Judging from the silence, everyone was trying to figure out what to say. “I’m sorry,” Lucy managed, which turned out to be a stellar answer because Rosy smiled at her.
“I felt so guilty that I wanted to bring him back,” Rosy added. “I wanted him to be around forever.”
While that was touching, he was glad Rosy wouldn’t legally be able to do that to any of them.
The “coping” started up again, and while Callen paced, he looked around the hospital. There’d been lots of visits here over the years. ER visits because of sports injuries and fevers and such that just couldn’t wait for a regular office appointment.
Some of those early visits had been follow-ups for the injuries that Avis Odell had given him. Nico had had plenty of checkups, too, but that was only after he’d got out of the hospital in San Antonio.
Bad memories.
No matter how fast you paced, they were always right there snapping and nipping at your heels.
Shelby and he crossed paths again, but this time she stopped and caught onto his arm. She studied his eyes as if trying to figure out what new thing she saw in them. Of course, it wasn’t new, but it seemed to take her a moment to figure it out.
“Don’t feel sorry for me,” he warned her in a whisper. That had worked for Rosy with the Billy-murder, but Callen felt too raw for that from Shelby. He wouldn’t break, but he might lose an edge that he needed to keep in order to get through this.
Shelby came up on her toes and put her mouth right against his ear. “You have a very nice ass,” she whispered. Her expression didn’t change, and she moved right back into the pace.
Well, it was just as effective as Lucy’s “I’m sorry” had been to Rosy. Maybe more. Because Callen found himself smiling. That ended, though, when Dr. Breland came out of the corridor and started toward them. The doctor’s somber look had Callen ditching the smile, and he went to Shelby so he could put his arm around her.
Suddenly everyone got to their feet, and they turned their complete attention to the doctor. Callen didn’t like to think that so many things hinged on whatever the man said. He especially didn’t like to think that Buck’s life hinged on it.
“Buck came through the surgery, and we removed the tumor,” the doctor explained. He held up his hands when the barrage of questions started. “We don’t know yet if it’s cancer. We won’t have those results back for a couple of days.”
Hell. More waiting. As much as that frustrated Callen, he tried not to show it. Shelby had burrowed against him. Rosy had done the same to Mateo, and Havana had hold of Lucy.
“Buck’s in recovery, and he’s heavily sedated,” the doctor went on. “He wants to see you. All of you,” he emphasized. His huff let them know that was an argument he’d had with Buck and lost. “According to Buck, you’re to go in alphabetical order by first name. I guess that’s his way of not showing favoritism.”
Maybe because they were all in a mind haze of worry, they started working their way through the alphabet. Callen would be first. Well, unless Buck wanted to appease Rosy and ask to see Billy. Barring that, Callen would be first and Shelby last. A sort of sandwich for the others. Callen only hoped Buck didn’t tire himself out so that he wouldn’t have much energy to speak with Shelby. Rosy and she needed Buck the most right now.
“Since there are so many of you,” the doctor went on, “you only get two minutes each, and I’ll be timing it. Don’t say anything, and I mean anything, that will upset him.”
“Oh dear,” Rosy whimpered. “I won’t bring up the sunflowers, then, because I’m not sure how he feels about them.”
As before, they gave her mild murmurs of agreement, and the doctor motioned for Callen to follow him. The hospital wasn’t that big, so it didn’t take them long to get down the hall and to the recovery room. He spotted Buck right away in the bed surrounded by machines.
God, he looked so pale, but then Callen hadn’t expected better since the man had just had his chest cracked open.
“Two minutes,” the doctor reminded Callen as he went in. “Not a second more.”
Buck lifted his eyelids, not easily, and when he tried to speak, there was no sound. “Bumfuzzle...is a funny word...don’t you think?” Buck finally said.
Callen glanced back at the doctor. “He’s heavily medicated,” Dr. Breland reminded him.
So it would be this kind of conversation. Callen was almost relieved. It would be an easier one than some heart-squeezing outpouring of possible bad outcomes and such.
“Yeah, it is,” Callen agreed. “So is my personal favorite, catawampus.”
Buck managed a slight nod and an equally slight smile before his eyelids fluttered back down. “Shelby’s falling in love with you.”
Callen went stiff. Said nothing.
“Go gentle with her, Callen.” He paused, made a soft grunting sound. “You’re my favorite kid.” Buck made an air pat in the general direction of Callen’s arm.
“You’re going to say that to the rest of them, aren’t you?” Callen asked.
“Absolutely. And it’ll be true.”
With that, Buck drifted off.
* * *
FOR THE FIRST time in her life Shelby wished that her name had been Anne or, heck, even aardvark. That way she wouldn’t have had to wait so long to see her dad. But since she was at the bottom of this particular alphabet selection, she’d had to wait through Callen, Judd, Kace, Lucy, Mateo, Nico and Rosy.
Havana had given up her turn, so that had shaved a couple of minutes off her waiting time, but it still felt like an eternity. It didn’t bode well that Callen, Judd and Kace had all come out of the recovery room with somber expressions that they’d tried to cover with fake optimism.
