“Angel, no! No, sweetheart, you stay with me,” the frantic voice urged. “Help is on the way. Godammit, stay awake.” Something was patting her cheek. She shook her head. It hurt. She wanted to rest, if she could just rest. Through a blurred haze of exhaustion and pain, she saw Dalton’s face leaning down, cradling her head in his lap. She tried to smile. “Dalton.”
“Ssshh, save your strength.” She winced as he applied pressure to the throbbing pain in her side.
“It was Tony. My ex-husband…Tony.” She grabbed his wrist, fighting to stay awake. She needed to tell him. She didn’t want him to find out from someone else if she didn’t make it. “There’s something I need to tell you,” she forced through the pain. Every breath grew more difficult, draining her energy.
“You can tell me later, Angel.” He stroked her cheek.
She shook her head. “No, if I—Dalton, it’s Emilee. She’s yours.” Tears leaked from her eyes, stinging her wounds. “That night--”
She saw the painful truth crumple his face. The sound of sirens grew close. “I’m so…sorry.” She just needed to rest, just for a moment.
“Don’t you leave me, Angel. Not now. Not when we’ve just found each other again. I know, baby. I know Emilee is mine. Stay with me. Come on, stay, Angel.”
She felt the warmth of a bright light, but was jostled from it by someone shaking her shoulder.
“Stay with me,” she heard the voice say.
“I see Jed,” she whispered, and the world went black.
Chapter Ten
Dalton stared at the bottle. He hadn’t opened it. He was scared to, afraid if he did, he wouldn’t be able to stop. He’d already gotten more than a couple of odd looks from patrons seated in the dive bar not more than a block from the hospital. Rancid stale smoke and booze permeated the wood and ancient ceiling above. But it was dark, quiet, and no one bothered him. And that’s exactly what he needed, except for maybe this bottle of Jack Daniels. He picked up the empty glass, still sparkling clean from the dishwasher.
“Hey, mind if I join you?”
He looked up and met Rein’s curious gaze. Curious for the same reason everyone else in the place was curious. Was he going to crack that bottle and pour himself a drink? He’d been staring at the damn thing for nearly an hour debating the same thing.
“Suit yourself; bartender’s a pretty nice guy,” Dalton replied. He held the glass in his hand, turning it slowly, watching the dim light glint off its surface. “You know, I’ve been sitting here”--he glanced at his brother--“thinking about drinking this. How good it would taste, how it’d make the pain go away. Then I thought, maybe if I made a pact with God, maybe if I swore off drinking for good, maybe he’d let her live.”
Rein ordered himself a soda, stopped the waitress, and made it two. He took off his hat and laid it in the seat beside him. “There’s no news yet. She’s still in surgery. How are you holding up?”
He shrugged. “I couldn’t stand that waiting room any longer.” His brain had gone on autopilot when he’d heard that she needed emergency surgery to repair her kidney. He couldn’t think about it, didn’t want to think about the possibility of losing her. He shook his head, not allowing his thoughts to travel that road. “Did Michael and Rebecca make it?”
Rein nodded. “Just after you left. Wyatt stayed back with Aimee and the ranch.”
“And Emilee?”
“With her grandparents.”
It was awkward, him knowing that he was her father and her not aware of it. The kid still thought her dad was buried in Arlington Cemetery.
“She’s okay, Dalton. She’s a tough little kid.” Rein held his gaze.
“So, Aimee told you about the picture?”
Rein sighed. “Yeah, did you find out anything?”
Dalton’s mouth curled. “Yeah, I’m her dad.”
Rein leaned back in his seat. “That must have come as quite a shock.”
Dalton picked up the bottle and studied the smallest wording on the label. “You’ve no idea.”
“And Emilee doesn’t know?”
Dalton shook his head. “I just hope that when she gets through this, Angelique is going to want to tell her the truth.” He swallowed the fresh lump of pain that surfaced unexpectedly.
“Hey.” Rein leaned his elbows on the table. “It’s going to be okay. Everything is going to work out, you’ll see.”
