Donald sat hunched in the chair next to Wren’s bed, clutching her small hand like a lifeline. Stuffed animals, shiny Mylar balloons, and colorful flower arrangements covered nearly every surface. A bombardment of love from the Woodcrest community, no doubt.
A ball of heat landed in Keely’s chest. Only a month had passed since she’d left the community, but already she deeply missed them.
But she was cooking up a remedy to fix that.
Donald barely glanced up when Keely came to the bed. Red rimmed his eyes, and shadows hung under them. Clearly the man wasn’t sleeping.
Yeah, well, what parent would? Keely checked on Zoey so many times a night, she should probably make up a bed in her room.
“How’s our girl?” Keely asked softly as she leaned down to wrap Donald in a one-armed hug.
He sighed, scrubbing a hand down his face. “Better. Breathing on her own now, and the doctors think she’ll wake up any time. They’re ‘cautiously optimistic’ she’ll make a full recovery.” He shook his head, his voice roughed. “I just keep hoping ...”
Keely squeezed his shoulder. “She’s a fighter, like her dad. And she’s got the best care.”
“I can never repay you,” Donald choked out. “What you did, that concert—it covered all her bills. I don’t know what I would have—” His voice broke, and he ducked his head.
“That’s what family does,” Keely said firmly. “We take care of each other.”
The words just tumbled out, and she caught her breath. But ... everyone at Woodcrest had felt like family, really.
But the true family was the new and precious thing between her and Dawson and Zoey. This weird sense that, yes, she’d been waiting for this her entire life. Lost ... and found in Alaska.
More than found, really. The future seemed bright and whole and ... healing.
The door swung open and Dawson entered, a healing but still bandaged Caspian at his heels. The dog wore an Elizabethan collar that made him resemble a furry lamp.
Zoey instantly lit up. “Puppy!” She scampered over and threw her arms around Caspian’s neck, dodging the collar. The dog’s tail thumped against the linoleum.
Sweet.
“Gentle, Zoey.” Dawson steered her hands away from Caspian’s wrapped chest. “Remember, he’s still got owies.”
Oh, the man was too cute when he talked like a four-year-old.
Zoey nodded, then placed the gentlest of pats on the dog’s head instead. Dawson shared a grin with Keely, shaking his head. But his eyes lit with a sort of joy.
Yes, yes, this was the right decision.
“Not sure who’s gonna heal faster, him or me.” He limped slightly as he leaned across the bed to shake Donald’s hand and then pulled Keely to his side.
Oh, she loved this man.
This life. And it was just getting started.
“Any updates?” Dawson asked, nodding toward Wren.
“Doing better,” Keely said. “Doctors are optimistic.”
“That’s the best news I’ve heard all day,” Dawson said. He gave Donald a grim nod.
Donald blinked hard, maybe to clear the shimmer of tears from his eyes. “I can’t thank you both enough. That concert ...”
“It was ... well, people were really generous. And the real star was a certain hero who saved the day.” Keely shot a glance at Caspian.
“Hey,” Dawson said. “I wasn’t just eye candy.”
“No, no, that’s exactly what you were.” Keely winked.