The general consensus from those first three was that “Buck looked great but he’s a little out of it—which is to be expected.” She doubted that looking great part, hence her diagnosis of fake optimism.
No sunny outlook for Lucy. She’d come out dabbing tears from her eyes and had then asked the meaning of catawampus, making Shelby wonder exactly what had gone on during their conversation. Mateo had asked the meaning of bumfuzzle, making Shelby wonder even more. The wonder continued when Nico came out grinning and announced that he was “Buck’s favorite kid.” He’d added a fist pump.
All right. So that stung a little, but then maybe her dad had categories of favorites. Such as favorite kid whose name started with an N.
Rosy had come out of recovery beaming and was pleased to let them know that Buck had approved her choice to get violets for the bouquet. Shelby wasn’t sure that was a wise way to use her two minutes, but at least Rosy wasn’t crying, asking about the meaning of odd words or spewing fake sunshine.
Shelby had already made her way to the recovery room door so that she’d be ready when Dr. Breland gave her the go-ahead. When he finally did, she rushed in, not wanting to eat up seconds with the trek from the door to the bed.
“Dad, I love you, and I want you to get better fast,” she blurted out. She’d rehearsed it to make sure she got it all out. “Don’t worry about a thing. Just heal.”
Her dad looked at her, one of his eyes going in a different direction than the other. That confirmed the “heavily medicated” part. His sallow skin and hollow face confirmed that Kace, Callen and Judd had BS’ed her about his looking good. He looked like crud, but she suspected that was normal after surgery.
“Shelby,” he said, his voice weak and rattled. He did an air pat of her hand, and she braced herself for possible comments about favorites, strange words or flowers. “You mustn’t blame yourself.”
Okay. She hadn’t been expecting that. “Dad, it’s me, Shelby,” she clarified just in case.
“I know. Don’t blame yourself,” he repeated. “You’re not the reason your mother died.”
Everything inside her went still. “Uh, what?” she asked
.
“Your mother,” he said as if that explained everything. “Not your fault that she was leaving us.”
“Uh, what?” Shelby repeated.
Nothing. Her father’s eyelids lowered, and he went back to sleep.
“Sorry, but your time’s up,” the doctor told her.
She shook her head to clear it and started walking. That had been the fastest two minutes of her life. And in some ways, the longest. What the heck had he meant? She wanted to believe it was just some fragment of a dream that had fallen out of the drug haze, but it had felt like so much more.
Shelby still hadn’t managed to shake off the haze when she made it back to the waiting room. Only Callen and Rosy were still there, though.
“Judd took the kids back to the ranch,” Rosy explained. “He’ll stay there tonight so you and I can get some rest.”
That was good. She wouldn’t have to worry about the kids. But she did have to worry about what her father had told her.
“Are you okay?” Callen asked.
“No.” In hindsight, she should have gone for some of the fake “all is well,” but Shelby didn’t feel so well. “Dad said I shouldn’t blame myself for my mother leaving. You two don’t know anything about that, do you?”
Their silent stares weren’t from surprise, she decided. No. That was more of a deer-in-the-headlights look. Looks that turned to glances that Callen and Rosy aimed at each other.
“You two don’t know anything, do you?” Shelby repeated.
It was Callen who broke the silence, and he dragged in a long breath. “Come on, Shelby. Let me take you home so we can talk.”
As they walked out, Shelby heard Rosy mutter, “Oh dear.”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CALLEN FIGURED HE was the worst person to deliver the kind of news that he was about to deliver to Shelby, and that was why he wanted to do everything he could to soften the blow.
He was going to use booze.
Perhaps sex.
Whatever it took to keep her from falling apart. She was already fragile and worn-out from Buck’s surgery, and hearing something like this could send her right over the edge.
She didn’t press him for information as he drove her home. Probably because she knew what was coming was yet another bombshell. Worse, it was another of Buck’s secrets that Callen hadn’t spilled to her. Realizing that had him rethinking sex. Sex probably wasn’t going to happen, so the booze was going to have to do double duty.
When Callen reached her house, he got her inside and helped her out of her coat before taking off his own. Still no questions, and she sat obediently on the sofa after he led her there.
With her hands folded in her lap, her eyes tracked him as he went to the kitchen and grabbed the bottle of Irish whiskey that he’d noticed the morning he had made coffee. The cat was there, sitting by a nearly empty food and water dish and glaring at Callen as if he were responsible for multiple crimes against felines and humanity. Since he was feeling guilty about withholding yet another secret, Callen located the cat food in the pantry and dumped some on top of the dish. He then filled the water bowl.
That didn’t appease Elvira, and with an annoyed flick of her tail, she sauntered away. Perhaps plotting his demise.
He brought the bottle of whiskey and two shot glasses to the living room, and he filled both before setting the bottle on the table. He dragged over a chair so he could sit facing her.
“Don’t baby me,” she said, breaking the silence, and surprising him. “I know you have something heart-wrenching and possibly life destroying to tell me, but you don’t have to baby me.”
“Okay.” Taking her at her word, Callen drank both shots. He doubted that actually qualified as antibabying, but he could use the booze to steady his own nerves.
“Say it fast,” she insisted.
