by Mandy Magro
Ryan ran towards her and fell to the ground. Placing the gun down beside him his eyes widened when he saw the blood dripping from the gashes on her arms.
‘Don’t worry, it looks worse than what it is.’
Without a word Ryan grabbed her and pulled her into his arms. ‘That son of a bitch is never going to come anywhere near you again. I’ll make damn sure of it.’
Matilda nestled in closer to him, her hands gripping the back of his shirt. ‘Thank you, Ryan, for loving me the way you do. I’m so lucky it was a beautiful man like you that picked me up along that country road.’
Leaning back slightly, so he could look into her eyes, Ryan shook his head. ‘Please don’t thank me. I should be thanking you for showing me what love really is.’ He cupped her cheeks and began to gently kiss her tears away.
Matilda melted beneath his concern, his touch making her feel so very safe, and so very loved. Her thoughts scattered as her heart burned bright for him.
Without warning the machete came down, hard and fast, striking Ryan across the head and back. There was a guttural noise as he collapsed forwards, into Matilda, then rolled to the ground. He remained unmoving, lifeless, as a pool of blood quickly grew beneath him. Sobbing, Matilda cupped his face, begging him to stay with her. The lifelessness in his eyes was the most terrifying thing she had ever seen. Collapsing onto him she wrapped her arms around him. She was about to lose the only man she had ever truly loved, and all because he had come to save her. She wanted to die with him. There was nothing left for her here.
Succumbing to death, Matilda sat up and faced Troy, her gaze fierce. Refusing to let him get the reaction he wanted, was used to from her, she was not going to cower from this evil man.
Troy grinned as he brought the cane knife up in the air, ready to give her the fateful blow.
‘Meet you in hell, Matilda,’ Troy roared.
A gunshot rang out, echoing through the night like a clap of thunder, bringing Matilda to the ground beside Ryan …
CHAPTER
26
The Nicholas Sparks book Ryan had been reading out on the verandah while Matilda had lazed in the hammock now sat on the bedside table, the bookmark slipped in a few more chapters ahead. Matilda relished reading it out loud whenever she was in here alone, often wondering if Ryan could hear her, and if he could, if it was helping him pass the time. She hoped so. It was the very least she could do.
‘You look exhausted, Tilly.’ Lisa’s soft voice pulled Matilda from her thoughts. She brought her gaze from the stark white sheets of the hospital bed to meet eyes as red and raw as her own. Samara sat beside her Nan, her nose buried in a book.
‘Not any more than you are, Lisa.’ She smiled sadly. ‘I just wish we would see a sign, anything to let us know he’s going to come back to us. It’s been almost five days, and nothing, not even a twitch.’
‘I know, I pray for it every second of every day, as does the rest of the family.’ Wiping her wet eyes with the tissue she’d been holding for the past hour, Lisa reached across the bed and gently touched Matilda’s arm. ‘Why don’t you go home and try to get some sleep, love. I’ll sit with him until you get back.’
Matilda shook her head. ‘I can’t.’
‘Yes, you can, and trust me, as hard as it is to drift off, you will eventually. It rips me in two having to go home, but I have to make myself or I’ll be no good to anyone.’
‘Yes, but you’ve got good reason to, Lisa, with your health to take care of and a family who needs you there. But me …’ She shrugged. ‘I’ve only got myself to think of, so it makes sense for me to stay here with him.’
‘We all need to take care of ourselves, and each other, through this, Tilly. You really have to give yourself some time out from this room or you’re going to collapse—and we certainly don’t want that, do we?’
Matilda looked over to the corner of the private room, to the chair that had left her with a throbbing lower back the past four mornings. ‘I get a little bit of sleep in that thing every night, not that comfort is a factor, mind you. I swear to God they make it awkward to sleep in so you seriously consider going home instead.’
‘Yes, it is terribly uncomfortable. I’m still paying the price of trying to sleep in it the first night when you were down at the police station. I think I would have been better off rolling a swag out on the floor. Damn hospitals should have something more comfortable for families in situations like this, especially when you pay for private medical.’ Her lips set in a grim line. ‘All that aside though, Tilly, you really need to get some rest, so chop chop, off you go.’
