on her, taking a cue she hadn’t actually put out. Not on purpose, anyway.

  “I’ll go with you, Norah. I know exactly where to find the coffee machine.”

  Banks started to protest, but Carter shook his head.

  “It could be a long night.”

  He walked past the cluster of family and took stride next to Norah, guiding her through the halls to a coffee machine, where he produced quarters from the pocket of his uniform pants and fed them into the machine. Norah took each coffee as it came and doctored it the way each family member liked it, remembering from the dinners they’d shared together where she’d felt like a Montgomery herself. That was how Nan wanted her to feel, she’d told her once. Norah sure as hell didn’t feel like she belonged to the family now.

  “What do you think, Carter? Are the boys all right?”

  Carter glanced up as the last coffee sputtered into the paper cup he’d put under the dispenser. He tipped his head to the side and drew a breath.

  “As long as Nan is all right, the boys will be all right.”

  “And if she isn’t?” Norah was afraid to ask, but she had to know. Maybe this was just how Banks was under stress. Up to this point, she’d barely believe that anything could ruffle that man. He took everything in stride, almost casually, everything rolled off his back. She’d truly believed, apart from Dixie’s foaling, that this man could handle just about anything with absolutely no stress.

  Carter shrugged.

  “I don’t know. This is uncharted territory,” he said, handing her the final coffee—Banks’. She fixed it like she did every day in the office. A gesture, there. A peace offering here.

  “I love this family, you know,” Norah said resolutely, sliding the cups into a carton to spare their hands. Carter stepped in and picked it up.

  “Me too,” he said. “And they love both of us. That’s the superpower of the Montgomery family. To know them is to love them, and vice versa.

  “They definitely love you. Banks, too. Especially, maybe. I’ve never seen him this keen on a woman, in all the years I’ve known him. He’s always done a good job just focusing on work and his horses, his family and serving the community. That’s his calling. But he’s approached dating you just like it’s one of those things that he’s been divinely directed to do.”

  Well, she hadn’t thought of it that way. Didn’t see it that way at all. But, she supposed, she didn’t know adult Banks. Hadn’t known him since he was a kind, thoughtful child. She shouldn’t have been surprised, based on that, but it felt validating to hear it from someone besides Layla.

  When they got back to the waiting room, Lily, Layla and Nate had gone. Carter handed her Banks’ coffee and slipped back into the seat where he’d been sitting when they’d come in.

  “Nate took Layla in to see Nan,” Banks said, then ushered Norah off to a small cluster of chairs by themselves, his back to Carter. He sat down, but only on the edge of the seat. His outer leg jiggled anxiously. He wasn’t normal Banks, that was for sure, but maybe this was just how he dealt with this kind of stress. Over his shoulder, Norah could see Carter trying hard not to look, taking a big slurp of his coffee.

  She passed Banks the coffee and their fingers touched, his lingering against hers for a moment. She heard him draw a big breath.

  “How did things go with Rob?” he asked, lifting the coffee to his lips finally.

  “It was…not as bad as I had imagined it would be. I stood up to him. The girls stood behind me. He went away. I don’t think we’ll hear from him again.”

  “That’d be a blessing,” he said, shaking his head. “That guy is bad news.”

  “Well, I have the guy that’s good news now,” she said. “I don’t think I could have faced him without the confidence our relationship has given me.”

  There. It was out in the open. Whatever he was going through, she appreciated him. She wanted to be with him. He’d changed her. She might not have told him she loved him yet, but she did need him.

  He cleared his throat, shifting uncomfortably, and let out a breath as big as the one he’d just drawn. She sought his gaze, finding his eyes s
huttered with regret.

  Oh.

  She’d never felt so dumb.

  “Norah, I think we should take a step back.”

  It smarted more than she’d expected it would. She was used to being disappointed, she’d spent most of her life doing it. But her heart squeezed so tight it shattered into a million pieces in a moment. Tears burned her eyes. Her lips parted and closed, like she had something to say, but nothing would come up past the huge lump in her throat. She’d made herself vulnerable for him. She should have known better than to put all her eggs in the basket of a knight in shining armor. No man was as good as that.

  Okay, Banks was. She knew it. She refused to believe she’d misjudged his character so dramatically. So it had to be something with her, not him.

  “I just…I’m so rooted in you, I’ve lost sight of my other responsibilities. The doctor said something is going on with Nan that’s been going on for a while. And I didn’t know. I’ve been distracted. I can’t afford to be distracted.”

  A distraction. She was a distraction, and that was it. All the work she’d done to convince herself she was something more, and here he was confirming her worst fear all along. She let out a slow breath through her nose.

  “I’m sorry, I know this means a lot to you,” he paused, almost a beat too long, then reached out and touched her knee. She wished he wouldn’t have. “It means a lot to me, too. But this town, my Nan…these things are my whole damn life. And I can’t afford to take my eyes off of them for one moment, because then things like this happen, when I’m not watching.”

  Norah was embarrassed when a tear finally made its way to the surface, trekking down her cheek, a lone soldier. She steeled herself up immediately. That’s enough of that. He’s seen enough of your weaknesses. She swiped at it, annoyed.

  The crease in Banks’ brow intensified as he watched her. Searching for another tear, maybe. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. She drew a breath and felt her spine stiffen. She’d been alone before, she could be alone again.