Brown-Eyed Girl

Jack looked sardonic. “I’ve drunk hot coffee out of Styrofoam for most of my life.”

“That explains it,” Joe said.

Although Jack sent him a warning glance, there was a betraying twitch at the corner of his mouth as he took his seat beside Ella. He offered her a pack of plastic-wrapped cookies.

“You got that from a vending machine, didn’t you?” Ella asked suspiciously.

“I couldn’t help myself,” Jack said.

“What’s wrong with vending machines?” I asked.

“The food is junk,” Ella replied, “and the machines themselves are deadly. They kill more people per year than sharks.”

“How could a vending machine kill someone?” Liberty asked.

“Fall over and crush them,” Ella said earnestly. “It happens.”

“There’s no vending machine in existence that could take out a Travis,” Jack informed her. “We’re too hardheaded.”

“I’ll vouch for that,” Ella said. Surreptitiously she took a cookie from the open packet and began to nibble on it.

I smiled and rested my head on Joe’s shoulder. His hand began to sift through the loose locks of my hair.

Abruptly, the soothing motion of his hand stopped, a new tension entering his body. Lifting my head, I followed the direction of Joe’s gaze.

Hardy had entered the waiting room, not seeming to recognize or notice anyone. His face was haggard and skull white, his eyes electric blue. He went blindly to the farthest corner and sat, his broad shoulders hunched as if he were trying to recover from a mule kick to the chest.

“Hardy —” someone said quietly.

He flinched and gave a little shake of his head.

A doctor had come to the doorway. Gage went to him, and they conferred for a couple of minutes.

Gage’s expression was unreadable as he returned. The group leaned in to catch every word as he spoke quietly. “There’s a complication with preeclampsia called HELLP syndrome. Basically the red blood cells are rupturing. Haven is heading toward liver failure and a possible stroke.” He paused and swallowed hard, his gaze meeting Liberty’s. “Delivering the baby is the first step,” he continued in an even tone. “After that they’ll give her steroids and plasma, and likely a blood transfusion. We’ll probably get some news in about an hour. For now, we hunker down and wait.”

“Shit,” Joe said softly. He glanced at the far corner of the room, where Hardy leaned forward with his forearms braced on his thighs, his head down. “Someone should sit with him. Should I —”

“I will, if you don’t mind,” Gage murmured.

“Go right ahead.”

Gage stood and went to the solitary figure in the corner.

I was surprised by Gage’s desire to sit with Hardy, recalling some of what Joe had once told me, that there was no love lost between the two men. Joe had been somewhat vague about the details, but he’d indicated that Hardy had caused some kind of trouble for Gage and Liberty. It seemed there was history between Hardy and Liberty – they had known each other growing up and had even been childhood sweethearts for a time.

“How did Hardy end up marrying Haven?” I had asked.

“Not exactly sure how or when it started,” Joe had said. “But once Hardy and Haven took up with each other, it was like trying to stop a runaway train. And eventually we all realized that Hardy loved her, which is all that matters. Still… Gage and Hardy generally keep their distance from each other, unless there’s an occasion when the entire family gets together.”

I stole a discreet glance at the corner of the room, where Gage sat beside Hardy and gave him a rough brotherly pat on the back. Hardy didn’t even appear to notice. He was trapped in some private hell, where no one could reach him. In a couple of minutes, however, Hardy’s shoulders lifted and fell in a sigh. Gage asked him something, and he shook his head in response.

For the next hour, Gage stayed beside Hardy, murmuring from time to time but mostly offering silent companionship. No one else approached, understanding that Hardy’s emotions were too raw, that one person’s proximity was all he could handle.

Why that person should be Gage, however, was difficult to understand.

I gave Joe a questioning glance. Leaning close, he murmured, “Haven’s always been a favorite of Gage’s. Hardy knows if anything happens, Gage would be nearly as torn up about it as he would. And besides… they’re family.”

A young nurse entered the waiting room. “Mr. Cates?” He rose to his feet, his face contorted with a raw anguish that I doubted she or anyone else would ever forget. She hurried over to him with her phone. “I have a picture of your daughter,” she said. “I took it before they put her in the incubator. She’s a perfect four pounds. Seventeen inches long.”

The Travises all gathered around the phone with exclamations of excitement and relief.

Hardy took a glance at the image and said hoarsely, “My wife…”

“Mrs. Cates came through the surgery without any major issues. She’s waking up in recovery – it’ll take a little while. The doctor will be here in just a minute, and he’ll let you know —”

“I want to see her,” Hardy said brusquely.

Before the disconcerted nurse could reply, Gage intervened. “Hardy, I’ll talk to the doctor while you’re with Haven.”

Hardy nodded and strode from the waiting area.