“Clearly,” her mother said.
“I mean it, Mom. If you happen to meet this guy, you’re gonna want it to be more. Hell, you’ll want to adopt him. But it’s not going to be like that. I really want you clear on it. Okay?”
“That pretty, is he?” She bit off another hunk of bread with a little growl, while smiling on one side.
Willow rolled her eyes, then said, “This meal is amazing.” She dug in, because she was thinking about those brown eyes again. Wolf Travail was definitely going through a rough patch. Whatever else he was remained to be seen.
At three a.m., Camellia’s cell phone buzzed repeatedly on the nightstand, and when she reached for it, she missed and knocked her water bottle to the floor. She got the phone on the second try, though, then blinked at its screen.
Text from an unknown number.
Hospital called. My mother is close. If you want to see her, come now.
She pushed her hair out of her face, squinting at the bright screen, and tapped out a reply.
Wolf
The pickup started on the first try. After sitting for a few hours, it usually took at least three cranks, and on a night this chilly, four. But tonight, it felt like the old truck knew.
Wolf wished he’d stayed somewhere closer to the hospital. He should have. It was only thirty minutes, but he and the truck shaved a few minutes off that time. There was plenty of parking near the main entrance. A nurse he didn’t know was waiting at the door and took him straight in, no ID check or sticky badge like usual. That told him things were dire.
When he arrived at his mom’s door, someone was already there at her bedside, holding her hand and speaking softly, herface hidden by a hank of honey-gold hair that had pulled free of its untidy pile.
Camellia Rio. She’d made it there before him.
“I’m doing what you asked, Cilla,” she was saying to his ma. Her voice was soft but clear, and she was leaning in close, as if to make sure she could hear. “I’ll help him all I can. He has the diaries, so he’ll know everything you wanted him to know. And he’s gonna be okay. I can tell.” Her thumb moved in slow motion across the back of her frail hand, a soothing caress. “He’s on his way. He’ll be here any minute, okay?”
“I’m here now, Ma.” He said it loud enough for her to hear as he stepped into the hospital room. Camellia lifted her head to look his way. Her cheeks were wet and her eyes were welling.
“He’s here, Cilla. Wolf is here.”
She backed out of the way as he moved up into her place beside the bed and covered his mom’s hand with his own. But before he leaned down to kiss her, Camellia’s hand fell on his shoulder, and her lips moved near his left ear. “I’ll hang around awhile.” And then she left the room, her footsteps soft on the floor.
Wolf looked at his mom, but she wasn’t the person in the bed. He thought most of Cilla was already gone from her poor, ravaged body. Still, Camellia had spoken to her as if she could hear. And if she could hear him at all, he knew the words she’d be longing for.
“I’m right here, Ma. I’m holding your hand. I know the truth. I know you found me in the river and pulled me out and saved my life and then devoted your own to raising me.”
Her eyes moved beneath their lids. The beeping of the machines picked up pace.
God, could she really hear him?
“It’s okay,” he said. “Everything’s okay. And I’m gonna be okay, too, I promise.”
Her eyes opened, green and clear and lucid and looking right into his.
“Thanks for pulling me out of the Rio Grande, Ma. I love you.”
Her lips pulled into the shadow of a smile, then parted and whispered what sounded like “love.” Then her pretty eyes closed, and Cilla Travail’s short and difficult life ended.
Camellia
Camellia hadn’t made it all the way to the waiting room when the steady beeps of Cilla’s monitor become a drone. Her heart lurched. She pivoted and ran back into the room just as Wolf straightened from his mother and turned toward the door, his face wet with tears.
She went in and hugged that man as hard as she’d ever hugged anyone in her life.
He didn’t move for a moment, and then he did. His arms came around her, and his head bent low and his chest heaved.
She held him for a long time, until at length, he took a deep, steadying breath and loosened his grip.
