by Linda Warren
For a moment he couldn’t move his arm. It was clenched tight, still holding the stretcher. Eventually he yanked it out, as did Kid.
The crew gathered round Cadde, staring at a man Chance was sure they thought invincible. Hell, he did, too. He looked down at his older brother, whose hair was caked with blood, as was the side of his face and his shirt.
There wasn’t anything Cadde couldn’t do. He’d said High Cotton was going to win the state championship in basketball, even though they were facing a team that hadn’t lost all year. With two seconds left in the game, the other team had been ahead by one point. The coach knew that if they could get the ball to Cadde, he’d make something happen. And he did. He shot a three-pointer from center court at the sound of the buzzer, and High Cotton had its first state championship ever.
As a boy, Cadde would say he was going to own an oil company one day. He’d made that happen, too. Today he was CEO of Shilah Oil.
If he set his mind to it, Cadde could do anything, it seemed, except take a breath. His big body was still inside the straps, and Chance felt a moment of fear.
“Rev up the chopper,” he said to Kid. “We have to get him to a hospital.”
Kid seemed paralyzed now, unable to move.
“Kid,” he shouted, and his brother practically jumped off the platform.
This time Chance grabbed the stretcher with both hands. “I need a little more help, boys, to get him on the chopper.”
“Yes, sir.” Woody and Mick reached for the stretcher.
“You boys did good today. Real good,” Chance told them as they hurried to the aircraft. “We couldn’t have saved him without you.”
“It’s our job, sir.” Woody looked embarrassed.
Not quite, Chance thought as they loaded Cadde onto the chopper.
“Mr. Hardin,” Sam called above the roar of the helicopter, trying to hold on to his hard hat. “What about the well?”
“Give the boys the rest of the day off. They’ve earned it. We’ll start again in the morning.”
As the helicopter lifted off, Chance leaned his back against the wall of the aircraft, the front part of the stretcher resting on his legs. He sucked in much needed air.
“Is he breathing?” Kid asked, navigating the controls.
Chance’s eyes were glued to Cadde’s chest. There was no movement. He was so afraid. Don’t you die on us, Cadde. Chance removed his gloves and placed his hand over the leather there. No movement. No breath.
You can do anything. Don’t you dare die on us.
Chance curled his other hand into a fist and then brought it down hard atop the one on Cadde’s heart. Cadde’s chest wall rose and then he coughed. His chest rose again. Cadde was alive and breathing. Chance sank back, exhausted.
“Hot damn,” Kid said. “Best sound I ever heard.” He glanced back. “Where are we going?”
“Memorial Hermann. Call and get us a clearance to land on their pad.”
“I don’t have their number.”
“Are you brain-dead?” Chance snapped. “Call Barbara, Cadde’s secretary. She’ll do it for you.”
“It’s Sunday, idiot.”
“Call her cell. It’s an emergency.”
The fall had shaken Kid, but the kidder was coming back. On that derrick, though, he’d been dead serious. As serious as Chance had ever seen him, or probably ever would again.
He heard Kid talking to Barbara. “She’s calling,” he announced. “She’ll let us know as soon as she gets us clearance.”
“We don’t have a lot of time.” Chance watched blood ooze through the bandage, and he applied light pressure with his hand.
“I know,” Kid said. “If she doesn’t call back before we get there, I’m landing anywhere I can.”
Chance thought he probably would, and he saw no need to stop him. Cadde needed medical attention fast.
“Prepare for landing,” Kid called.
Chance glanced out the window, and all he could see were cars. “Where in the hell…?”
“Welcome to Memorial Hermann parking lot,” Kid said, climbing into the back with Chance and Cadde. “Let’s get him inside.”
“You landed in the parking lot?” Chance was still in shock.
“Hell, yeah.” Kid reached for the end of the stretcher, and Chance noticed how blue Kid’s right arm was. Chance looked down to see that his was black-and-blue, too.
