True Love Cowboy by Jennifer Ryan

Trinity had been up most of the night. Everything ached. Her hands. Her head. Her chest. Her heart. Even her hair.

She wanted to shut off her mind, but it kept jumping around from past to present, nightmare to nightmare, and all the while her mind kept going back to Jon and Emmy.

She loved her family for staying with her all through the night, and the way Tate went back and forth between rooms to update Jon on her condition and to update her on Emmy’s.

But she hated the separation, the vague answers, and her own mind not being able to hold on to a thought so that she could be sure what they told her was true and not her mind playing tricks on her.

Drake took Adria home to rest. Declan and Skye went to pick up breakfast. Tate sent Liz home so she could get some sleep, but he stayed with her.

“Once they get the results of your latest scan, they’ll let us know if you can go home.” Tate kept his patience with her all through the night when she asked him the same questions over and over again.

It scared her that her mind didn’t work right. The pounding headache turned to a dull throb that wouldn’t quit. The flashing lights in her eyes came and went but now she had strange floaters that danced across her vision.

Tate pushed her wheelchair down the hallway. The overhead lights were far too bright for her sensitive eyes, sitting hurt her ribs, her fingers were killing her, but she wanted to see Emmy.

Tate stopped at Emmy’s door, knocked, then opened it, and pushed Trinity into the brightly lit room. She winced at the light coming in from the windows. Tate handed her the sunglasses Liz luckily had in her purse and left for her to use before she went home.

Trinity waited to put them on because she wanted Emmy to see her whole face and know that she was okay.

Emmy sat on the bed, her legs crossed, holding Jon’s hand as he sat in front of her in the chair, leaning in close to her.

“Why can’t I see her?”

Jon smiled, though it didn’t reach his sad eyes. “Turn around, Emmy. She’s here.”

Emmy turned, dropped her dad’s hand, and scrambled off the bed and ran to her. She threw her arms around Trinity and hugged her tight.

Trinity bit back the yelp of pain moving caused her ribs and hugged the little girl back.

Emmy climbed into her lap, curled up into her, and let loose a sorrowful cry that brought tears to Trinity’s eyes.

She wrapped Emmy up close, the pain in her body blanked out by the overwhelming ache in her heart. “It’s okay, sweetheart. Here I am.”

“I . . . I thought she killed you.”

Trinity pressed her cheek to Emmy’s head. “No, sweetheart. I’m just a little sore.” She lied for Emmy’s benefit, when in reality she could barely stand the agony. It hurt so bad, she had to close her eyes to block out the light and Jon’s earnest and compassionate gaze.

His hand pressed to her face. “We’re so happy to see you. Emmy wanted to go to your room, but I wasn’t sure you were up for visitors yet.”

“And yet I have a vague sense you’ve been frequently coming to check on me.” She opened her eyes just a slit to confirm the agreement in his eyes.

“Emmy’s grandpa was here most of the night, so I could go back and forth,” Jon confirmed.

Tate went to the window and closed the blinds.

She sighed with relief and opened her eyes. “Emmy needed you.”

“You needed me and I wasn’t there.” Jon stuffed his hands in his pockets, his shoulders slumped, and he looked so damn disappointed and angry with himself.

Tate tried to look out for her. “I’m going to find the doctor and see if he has your latest scan results. Getting you home where you can rest should help lower your anxiety.”

“I’m fine,” she automatically said.

Tate rolled his eyes and left them alone.

Jon took her hand and held it up, showing her that it trembled. He clasped it gently in both of his. “You are going to be okay. You’ll need some time to adjust again. And if you’ll let me, I’d like to be the one to take care of you.”

“I’m okay. Sore. Foggy. But . . .”

“You can’t be left alone for a while, Trinity. Not with that head injury. Drake and Declan are talking about taking you home to one of their places, but I want you to come home with us.”

Emmy looked up at her. “I get to stay with Daddy. The judge said so.”

Jon gave her a wary smile. “My lawyer got an emergency custody order. Emmy stays with me.”

“Right where she belongs.”

Emmy tugged her hair. “You have to come, too. Please.”

Trinity’s eyes glassed over. Both of them looked at her with imploring eyes.

“Please, Trinity,” Jon begged. “Give me a chance to make this up to you.”

“Make what up to me?” She didn’t understand. He hadn’t done anything to her.

