The Country Duet(61)
The lights in the Emergency Room assault me. Everyone moves quickly into action, then everything becomes a blur. I fight to raise my hand. Teale is at my side seeing what I need.
“Dave. I need to see him tonight.”
“Baby, Dave is okay.”
“No, I visit him every single night. Doesn’t matter what’s going on. I need to see Dave.” My brows worry in frustration, then my body fights to get out of the bed even though my head slices in agony.
“I’ll go see him.” Teale strokes my shoulder. “I’ll go to Dave. You need to relax, baby. You have a severe head injury.”
“No, don’t leave me.” I grab her hand. “Teale, I walked out last time on you. Please, don’t leave me.”
She nods her head with certainty. “I’ll call the hospital he’s at and check in on him. Will that be enough?”
“Yes.” The word barely leaves my lips.
“I promise, Hunter.”
“Can I go to sleep now?” I ask with heavy lids.
“Baby, you can go to sleep. You have a severe concussion, there’s no brain bleed, and I called your mom.”
I nod with my eyelids closed. “Don’t leave me.”
“I’m not going to leave you.”
Chapter 10
Teale
“I’m going to show him what little girls are made of gunpowder and lead.”
-Miranda Lambert
“Mommy.”
One of my eyelids drags open.
“Mommy,” she sings out again, then a tiny finger pokes my nose.
I groan and then roll over, forcing my eyelids open. The soft morning light is piercing them with pain. But it’s Baker’s contagious and genuine smile that always keeps me going. She hops on my stomach and begins going a hundred miles a minute, like an average four-year-old going on five would.
She’s adjusted to living with me easier than expected. It killed me leaving her in California with Jerico and his family, but I knew I had to. The court order was the law, and by damn I was going to have my life in order to gain full custody of her.
“Mommy, are you wistening to me?” She pops her hand on her hip.
“Yes, yes.” I reach up and tap her nose. “You have preschool this afternoon while I work, and Grandpa will pick you up.”
“I wove that guy,” she replies with her dimples on full display.
Those dimples, the damn curse to the whole journey that has me here today. Mr. Hawthorne sucked me in with those dimples and attention. It was all it took to make me feel loved and slide down a slippery slope. He was my sophomore English teacher. I’d always hated the subject until him.
“Okay, sister, let’s get up and do breakfast.” I sit up until we are both standing.
Baker pulls her panties out of her ass just like a real lady. It makes me giggle. She’s so pure, honest, and full of life, and the one thing that keeps me moving forward in life, no matter how harsh the pain is. She’s been mine since the day I gave birth to her, and her beautiful name was all I gave her before the war set in.
Pain is a welcome enemy in my world. Lord knows, I’ve experienced more of it than any other twenty-one-year-old should. Flashes of yesterday rush back in.
I never meant to hurt Hunter. I fought to stay away from him, but the man showed me what it felt like to be loved. And once I felt that, it became a drug I couldn’t get enough of. I was an addict. Mr. Hawthorne used me. He saw a broken girl who didn’t have a stable home. He took advantage of me, and that’s what I thought love was. I was so wrong. Then I saw two lines on a pregnancy test and knew Mr. Hawthorne would be a part of me for the rest of my life.
It was the final straw to my parents’ marriage. Their relationship was on rocky soil before I came home pregnant with my teacher’s child. Then I’ve been in purgatory ever since. I moved out to my Dad’s shop in Idaho to get my nursing license, and I found so much more. Then I crushed his heart and soul.
“Momma, cereal or pancakes?” Baker’s bright blue eyes shine bright back at me.
“Whatever you’d like.” I pick her up on my hip and pack her into the kitchen.
“Mommy.” She taps my shoulder. “Mommy, there’s a guy on our couch.”
I follow the line of sight of her pudgy finger to the man asleep on our couch.
“That’s my friend, Hunter.”
“Why’s he on our couch?”
“He needed a friend and is hurt.”
“Does him like cereal or pancakes?”
I smile widely at her. “I’m not sure, let’s see what he’d like.”
“Can I poke his nose?” Baker asks.
I give her a shrug. “Whatever you’d like?”
“Him’s look like he’s a waffle or pancake man, Momma.”
I set her down and watch my miracle walk over to Hunter. She studies his face for a long time before taking advantage of his sleeping stature.
“‘Cuse me, sir.” She taps his nose. “Are you a cowboy? And do you like pancakes, waffles, or some good ol’ cereal?”
Hunter rolls over for a bit, then rustles around and barely open his eyes. I can sense the pain behind his eyelids. We still don’t know how hard of a fall he took, but it was enough to knock him out and forget everything. Bits and pieces came back to him, and it tore me apart because he bore his soul to me.