“Let’s go,” Kid shouted, and Chance rose to his feet with his hands clamped around the stretcher one more time.
As they were unloading Cadde, two burly guys in white ran toward them. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” one yelled.
“We have an injured man who needs medical attention,” Kid yelled back.
“Why didn’t you use the helicopter pad?” the other one asked.
“Now that’s a long story,” Kid told him. “Too long to share here. Could we get a move on, please?
“What did y’all do to him?” the first guy asked, looking down at Cadde strapped in with ropes and leather.
“That’s another long story and—”
The other guy had been on a radio, obviously calling the emergency room. Two more people came running with a stretcher.
“Now we’re talking,” Kid muttered as they gave up their burden to professionals.
A police siren could be heard in the distance, getting closer and closer.
“You better move that thing.” Burly guy number one thumbed toward the chopper. “Evidently the police have been called.”
Kid jumped into the helicopter. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
“Call if they arrest you,” Chance said.
“Like hell!”
Chance heard the door slam shut. In seconds the helicopter lifted off the pavement, just as two police cars roared onto the scene. Chance ran after the stretcher, choosing to ignore the police—for now. But he knew they would be asking questions.
He filled out paperwork and put Jessie down as next of kin. “I don’t have his insurance information,” he told the nurse. “It’s probably in his wallet. I’ll get it to you as soon as I can.”
As he walked off, a young woman stepped in front of him. “Mr. Hardin?” Her hand rested on her stomach. She was very pregnant.
“Yes,” he answered.
“I’m Brad Coulson’s wife, Sherry. Brad’s been in surgery a long time, and no one has told us anything. I’m worried.” She pointed to two people in their forties sitting in the waiting area. “His parents are worried, too. Could you please get some information for us?”
“I’ll do my best,” he promised, and went back to the nurse at the desk. Brad was in surgery. That meant he was alive. Thank God!
“Ma’am,” he said to the nurse.
She looked up. “Did you forget something, Mr. Hardin?”
“No, actually, an employee of Shilah Oil, Brad Coulson, was brought in a little earlier. His family is here and they’d like to know how he’s doing.” And so would he.
She typed in something on her keyboard. “Mr. Coulson is still in surgery.” She frowned. “What’s his family doing in E.R.? They should be in the surgery waiting room.”
“No one told us where to go,” Sherry said.
Chance turned on all his charm. “Could you please get someone to show them where to go?”
“Yes, of course.” She smiled, and he felt a moment of anger. It wasn’t Shay’s smile.
He had to get her out of his mind.
He left the Coulson family in the hands of the nurse and went to find Cadde. Two double doors greeted him with the message Do Not Enter. Hospital Personnel Only. Without a thought, he pushed through them.
“Hey.” A nurse stopped him. “You’re not supposed to be in here. You have to go back to the waiting area.”
“I’m looking for my brother, Cadde Hardin,” he said as if she hadn’t spoken.
“The doctor is with him. Now please…”
“Is there a problem?” A man in blue scrubs
came out of a room. He scribbled something on a chart and looked up. “Ah, Mr. Hardin. I saw you on the news—very brave rescue.”
“News?” Chance hadn’t realized he’d spoken aloud until the doctor responded.
“Yes. The rescue is on the news, national even.”
Damn! Cadde was going to hate this. This kind of PR they didn’t need. He vaguely remembered a man with a camera on his shoulder. At the time they’d been busy trying to save his brother’s life and hadn’t given it another thought. He should have. “How’s Cadde?”
“He’s lost some blood, but not enough for us to give him any. He has a concussion and right now he’s undergoing tests, mainly an MRI of his head. I don’t want to miss anything. Barring any unforeseen surprises, he should be fine. He’s strong and healthy and should recover quickly. We’re keeping him overnight for observation. I’ve already called his wife.”
Oh crap! Cadde wasn’t going to like this, but Chance would deal with that later.
“Thanks, Doc,” he said. “Is he awake?”
“Not yet, but it shouldn’t be long.” The doctor glanced at his bruised arm. “You should let us look at that.”