Dalton rubbed his eyelids. His eyes were weary, bloodshot probably from the dam that had broken finally inside him. He had watched--his shirt covered in her blood--as they took her from him on the gurney, wheeling her into a fray of physicians barking out orders. He’d searched the halls for a restroom and, finding one in a secluded hall, went in, locked the door, and wept. Years of anger and bitterness toward his mom, regret for not appreciating Jed more, for not being there when Emilee was born, for not saving Angelique from the pain, she’d endured being married to that bastard.
“I understand that they caught the piece of shit who did this. Hiding out in a dumpster a couple of blocks away. Guess they followed a trail of blood.”
Dalton found some satisfaction in that. “She wouldn’t have gone down without a fight. Not my Angel.” He looked at Rein. “He better pray they put him away for good, because I’ll be waiting for him next time.”
Rein finished one soda and offered a last chance to Dalton for the other. “I doubt you’ll have to worry about a next time. Attempted murder, along with premeditation, puts him in a new wing at the hotel.”
Dalton released a heavy sigh. He pushed the unopened whiskey bottle aside. “You know, it’s the oddest damn thing. I came in here desperate for a drink, but the truth is I don’t have the stomach for it. I don’t want it, don’t need it. I don’t know, maybe the desire will come back, maybe it won’t. All I know is that I want to be able to tell her I don’t need it like I did. She and Emilee, that’s what I want. That’s all I need.”
Rein nodded. “And you’ll get the chance to tell her, Dalton. I know you will.” An old-fashioned ringtone sounded in Rein’s shirt pocket.
Dalton studied his brother’s face as he listened to the caller.
“Okay, we’ll be right over. I love you too, baby.” Rein tucked his phone away. “She’s on her way up to ICU.” He fished in his pocket and dropped a five on the table.
Dalton was waiting at the door before Rein could put his hat back on.
What was but a few moments seemed like an eternity as Dalton waited for Michael, Rebecca, and Emilee to spend a moment or two with Angelique. She was out still from the anesthesia, but they’d allowed her family to see her. Emilee and her grandmother stood beside the bed as Michael recited a prayer over his niece’s battered body.
Rebecca touched Dalton’s arm as they left the room. “Talk to her, let her know you’re here. It will help.”
He glanced at Emilee and she ran to him, wrapping her arms around his waist, holding on with a fierce grip. He swallowed hard and bent down to look at her. “We must be brave, Em. She needs our strength to get better.”
Emilee nodded, then leaned forward and hugged his neck. “I love you, Dalton.”
Daltons raised his eyes and met Rebecca’s shimmering gaze. He cleared his throat. “I love you too, Em. We’re going to get through this, all of us are. You go with your grandma now. I want to go see your mom.”
She stepped out of his embrace and turned quickly back. “Be sure to tell her that you love her, too.”
Dalton’s eyes watered. “I will, Em.” He nodded.
Swiping his hand across his eyes, he watched the pair walk down the hall. A nurse leaving the room nearly ran into him.
“Are you family?” she asked.
“Uh, yes, fiancé.” It wasn’t a total lie, just not quite a reality yet.
“Just for a few moments,” she told him. “She needs to rest.”
Dalton nodded and stepped into the semi-dark room. Intubated, she lay still, her head bandaged, face purpled from her injuries. He lifted her
hand and silently willed every ounce of strength he had inside him to her. “I want you to know that Emilee is fine. She’s holding up real good. She’s got a strong will like her mama.” He looked toward the ceiling to summon his strength. Releasing a quiet sigh, he searched her face again. “I don’t know if you can hear me, Angel. But you need to come back to us, darlin.’ Emilee, your uncle and aunt--everyone—needs you. I need you.” He swallowed, reaffirming his resolve. “I know you think that things are too messed up to make it right, but they aren’t. Someone once told me that the things that matter, even if the pieces are scattered, are worth having if you have the patience to put it back together.”