Terror gripped Matilda and she knew her face displayed every bit of it. ‘But what if he wakes up while I’m gone?’
Lisa didn’t speak for a few moments, the look in her eyes communicating the same apprehensions Matilda harboured—that there was a chance Ryan would never wake up. The doctors had made that heartbreaking fact very clear to all of them. She gave Matilda’s arm a squeeze before resting back in her seat. ‘Righto then, I’m not going to drag you out of here kicking and screaming. So how about we meet in the middle—go and lie down in the waiting room, and I’ll come and grab you if there’s any movement whatsoever, okay?’
‘I will soon, Lisa. Promise.’
‘I’m going to hold you to that, love.’ Lisa stood. Groaning, her hand went to her lower back as she tried to straighten up. ‘I might head down to get a coffee then. Would either of you like anything while I’m down there?’
Her glasses perched on the tip of her nose, Samara looked over the top of the book she was reading. ‘No thanks, Nanna, Gramps and I had some lunch before he dropped me in here, so I’m all good.’
‘Okay, sweetheart.’ Lisa collected her handbag from the back of the chair she’d been seated on. ‘Tilly?’
‘A strong black tea please, if that’s okay?’
‘Of course it is.’ Lisa looked at Matilda as only a mother could. ‘Come to think of it, when was the last time you ate anything?’
Matilda had to really think about it. ‘Lunchtime yesterday, I had a toasted sandwich that Jake bought me.’
‘Oh, love, that’s over twenty-four hours ago—you really have to take better care of yourself.’ Lisa came to her side and gently placed her hand on her shoulder. ‘I know you might think you don’t feel like anything, but you really should eat. Ryan wouldn’t want you starving yourself, would he?’
Allowing a few seconds to stop and think of herself, Matilda had to finally acknowledge the hunger pains that had been there since last night. ‘Okay then, make that a tea and a toasted ham and cheese sandwich, please.’
‘Righto, I’ll be back soon.’ Stopping at the doorway, she turned back to Matilda. ‘Thank you, Tilly.’
After what had happened how could Lisa be thanking her? ‘What for?’
‘For loving my son the way you do.’
Matilda choked back a sob. She had no words and instead offered Lisa a grateful smile as a smidgen of her guilt lifted—but only a smidgen. With teary eyes Lisa returned the gesture before walking off, the clip-clop of her shoes eventually disappearing down the long corridor.
Shattered after five days of hardly any sleep, endless tears, pounding guilt and heart-crushing grief, Matilda remained beside the hospital bed. She was determined to be there if and when he opened his eyes. She examined the criss-cross of tubes and wires connecting Ryan to the life-support system. An array of flowers and cards from well wishers filled the stark room with colour and the scent of life. If only Ryan could see how much he was loved and admired by the Moonstone Valley community, he would realise he wasn’t looked upon as the murderer of Samara’s father, but instead a hero who had done what he needed to.
As the days had rolled on Matilda was repeatedly overwhelmed by the way the township rallied together—the CWA ladies were making sure hot meals were on the table back at the farm every night, close friends were calling into the hospital to give support wherever they could—although they were
n’t allowed in to see Ryan—and the local church had even held a prayer session for him yesterday afternoon. From what Jake had told her it had been overflowing with people.
Blinking back tears Matilda fidgeted in her seat, trying to find a comfortable position while making sure not to let go of Ryan’s hand. If only she could wind back time, she wouldn’t have told him Troy had shown up. It was all her fault that Ryan was now fighting for his life. Her eyes travelled to the place they quite often rested, on the bandage that covered the massive wound Troy had inflicted, a deep gash to the side of Ryan’s head, which had required nine hours of lifesaving surgery. The doctors couldn’t believe he had lived after such an horrific attack, and although it was encouraging that he had survived the surgery, Ryan wasn’t out of the woods yet.
She visualised the long lesion that crossed over the back of Ryan’s shoulder blades, one that had required ninety-eight stiches, and her heart squeezed even tighter as the fateful night caved in on her once again. Ryan’s look of shock and horror as he’d crumbled into her, the moment she’d almost succumbed to death by Troy’s hands, and then the weight of his lifeless body crashing down upon her after Sergeant Fuller had shot Troy dead. It all felt so surreal.