Chance flexed his fingers. “I’m fine. It’s just bruised.”
“If you say so.” The doctor scribbled something else on the chart. “When your brother finishes the tests, they’ll take him up to a room. You can get the number from the nurse at the front desk.”
“Thanks, Doc.” They shook hands.
“Congratulations on a dangerous but successful rescue,” the doctor added. “You get me twelve feet off the ground and I become a wimpy little girl.”
“Sometimes you do what you have to.”
The doctor nodded and turned away. “Put some ice on that arm,” he called over his shoulder.
Chance flexed his arm and pain shot up his shoulder into his back. A reminder of the day.
He got the room number from the nurse and went upstairs. Sinking into a chair outside the door, he waited for Cadde. Nurses and other staff milled around him. People were coming and going. But he’d never felt more alone in his life.
Green eyes flashed through his mind. God, he needed her to hold him. He needed her to be here. But Shay was never going to be in his life again.
Not ever.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
SHAY WENT THROUGH the motions of the day for Darcy. Beth had wanted her daughter to have a foundation of faith, so Shay did her best to get her to church on Sundays. Darcy loved her Bible study class and was making new friends. Separating her and Petey for a while had been a good idea. It had given her daughter the incentive—and courage—to reach out when otherwise she wouldn’t have.
A lot of that had to do with Chance. He lifted Darcy’s low self-esteem just by being in her life and with words of encouragement. He taught her that fighting wasn’t the answer and that a smile and friendship went a long way.
How did Shay tell Darcy that Chance, who she considered a giant among men, wasn’t coming back? And it was all Shay’s fault.
If she had told Chance the truth from the start, all this pain could have been avoided. But then she would never have known what a wonderful man he was. She would never have fallen in love and experienced those all-consuming, mind-blowing passionate feelings. Never again would those emotions consume her—because she would never love anyone like she loved Chance.
The pain of hurting him was too raw for her to think much further.
The Home Health attendant was with Blanche, and Shay went to let her know she had returned. The woman left. Blanche had had a bath and looked refreshed—almost happy, staring at those damn rings.
“Do you need anything?”
“No,” Blanche replied, twisting her hand. “I have everything I need.”
Shay sighed and walked across the hall to her room to change. She slipped into denim shorts and paused. Chance had said he liked her in shorts. The warm memory floated away as she recalled what had happened next. Grabbing a sleeveless knit top, she yanked it over her head and went to find her daughter.
Darcy was sitting on the floor going through her workbook from Bible study.
“What do you want for lunch, sweetie?”
“Hot dogs,” Darcy shouted.
Hot dogs. Oh, God, was everything going to remind Shay of Chance?
“Think healthy,” she said. “How about leftover roast?”
Darcy frowned. “No. We had that yesterday.” Her eyes suddenly brightened. “Fish sticks and mac and cheese.”
“Darcy.”
“Mom.”
They had a standoff and Shay was the first to give in. “Oh, okay. Now go change your clothes.”
Darcy skipped to her room.
Shay set about preparing lunch. While the macaroni boiled, she made Blanche a protein smoothie and carried it to her. She hurried back to the kitchen, followed by Darcy.
“Is it ready, Mom?” she asked.
“Not yet.”
“I’m gonna watch cartoons then.”
“Okay.”
Shay was setting the food on the table when Darcy screamed, “Chance!”
Shay dropped a hot pad and ran into the living room to look outside. Had Chance come back?
“Not there. Here.” Darcy pointed to the TV.
Shay walked slowly to stand in front of the screen. Breaking News—Live Coverage flashed across the screen. The shot panned to a large oil rig, the derrick reaching toward the sky. Men on one side of the structure looked toward another one hanging upside down in thin air. No. No! That couldn’t be Chance.