“We’ll talk about it later.” Jon held his hands out to Emmy. “Come here, sweetheart. Trinity loves to hold you, but she needs to rest.” Jon plucked Emmy off her lap, and she was able to breathe a little easier without her ribs screaming at her. “I don’t know how you’re holding it together so well.”

She looked up at him, concerned that maybe she wasn’t comprehending everything that was going on right now. “Are you okay?”

“I’ll be better when I have you home and I know you’re really going to be okay.”

That sounded good to her. She really wanted to get some sleep. “Okay. Can we go soon? I’m really tired.”

“Emmy should be released any time now, but I’m not sure if the doctor will let you go home yet.”

“Why did Emmy have to stay here?” It finally dawned on her that Emmy stayed in the hospital last night for some reason.

Jon set Emmy on the bed and handed her his phone. “Play your game while I talk to Trinity.” He came back to her and pushed her chair back toward the door, then squatted next to her. “Emmy was very scared last night,” he whispered.

“I tried to get to her, but . . .” She tried to make the images in her mind clear. “I couldn’t seem to reach her.”

“How much do you remember?”

“It’s bits and pieces. I feel like it’s out of order.”

Jon took her shaking hand again. “That’s okay. You don’t need to think about it.”

“I can’t explain it, but it hurts to think. It’s hard for me to . . . I can’t think of the word.”

“Process?”

She nodded. “I feel slow. And stupid that I can’t remember words and things.”

“The swelling is down and the bleed in your brain has stopped and is clearing up. Those are all good signs that your head is healing. In a few days, thinking and doing things will be easier, but the doctor warned me and your family last night that it will take weeks, if not months, for all your symptoms to completely subside.”

She stared at their joined hands. He held the one that had only two fingers with badly broken nails, the skin torn and raw. All of her fingertips ached. But her other hand was the worst. She’d lost one fingernail completely, half of another, and broken two fingers. They were bandaged and splinted together. “How did I hurt my hands? No one will tell me. It’s one of the things that’s . . . dark.” That word made her whole body tremble as fear washed through her like a tidal wave.

“That’s a good word to describe what happened, sweetheart.” Jon glanced at Emmy, who played her game and didn’t pay them any attention. As before, he kept his voice low. “I wasn’t there, so I can’t say exactly how it happened, but Steph somehow shoved you into the closet and locked you in by jamming a chair under the handle.”

“I . . .” Her chest seized.

Jon cupped her face and made her look at him. “Breathe, Trinity.”

She tried, but she felt like she was suffocating. “Something bad happened.” She wrapped her arms around her aching ribs.

“You are okay. Just breathe.” He took a slow breath in.

She copied him and let it out just like he did.

“There you go. Again.”

She breathed in and out with him.

“Keep it slow and even,” he coaxed, and she was able to calm down.

The flashing lights stopped in her eyes. She didn’t feel like she was going to pass out again. “I had a panic attack.”

“That wasn’t so bad.”

She regretted shaking her head. It really screwed up her brain. “No. In the closet.”

“You had a flashback. You panicked. You ran when the police officer let you out, but he was able to catch you and put you in the ambulance.”

“Where is she?” Desperation filled her words and pounding heart.

“Jail.” He pressed his hand to her cheek and looked her in the eyes. “She can’t hurt you or Emmy anymore. I won’t let her.”

Tate walked in next to them. “The doctor says your scan looks good. You can go home. He’s getting your release orders ready now.” Tate looked from her to Jon. “Everything okay?”

Jon stood, but didn’t let go of her trembling hand. “She wanted to know some details.”

“The doctor said not to overwhelm her.” Tate put his hand on her shoulder.

“I simply answered her questions to help her feel less confused.” Frustrated and defensive, Jon rubbed his hand over the back of his neck. “I’m trying to help her process things as they come to her.”

Tate conceded. “You’re right. The doctor said to help her separate the past and the present and only bring it up if she asked.”

“Again. I’m right here.” She understood they wanted to help her, but she didn’t like that they made her feel inept.

Jon sighed with such fatigue she felt sorry for him. He’d had one hell of a night worrying about her and Emmy. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I’m trying to do what’s right here.”

Tate squeezed her shoulder, but spoke to Jon. “Why don’t you take Trinity back to her room and help her get dressed. Liz brought her some clothes and stuff. I’ll stay here with tiny tot.”

Emmy perked up on the bed. “I’m totally going to beat your score.” Emmy held up the game she was playing, taunting Tate.

