Page 80 of Deputy Brand Gets Her Man
Her tears were streaming. “It wasn’t my intent. I couldn’t have known?—”
“You should’ve told me.” There was stark, bleeding hurt behind the anger in his eyes. “You should’ve trusted me.”
He picked up his clothes and slammed into the bathroom. When he came out again, dressed, he said, “Please stay with Beans, or if you have to leave, just?—”
“I got it. Go on.”
He left without saying goodbye, or looking her in the eye, or forgiving her. She sat there, her heart, soul, and body naked on the floor.
Jeremiah was wounded deep, but the urgency of the situation kept him distracted enough to wade through. He had to drive to El Paso, find a parking spot at the hospital, find the right entrance, and then look around for Juanita Lopez.
She wasn’t hard to spot, and she was there with a couple, tall and lean, nicely dressed, both Hispanic, and a thirty-something blond male who was sitting in a chair biting his nails.
“Jeremiah, thank goodness.” Juanita came to him, standing on tiptoe to hug him as if they were family now. She was four foot eleven at best.
He hugged her gently and asked, “How is she?”
“We’ve heard nothing yet,” she said, and she looked around him. “Where is Ethan? And Willow, she promised she would come.” Then, “Wait, wait, Sophia and Miguel Rodriguez, this is Jeremiah Thorne, our daughter Elena’s half-brother.”
Miguel came and shook his hand, but his wife only sent a wan smile. She was seated, and looked rather limp and shaky.
“We’re Elena’s adoptive parents,” Miguel said, then he turned to the other man, the blond one, who’d finally risen to his feet. He looked like he must be an actor. “This is her husband, Richie,” Miguel went on.
“Richard Montrose,” he said, giving a firm handshake.
Jeremiah nodded, then turned to Juanita. “Does anyone know what happened?”
“It was a hit and run,” Juanita said, a cry in her voice. “She jogs every evening, out past the county line.” She choked out the final word with a fresh flood of tears.
He swore under his breath and Ethan came around a corner with bed hair and his shirt buttoned crookedly. Something powerful moved through Jeremiah when his brother came up beside him and clapped a hand to his shoulder. “Willow called. What do we know? I heard that last bit, about the hit and run.”
Juanita said to the others, “This is the other brother, Ethan. Ethan, we haven’t heard…”
A pair of white-coated individuals arrived, a man and a woman, each with MD after the names on their badges, which were Gray and Cantrell.
“You’re Elena Montrose’s family? Asked the male, Dr. Gray, who was the color of his name.
They all said yes or Si and he spoke while the female, Dr. Cantrell, wore a look of weary patience.
“Well, she has some broken ribs, and a bruised spleen, which is our chief concern.” Dr. Gray paused there, and every eye in the place shifted to Dr. Cantrell.
She said. “We think she’s going to be okay. But we’ll keep her here tonight, watch her closely, and reassess tomorrow.”
Juanita started giving thanks in Spanish, and the couple hugged. Elena’s husband lowered his forehead into his hand.
“You can see her,” Dr. Cantrell went on. “Just two at a time, though, and since there are so many, let’s say ten minutes each. She needs rest.”
“We’ll go last,” Jeremiah said. “You folks, you go on in, see your daughter.”
Sophia, the adoptive mother, took Juanita’s hand. “Mothers first,” she said firmly. “And if we take more than ten minutes, you can deduct it from the others.”
Juanita clasped her hand and they exchanged a determined look, pasted smiles on their faces, and marched down the hall to their daughter’s room.
Ethan and Jeremiah went over by the vending machines, away from Elena’s husband and father. “Willow called me,” Ethan said. “Can you even believe this? We had a sister nearby, all this time? And we didn’t even know?”
“Apparently Elena didn’t know either. Not until last night when her mother told her. Willow’s known for I don’t know how long.”
“She only got confirmation yesterday,” Ethan said.
