Saving Tess

by J. Lynn Bailey

  We’re back on Waddington, where my brother and Tripp died.

  It’s daytime though. The yellow mustard plants have filled the empty void of the accident scene eight years ago. The sun is bright, and the sky is blue.

  Two wooden crosses are attached to the post of the barbed-wire fence.

  “I had a choice, Case. I had a choice, and I chose wrong. Sometimes, we get second chances in life, and sometimes, we don’t.” Conroy walks over to me and takes my shoulder. “You need to decide.”

  And with that, he pushes me, and I fall. I continue to fall until my body crashes hard, and it fills with me with the most unbelievable pain I’ve ever experienced.

  When I look up, the EMTs gasp, staring down at me.

  “Monroe! We have a heartbeat!” one says to the other. “Welcome back, Casey.” The EMT breathes hard. “We’re doing all we can, Casey. Just stay with us this time, okay?”

  But I can’t seem to keep my eyes open. I try to nod to the EMT, but I can’t.

  My eyes slowly close again.

  I hear a machine above me beep, followed by a long-drawn-out tone.

  “Fuck!” I barely hear the EMT shout. “Give me the paddles again, Monroe! Quick! We lost him again.”

  I open my eyes this time, but I’m in the barn just off the front pasture. Tess is lying next to me under a blanket while a fury of rain pours down.

  It’s a memory.

  Her head was on my chest, and I said, “I think I’ve died and gone to heaven.”

  Tess laughed and kissed my lips. We’d just made love—or whatever it was two teenagers were capable of. Maybe it was sweltering heat brought in by a storm but when the rain poured and the wind pushed, the heat did too.

  “What do we do now?”

  “Continue,” I said, more of a joke.

  “No, I mean, are we a couple now?”

  I shrugged. I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t want to tie her down before she left for college. I didn’t want to be the one responsible for holding her to our small town when she had so much talent for everything.

  With the way I’d been riding lately, I’d be traveling with the circuit. The PBR had contacted me, and I was ready to sign on the dotted line. I just needed another year until I was eighteen.

  I couldn’t ask Tess to wait for me. Just wouldn’t be fair. She deserved to live her life, and if it meant that I had to break her heart for her to be free, I’d do it.

  So, instead of giving her the response I felt in my bones, I said, “Let’s not put labels on it. Let’s just do our thing, Tess. We’re good at that, right, you and me?”

  It was quiet for a minute, and then she said, “Yeah, okay.”

  But the truth was, I was absolutely in love with Tess Morgan. But I wasn’t going to be responsible for holding her down when I knew my job was going to take me all over the world.

  Now, I’m back in my body at age twenty-seven, standing in the barn, wondering about timing and death and if I made the right decisions in life.

  The rain pours down on the roof.

  Did I make the right choices?

  Am I being given a second chance to make things right?

  I’m moving once more. Now, I’m at a birthday party, only as a spectator, not part of the scene. I see me standing with my brothers, my parents. Kids are running around, and parents are standing and talking. Across the way, I see the death stare that Tess gives the other me as she makes her way to the birthday cake, and I give it right back.

  We hate each other?

  I walk over to the cake, and it reads Happy 8th birthday, Austin.

  I look up and see a broken little boy—our little boy—watching his parents struggle to like each other, tolerate each other.

  The other me walks over to Tess, and I move close to listen.

  I notice that neither of them are wearing wedding rings.

  Did we just fall apart?

  “While you were out working, I managed to throw our son’s birthday party. Thanks for the help.” Tess glares at the other me.

  “You know it’s a busy time of year for us, Tess.”

  She shakes her head. “That’s funny because your parents seemed to step up and help, but you couldn’t?” She shakes her head. “No. No, you’re just resentful with me because you didn’t get to live your dream of riding bulls. It was a decision we both made that night, remember? We’d decided to have sex. We decided to have the baby. We decided to keep the baby. Remember?”

