Chapter Sixteen
Her sister’s tone is shrill, which can only mean one thing.
Macey and I both stand up and turn around just as Riley rushes toward us, her blond hair flying out behind her head and her eyes wild with fear. Her boyfriend, Wink, is right behind her.
“I’ve been calling you,” Riley says immediately.
Macey pulls her phone out of her pocket at the same time I take out mine. “Shit. It must have died,” she says as I discover the same thing.
“What is it, Riles?” Macey’s arm goes around her in an instant.
“Daddy.”
My blood goes cold, and I step closer to them as Macey says, “What happened?”
“He’s had some sort of an accident. He was drinking, and…” Riley turns to me. “He rode a bicycle onto your ranch, and the bull was in the front pasture instead of the back. Daddy ran into him. Your brothers were close by, and they were able to get into the pasture and separate them quickly, but Daddy got gored pretty badly. He’s in the hospital. Unconscious with alcohol poisoning on top. Mama said they don’t know if he’ll pull through.”
Macey steps into her sandals, and then she starts moving so fast she’s a blur racing away from me.
“Are you going to be okay?” I ask Riley as I pull on my boots.
“I’ll take her to the hospital,” Wink assures me.
Riley nods. “Go after my sister,” she mutters to me. “We’ll meet you there.”
I take off, but I don’t catch Macey until she’s already crossed the street and has turned toward The Cowherd.
“Macey. Stop.” I use the only tone I know will slow her down, the one I reserve for moments like this.
Macey calls it my commanding voice, and even though I know she doesn’t want to, she stops running. She turns toward me, and the look on her face slays me.
The grief and guilt that she was out having fun while her father was, as usual, not behaving like a grown man should—she lets me see it all.
I approach her slowly like one would go up to a frightened animal.
Gripping her face in my hands, I say firmly, “Don’t shut me out. I know you just want to block out the world, but this is me. Let me in.”
Her breathing settles, and she stares up at me. Her eyes are filled with pain.
I pull her into my chest. “I’m not going anywhere. You know that.”
Her hands hold my t-shirt in a death grip. “I have to see him, and I need to check on my mother.”
“We’ll take my truck.”
She inches back so she can look at me. “Logan. You really don’t have to come…”
“I know that. I want to.”
We look at each other for a long moment. I see the instant that she cracks. Her whiskey eyes soften, and her mouth that’s set in a stubborn line, the kind of expression she only makes when she’s trying not to lose her shit—that disappears.
Her voice is shaky when she says, “Okay.”