“No way, tiny tot. You’re toast.” Tate went to the bed and sat beside Emmy.

Jon stared at Emmy, relief in his eyes. Whatever he’d been through last night with her, seeing her happy and playful with Tate sure did make him feel better.

He took the handles at the back of the wheelchair and pushed Trinity out of the room and back to hers. He helped her stand because her balance was off right now and held her still so she could get her bearings, but all she wanted was to be in his arms. She stepped into him and he wrapped his arms around her and held her loosely, because of her ribs, but close.

She breathed him in.

He sighed out his relief. “I wanted to be with you last night, to hold your hand, help you through all the scans, and be here for you while the doctors checked you out and stitched and bandaged you up.”

She stepped back so she could see him, but kept her hands on his arms for balance. “I’m sorry I couldn’t be with you last night and help Emmy.”

Jon stared down at her, surprise and puzzlement in his eyes. “Seriously? You could have died.” His throat worked as he swallowed hard. “I almost lost you, and you’re sorry you weren’t with me and Emmy last night. I don’t deserve that. I should have taken Emmy away from Steph a long time ago.”

She hated seeing the self-loathing in his eyes. “You’re close to doing just that.”

“Too little, too late. She nearly killed you and Emmy is covered in bruises all down her back.”

Trinity gasped. “Oh no.”

“She’s going to be okay,” he assured her. “The point is, if I’d done what was necessary sooner, none of this would have happened.”

“Steph did this. She was drunk and stoned and let her anger, resentment, and jealousy get the better of her.”

“She should be jealous, because you’re kind enough to try to understand her after what she did to you and you’re the mother I want for Emmy. You’re perfect.”

“I’m not,” she assured him. She had her flaws, but she liked that they blurred or disappeared when he looked at her.

“You are for me. That’s why I love you so damn much.”

She had to let loose her aching hands the second she gripped him tighter. “What?”

“You heard me. But if you’re having trouble processing that, I can say it again. I love you. And while it’s not the time to really talk about it, I think you know that I want a life with you. I can’t lose you, Trinity. You mean everything to me.” He kissed her. Long and soft, it spun out and time stopped, and she simply lost herself in him and the amazing way he made her feel.

When he ended the kiss, she felt a little dizzy and it had nothing to do with her head injury and everything to do with the buzz of electricity and love running through her.

She didn’t open her eyes. She simply let herself feel and smiled with the sheer joy of it. “I love you, too.”

Jon pressed his forehead to hers. “Look at me,” he pleaded.

She opened her eyes and stared into his, the blue depths filled with longing. “Stay with me at my place. Let me take care of you.”

“I remember thinking when I saw what was happening at Steph’s place that I’d take Emmy home to be with us. In my mind . . . and my heart . . . I knew that home meant being with you.”

“Then be with me.”

“Then take me and Emmy home.”

Jon held her for a moment. “I’m never going to let anything happen to you again.”

She nuzzled his neck. “It’s not your fault. And when my head is clearer and it doesn’t hurt to see, we’ll talk about what happens next with Steph and us.”

He held her at arm’s length. “Sit on the bed. Let me find your clothes, and we’ll go home so you can get some actual sleep. I just hope you don’t come to your senses and decide you don’t want to be with me, or forget altogether that you said you love me.”

She reached up with her somewhat good hand and pressed it to his jaw. “I didn’t just say it. I mean it. I feel it. I am so in it.”

He leaned into her palm and held her gaze. “When I was driving to get to you and I heard what was happening on the phone and Emmy screamed she was killing you . . .” Tears filled his eyes. “I really, really thought I lost you.”

“Never.”

The kiss they shared sealed that promise.

He made her head spin.

Or maybe that was the concussion. Either way she saw stars.

Jon gripped her waist a bit tighter and broke the kiss. “You need to sit down.”

He eased her back and onto the edge of the bed, untied the bows at the back of her hospital gown, and drew it down her arms, then sucked in a surprised gasp when he saw the colorful array of bruises covering the left side of her torso.

“Holy hell, Trinity.”

She glanced down at her naked chest and abdomen, but quickly looked away. She couldn’t look at the marks and remember what happened. “My clothes are in that bag.”

Jon reached out to touch a particularly bad spot at her ribs, but she quickly leaned back. “Don’t. It hurts.”

“It’s got to be excruciating. How the hell did you not scream when Emmy climbed in your lap?”

