Page 23 of The Cowboy’s Secret Lover

“You need to get dressed,” Faith said. She tightened the grip on his arm. The pressure was all Kurt needed to return to his body. The detached sensation was replaced with a stabbing pain in his chest. Faith continued, “I’ll drive.”

Within minutes, Kurt sat in the passenger seat of his truck. Male pride made him want to insist that he drive, but he knew it wasn’t a good idea. More than the concussion, he was preoccupied with worry. Staring out the window, he saw nothing of the Texas plains, just darkness, memories, and his own distorted reflection in the glass. Was this it? Was this time he’d arrive at the hospital and hear the news? Was his daughter, even now, dead?

Vomit rose in the back of his throat.

The bright lights of the Bear Creek Hospital shone out of the darkness. It was beacon drawing him in. And at the same time, the glare set his teeth on edge. Faith maneuvered the big truck into a spot near the door, one reserved for employees.

He said, “Thank you for getting me here.”

“I’m not leaving now, even if you want to get rid of me. You need someone at your side. I’m that someone.”

He wasn’t one for emotions. Yet, he couldn’t keep his voice from catching as he spoke. “I appreciate you staying.”

Holding out her hand, she said. “Come on. Let’s go.”

Kurt reached for her palm. Her grip was strong, and he took some of that strength and made it his own. From the truck, they walked hand in hand into the Emergency Room.

Camilla Diaz was standing by the door. “Thank goodness you’re here,” she said as they approached. “They won’t tell me anything since I’m not family.”

Next to Camilla was a person that Kurt recognized, yet never expected to see. Rookie bull rider, Vance Sosa. Why was he at the hospital? What did the young Brazilian have to do with Erin? Kurt wordlessly turned to younger man.

“Erin was waiting on my table when she passed out,” Vance said. “Your daughter has waited on me several times. She’s a kind woman. I wanted to help if I could.”

“Vance knew enough to call 9-1-1 right away. He also drove me here,” Camilla added.

“I thank you for your help,” said Kurt. He didn’t need to know how his daughter had been, but rather how she was now. His stomach roiled. “Let me talk to the nurse and see what they’ll tell me.”

With Faith in tow, he approached the admission’s desk.

A nurse looked up. “Can I help you?”

“I’m Erin Crawford’s father. An ambulance brought her here. She passed out at work.”

The nurse typed on the keyboard that sat in front of her. She pressed her lips into a colorless line. “The doctor wants to speak to you, but he’s with another patient. It could be a while, but I’ll let him know you’re here. Why don’t you wait over there?” She pointed to a group of chairs.

“I’m not taking some damned seat,” said Kurt. “I want to know what happened to my child and now.”

“Sir,” said the nurse. Her tone was filled with steel. “You need to calm yourself. I can’t make the doctor work any faster and I don’t want to call security because of you.”

Faith tugged on Kurt’s arm. He allowed her to pull him away. “Take a breath,” she said. She began to dig through her purse. “And let me handle this.”

“What can you do that I can’t? I’m her father, after all.”

Faith looked up from her bag. In her hand, she held a blue lanyard with a Bear Creek Hospital ID card dangling from the end. She slipped it around her neck and approached the admission’s nurse once again. Holding up the card for the nurse to see, Faith said, “I’m Faith McGregor. I need Erin Crawford’s intake paperwork. Send it to my email.”

“Yes, ma’am,” the other woman said.

“What’s the patient’s room number?” she asked.

“Three-ten.”

For an instant, Faith’s eyes widened. It was a slight change and almost unnoticeable—almost, but not completely. Yet, he knew why she’d had a reaction. The 3rd floor was the critical care wing. Despite what Kurt had been hoping, it meant that his daughter’s condition was grave.

“Let’s go,” she said. Grabbing Kurt’s hand, Faith dragged him through a maze of white-tiled hallways. The smell of disinfectant filled the air. Overhead, florescent lights hummed and filled the corridor with an unnatural yellow haze. They found the elevator and took it to the 3rd floor.

The critical care unit.

Kurt had been on the floor, but only as a patient.