by Liz Isaacson
She’d started small, with Christmas cards and birthday cards for her parents. Her mother had called when she’d realized Tripp was now in the picture with Ivory and Oliver.
So when Ivory had gotten pregnant, she’d called her mother and told her. Tripp had still not met the woman, nor her husband, and he and Ivory had been married for over three years now. She’d almost died last year giving birth to Isaac, and Tripp focused on the little boy on the floor in front of him.
An instant smile came to his face, because the thirteen-month-old was just so cute. He’d been babbling for months now, and he’d just started walking a couple of weeks ago.
Ivory had refused to let Tripp call her parents and tell them about the trouble she’d had in the hospital. Because of it, she couldn’t have more kids, and that made Isaac even more special to Tripp.
He reached down and picked up his son, snuggling him on his lap. The baby grinned up at him, and Tripp pressed a kiss to Isaac’s temple as Ivory said, “Okay, Mom, that’s fine.”
He looked at her, and their eyes met. She wasn’t crying…yet. But she definitely wore a look of panic and resignation, and he wondered what she’d just agreed to. Thankfully, the call ended a few minutes later, and Tripp put Isaac back on the floor with his toys and went into the kitchen.
Ivory sighed as she sat at the bar, and Tripp started massaging her shoulders. “What is it?”
“They want us to come for Thanksgiving,” she said. “I couldn’t get out of it. They want to see Isaac. They want to meet you.”
“Hey, it’s okay,” he said. “This is what you wanted, right? Reconciliation? You want Isaac to have two sets of grandparents.” They’d talked about this for hours. Tripp wanted whatever made Ivory the happiest. And she’d come out of the hospital last year, ready to make changes. She didn’t want to leave the world and have bad feelings between her and anyone.
She was the strongest woman he’d ever met, and she’d found a way to let go of her hurt and anger for Daniel, her first husband. Tripp had marveled in the change in her since then, and she carried a new light in her face now that he’d never seen before.
“Yeah, I know.” She rolled her neck, and Tripp placed a kiss on her shoulder.
“So we’ll go to Tennessee for Thanksgiving. We can handle it.”
“They haven’t seen Oliver since he was a baby,” she whispered. “He’s almost twelve, Tripp.”
“He sure is.” And that eleven-year-old was one of Tripp’s absolute favorite people. Today, he was at a birthday party for a friend, and school started—Oliver’s last year in elementary school—next week. “It’s going to be okay,” he said.
Ivory turned toward him, pure anxiety on her face. Tears dripped down her face, and she swiped at them. “What if it’s not? What if it’s just as terrible as it always has been?”
“Then we leave,” he said, taking her into his arms. She cried against his chest, and Tripp wished with the power of ten suns that he could remove this pain from her life. “We have each other, baby. And Oliver and Isaac, and all of my brothers. My parents. We have the love and support we need.”
Ivory nodded against his body, and he released her.
“I know you want to do this, Ivory, and I’m fine with it. But it doesn’t seem to be making you happy.”
She sniffed and nodded, reaching for a paper towel. “I’m just nervous. Once we go, and we see how it’ll be, then I don’t know. Then I’ll know if it’s something I should keep trying to do, or something I have to let go of.”
Tripp let a few seconds go by. “You can’t control them.”
“No, I know.”
Their eyes met, and Tripp smiled softly at her. “You’re amazing,” he whispered. “I love you.”
Her eyes watered again, and her smile looked a little crooked and a little pained. “I love you too, Tripp.” She leaned toward him, and he leaned toward her until their foreheads rested together.
His phone chimed, and he straightened. “That’s probably Daddy.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah, he’s on his way back from getting those new horses.” Tripp shook his head. “He says eleven more won’t even make a difference, and I told him I’d be there to help with unloading and all of that. I guess he got a bunch of equipment too.”
He picked up his phone, and sure enough, the text was from Daddy. “He’s about an hour out.” He pocketed his phone and faced his wife. “So let me heat up some of that soup you like, and then I’ll head over there. Okay?”
She gave him a tired smile. “Okay.”
