Page 39 of The Mountain Man's Mail-Order Wife
Chief Yunker has one of his officers clearing the way with sirens and lights, and every time we pass a car pulled over, I clench my hands tighter.
I can’t think about what’s happening to Felix. Instead I’m focusing on what I tell him the second I see him.
He told me he loved me. I heard him. And even if he didn’t or it was a life-flashing-before-his-eyes confession he didn’t mean, I need to tell him I love him.
When it happened is anyone’s guess. There was no lightbulb moment. No lightning-bolt strike. I knew last night when he showed me the stars multiple times, but it wasn’t the extremepleasure he gave me that made me realize how I feel. It was the way he did it.
With care. With worship. With unrelenting determination. With a rough gentleness that defies logic.
Felix Wallis is the love of my life, and I can’t lose him.
“We won’t. He’s survived worse.”
Granger’s voice has my head snapping toward him. “Did I say that out loud?”
“Yes. Barely. But I know what you’re thinking. I’m thinking the same.” He keeps his eyes on the road. “When we lost his mother…”
“Your sister.”
“Yes. My sister. Ginger. When we lost her, I didn’t think I’d ever see the boy he was again. But since you arrived, I’ve seen glimpses. Only he’s a man now, shaped by all that’s happened to him, which includes you. I know my nephew; he meant what he said before he passed out. He’ll fight with everything he has to stay. For you.”
“Warren shot him.”
“He was trying to shoot you.”
I swallow. Roll my lips inward before saying, “It’s my fault.”
“No!” His gaze snaps to mine for a second before going back to the road. “The person at fault bled out on the sidewalk after Yunker shot him.”
“Warren’s dead?” How did I miss that?
“Yes. Yunker had the paramedics check him, but it was a chest and a head shot. No coming back from that.”
“And Felix’s wound?”
“Through and through side wound. Hopefully the bullet missed vital organs.”
“There was a lot of blood.”
“Yes. That’s probably why he passed out, that and pain. But they were already pumping it back into him before they tookoff. He’ll need surgery, more blood maybe. Depending on what damage the bullet did going through him will determine his recovery time.”
I turn to look out the side window and whisper, “I wish it was me.”
“I don’t. He’s strong, big; he can survive a bullet easier than you.”
It’s cold comfort to think Felix’s size is a benefit against a bullet. No one should need that advantage. I know guns are a normal thing in life but until today I’d never heard one and the only ones I’d seen in person were strapped to the belts of our local police officers.
“We’re almost there.”
Turning forward, I stare through the windshield and watch the hospital building grow bigger and bigger the closer we get. I don’t want to be here. Don’t want to know what they’re going to tell me when we get in there.
Except I don’t want to be anywhere else either.
I want to walk in there and ask to see my husband, be taken to him, and find him sitting up in bed, a smile on his face. His hand reaching out for mine.
When we get inside, I get none of that. The kind nurse directs us to a private waiting room and tells us he’s still in surgery. They’ll know more when he’s out but no, she doesn’t know when that will be.
The officer that gave us the siren and lights escort comes in with Granger’s keys and tells him where the truck is parked. Not that either of us will be needing it anytime soon. He also informs Granger the whole of Winter Lake sends their prayers and well wishes.
