How (Not) to Fall in Love(93)

“No.” My voice wobbled. “I’ll do it.” The sheriff had wanted to call Mom himself, but I’d insisted that I do it. If a sheriff had called her, she’d have keeled right over. Or started drinking again.

“Please don’t say his name over the emergency radio,” I’d begged the sheriff. I couldn’t handle reporters showing up at the hospital.

“You really need your mother,” he’d insisted. “You’re a minor, technically. I don’t want to call social services. You’ve been through enough. I can see that.”

“She’ll come, I swear she will. I’ll call her from the ambulance.”

My phone shook in my trembling hands as I tried to balance on the bench seat as we flew down the highway. I decided to call Charlie, since he’d be calmer than Mom.

“Charlie.” My voice was strangled with suppressed tears. I wanted so badly to break down. But I couldn’t, not yet.

“Tell me where you are.” His voice was sharp with worry. I knew he heard the sirens.

“Cheyenne. The hospital.” I looked at the EMT for help.

“The Regional Medical Center,” he said.

I repeated it to Charlie.

“Ty?” Charlie said. “Is he—”

“He’s not dead. But he’s sick, Charlie.”

So very, very sick.

“We’re leaving right now.”

I told the doctor what had happened, describing Dad’s behavior since I’d found him.

“He’s malnourished and dehydrated,” the doctor told me. “We’re getting liquids into him now.” He paused and looked at me. “When will your mother be here?”

“Soon,” I said. “They’re driving up from Denver.”

He nodded. “We’ll talk more then. Have the nurse page me when your mom arrives.”

I nodded and wandered to a small waiting room outside the ICU. It was blissfully quiet. I sank onto a couch and dropped my head in my hands. Breathe. Just breathe.

After what seemed like hours, the sound of running feet made me look up. It was Mom, with Charlie and Lucas close behind her. They burst into the waiting room. Mom grabbed me, crying and exclaiming. Charlie hugged me next, telling me everything would be okay. Finally it was Lucas’s turn. His body was like a taut wire, holding me so close I could hardly breathe. He didn’t speak, but he didn’t let me out of his grip.

The sheriff came into the room and calmed everyone down. He told Mom about my 911 call and the condition my dad was in when he’d found us on the highway. He asked if I felt able to make a formal statement, to tell him what had happened since I’d found my dad at the henge with the hippies.

“Does she have to do that right now?” Charlie asked, looking like a protective archangel.

Lucas’s arm tightened around me as we sat on the vinyl couch. I glanced at him and saw his jaw clench. He’d hardly said a word since he’d arrived but he hadn’t let me out of his grip.

“She’s exhausted,” my mom protested. “Can’t we do this later?”

The sheriff sighed. “I know the doctor wants to see you right away,” he said to my mom. “I can wait a little while.”

“Thank you,” my mom breathed. She turned her tear-filled eyes to mine.

The doctor arrived, looking slightly taken aback at the room full of people.

“Are you all related to Mr. Covington?” he asked.

My mom shot a glance at Lucas, then looked at the doctor. Her shoulders straightened and her eyes narrowed. “Yes.” She paused. “This is his family.”

I sagged against Lucas’s chest and felt his heart pounding.

The doctor raised an eyebrow. “All right.” He glanced at me, then my mother. “Your daughter found your husband, as you know. He was in bad shape. It’s a good thing she got to him when she did. His physical condition isn’t good.” He paused. “But we can fix that. However, his mental condition…” He looked into my mother’s eyes. “He’s not well, Mrs. Covington. We need to do a psych evaluation.” He hesitated. “Nervous breakdown isn’t an official medical diagnosis, but it’s the easiest way to explain it, until you meet with the psychiatrist and hear it from her. I’m guessing acute stress disorder, possibly dissociation.”

My mother nodded. She didn’t look shocked. “Do what you need to, doctor.”

“He’ll need to stay here for a while.”

“Then so will I,” Mom said, her voice strong and clear.

The sheriff returned and I told him my story. Lucas brought me cinnamon tea from the cafeteria. He sat across from me and watched me with burning intensity while I talked. When I got to the part about the henge builder with the gun, Lucas swore under his breath. Mom gasped. Charlie dropped his head to his hands. Finally I finished. The sheriff snapped his notebook closed. He looked around the room, his gaze resting on me.

“You’re a very brave young lady. You probably saved your father’s life. If he’d kept wandering, in his condition…”

Mom started crying again. Charlie stood up and walked over to me, resting his hand on my shoulder. “She is her father’s daughter,” he said. “A force of nature.”

I stared at my lap. I didn’t feel like a force of nature. I felt like a worn-out rag doll.