  “So, now, I’m a bad dad?”

  “No, that’s not what I’m saying at all,” she says in a hushed tone. “You are a good dad—when you can manage to show up.” Tess places her hands on her hips. Bites her lip. Glares at the other me.

  “Oh, says the woman who’s bitter because she didn’t get to go to college and do her own thing. And now, we are both raising a child instead.”

  “I’m not bitter.”

  “Oh, bullshit, Tess. Bullshit.”

  Tess holds out her finger and points at the other me. “Listen, Casey, I will always be a mother first. Always. As for us, we ended two years ago when you just stopped showing up for life.”

  The birthday scene fades … and I’m falling again.

  “Clear!” the same EMT shouts. “Come on, Casey!”

  I see the worry on the EMT’s face, but I’m not the Casey lying there right now. I’m another spectator in the ambulance.

  I need to get back in my own body. But how?

  The other me on the gurney jolts. The machine above the other me starts to beep consistently again.

  The ambulance brakes, and the back doors fly open. I jump out of the way, so they can do what they do.

  There’s a lot of blood.

  The EMT who was working on me is giving facts to the team that’s just come out from the hospital doors.

  “He’s coded three times. I can’t get his vitals to stabilize.”

  That’s when Conroy appears next to me again. “You need to decide,” he says.

  “I want to live, Conroy.”

  “That’s not what I mean, Case. I know you want to live.” He pats my back as they wheel the other me, the badly broken me, into the hospital. “I mean, what kind of life do you want to lead? One with love and integrity and honesty? Or one full of ego-driven pride that keeps putting you on that bull for another round? Your destiny is up to you.”

  With that, Conroy disappears again, and I’m left with myself.

  Another ambulance comes in, and another team comes out of the sliding doors of the hospital. They swing open the doors of the ambulance, and it’s Cash’s body that comes out.

  “Barely stable,” one EMT who jumps out of the ambulance says.

  I bend over and try to catch my breath.

  44

  Tess

  “Casey and Cash Atwood. They were brought in by ambulance,” Colt says to the woman sitting behind the desk.

  Anna and I walk over to the seating area with Laurel and Daryl. I put my arms around Laurel, not sure what to do or say, my body feeling as though it weighs millions of pounds.

  Colt’s jet got us to Las Vegas in no time at all.

  I see Colt’s head drop, and without another thought, I walk to the counter and look him in his eyes.

  “What did she say?”

  “They’re doing everything they can.”

  I nod, my body numb, my fingers tingling. All I want is Casey back. My chest fills with mud so much so that I can barely breathe.

  I look back at the woman behind the desk. “Please, miss, I need to go back and see him.”

  She frowns, trying to soften the blow I know she’s about to deliver. “I’m sorry, ma’am. I can’t let you go back there. We will let you know when something changes.”

  She doesn’t say when he stabilizes or when he’s ready. She gives me nothing promising life.

  The mud that’s in my chest spreads to my arms, my hands, my legs.

  “Come on.” Colt takes me by the shoulders. “Let’s g
o sit down, Tess, okay?”

  Fear freely moves in and out of my heart and my head, pushing my mind to tell me things that aren’t true. Playing pictures in my head of what things look like back there.

  He’s going to die alone on a gurney in the emergency room.

  He’s going to die, and he’ll never know how much I love him.

  I look over at Daryl and Laurel. They’ve been here before. Though it was in a field and their son was already gone.

  Now, they have two sons in the emergency room, fighting for their lives.

  It comes to my mind that a mother’s love never fades. No matter how old a child gets, what choices the child makes, whether you’ve raised the child or not, whether you’re biologically related to the child or not, a mother’s love is one of the purest phenomena in the world.

  I think back to my mothers, the one who raised me and the one who gave me life.

  My biological mother loved me like I love Austin. She did the best she could with the skills that she had.

  The mother who raised me put the life back into me. She took the fear away that I’d had as a child—the fear of abandonment, of loss—and showed me love. And by God’s grace, she gave me a brother that we got to love until he died.

