Page 73 of The Cowboy Comes Home

Again he got that assessing look. “Sounds like a good idea,” the chief said. Then with a grin he added, “But you’ll have to clear it with Lobo’s boss first.” He turned and walked over to someone in hospital attire. He was back in just a moment. “They’ll let you in to see her as soon as they’ve got everything handled.”

“Thank you. Sir,” he added, meaning the respect.

“I have a feeling we’re going to have to discuss what you call me soon.” There was something in this man’s gaze, and Tucker wondered if anyone ever got anything past him. He doubted it. “Now I have to go talk to that slime who thought he could come down to Last Stand from the city and bring his trash with him. And then organize a ton of paperwork,” the chief said with a grimace. He stared to walk away, then looked back. “You’re a lucky guy, Tucker. She’s an incredible woman.”

Tucker stared after him as he headed out the door.

No, nothing got past Chief Shane Highwater.

Except the part where he wasn’t tough enough to deal with a cop’s life anymore. When he’d been a little kid, that his dad was one of the good guys had been exciting, because he was too young to understand the danger of it. But he’d learned, in the hardest possible way.

When they let him in to see her, his doubts had rebuilt enough that when he stepped beyond the drape that screened off the small area and saw her sitting upright, laughing with the nurse who was apparently taking her blood pressure, he felt a rush of relief all over again.

She looked up, saw him, and smiled so widely it almost stopped him in his tracks. She held out a hand to him—her left, he noticed—and it took him a moment to make that last step and take it. The feel of her, alive, warm, should have calmed him, but somehow it didn’t.

“I was about to call you,” she said, and he only then saw she did indeed have her phone in her hand. “How did you hear so fast?”

“Overheard,” he explained. “Two ladies in the bakery. I was about to buy dessert. And breakfast. Your favorite, the cherry ones.”

He knew he was babbling but he couldn’t seem to stop it. Anything was better than talking about why she was here.

Emily squeezed his fingers as she laughed, that light, pleased laugh that usually made him feel that all was right with his world. But it wasn’t right. Not when they were here in the emergency room, with medical personnel all over. But she was all right. She was sitting there, laughing, smiling at him. She was the Emily he knew.

The Emily he loved.

And the truth of that admission finally pounded home. He’d opened himself up to hell all over again. Because next time might be different. Next time he could be standing in this place getting the worst possible news. Just as he had before. He could hear the words, ringing in his head.

We’re so sorry, but Officer Culhane didn’t make it.

He’d been young. He’d had to figure out exactly what “didn’t make it” really meant. Everything after that was a blur, until the day he stood—alone, because his mother was too drugged up to stand—by a deep, dark hole in the ground and watched the box that held his father being lowered into it. He saw all the uniforms, heard all the official talk about him being so brave, a hero, and it all meant nothing. He didn’t care about a hero or some superman. He wanted his dad back.

And he never wanted to go to a police funeral again.

“—careful about reaching for things with my right hand for a few days, since it’s my right side.”

He snapped out of the agonizing memories that hadn’t been this vivid in years. Looked at Emily, who was still smiling.

“Now we’ll both have rib scars,” she said lightly.

“Stop treating this like it was nothing.” It came out low and harsh and he didn’t care.

“But it is, compared to what it could have been. I’ll be out of here in a couple of hours, once they’re sure everything’s stable,” she said, sounding a bit puzzled.

She didn’t get it. All she was seeing was that it was nothing a few stitches and some care couldn’t fix. She wasn’t seeing what it so very easily could have been. But he was. Because he’d lived it.

He had to get out of here. Even the nurse was staring at him, a little warily. “I’m going to go get Lobo. I’ll take him back to your place. He’ll be happier there.” He sucked in a breath and tried for some cheer. “Where he can leave black fur all over.”

“Tucker Culhane, if I could I’d give you the biggest hug right now,” she exclaimed, clearly delighted. “He’s the only reason this went down as well as it did tonight. If he hadn’t taken that other guy down—”

“I get it,” he said, his jaw clenching again. “Believe me, I get it.” With the sinking feeling that this last two weeks of bliss was all he was ever going to have with her, he took a step back. “I’m going for Lobo.”

It was all he could manage to say. He could feel her gaze on him as he walked away, as if it were a red-hot branding iron.

But it was nothing compared to the turmoil in his gut.

Chapter Thirty-Five

Emily ended thecall just as Nic walked in. Her friend was holding two steaming cups of hot chocolate, and Emily could have kissed her. She took a sip, savoring the warmth and the sweetness despite the fact that it was August in Texas.

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