He thought of mistakes he had and would make with Zoey; understood how hard it all was. Realized that his mom was right. No one knows what they’re doing.
Be there, shepherd them, that’s enough.
It was Brodie’s turn now, to do it his way.
Looking down at his dad, he felt an overriding passion to protect this man, to make him feel safe and loved and unafraid, at a time when terror flooded icy through his own veins. “It’s okay,” he kept saying, holding his dad’s hand tight in his. He could hear his mom’s running footsteps approaching. “An ambulance is coming. It’ll be okay,” he said, whether he believed it or not. And as he said it, calm and gentle, fatherly, trying to keep his own panic at bay, he felt his dad’s hand squeeze lightly back.
ChapterForty-Five
“Maeve!” Brodie jumped out of his plastic hospital chair when he saw her. He looked dreadful. Tired, stressed, hair all over the place, eyes dark. “What’s going on? What’s happening.”
“I can’t tell you anything you don’t already know, Brodie,” she said, as she came out of the ER.
It had been a shock when Emmett Carter was brought in with a heart attack. He wasn’t Maeve’s patient, but she’d kept an eye on what was happening, making extra special sure that he was given the best care.
The first opportunity she had, she went out to see the Carters, uncertain who would be there waiting. Surprised when the first person she saw was Brodie. It meant he must have been nearby when it happened, back in Autumn Falls. The thought occurred to her, but she filed it away for later, not appropriate right then to be thinking about what—if anything—was going on between them. Her message had been read but remained unanswered. If it wasn’t for the current circumstances, she might feel foolish in front of him for sending it. Logan was there, too, and Noah. Martha was in her Silver Pantry apron, clutching a Kleenex in her hands, trembling lips pressed together.
Maeve hated it, seeing them all like this, not being able to say anything to make it better. “The next twenty-four hours are critical.”
Brodie nodded, eyes alert like they were absorbing every little detail, every scrap of knowledge. She found herself wanting to touch him, put her hand on his arm, maybe round his neck, hold him close.
It was Logan who said, “Is he going to be okay, Maeve?”
“I can’t tell you that, Logan, I’m sorry.”
Martha let out a small sob and Noah put his arm around her.
“All I can say is that they’re doing everything they can. He’s in the best hands.” Maeve could picture Emmett, ghostly pale. Suddenly a shadow of a man.
“Thanks, Maeve,” Brodie said, looking at her gratefully. “We really appreciate it.”
“I’m sorry that I can’t give you any more news than that.”
Brodie shook his head. “Just you being here is a relief.”
Maeve smiled. He looked so pained and tired. “I’m sorry, Brodie.”
He put his hand on her arm and steered her away from the others. “It’s me that’s sorry,” he said, when they were out of earshot. “I’m sorry I left. I got spooked. I panicked. I’m sorry?—”
Maeve cut him off. “Don’t, Brodie, you don’t have to say any of this now.” She tilted her head as she looked at him, ashen-faced and distracted. She had been mad with him for disappearing, but all she could see was his fear for his father. The futility of life right there in front of them made it almost impossible to look at him with anything other than tenderness. “Just concentrate on your dad. Don’t worry about me or Zoey, we’re okay.”
He took in a shaky breath, then he smiled appreciatively and she saw a little of the old Brodie. “Thanks.”
She smiled softly back. “Stay with your family,” she said, before returning to the ER.
* * *
The next time Maeve saw Brodie, she was on a break. Emmett was in surgery.
All the family were sitting in the waiting room, with various expressions of concern. Ren was there now, sitting with Noah, wearing her paint-splattered dungarees.
When Maeve appeared, all their heads shot up when she came out like she could give them some golden-ticket answer when all she could say was, “The surgeon doing the operation, he’s one of the best there is at what he does. Emmett couldn’t be in better care, I promise.”
It wasn’t much, but even just those words seemed to give them a little of the reassurance they craved.
She was about to go back, but instead, a little apprehensive, she went and took a seat next to Brodie. “You okay?”
It was weird not seeing him all smiles. “I would like to talk to him, you know? I don’t want what we had to be it,” he said.
