For all those hours Colby was in surgery, she’d paced. Worrying.
Wondering. When she’d received the news he’d pulled through, she’d curled into a ball and wept. Colby was alive. That was all that mattered.
“Channing?”
She looked up when Gemma plopped beside her on the dilapidated loveseat but she couldn’t muster a smile. “Yeah?”
“It’s been hours. You want something to eat?”
“No. I’d just throw it up. Thanks, though.”
“Okay. That’s fine. How long do you want to stay here?”
“Until I can see him. Let me rephrase that. Until I can see him in private. Without me having to explain who I am to his family.” Not that she knew who she was to Colby.
His words mine mine mine echoed in her head.
But what did that mean?
“You realize that might not be for a day or two. The McKays have all but circled the wagons ‘round him. Cord, Colton and Carter will all be here tomorrow.”
Crap.
Gemma frowned. “Why do you say that?”
Channing wasn’t aware she’d muttered the word aloud. “Because me sticking around wasn’t part of our arrangement. Colby and I had always planned to part ways after Cheyenne. Now is just as good a time as any for me to leave.”
Gemma’s eyes froze into chips of ice. “You’re just gonna take off like nothing’s happened? Like it don’t matter he’s laying unconscious and beat up and practically dead in a hospital bed?”
Channing winced at Gemma’s hard slap of words. “No. But maybe you’d like to give me a chance to explain myself before you go jumping to conclusions.”
“Fine. I’m listening. But even you gotta admit things are different now.”
“Yeah, they’re probably worse, Gem.” Channing leaned against the concrete wall and resisted beating her head into it. She closed her eyes.
“How long is Colby going to be in the hospital? A week? Two? When he’s well enough to leave, he’ll have to return home to the ranch because he won’t be able to take care of himself. His family will expect to do that, as they should. You really think they’ll want me—a strange woman from the East Coast—around?
“Do you think Colby will want me underfoot? God. When he was injured in Greeley he’d get all pissy whenever I fussed around him. The man is stubborn. And proud. He didn’t want me to see him as weak so he took chances he shouldn’t have. That injury wasn’t nearly as serious as this one is. He’ll have months of physical therapy, months of being dependent on others. So if I drop everything in my life and move to Wyoming to help take care of him, he’ll resent me. I know he will. I couldn’t stand that, Gemma. He’s too important to me.” Her voice broke.
Gemma pressed Channing’s head to her shoulder and let her cry.
When the worst of the jag was over, Gemma smoothed the hair from Channing’s damp cheek. “You know, I’d like to argue with you and say you’re wrong, but I have a sneaking suspicion you’re exactly right.”
“I wish I wasn’t.”
“Me too.” Gemma handed her another Kleenex. “I’m sorry I was hard on you.”
“That’s what friends do, Gem.”
They stayed locked in silence for a while. Gemma sighed and scooted away. “So what are you gonna do, girlie?”
“Same thing I’ve been doing, I guess. Hide out until Colby’s family leaves and then I’ll sneak in to see him. After that, I have some things to deal with at home that I’ve been putting off.”
“You gonna stay there? Back on the coast where your folks live?”
Probably not. “I don’t know.”
“Remember, my door is always open. If things don’t work out for you with your family or your job, look me up. I can always use another set of hands to muck out horse stalls. The company would be nice too, Chan.
I’m gonna miss you.”
Channing actually smiled for the first time in hours. “Thanks.”
“No problem. This whole situation sucks all the way around.” Gemma stood. “Call my cell when you’re done here and I’ll come get you and take you to the airport.”
Channing nodded.
Hours passed. Trevor, Cash, Edgard and several other cowboys on the circuit came and went. She watched from the shadows at end of the corridor. No one paid any attention to her. She’d spent her whole life blending into the background and she was damn good at it.
Around five a.m. Channing was jostled awake. She blinked up into Keely McKay’s curious blue eyes.
“Channing, right? Gemma told me to keep an eye on you. My folks are gone. Colby isn’t awake, but he is alone if you want to see him.”
“Thank you,” she whispered.
The room was small and filled with a medicinal stench. A ghostly sound of Colby’s breathing apparatus echoed, as well as the constant beep beep of the machines keeping him alive.
Channing bit her tongue hard to stop a gasp from escaping.
His leg was in a cast. Most of the rest of his body was covered up with blankets. He had tubes in both arms. He didn’t look frail; he looked…like a wounded warrior.
She approached the side of Colby’s bed, curling her fingers around the metal railing. Her tears fell. “Oh, cowboy. Ain’t you a sight for sore eyes.”
No response.
She brushed her fingertips across the scraped-up knuckles on his hand and studied his unconscious face for the longest time, hoping for a sign of some kind.
Increased activity in the hallway signaled it was time for her to go.
Channing kissed his forehead and moved her lips to his ear. “Get better soon. When you’re back on your feet, cowboy, come looking for me because I’ll be waiting. No matter where I am or what I’m doing I’ll be waiting for you. For as long as it takes. And I’ll say the words you were so hell bent on hearing from me last night. I love you, Colby McKay. Don’t you ever forget it. I’ll say it again. I love you.”
Walking away from him was the hardest thing she’d ever done, even when she knew it was for the best. For now.
Chapter Twenty-One
One week later…
Trevor sipped his fourth beer and watched Edgard loading the last of his tack in his luggage. “You sure you don’t wanna take that saddle? It’s awful damn nice. Nicer than mine.”
“No. You can have it. Or you can sell it. I don’t care either way.”