He pulled up a chair close to her bed, and kissed her hand. “I love you and I want us—you, me, and Emilee—to be a family, a real family. And hell, I don’t know, maybe you’ll decide you want more kids and that’s okay by me.” He watched and waited for some sign that she’d heard him. The steady blip of her heart monitor was his only reassurance that she was still alive. “I’m sorry I haven’t been there for you. I’m sorry that my drinking kept you from seeing the man I truly am. And I hope you can see it in your heart to give me a chance to be a good dad to Em, a good husband for you.”
A loud buzz echoed in the room and several nurses invaded the space. “I’m sorry, you’ll have to leave now.”
Dalton was moved aside as several medical staff swallowed Angelique from his view. He felt as though his heart had stopped as he watched them prepare the paddles.
“Sir, you have to leave.” One of the nurses took him by the arm and gently led him into the hall.
“Is she--?” He couldn’t bring himself to say the word.
“We’re doing all we can, sir. Please, wait down the hall with the others.”
And she was gone. He stared at the closed blinds that cut off his view of what was happening inside.
***
“Dalton Kinnison?” A grim faced nurse stood at the doorway of the packed waiting room, scanning the more than two dozen family and friends from End of the Line. All waiting on word about Angelique.
Dalton pushed to his feet. “That’s me.” Confused, he glanced at Rebecca and Michael.
“Please, come with me.”
Dalton’s heart thrummed in his chest. It’d been more than an hour, maybe two, since they’d run him out of the room. He followed the nurse down the hall and arrived as one of the doctors was leaving Angelique’s room. “Is she going to be okay, doc?” He hadn’t realized he was clutching the poor man’s arm until the kind physician covered his hand and patted it.
“She’s had a little setback. Nothing we’d consider serious, however with this type of surgery the body has to reset itself. The next forty-eight hours will be the most crucial for her and the baby.”
Dalton’s brain stopped. Baby? “I’m sorry, did you say baby?”
The doctor, busy with signing off on a chart, was oblivious that he’d just sent Dalton’s world into a tailspin. “Yes, Mr. Kinnison. She was awake for a few moments before surgery and insisted that you should know, regardless of what happens.”
Dalton’s hand fell away, his arm limp. He backed up and leaned against the wall. Baby? He felt a tug on his hand and looked down to find Emilee holding it.
“It’s going to be okay, Mr. Kinnison. My grandma said so.”
He knelt and drew the young girl into his arms, holding her tightly, unaware until this moment how amazing it felt to hug your child.
She leaned back then, studying him with eyes that were wise beyond her years. “You’re my father, aren’t you?”
Another hit to the solar plexus. He blinked and swallowed the sudden lump in his throat. ‘Did your mom tell you that?”
She shook her head.
“Your grandma?”
A shy smile curved her lips. “I asked to see the picture that Miss Aimee took of us. It’s a pretty remarkable likeness.”
Tears stung at the back of his eyes. He swiped them and forced a smile, trying to keep his composure. “What would you think about that?” He sniffed. Jesus. Angelique had to make it. He covered his mouth, pushing away any thoughts to the contrary.
Emilee wrapped her fingers around his hand. “I think my mom needs you, and I think I need my daddy—my real daddy. And my little brother is going to need his daddy, too.”
Her smile lifted his heart, making him think damn near anything was possible. “Who told you…?”
She raised her tiny brow.
“Right,” he said with a smile. Dalton stood and took Emilee’s hand in his. He faced the doctor. “Can I take my daughter in to see her mother?”
The older man nodded as he brushed his hand over Emilee’s head. “She’s awake, but she needs her rest. You two keep it short.”
Three months later~
Angelique scanned the table, looking at those seated around it. Here was her family, the family she’d always dreamt of having, the people who would be there to help and support, love and laugh with her. Ellie, who’s violent encounter with Tony helped to solidify Tony’s permanent residence. Angelique was grateful for all she’d done in the past and eventually talked the woman into moving to move to End of the Line, where she’d shortly thereafter taken a position as head of a safe house for women and children in Billings. Angelique’s heart swelled with gratitude. Here were her aunt and uncle, Sally, and Betty—people she’d known since she was a young girl. She wanted Emilee to know that familiarity, for her and Dalton and the new family they’d started to have it also.