“You feeling okay?” He went into the kitchen and opened the fridge while Ivory walked into the living room. Though her brush with death was over a year old, she was still tired sometimes, and Tripp thought she hadn’t ever quite been the same.
“Yeah,” she said. “Just talking to my mom drains me.” She curled into the corner of the couch and smiled at Isaac. She cooed and talked to him while Tripp heated her soup, and she looked up at him with all the heat of his wife when he handed her the soup.
“You’re okay to get Ollie from his party?” Tripp asked.
“Yep, two o’clock,” she said.
“I’ll be back later,” Tripp said. “I’m not sure when, since you know how Daddy is. He said he got a few things, and it could be truckloads.” Tripp chuckled, his love for his father ironclad.
“Good luck,” Ivory said, and Tripp left. He loved their house on the east side of Three Rivers, even if it was isolated from the rest of the family. He thought Ivory needed that, and most of the time, he did too.
His bond with Liam was as strong as ever, and since he only worked part-time, he took Oliver to the ranch several times a week. He never felt left out, and he thought of Skyler’s story from Sunday night’s dinner.
He’d said he felt like the black sheep in the family, and Tripp couldn’t comprehend that. He’d always belonged to the family, and they belonged to him, Skyler included.
His phone rang again, and Daddy’s name came up on the screen in Tripp’s truck, as his phone had connected to the sound system via Bluetooth. He sighed as he reached out and tapped the green phone icon on the screen. “Hey, Daddy.”
Beeping came through the line, and Tripp’s pulse accelerated.
“Daddy?”
“Sir,” someone said. A woman. “Are you okay? Our system has indicated that your airbag has deployed.”
Horror gripped Tripp’s heart and lungs. His fingers tightened on the steering wheel. “Daddy?”
A groan came through the line, and Tripp pressed the accelerator all the way to the floor. “Where are you?”
“Sir, I’m dispatching emergency vehicles to your location,” the woman said in a tinny voice that crackled over the line.
Tripp realized that he was hearing the On-Star operator talk to his father. His father, who couldn’t respond. His father, who must have somehow dialed Tripp during the accident.
Airbag deployed.
Groaning.
“What’s his location?” he yelled into the screen, actually leaning toward it like that would help. “This is his son, and he called me. Where is he?”
The woman didn’t answer, and Tripp swung wildly onto the highway that led south out of town. He wanted to stay on the line with Daddy to make sure he knew he wasn’t alone. But he needed to call Momma and Rhett. Liam, and Jeremiah, and Skyler, and Wyatt, and Micah. All of them. Everyone.
Everyone needed to start praying. Now.
So with difficulty and indecision still raging through him, he said, “Daddy, hang on, okay? I’m on my way to you. I’m going to hang up now and call everyone. Okay, Daddy?” He waited, but his father didn’t answer at all. Not even a groan. The steady beeping coming through the line sounded like a warning from the car to buckle a seatbelt, and Tripp would be haunted by that sound for the rest of his life.
“Hang on, Daddy,” he said again, pulling into the opposite lane to pass a slower-moving truck. “I love you. Hang on.”
<
br /> Then he hung up, immediately barking at the truck to “Call Rhett.” His oldest brother would know what to do. He just had to know what to do. Maybe he could even make Tripp’s truck go faster.
“Calling Rhett,” the cool female voice said, and Tripp pounded one hand against the steering wheel while he waited for the call to connect. “Please, God,” he said, fighting with everything he had against the rising panic. “Don’t take him yet. Please don’t take him yet.”
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Skyler’s phone rang when he was only halfway to Amarillo. Rhett’s name came up on the display, and the ring nearly deafened him as it came through the speakers and his device.
He hurried to tap on the button on the display and said, “Hey, Rhett.”
“Where are you right now?” Rhett sounded winded, like he was running.
Skyler’s first thought landed on Whitney. She was due any day now, and maybe she’d gone into labor again. He knew she did not want to have another baby at home, and he couldn’t believe he’d forgotten about that and left town.
“Uh, I’m on my way to talk to Mal in Amarillo.”