She had gone over and over those last few seconds what felt like a million times, and each time her anguish and guilt grew. They were all fragments of moments that came to this very one—of her sitting beside the bed of a man she loved with every fibre of her being, a man who had given her so much in such a short amount of time, a man that had laid his own life on the line for hers. Now he was fighting to stay on this earth, and by God she wanted him here with her so they could live out their days side by side. That was, if he still wanted her, and even more importantly, if he remembered her after the massive head trauma he’d sustained. The doctors had warned them that even if he did come out of his coma, there was a big chance he might be suffering from brain damage.
Beside her, a steady beeping marked the rhythm of Ryan’s heart. Although a beautiful sound for it meant there was still life within him, it also tore at her very soul knowing Lisa and Peter might eventually have to come to the decision to turn the life support off. A choice she couldn’t allow herself to think of and not only for her own reasons. After already losing their daughter to such tragic circumstances, they might also lose their son. For that, Matilda held herself fully responsible. Holding onto Ryan’s hand, wishing that she could feel him squeeze her hand back, she tried her best not to crumble into tiny pieces. She leant in and placed a kiss upon his cheek, lingering there, breathing in his familiar scent, before pulling back gently to whisper in his ear.
‘I’m here, beautiful. Waiting to be able to tell you how much I love you. Please come back to me, to us. We all need you, Ryan. I want to grow old with you. I want a chance to make you the happiest man alive.’
‘Uncle Ryan’s a fighter, Tilly. He’s not going to leave us,’ Samara said from the opposite side of the bed. Standing, she placed her book down and wandered around to stand beside her. Then, wrapping her arm around Matilda’s shoulder, she rested her head against hers.
With fatigue ridding her of her usual senses Matilda had forgotten Samara was still in the room. She swallowed the lump of emotion building in her throat. ‘Yup, he sure is a fighter, sweetheart.’ She gently poked her arm. ‘Just like you are, gorgeous girl.’
‘Geez, thanks, Tilly, although I don’t feel like much of a fighter … I feel like more of a scaredy cat most of the time.’
Matilda finally let go of Ryan’s hand, only to grab hold of Samara’s. ‘Oh, trust me, sweetheart, with what you’ve been through in your short lifetime and how you’ve come out the other side with endless love and kindness in your heart you are an inspiration to many, including me …’ She stopped for a few moments, trying to hold back her rising emotions. ‘While we’re on the subject, anyone who can face up to panic attacks the way you have is a superhero in my eyes.’
‘Wow, thanks, Tilly, that means a lot.’ Samara gave Matilda a loving smile. ‘You know what?’
‘What?’
‘I reckon, if you keep telling Uncle Ryan what you just did, he’ll be back with us in no time. Uncle Ryan loves you, Tilly, more than he’s ever loved anyone before. I can see it every time he looks at you.’
‘Oh, I don’t know about that.’
‘I do.’ Samara’s face turned deadly serious. ‘You can’t blame yourself for this, Tilly. Uncle Ryan is already living with the guilt of losing my mum; I don’t think he would have coped living with the guilt of losing you too. He did what he needed to do, and saved you.’
The emotion Matilda had tried to swallow down bubbled to the surface and she openly wept, her sobs coming from deep within. Samara threw both arms around her, the embrace consoling her beyond words. ‘You’re so beautiful, Samara, and so wise beyond your years … but you shouldn’t have to comfort me,’ she choked out.
‘You were there for me when I needed it the most. Now I’ll be here for you, because that’s what family does, we look after each other.’
Matilda sniffled. ‘You count me as your family?’
Samara gave her a small tender smile. ‘I sure do, as does Nanna, Gramps and Jake. You’re going to be my aunty one of these days, I just know it.’ She leant in and whispered, ‘Nanna reckons that she’ll be helping organise yours and Uncle Ryan’s wedding by the end of next year.’
‘Does she now? Well, I hope you’re right,’ Matilda said through her tears.
