Page 52 of Wistful in Wyoming
Relief coursed through him as he practically ran across the room with Grady on his heels. Jeremiah’s cousin put a hand on his arm. “Hey, I’m glad he’s going to be okay. You go on in and reassure yourself, but I’m going to need to talk to him in a few minutes with one of my detectives who’s on the way. I’m just going to make a few phone calls first. All right?”
He nodded. “Yeah, sure. Thanks.”
The nurse held open the door for Jeremiah and then pointed to the far end of the treatment area. “He’s in that room down there in the first bed, resting comfortably with the pain medications we gave him.”
“Thank God.” He moved to stride down the open area between closed-curtain cubicles but then stopped and glanced back. “And thank you too.”
“My pleasure.”
Jeremiah entered the room the nurse had indicated and peeked around a curtain to see if he was in the right place. He swallowed a gasp at the sight of Dale laying still and pale on the gurney, a white blanket on top of him and tucked around his shoulders. His eyes were closed, and there was a small cut and a knot high above his right ear. An angry purple bruise had formed on his jaw, and his bottom lip was split. An IV line ran from one arm to a pole, and leads snaked out from under the blanket to a heart monitor that beeped in a steady, comforting rhythm.
After sliding the curtain shut behind him, Jeremiah pulled a lone chair closer to the bed and sat. He removed his hat, setting it gently on the bed beside Dale’s leg, and then reached out and carefully took Dale’s hand, being mindful of the IV catheter and his split, bloody, and bruised knuckles. His man hadn’t gone down without a helluva fight.
“Oh, baby ...” Jeremiah whispered, not wanting to disturb Dale’s rest but unable to hold in his grief, worry, and rage anymore. Jeremiah had waited over forty years for the man who would steal his heart, and in the blink of an eye, he’d almost lost him. He wished Grady would give him five minutes alone with each of those bastards, so he could rip them apart.
When he’d gotten the call from Ducky, alerting him to the fight, Jeremiah had been out of his mind with fear. He’d raced into town just in time to see a bloodied Dale on a stretcher, his shirt cut open, being loaded into the ambulance. Meanwhile, Grady and several of his deputies had the three other men in cuffs. A large crowd had gathered, and there’d been a pool of blood on the cement walkway near the entrance to the feed store. Jeremiah swore his heart had stopped right then. He hadn’t had time to get out of his truck before the ambulance had taken off with its lights flashing and siren blaring, so he’d followed it straight to the hospital, breaking a few traffic laws along the way. Not that he cared. Nothing else had mattered at that time except getting to the man he’d fallen in love with and finding out how badly he’d been hurt.
“Jay...” Dale struggled to speak, his eyelids fluttering open as the heart monitor beeped faster.
“Shh, baby. Relax. Everything is okay.” Jeremiah kissed the tips of Dale’s fingers, then used his free hand to gently stroke the man’s forehead.
“I’m so glad you’re here.” With his eyes unfocused, Dale’s voice had a soft and dreamy quality that Jeremiah assumed was coming from the painkillers.
“Of course, I’m here. I was so worried about you.”
Dale gave him a big, dopey grin. “I got my ass kicked, didn’t I?”
Jeremiah huffed then chuckled. “From what Grady told me, you held your own until the knife came out.”
“Yeah, fuckin’ cheater.” Dale pulled his hand free from Jeremiah’s grip, then reached up and cupped his jaw. Jeremiah closed his eyes and leaned into the touch, relief a living, breathing entity inside him. Dale’s thumb caressed his cheek. “God damn, cowboy, you’re so damn pretty. Those freckles drive me crazy.”
A snort escaped him before a grin spread across his face. “You’re high.”
“Probably. It feels awesome—I’m floatin’. You know what else is awesome?” Dale wiggled around, pushing the blanket down to his waist, exposing his bare torso. They hadn’t put one of those useless gowns on him, so a dark bruise that’d formed over Dale’s right rib cage was visible. Lower than that, a large, clean, white dressing covered what Jeremiah assumed was the stitched-up knife wound.
“It’s so damn hot in here,” Dale complained. “Fuck. Wait, that’s not awesome. That’s not what I meant.” That dopey smile was back. “You, Jeremiah Peter ... um, Peter . . . Peter-Pumpkin-Eater . . . uh, Urban—that’s it! Sorry, babe. Anyway, you’re awesome. You’re an awesome person. You’re awesome in the sack. You’re an awesome boyfriend. Just ... wow. You blow my mind, baby. Everything about you is ...”
He trailed off, his eyes glassy and staring at the ceiling, as he limply rotated his hand in the air. “Fuck, what’s the word I’m looking for?”
Jeremiah’s whole body was shaking as his tried not to burst out laughing and disturb any other patients. “Awesome?” he supplied with a giggle.
His gaze dropped to the large bandage again, and all the mirth from a moment ago drained from him. Swallowing thickly, he met Dale’s stoned gaze, giving up the fight against his tears and letting a few run down his face.
“Aw. Don’t cry, Jay.” Dale crooked his finger at Jeremiah. “C’mere. Gimme some sugar, cowboy.”
Leaning forward, he kissed Dale, trying to be careful, but his lover wasn’t having it. The man grabbed him by the ears and jerked him forward, smashing their mouths together.
Mumph.
Dale let him go as quickly as he’d grabbed him. He suddenly looked sober. “I thought of you, you know? When I fell, Jay, and I thought I was gonna bleed to death on that sidewalk, my last thought was of you and how much I love you.”
“Oh, Dale, I love you too.” He leaned forward, resting his forehead on Dale’s shoulder. “I almost lost you today. The thought of never seeing you again ... God, I wanted to die with you.”
“I’m here, baby, I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere.” Dale ran his fingers through Jeremiah’s hair, petting and soothing him. Then the drugs kicked in again. “Nothing can take me away from you, not even death. I’d haunt the hell out of you. Spy on you in the shower and shit.”
Laughing past his tears, Jeremiah kissed the bare skin of Dale’s shoulder, breathing his scent deep into his lungs and holding it there. He wanted Dale to be a part of him, and in turn, he needed to be a part of Dale. “I’d rather have you alive and well, and you can watch me in the shower any time you want, as long as you get in there with me.”
“It’s a deal, Jay.” Dale’s heavy eyelids closed as the painkillers dragged him toward sleep once more. “Fuck me—these drugs are ...”