“Daddy’s been in an accident,” Rhett said. “Tripp was going to help him with some horse stuff, and he’s just arrived at the scene. He’s texting and calling, and oh, he’s calling now. I have to go.”
“Rhett—” Skyler tried, but his brother was gone.
Skyler eased up on the gas pedal, his mind racing. He pulled over to the side of the road, Rhett’s words settling in his ears. When he came to a complete stop, he closed his eyes and bowed his head. “Dear Lord,” he said. “I don’t know what’s going on, but bless Rhett and Tripp with a calm heart.” He took a breath, his chest tightening. “Bless my dad, whatever’s happened, that he’ll be all right.”
He didn’t know what to add to the prayer, and his phone blared again.
“Rhett,” he said once he’d answered. “What’s happening?”
“Tripp is there with Daddy. He’s riding in the ambulance with him back to Three Rivers. I’m calling everyone to ask them to pray, and to meet us at the hospital.”
Skyler checked his mirrors and the oncoming traffic. None. “I’m on my way. What happened?”
“Near as Tripp can tell, someone crossed the middle line and hit Daddy’s truck.” Rhett’s voice broke, and that nearly undid all of Skyler’s carefully laced emotions. Neither of them said anything, and every muscle in Skyler’s face felt so tight, so tight.
“He took some pictures,” Rhett said. “It’s not good. Daddy is not awake.”
“Okay,” Skyler said, because what else was there? “What can I do to help?”
“Tripp left his truck on the side of the road so he could ride with Daddy,” Rhett said. “Someone will have to go get it later.”
“Okay,” Skyler said. “I’ll call Mal, and maybe we can do that.” But if the family was gathering at the hospital, that was where Skyler wanted to be.
“I know,” Rhett said, but it wasn’t to Skyler. “Evvy, get him. We have to go. Sky, I’ll see you at the hospital.”
“Okay, bye,” Skyler said. “Rhett—” But his brother was gone. “I love you,” Skyler said anyway. He gripped the wheel, wishing he wasn’t at least thirty minutes away. He’d be last to the hospital. Last again.
“It’s not a race,” he told himself. And it wouldn’t do any good if he got in an accident himself. “Please bless those working with my father.” He continued to pray the whole way back to Three Rivers. When he passed Marcy’s airplane hangar on the west side of town, he tapped to call Mal.
Her phone rang and rang, and Skyler hated with everything inside him that she didn’t pick up. Her voice filled the cab when she said, “This is Mal Walker. Leave me a message, and I’ll get back to you.”
Mal Walker.
Skyler pulled to a stop sign while he waited for the beep. “Mal,” he said, making the turn. “It’s Skyler. My father’s been in a bad accident. I was on my way to see you in Amarillo when I found out, and I turned back. Will you…?” He swallowed, trying to mask the emotions. But he didn’t want to. He didn’t want to cage his feelings, and he didn’t want to hide them from his wife.
“I need you,” he said, his voice full of agony. “Will you please come to the hospital in Three Rivers? We all need you.”
With that, he hung up and continued along his way. Only minutes later, he pulled into the parking lot of the emergency room and got out of the truck. A strange sense of calmness came over him as he strode in, wondering where to go.
He shouldn’t have wondered. The Walkers weren’t a small—or quiet—group, and Wyatt said, “Sky,” in a booming voice the moment he walked in. He detoured to his left, grabbing onto Wyatt like he was the only thing keeping him on the ground in that moment.
Because he was.
Everyone was crying. Positively everyone, and Skyler panicked. “I’m too late, aren’t I?” He scanned the crowd, trying to find his mother. “Where’s Momma?”
But Skyler couldn’t get to his mother, who was flanked by Jeremiah and Rhett. They each held one of her hands, and Skyler let his own tears flow down his face.
“You’re not too late,” Wyatt said. “They brought him in about twenty minutes ago. Tripp is still back there with him. The nurse has come out once to say that he’s alive, and they’re working on him.”
“Doing what?” Skyler asked.
“We don’t know.” Wyatt turned back to the crowd, and Skyler went through it, hugging every person, one by one. Momma stood to receive his hug, and Skyler pressed his eyes closed as he clung to her.
