Our Finest Hour (The Time #1)(82)

“Claire and I are here, at the hospital.”

“I’m on my way.”

“Drive safe,” Isaac says. “Don’t rush. He’s stable. The mountain didn’t kill him, but if anything happened to you, that would.”

“I’ll be there soon. Please give Claire a hug for me.” Suddenly all I want is to hold my baby girl, feel her soft, sweet warmth and smell the top of her head.

We hang up and I drive. I’m safe heading down the mountain but I go faster than normal. I’m no doctor, but I think right now my elevated heart rate probably matches the number on my speedometer.

And my mother is the very last thing on my mind.



The hospital is a flurry of activity, and it takes a few minutes for the people at the front desk to tell me what floor my dad’s on. My outfit distracted them almost as much as the night clerk at the hotel.

The elevator lets me off on the third floor. I creep past rooms, reading the numbers, until Claire yells, “Mommy!”

I find her down the long, white hall, footsteps thundering. Isaac’s a few feet behind her.

Hurrying forward, I gather a leaping Claire into my arms. “Baby,” I breathe, the tears springing back up.

“Grandpa is hurt, Mommy.” Claire’s tone is solemn, her small hands coming to rest on my cheeks. Eyes wide, she continues. “His leg is in a soft cast, and I’m not allowed to touch it. And his face looks funny. It’s a different color.”

“Bruised,” Isaac clarifies, reaching us.

I shift Claire onto my hip and step into him. I want his touch, his smell, I want everything he can give me.

His arms wind around me and Claire, holding us both.

“Hi,” he whispers into my ear.

I press my face harder into his chest. “Isaac, I’m so sorry. The way I left—”

“Shh, it’s OK. I know.” The rumble of his voice in his chest comforts me.

“Aubrey, what can we do for you? Food? Coffee?” A woman speaks up behind Isaac. Lucia?

I peel myself off Isaac, and he steps and turns so he’s beside me, but his left arm stays around my waist. Lucia and Paul wait for me to say something.

“You guys…are here?”

“Where else would we be?” Lucia smiles, and I know her question isn’t one that needs answering. “Here, let me take Claire so you can see your father.” She steps forward, hands out.

I hand off my daughter, turning to Isaac. He knows what I’m asking. Grabbing my hand, he leads me four doors down to my father’s room. He kisses the top of my head and says softly, “You’ve got this.”

I step in, terrified of what I’m about to see. My dad the ex-Marine, my dad the mountain lion hunter, the man who stepped up when my mother ran.

The bed seems too small for his large frame, or maybe it’s his presence that’s too large for this small room. Either way, he looks out of place. His eyes are closed, a blanket covers his lower half, but one side is bulky. Claire was right about his face. The left side is swollen, the reddish pink on his cheek beginning to change to dark purple.

I step closer until I’m beside his bed. Bandages crisscross his arms, and more bruises darken his skin.

“Daddy,” I whisper, shocked. How many times have I seen him come in from the garage and calmly tell me he’s running out to grab a splint because he hit his thumb with a hammer? I’ve never even seen the man take a sick day.

“Aubs,” he says, opening his eyes. His left eye twitches with the effort.

“Dad.” My arms rise automatically, but I don’t know if I can hug him, so I drop them and place a kiss on the right side of his forehead. “What happened?”

“Oh, you know, took a tumble down a mountain.” He grumbles. “Not anything I haven’t done before.”

I take a deep breath and try not to picture my dad falling. “How did you get help?”

“Another hunter came along after a while. Neither of us could get a signal because we were down in the bottom of a dry creek bed, so he hiked to the top and called for help.”

“What did you do while he was doing all that?”

“I stayed put.”

I lift my eyes to the ceiling and laugh. “Obviously. I mean, did you take care of yourself? Stop the bleeding on your arms?”

He nods. “My backpack was clipped across my chest, so it stayed on when I fell. Before the guy left to get a call out, he gave me the first aid kit from my pack.”

“Where is the person who helped you?”

“I don’t know. The last time I saw him was from the inside of the helicopter. He was standing back aways and waved at me.”

Helicopter… I didn’t even think about how he was rescued. Tears spring to my eyes again as I imagine my dad lying helpless in a creek bed.

“Dad,” I say, my voice breaking.

“I’m fine, Aubs. Really. They’ve got me here, and I’m all doped up. Can’t feel a thing. Isaac’s been making sure they take real good care of me.”

Isaac. The fixer. He was here. And I wasn’t. All because I was chasing a ghost.

“Isaac told me where you went. Sounds like I wasn’t the only person hunting in the past twenty-four hours.” My dad gives me a look.

I nod slowly, remembering my mother’s open face and friendly disposition. It doesn’t hurt though. Not like I thought it would.