  But isn’t that the price we pay for love when someone passes away? Grief and heartache?

  It seems like hours have passed before two men in white coats come out to the waiting room, my heart dying inside the seconds it takes the men to reach us.

  “Atwoods?” one man says.

  The Atwood men stand. Exchange handshakes with the men in coats.

  “I’m Dr. Levitt, and this is Dr. Sullivan. Please, come with us.”

  I grab Anna’s hand and Laurel’s hand as we follow Dr. Levitt and Dr. Sullivan down the sterile, stark white hallway, behind a locked door, and into a conference room.

  “Please, have a seat,” Dr. Sullivan says.

  We sit in big, luxury leather chairs, ones I assume where teams of doctors design treatment plans and create big ideas.

  “First of all, both men will be fine.”

  Laurel bursts into tears, and Daryl puts his arms around her.

  I choke back a sob and keep it there alongside the lump of gratitude that clings to my insides.

  “We were able to finally stop the bleeding for Casey, and while the horn did not hit any internal organs, he did lose a lot of blood. We’re hoping that the blood loss to the brain did not cause brain damage. Now that he’s stable, we will get him in for a CT scan as soon as possible. He has three broken ribs and a broken arm. As for Cash, he, too, lost a lot of blood but not nearly as much as his brother. And the horn did hit the spleen, and the damage was too severe to save it, so we had to remove it.”

  “Transplant?” Calder asks.

  “No. Spleens can be removed, and people live long, happy lives,” Dr. Levitt says. “Additionally, he took a hit to the head, which caused a mild contusion on his brain. We do feel the contusion needs surgery, and we will closely monitor him for the next few days, just to be sure.”

  “When can we see them?” I ask, surprised by my own words.

  “Soon,” Dr. Sullivan says.

  Dr. Levitt asks, “Do you have any questions?”

  “What is the recovery time for their injuries?” Colt asks.

  Dr. Levitt and Dr. Sullivan exchange glances.

  “We highly encourage these young men to find a different line of work. While these injuries are severe, they aren’t life-threatening anymore, and it is only a matter of time before this happens again. I would add, however, that they should probably both be well and healed within six months,” Dr. Levitt says.

  Colt and Calder exchange glances, knowing they’ll have a battle on their hands.

  The doctors stand, as do Colt, Calder, and Daryl.

  “Thank you, Dr. Sullivan and Dr. Levitt, for saving our boys,” Daryl says.

  They exchange handshakes.

  Dr. Levitt looks at his watch. “In a few hours, you can come back and see both of them. In the meantime, please, go get something to eat.”

  “Is there a Tess Morgan?” a woman wearing scrubs asks.

  I’m sitting in the waiting room, staring at the white wall ahead of me, lost in thought.

  The mud is still heavy in my bones.

  “That’s me.”

  “Casey is asking for you.”

  I look back to Laurel.

  “Go, honey,” she whispers and kisses me on the cheek. “You two need each other right now.”

  I stare back at Laurel as tears come to my eyes. “Are you sure?”

  “There are a lot of things I’m unsure of in life these days, Tess, but this isn’t one of them.” Laurel pats me on the back as I stand.

  Anna grabs my hand and kisses it.

  Nodding, I follow the woman in scrubs behind the locked door and down a long hallway.

  She turns left into a room. My heart begins to pound, and the mud spreads once again, making it hard for me to breathe. I stop just before the room. Look up to the ceiling and hold back the tears.

  They’re tears of gratitude, but I’m not sure he’ll understand that when I walk in there.

  I try my best to disguise them and walk around the corner to see the man I love.

  Machines beep.

  “Hey,” he says softly and reaches for me.

  I walk to him faster than I’ve ever walked to anyone, taking his hand in mine, kissing his palm. But the tears fall.