The camera then zoomed in on a man at the top of the derrick. “We’re told this is Chance Hardin, and his brother Cisco is below,” the reporter was saying. “The man hanging is Cadde Hardin, their brother and CEO of Shilah Oil. Our source tells us that Mr. Hardin slipped after rescuing a roughneck who may have had a heart attack. That man has been taken to Memorial Hermann. There’s no word on his condition yet. If you look closely you’ll see a single rope is holding Mr. Hardin up there as his brothers try to save his life. This is dangerous, very dangerous, so if you have a weak stomach I suggest you not watch.”
Shay backed toward the kitchen and grabbed her purse. One thing kept running through her mind—that Chance was going to die believing she didn’t love him. No. She couldn’t let that happen. Suddenly it seemed so simple. Tell him the whole truth and let the broken pieces of their hearts fall where they may. Living a lie wasn’t acceptable anymore.
“Darcy, sweetie. I want you to do something for me.” Shay clicked off the TV. She didn’t want Darcy watching it.
“Aw, Mom,” Darcy complained.
“I have to go and check on Chance. I need you to stay here and help Blanche.”
“What?”
Shay had never asked this of her before, so Darcy was naturally confused. Nettie was at a flea market and wouldn’t be home until one. That was too long to wait.
“If Blanche calls for me, go see what she wants. If she wants water, get her a glass. She likes to suck on hard candy so if she asks for it, please get it. Tell her I’ll be back as soon as I can. If she’s rude to you, just walk out of the room. Understand?”
“Yes, Mommy, I can do it.”
Shay kissed her forehead. “I’m proud of you. Your lunch is on the table. Do not turn on the stove and do not go outside. Nettie will be here shortly.”
“I got it.” Darcy nodded and went into the kitchen to eat.
Shay put on a movie for her to watch and then removed the batteries from the remote control. She didn’t want her watching the rescue in case something went wrong. And then she was on her way to find Chance.
A LOUD STOMPING SOUND jerked Chance out of his somber thoughts. He looked up to see Kid running his way, his work boots pounding on the tiled floor. Chance jumped to his feet.
“Are the cops after you?”
“Hell, no.” Kid sank down beside him.
“You do know they will be. They couldn’t miss Shilah
Oil written across that chopper.”
“I’ll handle it then. How’s Cadde? Is he going to make it?”
Now Chance knew what the rush was all about. Serious Kid was back. “Relax,” he said. “Cadde has a concussion and some bruises, but the doctor said he’ll be fine. He’s undergoing tests right now to make sure they didn’t miss anything.”
“Thank God.” Kid sagged in the chair as if someone had let all the air out of him. “He looked like hell. I thought…”
“Cadde’s going to be fine,” Chance assured him.
Kid sat up straight, staring at Chance’s arm. “Damn. Those are some bad bruises.” He held out his own arm. “Mine’s not that bad.”
“I was trying to keep the weight off you and to keep us from tumbling down.”
There was silence for a while. They both knew they would have suffered a lot more to save their brother’s life.
Then Kid slapped him on the back. “Dad said we were tough. I guess he was right.”
“Yeah,” Chance murmured, and he felt no bitterness at the mention of their father. He had finally put it behind him. The ache in his chest was about something entirely different. It was about a green-eyed lady who had broken his heart.
Down the hall, elevator doors opened and two nurses pushed a gurney toward them, with a doctor following. They got to their feet when they saw the patient was Cadde. He was still pale and out for the count.
They shook hands with the doctor. “How is he?” Chance asked.
“Fine. The MRI didn’t show anything, so in a few days Mr. Hardin should be back to normal—a little sore, with a bruised head, but normal. We’re keeping him overnight for observation. He can go home in the morning.”
“Thanks, Doc,” Kid said.
“No problem.” The doctor walked away, but turned back. “Whoever strapped him into that contraption strapped him in to stay. There are welts across his chest and legs from the tight leather. He’s probably going to be pissed about that, but I figure you guys can handle him.”
“You bet.” Kid grinned. “We’ve handled Cadde pissed more times than we can count.”
The doctor strolled away, smiling.