He nodded and went with fast. “Your mother was leaving your dad the night she was killed in a car accident. She was going to divorce him. Buck didn’t tell you because he was worried you’d blame yourself because you and your mom had apparently argued right before she left.”
Shelby just kept staring at him, and he hoped she was trying to process that rather than going into shock. It was actually a relief when she finally moved. She poured herself a drink and took it in one gulp.
“Okay,” she muttered. He thought her speaking was a good idea, but then she started repeating it. The first three times wasn’t that alarming, but when it continued, Callen worried that “the edge” was right there, waiting for her to go over.
He got out of the chair, kneeling in front of her, and he took hold of her shoulders. “What happened wasn’t your fault.”
She finally stopped repeating “okay” and looked at him. “I was a pain in the ass during those days. Moody and bitchy. I argued with her at the drop of a hat.”
Yes, he remembered some of those arguments. “You were a teenager,” he reminded her. “Hat-dropping arguments come with the territory.”
She shook her head, and he could tell she was about to launch into a guilt trip, so he cupped her chin and forced her to make eye contact. “Your mom and Buck argued, too. I’m guessing your mom left because she just wanted a different life.”
“One without me,” Shelby concluded.
“One without anything she had here,” he amended. “Maybe she felt she didn’t have a choice about that, that she had to go to keep her sanity or something.”
“Like you. You had to leave.”
Callen didn’t even try to argue that. Because it was true.
“And you still need to leave,” she added. “You still need that other life to keep you sane.”
Callen frowned. He darn sure hadn’t wanted the conversation to swing in this direction. “The old baggage made it hard for me to be here,” he admitted.
“Makes it hard,” she corrected him. “I saw you when you were looking around the hospital, and I knew you were thinking about when you’d first come to the ranch. About your injuries. About Nico’s.”
He had indeed been thinking that, and since Shelby was clearly so tuned in to his emotions, it seemed stupid to keep his memories about that under wraps.
“You left because everywhere you go, there are things to trigger the past for you,” Shelby went on.
Again, he couldn’t argue about that, but he could try to get this chat back on track. This wasn’t about him, but it sure seemed as if Shelby was setting him up for something. Maybe she was about to tell him that it was okay for him to leave. Maybe she was going to push him away. For his own good, of course. But it wouldn’t be good for her right now. Not with her stewing in this emotional bog.
“My situation was different from your mom’s,” he assured her. “I seriously doubt she would have given up seeing you. I figure she would have gotten the divorce, and then split custody. She would have still been your mother.”
Shelby went quiet again, hopefully considering—and believing—that. “How long have you known?”
Actually, Callen had hoped she wouldn’t consider that. “Not long. Buck told me after I came back.”
“After he told you about the tumor, something he was keeping from everyone else,” she summarized. Shelby’s eyebrow lifted. “Are there any more of Dad’s secrets you’re keeping?”
“No.” Thank God. Two had been plenty enough.
“You’re sure?” she pressed, and he couldn’t blame her for not trusting him. “What about when you were in the recovery room with him? No two-minute secret revelations in there?”
Callen shrugged and even managed a little smile. “Only that I’m his favorite kid.” Best to add the other part in case Buck did a tell-all. “And that you were falling in love with me.”
Her eyes widened, filled with surprise, and he didn’t think it was because of the favorite-kid part. Hell.
“Buck w
as drugged,” Callen added in reminder. “He didn’t know what he was saying.”
She stared at him. Nodded. “Yes, he did. I am falling in love with you.”
Now it was Callen’s turn for wide eyes—and a hefty side of skepticism. Considering the other part of the conversation they’d just had about baggage, leaving for sanity’s sake, etc., this felt like a ploy to get him running. No way could he do that, not with Shelby’s emotional state, but it confirmed to him that sex was indeed off the table.
Or not.
Shelby hooked her arm around his neck, yanked him to her, and she kissed him. Definitely not the reaction he’d been expecting, and while kissing her always felt right, it was wrong. And Callen needed to tell her that while his head was still clear. Or rather clear-ish since the kiss was already taking its toll.
He tore his mouth from hers and made eye contact again. “Shelby, you’re upset. Rightfully so. You’re tired, and you’re not thinking straight.”
She made a quick sound of agreement. Then tacked on a sound of disagreement, too. “I’m upset and tired. And I’m using you. Or at least I would if you’d hush and kiss me.”
Oh man. This was not what he wanted. Well, a certain part of him did, but that part was stupid. “Sex might not be the way to go here.” Though it pained him to say it.
“It’d be a distraction. One I need. One you probably need, too. There’s no harm in that.”
And she kissed him again.
The taste of her slammed through him, and the slamming continued when she moved off the sofa and into his arms. Body to body, in an off-balancing kind of way since he was still kneeling. He bobbled to keep them from tumbling over, but that turned out to be a mistake, too, because it caused her breasts to slide against his chest.
Now he was the one who was distracted, and his willpower was spiraling down in a nosedive. Definitely not good. Still, Callen managed to break the lip-lock again long enough to speak. He probably should have considered first, though, what stellar argument he could use to get Shelby to reconsider this.
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