“It wasn’t easy, but I could see in her face how much she needed me.”

He closed his eyes and sighed before looking at her again. “The doctor thinks she should see a child psychologist to help her process what happened.”

“I can’t imagine how she felt watching what happened.”

“I know how she felt. Desperate. Angry. Useless. Frightened beyond belief.”

“Those are big feelings for adults. She’s four.” Feeling exposed, she wrapped her arms around her chest and middle.

Jon grabbed the bag off the end of the bed, unzipped it, and pulled out the soft lightweight black sweater Liz packed for her.

“Thank God I don’t need to put on a bra.”

“With those cracked ribs, no way,” he agreed. He gathered the material at the neckline and slipped it over her head, then pulled the sweater over her shoulders and gently picked up each of her hands and helped her put them in the sleeves. She winced. “How bad does it hurt?”

“It’s hard to describe. Everything comes in waves, radiating out from whatever body part I disturb. They held back on the pain meds because of the bleeding in my brain.”

“Why would that matter?”

“In case they needed to do surgery to relieve the pressure.”

Jon swore under his breath. “The cops left me a message I haven’t returned yet, but I’m hoping it’s to tell me Steph pleaded guilty to all the charges and I’ll never have to see her again.”

She took his hand. “You know you’re going to have to see and talk to her.”

“If I see her, I’ll kill her.”

“I’ll bail you out and we’ll run away with Emmy,” she teased.

He brushed his thumb across her cheek. “I don’t deserve you.”

“You deserve to be loved. She never gave you that. I will.”

Jon held her black leggings between his hands with his shoulders slumped. “I don’t know what to say to that, Trinity. It feels like so much more than I imagined I’d have in my life. More than I feel like I deserve right now.”

“Just accept it. And help me put on my pants, because I’m not leaving with my ass hanging out.”

Finally, he smiled. “I’m much better at taking your clothes off, but let’s see if we can do this in reverse.” He slipped the pants up to her knee on one leg then the other, moving her slowly to mitigate the pain in her ribs. She stood and he pulled the leggings up and over her hips. His hands stayed at her waist as he held her close.

She held his gaze and took in the fatigue and worry in his. “We’ve had a hell of a night.”

“I feel like I’ve been dragged through hell. I can’t imagine how you feel.”

She clamped her jaw tight, wrapped her arms around his middle, and hugged him. “Better now.” Though holding her arms up like that killed her ribs, she bit back the pain and focused on Jon holding her and the feel of his strong body pressed to hers.

The doctor walked in and spotted them. “I see you’re dressed and ready to go.”

She eased out of Jon’s embrace. “I just want to curl up in bed at home and shut off my brain.”

“You’re going to need to do that a lot over the next week, but it will ease up over time. Keep screen time to an hour or less a day. You’ll be light sensitive for a while, so sunglasses if you have to go outside, keep the lights down inside. Your short-term memory will be spotty. You may have trouble finding the right word or lose your thoughts before you can express them.”

Jon slipped his hand around her waist and pulled her close to his side. “I’ve seen some of that already.”

“Don’t be alarmed. It should clear up as her brain heals, but it could be weeks to months before it’s completely gone.” The doctor focused on her. “Be very careful getting up. Dizziness and blurred vision are very common. A fall with another blow to the head could make things significantly worse.”

“I see things floating in my vision. Stars in my eyes.”

He nodded. “Very common. You’ll probably want to shower and wash your hair. You’ve got stitches, so try to keep them as dry as possible, but I understand you’ll want to clean the blood from your hair.” He looked at Jon. “You should stand by while she showers for the first few days just to be safe.”

“I will.”

The doctor turned even more serious. “I understand your daughter is having some emotional issues. Trinity, do you remember our talk last night about reengaging with your therapist to help you cope with your PTSD and anxiety?”

“Vaguely. My brother Drake encouraged it this morning.”

“You’ve been through two very traumatic experiences. Last night, you had trouble knowing the difference between the past and present. Don’t be surprised if you have more episodes like that. Talking to someone, opening up about how you’re feeling and working through the trauma and learning to live—”

“Doc, I’ve done this before. I know what I need to do now.”

The doctor stared at her hand trembling at her side. “Please follow through. And if any of your symptoms worsen, contact me immediately.”

“I will. And thank you.”

The doctor handed her discharge papers to Jon and left them alone in the dimly lit room again.

Jon turned to her. “Have you called your psychiatrist and made an appointment?”