  “Hey.” He reaches up and lightly pushes the fallen strands of hair from my face, but it’s no use; they still continue to fall around my face. “I’m okay. See?” He’s weak.

  I study his face. A stitched-up laceration across his forehead has created two black eyes. His face is somewhat swollen.

  Tears keep falling. “I’m so sorry, Casey. I’m so sorry for being so childish with you and for taking us—you—for granted.” My words are rushed and messy and full of worry.

  Still unsure of where to sit or move or adjust, I stay still, knowing underneath the hospital gown is where he was ripped open from one side to the other.

  As he carefully pulls me, I see a single tear streaming from his eye.

  “I thought—” He tries to clear the hoarseness from his tone, winces, stops for a moment, and allows the pain to pass. “I thought I was going to lose you forever. I thought I’d never be able to tell you exactly how I feel about you. How much time I’ve spent loving you.” He’s quiet for a moment. “Can … can I tell you a weird-ass story?” he asks.

  “Of course.”

  And Casey begins to tell me the story what our lives would have looked like had we not given Austin to a mom and dad far more capable of raising a child than we were at that age.

  He tells me about ambulance rides and trips to Dillon Creek. Seeing me cry on the living room floor of Colt and Anna’s after he got hurt. Seeing us in the barn after we made love. How he told me we’d be better just doing our thing than boyfriend and girlfriend—words that nearly ripped out my heart.

  “Today, I know we made the right decision for Austin.”

  I think about my adoption and Austin’s adoption and how things work out the way they’re supposed to—even if they’re painful. And how life can be absolutely beautiful and heartbreaking, all at the same time.

  “Yeah, me too.” And for the first time in my life, I believe it.

  “I’m sorry. I’m sorry I went and saw him without—”

  “No, no, no. I’m sorry. You had to do what you had to do for you. I wasn’t ready. I put the blame on you.” I turn my head to look at him. “Casey Atwood, I hope you can forgive me one day.”

  “Baby,” he says, his voice hoarse, “forgiveness isn’t needed in this situation. However, I would love to live the rest of my days with you, if you’ll have me?”

  Quiet nerves grow in my stomach.

  I hear the words of Dr. Levitt and Dr. Sullivan. “We highly encourage these young men to find a different line of
work. While these injuries are severe, they aren’t life-threatening anymore, and it is only a matter of time before this happens again.”

  But I realize now that I will go through fire and pain and fear and nerves—life—to be with Casey if it means he gets to do what he loves. So, the small ball of nerves that moves and expands in my stomach sits quietly and waits for the next ride.

  “I was hoping you’d ask.” I put my mouth to his and kiss him in the softest way possible.

  He groans in my mouth. “Oh, Ms. Morgan, the things you do to me.”

  I pull away, not wanting to go any further on this hospital bed, and giggle.

  “When I leave this place,” he whispers in my ear, “you’d better believe that we aren’t leaving the house for at least a week because I’m going to do things to your body that would make Hugh Hefner blink twice from the grave.”

  I hold my breath, and an ache starts between my legs. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” I whisper.

  “I’m not in the business of unkept promises.”

  Smiling against his chest, I look up at him, but he’s fallen fast asleep.

  45

  Casey

  It’s been four weeks, and I’m getting around good.

  I always wondered why Colt bought that damn private plane, but I was grateful. Beats a fourteen-hour car ride or flying commercial any day.

  I kept my promise to Tess and made love to her over and over and over. In the living room of her place. In the shower. In her bed, we made love slowly. Against the bedroom door. Out in the barn at my parents’ place.

  She comes out in just a towel and kisses me before she takes her coffee from the counter.

  “I want to show you something today.”

  She leans against the counter, taking a sip of coffee. “Where?”

  “Jagger Hill.” I walk to her and bend down to kiss her neck low and slow.

  She softly whimpers in my ear as I remove her towel to expose the beautiful body God gave her.

  I undo my belt buckle, my jeans, and marvel at her naked body standing in front of me.