After All (Cape Harbor #1)(65)

“Why isn’t she responding, Jason?”

He shook his head. “I don’t know. Is she sick? What medicines is she on?”

Before Brooklyn or Simone could answer, the local EMTs were on the beach and heading their way. They yelled for people to clear a path, and while one barked out questions, the other put an IV into Carly’s wrist. Within a few minutes they had her on a backboard and were carrying her toward the stairs.

“Wait, where are you taking her?” Brooklyn stopped them. She knew there wasn’t a hospital in town, only the office that her father used to work at. She remembered clearly that he used to be on call most of the weekends until he could hire another doctor to help fill in.

“Skagit Valley. Are you family?” Brooklyn nodded, but there was no way she could go with Carly and leave Brystol behind.

“Go,” Bowie said, standing next to her. His hand softly touching her arm. “I’ll bring Brystol. We’ll be right behind you.” Brooklyn sought confirmation from her daughter. Brystol’s expression told her nothing. What spoke volumes was her daughter’s white knuckles from the death grip she had on Luke’s leash. This dog was giving her daughter some peace of mind and comfort, something Brooklyn wasn’t capable of right now. “B.” Bowie’s voice was softer this time. He stepped forward, closing the gap between them. “I’d never let anything happen to her.”

She knew this, deep in her heart. But it still unnerved her to see her daughter so close to a man she had spent years hating. Brooklyn took off in a dead sprint, catching up to the ambulance before they shut the doors. She expected Simone to be in the back also, but it was just her and the EMT.

“Has she been sick?” he asked.

Brooklyn shook her head. “I just got to town not too long ago. Um . . .” Brooklyn pressed her hand to her forehead, trying to think. The truck hit a pothole, and Brooklyn slammed into the side, her arm banging hard against a protruding corner. She bit her lip to keep from crying out but couldn’t stop the tears.

The EMT reached across Carly for Brooklyn’s arm. He held it still with one hand while rifling through his supplies. He popped an ice pack over his knee and told her to hold it on her arm. She did as he instructed while he secured a bandage over it to hold it in place.

“Is this necessary?”

“Unfortunately, yes. Mostly precautionary, but since you were hurt in the ambulance, I have to treat you as well. Now back to my question: Has she been sick?”

Brooklyn inhaled deeply. “I don’t know. I suspected something was wrong, but we’re not exactly close. I’ve noticed tissues with blood on them in the bathroom, and yesterday she coughed up blood.”

“How much?” he asked without taking his eyes off Carly.

“What do you mean?”

“Was it just a drop of blood?”

She shook her head, but he wasn’t looking at her. “It was a lot. I mean for someone coughing. It was a lot of blood.”

He continued to monitor Carly. She remained unconscious, lifeless. Brooklyn took her frail hand in hers and bent over. She whispered a prayer, begging Austin to spare his mother a little bit longer so his daughter wouldn’t remember her grandmother this way.

Once they arrived at the hospital, everything moved quickly. Carly was rushed into the emergency room, and Brooklyn was told to stay in the waiting room. She stood there long after the doors closed, holding her arm and thinking about nothing. All her thoughts were lost, her mind blank. It was the sound of Bowie’s voice that brought her back to reality. They were in the hospital, and he was standing there with her daughter glued to his side, as if they’d known each other for years and not weeks . . . as if they meant something to each other.

In that moment, she realized that was exactly what she wanted. She wanted Brystol and Bowie to mean something to each other. She wanted Bowie to mean something to her. And if she was being honest, she even wanted to mean something to Bowie. Life hit her squarely in the chest as she stared at them. She should’ve never left, or at least she should’ve come back. Instead, she had run. She had run from her life, from her mistakes, and from her future. There wasn’t a doubt in her mind that she would’ve married Bowie if she had stayed, and that scared her now as much as it had back then. She knew that after Austin died, all she would have had to do was open the door and Bowie would’ve been there. He would’ve held her through her tears, guided her through her heartbreak, and been the hand she held while delivering her daughter. But she didn’t. She couldn’t. What had deterred her was her apprehension that Carly wouldn’t understand, that their friends would turn their backs on them. She hadn’t cared if they shunned her, but not Bowie. He would need them with Austin gone. Still, she longed for her best friend and the easy way he was able to comfort her.

He bent down and whispered into Brystol’s ear. Brooklyn saw her daughter smile, and she continued to hold that smile until she reached her. “Mommy, Nonnie will be okay.”

Brooklyn brought her daughter into her arms, careful not to bump the bandage, and worked hard to hold her sobs in. She didn’t want to cry in front of Brystol—she wanted to remain strong and hopeful—but the truth was, Carly was sick and hiding it from everyone. Brystol tightened her hold around her mother’s waist before pulling back.

“I’m going to go to the cafeteria and get a drink. Would you like something?”