Prologue
COLT
SEVEN YEARS EARLIER
“Any updates?” my dad asks, knocking me out of my living nightmare. I didn’t notice them walking in, so deep in my own thoughts, what the fuck, how the fuck, and who the fuck keeps replaying in my head over and over again.
“The neighbors heard the crash, said they could hear it a mile up the road, sirens blaring, that it was a scene out of a horror movie,” Mom adds. Dad is right beside her when I finally look up. I’d had my head bowed, forearms resting on the top of my thighs while attempting to hide the emotion clogging my throat ever since I’d been updated. Needless to say, my knees fucking buckled so hard I nearly hit the ground.
Whatever they see written on my face must tell them all they need to hear. I stand and start heading their way, meeting them in the middle. Not for the first time am I thankful for the small-town community hospital that’s luckily not packed with people. Especially with the news I’m about to deliver. It’s going to be a devastating blow, having to relay the words the doctors gave me moments ago won’t be easy.
“Kara’s in surgery.” I’d gotten the call first. They didn’t realize who was in the accident until a sheriff knocked on their door. From there, my parents called me, and I droppedeverything to get my ass here. They were an hour away, at a dinner and a show in the big city for their anniversary.
“How bad?” Dad asks.
“Shattered femur and hip fracture. The latter will take time to heal. The femur is going to require rods and a plate. She’s got a long road ahead of her that will likely lead to a permanent limp caused by a leg length difference. They’re not sure what all it’ll entail until they see how she heals.” I swallow down the lump in my throat. My sister will recover, she’s strong, but she also wasn’t driving and didn’t receive the impact on her side.
“Christ. What about Brooke?” Mom lets out a gasp when she sees whatever a mother sees on their child’s face. It must be one of inner turmoil, because my guts feel like they're twisted in knots. My heart hasn’t stopped racing, and my world hasn’t stopped spinning.
“She’s—” I take a moment to regain my composure. Mom is going to lose it, so will Dad. And fuck, I already have, which is the reason why my jaw aches from clenching it to keep myself from falling apart. “Brooke is gone, Mom. They worked on her until they couldn’t anymore.” She moves away from Dad and wraps her arms around my waist, not giving a single shit that I’m still in my work clothes and more or less getting grease on her best clothes.
“Both of them?” Dad asks. My eyes are closed, and when a tear slides down my cheek, I don’t bother to wipe it away. Instead, I hold my mom to me. She needs me, and hell if I don’t need her, too.
“They’re working on delivering the baby now.” Mom weeps harder. Dad rocks back on his heels like he received a shot to his chest. Which is entirely the way I’m feeling. My baby could have died and still might not make it. She’s coming five weeks early. Her lungs aren’t fully developed, and there’s a good chance she’ll be in the neonatal intensive care unit for a minimum of a month.While Brooke and I couldn’t make a go of our relationship, it doesn’t hurt any less to know our daughter will live a life without her mom or to know I’ll be doing this alone without her there.
Kara and Brooke were heading to our parents’ home for the night after they spent their evening together. A standing girls' night of sorts, where they’d meet after work, grab a bite to eat, and do what they do best: gab about their day. My relationship with Brooke might not have worked out, but she’d always be a part of our family. We ended things cordially, picked a name out for our daughter, and while the specifics about custody or child support hadn’t been decided, we both knew we’d make it work, no matter what.
Brooke’s family was always a volatile mess. They never talked, pretty much all that ensued was yelling. She didn’t want that, and I’d never live a life where I’d have to relentlessly walk on eggshells. Kara took to her like a built-in sister of sorts, and even if a child hadn’t been involved, they’d still have ended up friends.
What none of us were prepared for was a call like tonight, a head-on collision due to a driver driving the wrong way. The rural area in which my parents live means there aren’t any street lights, so things can get confusing if you’re not from around our parts. And with the snowbirds, along with the influx of tourists, well, it’s sad to say that this isn’t the first time something like this has happened.
Mom pulls back, her hands instantly cup my cheeks, and I dip my knees to get on her level.
“I know you’re not okay. Neither am I, and neither is your father. What we will do is get through this. We’re with you every step of the way, and the same goes for our grandbaby, Nellie, and your sister. We Barlows can handle anything together.” Dad pulls Mom back into his side, wrapping his arm around her shoulder. It may seem as if he’s supporting his wife, but she’salso supporting him. They have this way about them, a kindred type of love that they’ve had from the very beginning. At least that’s the story they tell. It’s something I’ve wanted for myself, something I hadn’t found in Brooke and she hadn’t found in me.
Dad’s other hand grabs my shoulder, giving me a firm squeeze. He doesn’t say a lot, he doesn’t need to. His grip and the look in his red eyes, nearly bloodshot, say enough. I give him a small nod, and he understands me all too well.
“Family of Kara Barlow?” We all look in the direction of the voice. I’m thankful for the news about my sister, but I’d be a damn liar if I weren’t more than ready to hear about Nellie.
“That’s us,” Dad replies, corralling us closer to the guy wearing a white coat.
“Colt Barlow?” I look from my parents to what I’m assuming is a nurse, judging by the scrubs and lack of coat.
“Go. We’ll figure out what’s going on here, then meet up with you.” Mom realizes I’m being pulled in both directions, and while it’d be nice to have my parents for support with whatever news I’m about to receive, I can do this on my own. Besides, my unborn daughter is already all alone, and if anyone needs somebody, it’s her.
“I’m Colt.” I dig my hands in my pockets, wondering what news she’s going to deliver to me.
“I’m Samantha. Are you ready to meet your baby girl?” I’m unable to formulate words. The news of everything is hitting me all at once, and all I’m left to do is bob my head in answer.
“Sorry, yeah.” I look over my shoulder. Dad lifts his chin, and I do the same. He gets the silent message that I’ll be back out when I can.
“No need to apologize. I’m sure this has been quite the shock. If you’ll follow me back, we’ll have you with her in no time.” She continues to talk on our way through the halls, more than likely realizing the nerves rolling off me are a lot like the wavesin the ocean during a storm—tumultuous and never-ending. It’s not until we're at the entrance to the room that the outside noise disappears, and the only thing I’m focused on is my baby girl. She’s in a clear incubator and so damn tiny, wearing nothing but a diaper and connected to monitors of some sort. I’m right in front of her in a few short steps.
“Shit. I need to wash my hands. My clothes are a wreck, and I need to know what I can and can’t do.” I’m talking to the nurse but am looking at Nellie. If my heart could beat out of my chest, it’d surely be doing so now.
“I’m going to grab the doctor. In the meantime, there’s a sink over there, and I’ll grab you a scrub top. Once I’m back in the room with the doctor, we’ll work on you holding her. Until then, you can hold her hand or touch her. I won’t be but a jiff.” The minute the nurse leaves, I wash my hands, scrubbing them three times, going above and beyond to get rid of any traces of grease on my skin and beneath my nails. Then I head right back to where my girl is, hesitant at first, worried I’ll hurt her with my fucked-up way of thinking, but the minute my thumb glides along Nellie’s tiny fingers, she settles a tiny bit. No longer is she squirming, and I, well, even with the weight of the heaviness from this evening, I feel like I’ve got all I’ll ever need right in front of me in the form of a five-pound-and-some-change baby girl.
“I love you, Nellie. I’ll be the best father I can be, and I’ll never let you forget your mom.” The promise slides off my lips, and I know I’ll do anything I can to make it one I’ll never go back on.
