Page 40 of Lucky Cowboy

“I’m her fiancé.” He didn’t know why he’d lied other than he’d never been so desperate to see another human being in his life.

Her face, which had been all stern lines prior to then, softened. “All right. Go down that left hallway. Ms. Bernard’s in the ICU. Room 5C, the door on your right.”

Three people huddled around Val’s bed where she lay with her eyes shut. The chemical taste of panic reasserted itself at the sight of them. But they wouldn’t have her in here if she’d died.

Right?

Mark had to clear his throat before he could speak. “What can you tell me?” But then before they could reply, he pushed on, too upset to control himself. “Is she all right? Will she recover?”

“Sheriff…” The woman in the white coat eyed the name on his uniform. “Talbot.”

“Yes. She’s my fiancée.”

“Well, Ms. Bernard has received a gunshot wound that entered through her left arm and exited through her left shoulder. It went straight through, and we found no leftover fragments. Also, it missed her ulna and radius, so that’s good news. She went into shock, and there was some blood loss. Not enough to require a transfusion, but some. She’ll need to stay off her feet for a few weeks.”

“I’ll see to it.” He’d do literally anything to make that true. “When will she wake up?”

“She’s no longer under, only sleeping. Although, I suggest you let her rest and come around when her body’s ready.”

The doctor and her nurses bustled toward the door to leave him alone with her, but not before one of the nurses in pink scrubs said, “Your fiancée is incredibly lucky, Sheriff Talbot.”

“I’m the lucky one,” he corrected her, silently adding on,As long as she wakes up.

Yet as tempted as he was to see those beautiful amber eyes of hers, he refrained from doing anything that might jar her. He waited and waited, taking a nearby plastic chair and dragging it over so he could sit beside her. Mark held her hand, noting that hers was too cold. Too pale.

By the time Val shifted, Mark had been watching her sleep for over a half-hour. She groaned in discomfort as she did, but even though that meant she was in pain, it also meant something he’d been aching to confirm. She really was alive.

Then, her gaze flitted to his. She blinked, looking confused. “Mark?”

He didn’t know why hearing her say his name struck him the way it did. Maybe it was how raspy it came out, or all the terror and waiting that had led up to this point. But as soon as she spoke, something went wrong inside him. The ache that had centered in his throat and chest erupted like a fireball, and before he even realized what was happening, he’d bent over her, weeping and overwhelmed.

CHAPTERTWENTY

Val knew Mark loved her.She’d believed it when he’d told her those three precious words. But witnessing him breaking down into ribcage rattling sobs for her hit Val much harder than she would’ve expected. Mostly because of how fiercely yet carefully he gripped onto her good hand as he cried into her bed sheets.

“I should’ve been here. I’m so sorry. So, so sorry,” his voice came to her half muffled, but she could make out his apology, nonetheless. And it simply wouldn’t do.

Her sheriff taking on responsibility for this on top of everything else wouldn’t be fair. Or even reasonable.

Moving her hand so that he’d release her, she kept her bad arm and shoulder immobilized, lifting his chin with the other.

“Hey. You listen to me. This isn’t your fault.”

More tears slid down his cheek to splash on her hand. It made the blue of his irises more vivid than ever. “It is.”

“Never argue with a woman in the Intensive Care Unit,” she said, hoping it’d make him chuckle, or at least crack a smile. It didn’t.

“I…” he tried to say something that would no doubt take the blame again, but she hindered this by pressing a finger to his lips.

“No. No more of that. There’s one man responsible for what happened, and it’s Biggs. Do you know what happened to him, by the way?”

He made to stand as if to check, but then sat back in his seat as if wanting to both be with her and do her bidding at the same time. Had she not been half numb and living with the rather alarming knowledge that she’d been shot, she might’ve found it cute.

But she didn’t. She couldn’t. Not now. Today had been a terrible, terrifying day, and she wasn’t in a place to make light of it just yet. Maybe not ever. Especially when the man she loved had a tears streaming down those rugged masculine features and past his swollen, red rimmed eyes.

Just witnessing that had her own eyes burning, but more with appreciation than trauma of what had transpired. Yes, it’d been horrifying. But Mark proving how much of a good man he was from the inside out, and how much dedication to her he felt was astounding.

“I just know that shots were fired,” he explained, and it became evident that while he’d gleaned as many of the details as possible, there was still plenty that remained unknown.

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