“Trust me, I have no doubt my brother Drake already did.” She didn’t want to talk about her mental state. “Let’s get Emmy and go home.”

Jon didn’t let it go. “I’m worried about you.”

She pressed her hand to her forehead. “I need some time. And sleep. Then we’ll see where my head is. Right now, it’s too fresh and up front and overwhelming. I want to go home!” She couldn’t hide the desperation for wanting to get back to normal.

“Okay. I’ll take you.”

“Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me, Trinity. For anything. If not for me, you wouldn’t be in this predicament.”

She closed her eyes because she really needed to block out the light and sort of turn things down in her mind. “Jon . . .”

“You’re tired. Okay. No more talk about it. Sit. I’ll help you put on your shoes and I’ll take you home.”

“That’s all I want and need right now.” She opened her eyes and met his. “And you.”

“You’ll always have me.” He helped her finish getting dressed and packing up the few items she had with her, which included her purse thanks to one of the officers retrieving it from Steph’s apartment last night and putting it in the ambulance with her.

Emmy managed a smile when the nurses, who were pushing them both out in wheelchairs, pretended to race by letting Trinity get ahead, then racing Emmy ahead to take the lead to brighten her day.

Tate, Declan, and Skye hugged her goodbye at the curb, promised they’d call and check on her first thing tomorrow, and waved as Jon drove her out of the hospital lot. Her eyes and brain couldn’t take watching the scenery pass by, so she closed her eyes and settled in for the drive out to the ranch with Jon’s hand on her thigh and Emmy softly humming in the back seat.

Startled awake by something, she flung her hands up to ward off an attack she couldn’t really see and screamed.

Someone grabbed her by the wrists. “Stop, Trinity. It’s me. It’s Jon.”

The fight went out of her. She wrapped her arms around her middle and sucked in a slow breath as the pain in her ribs subsided to a dull throb again, even though her heart still pounded with fear. “What’s going on?”

Jon stood close, so she focused on him. “We’re home.”

She looked around, not recognizing anything.

“I pulled into the garage and closed the door so you wouldn’t have to deal with the bright sunlight.” He gently took the sunglasses from her face, making it much easier to see in the dim garage interior.

“Oh.”

“Emmy’s already inside. Are you okay?”

“Yeah. Sorry. I . . . I don’t know what happened.”

“As much as you need the darkness, it triggers too many bad memories. We’ll have to figure something out.” He stepped back to allow her to exit the car.

She pressed her trembling hand to her temple. “I’m sorry. I overreacted.”

“After all you’ve been through, you’re working on pure instinct. I’ll try to be more aware of it and not scare you.”

“It’s not you.”

“I know. I just want to make things as easy as possible for you right now.” He followed her into the house through the door that led into a mudroom off the kitchen. “Are you hungry?”

She went to shake her head, remembered how that set off all kinds of side effects and discombobulated her, and used her words instead. “I should eat, but I’m too tired.”

“I’ll help you get into bed so you can sleep for a few hours.”

Emmy lay on the sofa watching a cartoon on the big TV with her stuffed bunny and one of her super-soft blankets.

Trinity leaned down and kissed her on the head. “I’m going to sleep. See you in a little while.”

Emmy nodded but didn’t say anything.

Trinity waited until she and Jon were in their room before she voiced her concerns. “I don’t like how quiet she is.”

“Me either. The pediatrician said to give her some time and to coax her to talk and interact with us. I’m hoping you’ll both feel better after a good night’s sleep.”

She dumped her purse on the floor beside the bed and kicked off her shoes. Jon pulled the covers back and she lay down and closed her eyes the second her head hit the pillow.

He brushed his fingers through her messy hair, pulling it back and away from her face. “Rest.”

Her phone vibrated in her purse again. She’d been ignoring it since she woke up in the car. “It’s probably one of my brothers. Will you check?”

Jon made some ruffling sounds as he dug through her purse to get her phone. “Your battery is about dead. I’ll plug your charger in, but you’ve also got twenty-eight messages.”

“Probably work stuff. Will you listen to them and call Adria with anything that needs to be handled right away?”

“Sure, sweetheart.”

With his assurance that he’d handle it, she gave in to the incessant need to shut off her brain and fell into oblivion, only to wake up sometime later caught in a barrage of nightmarish images, Steph’s warning ringing in her head, and a raging need to know why Jon deceived her.