‘I know I’m right.’
At a loss for words Matilda pulled Samara back into her arms.
Hugging one another, they remained silent as they looked towards the man who meant the world to them both.
Samara gently eased herself from Matilda’s arms and sat at the end of the bed. ‘I wish Gramps would come and visit more. It makes me mad that he doesn’t.’
Matilda nodded, then sighed. ‘I don’t think he knows how to cope with it, Samara, so try not to be too hard on him.’
Looking down at her hands in her lap Samara nodded. ‘Gramps has never been very good at handling emotional stuff. I’ve only ever seen him cry once, and that was when Mum died.’
Matilda reached out and stroked Samara’s face. ‘Oh, sweetheart, we all handle things differently … It doesn’t mean your Gramps doesn’t care about your Uncle Ryan. Quite the contrary, he loves him so much he can’t bear seeing his son this way.’
Samara thought about this for a few moments. ‘Yeah, I suppose you’re right. Boys don’t really show their emotions like girls do.’
‘No, they tend not to. It’s probably a good thing because we girls quite often need the men to be our rocks, and vice versa.’
Samara smiled. ‘Yeah, we do, don’t we?’
‘Uh huh.’ Matilda dropped her hands back to her lap. ‘So tell me, how’s Huckleberry going?’
Samara smiled broadly, her eyes twinkling the way they did each and every time she spoke of her doggy mate. ‘Oh, he’s wonderful. He makes me laugh all the time. Nanna has even let him sleep in my room the last couple of nights. Not on the bed, of course, but in his own little doggy bed on the floor.’ She glanced towards the doorway, then dropped her voice to a murmur. ‘I let him sneak in with me sometimes, just for a cuddle.’
Matilda’s heart swelled. ‘You really love him heaps, don’t you, Samara?’
‘I sure do. He’s my best friend in the whole world.’
Matilda didn’t need to think about what she was about to say next. ‘Well, if your Nanna is okay with it, how about you let him live with you and I’ll come and visit him when I can?’
‘Oh really? Are you sure?’
‘Yes, really … the pub’s not the right place for a dog like Huckleberry to live anyway. It’ll be much better for him out there. He enjoys being able to run about on the farm, he adores you and Bo’s good company for him too. So why not, I say.’
Samara leapt from the bed and wrapped her arms around Matilda, squeezing her tight. �
�Oh, thank you so much, Tilly.’ She pulled back, grinning. ‘I promise I will take excellent care of him.’
‘I know you will, sweetheart.’ Matilda’s heart was dragged in two directions as she gave Samara a loving smile. She ached knowing Huckleberry was no longer going to be her right-hand man, but she was pleased to give Samara a reason to be happy amongst all the anguish she’d endured, and was still enduring, in her young life.
CHAPTER
27
Matilda jerked awake with a gasp—the image of Ryan’s coffin being lowered into the earth lingering and tormenting her already tortured heart. Groaning, she rubbed her teary cheeks, feeling the impression left there from the vinyl armrest. One of the nurses had taken her to a small room where she could rest and she’d curled up in a hard, uncomfortable lounge chair. So much for not being able to doze off—as much as she had fought it, her extreme fatigue must have got the better of her.
Sitting up, she stretched her neck as she tried to rid it of the ache from the awkward position she’d been sleeping in. Glancing at her watch she was surprised to see it was close to ten. She’d been asleep for almost five hours. With a wave of panic she rushed for the closed door on unsteady legs, her senses returning as she stepped from the darkened room into the brightly lit corridor. Someone surely would have come and got her if there’d been any development.
Not in the mood for smiling at people she didn’t know, something she usually enjoyed, Tilly kept her eyes to the ground. Passing the nurses’ station a familiar voice captured her attention. She glanced up, shocked to see Pippa having an argument with one of the nurses. She had wondered how long it would be before the wretched woman showed up—a little surprised it had taken her till now.
‘I am basically his wife, goddamn it, and I demand to see him.’ Pippa rubbed her belly where a little mound was showing. ‘I’m carrying his child, so how can you people keep me from him?’ She began to cry, sob even.