He laughed and dropped a kiss on the tip of her nose.
A soft moan drew their attention to the bed where Wren had begun to stir, her brows furrowing as she surfaced from the deep pool of sleep.
Donald shot to his feet, one hand cupping Wren’s cheek. “Wren? Honey, can you hear me?”
Her eyelids fluttered once, twice, then opened fully. She blinked. “Daddy?” The little girl’s voice rasped through her oxygen mask.
“I’m right here.” He pushed her hair from her face, pressed a kiss to her forehead.
Her gaze swept the room, taking in the balloons and flowers before landing on Keely and Dawson. A shy smile peeked out. “Keely.”
“Hey there, troublemaker.” Keely perched on the edge of the bed, taking one of Wren’s small hands between her own.
Zoey had gotten up. “I brought you a present.” She held out a slightly crumpled piece of paper covered in crayon scribbles.
“Who are you?” Wren asked, taking the paper.
“I’m”—she looked at Keely—“That’s my mom.”
Wren sighed. Smiled. Her eyes closed.
Caspian settled on the floor, also with a loud sigh.
“I think that’s probably enough for right now,” Dawson said.He leaned down to pick up Zoey. “How about you color Wren another picture, huh?” He brought Zoey over to a chair and pulled up the bed table.
Like a seasoned father already, Dawson pulled out a pack of crayons, just three colors, then crouched in front of Zoey and handed them to her. “How about a picture of Caspian.”
He’d evidently grabbed the paper place mat from the burger place where they had lunch and now unfolded it onto the tray.
The man thought of everything.
Zoey leaned over the paper, began to draw.
“Who are you?” Keely said as he walked back to her. He grinned at her, winked.
Already, Wren had fallen back to sleep.
Donald wiped his eyes again and stood up. Walked away from her.
Dawson and Keely followed.
“Any updates on the Sorros front?” Donald’s jaw clenched, a muscle ticking in his cheek.
“Conan is locked down tight, awaiting trial. We all gave our testimonies, and with Keely’s account of the crash, he’s not going anywhere.” Dawson’s hand landed on the small of Keely’s back, warm and reassuring. “But Mars is in the wind. Sheriff Starr thinks they spotted him in Copper Mountain. My SAR buddy Jericho has a scent dog, and apparently they were here to track Conan, but Starr has asked him to help find Mars, so the hunt isn’t over.”
Donald shook his head, his expression grim.
Yeah, she got that. She’d like to see all the brothers—and their evil cousin Sloan—behind bars. Frankly, she didn’t feel safe with any of them on the loose.
She wound her fingers between Dawson’s and held on. He tightened his around hers in response.
Dawson’s voice turned low, lethal. “They’ll get them, it’s only a matter of time.”
A knock sounded at the door and a nurse in festive Snoopy scrubs came in. She held up a digital thermometer with an apologetic smile. “Sorry, folks, but I need to check the patient’s vitals.”
Keely walked over to Zoey, still drawing with great fervor, and crouched in front of her. “We need to go, sweetie.”
Zoey held up a picture of a pink dog.