“He’ll be okay,” Skyler said. “He will, Momma.”
“Keep praying,” she whispered, and she stepped back and wiped her eyes with a tissue.
“Tripp’s coming,” Liam said, and a whole new uproar started. Skyler edged to the side, well aware of how off-kilter he felt. He needed Mal there. He wanted to hold her hand and receive her steady assurance, the way Evelyn held Rhett’s, and Marcy clung to Wyatt.
He knew all the in-laws loved his parents as much as the sons did, and Mal should be there. She’ll come, he told himself, even pulling out his phone to check it real quick though Tripp had just arrived in their corner of the waiting room.
Really, they took up at least half of it, but no one seemed to care.
“He broke his back,” Tripp said, wiping his face. “He never woke up on the drive back. They sedated him into a medically-induced coma, and they’re taking him into emergency surgery.” His whole face crumpled, and Momma stepped over to him to comfort him.
Fear like Skyler had never known entered his system. A man could drown in fear like this. It could take over his whole life, block out all that was good, and only leave room for worry and despair.
Skyler had been in such a place before, but this was blacker. Bleaker. He could not imagine a world where his father didn’t exist to tell him that he hadn’t messed up too badly. That he loved him, no matter what.
And with that thought came a seedling of faith. A small ray of sunshine that chased away the darkness swirling through his entire soul. Fear was the opposite of faith, and Skyler didn’t want to live in the darkness.
He wanted to live in the light. He wanted to believe that God would hear his prayers and answer them. He trusted that God was there, and he knew that whatever happened, God was in charge of it all.
That same calmness came over him again, and when Micah came to stand next to him, Skyler put his arm around his brother’s shoulders. They didn’t say anything, because they didn’t need to.
“They said it’ll be hours,” Tripp said, reaching for his wife’s hand. He pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Some of us should go home.”
“I’m staying,” Momma said, making her way back to her seat. No one else moved. Skyler didn’t want to leave; he had nowhere to go.
So he sat down with a sigh, feeling weary all the way to the bone. His wife hadn’t come home. She hadn’t called. His father
was in emergency surgery for a broken back. Life sure could kick him around sometimes.
“Sky,” Micah said sometime later.
“Hmm?” He looked up from his phone, where he’d been playing a game.
Micah nodded toward the doors, and Skyler followed his gaze. Mal stood there, clutching her purse.
Skyler shot to his feet. Their eyes met across the space. Skyler didn’t care who was watching, and he didn’t care what they had to work out.
She’d come.
“Mal,” he breathed, already moving toward her. He jogged several steps, sweeping her into his arms. “You’re here.” He breathed in the soft, floral scent of her neck, grateful beyond description.
“How is he?” she asked as he set her on her feet.
“He’s in surgery,” Skyler said. “He was in a bad accident with the horse trailer attached to his truck. The whole thing jack-knifed.” After they’d all settled down, Tripp had shown them pictures, and there had only been six inches between the back of Daddy’s seat in the truck and the steering wheel. The front half of it had completely collapsed, and their father was very lucky to even be alive. “He broke his back.”
“Sky, I’m so sorry.” Mal’s tears made his start anew, and he hugged her again as they cried.
“You came,” he said. “Thank you for coming. I’m so sorry for everything.”
“You don’t have anything to be sorry for,” she whispered.
Skyler became aware of others getting near, and they probably wanted to welcome Mal to their family vigil.
“I do,” he said quickly. “But we can talk later. I love you. I love you, and I need you, and I don’t want you to leave without me again.”
That only made Mal cry harder, hold to him tighter. Skyler didn’t mind, and everything between him and Mal washed away with their tears. When he released her, Marcy was there, and she hugged Mal. Then Wyatt.
When all was said and done, Mal sat next to Skyler in the row, with Warren in her arms. “I love this baby,” she said softly.
“Yeah?” Skyler asked. “You think you want to have one of your own?”
Mal looked at him, and a dozen more apologies were said. “I’m sorry, Skyler,” she said. “For telling my sister. I’ve really been praying that it will all work out for us.”