It was surreal to think how life can change in a moment. They’d told her that in post-op recovery that her heart had faltered. She’d been able to hear everything Dalton had said. Heard the plea in his voice, telling her that he loved her, he loved Emilee. She wanted to respond—tried too—but couldn’t.
Her body, her heart responded instead and that was when she found herself alone in a white fog, much like a misty spring morning in the mountains. There she’d seen Jed. He told her she couldn’t stay, that she had a family to raise. She needed to watch out for his son, that he was some of his best work.
Later, when she’d told Dalton, she feared he might find the story odd. Instead, he’d looked at her and smiled, seemingly not at all surprised. “You ought to talk more to your uncle about this. I think there is some truth in this stuff he believes in. I didn’t used to put much stock into it, but I want to know more. I want Emilee to understand her heritage better.” The moment had changed her in ways unimaginable, grounding her, giving her peace.
“Do you need anything else?”
She looked up to accept the water refill and smiled. “I’m good.” She met Dalton’s mouth in a tender kiss and then patted her belly. “I’ve been eating all day.”
Pride and more love than she dared to hope possible shimmered in his dark eyes. He leaned down and whispered in her ear. “You know, our daughter claims she’s going to have a little brother.”
Angelique looked across the table to where Emilee was busy showing Ellie sketches of the new colt, now three months old and as feisty as his little human admirer. It seemed the two had bonded and that’s where she spent her every moment after school.
Dalton sat down next to her and leaned over to kiss her once more. There’d been much of that, as well as a civil ceremony at Dalton’s insistence once she’d been released from the hospital. Already the paperwork had been started to correct Emilee’s birth certificate, naming both Dalton and Angelique as her legal parents. But he’d promised a celebration later at the ranch, because, as he’d told her, “Those sisters-in-law of mine won’t have it any other way.”
Angelique looked around, unable to count the number of ways she was blessed on this Thanksgiving Day.
Liberty stood at her place as the last platter of food was placed on the table that Rein had custom made for Kinnison family celebrations. The array of food was good enough for a king’s royal feast. “Since this is my new home, I’d like to offer a toast—first, to my amazing husban
d, his brothers and friends one and all, who helped get this house built and ready in time for our first family celebration. To Jed for creating a legacy that will carry on in our children and our children’s children. To my sisters--we’re outlaws and I love you more than you’ll ever know.” She stopped and smiled as everyone, glasses raised, waited for her to finish. “And to family, those by blood and those by choice, and to those yet to join us.” She glanced at Angelique, and then directed her grin toward Rein as she touched her belly.
Emilee squealed, the first to show she understood what Liberty had implied. Rein’s eyes widened and he stood, grabbing her in bear hug as everyone applauded. The sumptuous meal was delayed by a flurry of hugs and congratulations.
Rein grabbed his glass as everyone made their way back to their seats. “To the Kinnison legacy!”
“To the Kinnsion legacy,” they all responded in unison.
Dear Readers,
I hope you enjoyed reading Dalton and Angelique’s story. Dalton was one of my favorite Kinnison brothers to write about. He’d been carrying around his anger and bitterness of his moms abandonment for years, brooding inwardly that he never knew who his father was. To see the change when he finally does realize who that is, is a pivotal turning point in his attitude. But ahead lies a great many more obstacles that he must face. That’s what I love most about writing romance. Watching my characters go through some tough times, and yet, somehow, through it all, love finds a way.
I invite you to read the other two books so far in this series of the formidable Kinnison men and the women who tame them! Here is a bit about RUGGED HEARTS, Book I (Wyatt & Aimee’s story) and RUSTLER’S HEART, Book II (Rein & Liberty’s story.) Each is stand alone, but the town, the family and secondary characters blend into a rich tapestry of community, hope, second chances, and lots of romance! (Of course!)
***
Rugged Hearts, Book I~
“Raw Charm...one to read." ~Publisher's Weekly
Renegade Hearts (The Kinnison Legacy Book 3) Page 15