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“I don’t have a heartbeat over here.”
At the male voice’s grim pronouncement, Lydia moaned and turned her head to Daniel. It was hard to see him because the men were crowding around him, and opening medical kits.
“IV in,” someone said.
“Paddles on and charged.”
As Daniel’s body jerked, she looked at their hands.
He had let go of hers. She was the one hanging on to him now.
C.P.’s face entered Lydia’s vision. “We’ll get you, too. Don’t worry.”
“Save him,” was all Lydia could say before she passed out. “Just save him—”
DANIEL!”
As Lydia shot upright and yelled, the pain that answered the callout was the kind that turned the stomach and made your vision go checkerboard.
With a groan, she collapsed back against something that was pillow soft—oh, it was a pillow. Actually, she was in a bed—a hospital bed—and hooked up to an IV and all kinds of monitors. Across the way, a TV was mounted on the wall, and there were no windows. A wooden door, which didn’t seem to have a lock on it, was closed.
It didn’t stay that way.
The thing was pushed opened. “You’re awake. How are you doing?”
C.P. Phalen was still in the camo she’d been wearing when she’d arrived with her—
“Is he alive,” Lydia croaked. “Is Daniel alive.”
The woman nodded and urged the door closed even though it was shutting on its own. “He’s in surgery still. But they expect him to pull through.”
Tears speared into Lydia’s eyes and she didn’t bother to hold them back. And as the attendant weeping made her shoulder scream with agony, she realized she was bandaged up on that whole side, even on her arm.
“It’s okay.” C.P. came over to the bedside and sat down. “You’ve had a helluva scare. Just let it go.”
“I thought he’d died. I thought I was … dead, too.”
When the worst of the emotional breakdown had passed, Lydia wiped her eyes with the hand towel C.P. held out to her, and then took a shuddering breath.
“You’re in my private clinic.” C.P. indicated the bed and the monitors. “The standard of care down here is world-class.”
“How did you know … we were there?”
“You’re not the only person with cameras on the mountain.”
Lydia’s breath stopped in her chest. “So you saw me …”
C.P.’s eyes dropped to the floor, something that Lydia was very sure the woman very rarely did. Ever.
“I saw, yes. It was … unparalleled.” Abruptly, the woman glanced over. “Guess we don’t need to develop what already exists, huh.”
Lydia tried to push herself up and failed. “I don’t know what to say.”
“You don’t have to say anything—and no, I haven’t said anything to your friends.”
“Friends?”
There was a knock on the door. And then Candy put her head in.
“Oh, thank fuck,” the receptionist said as she shoved her way into the room. “I look horrible in black, but I woulda worn it for your damn funeral. For an hour or two.”
Right behind her, Sheriff Eastwind was a tall, quiet presence, his uniform’s hat held between two hands, his strong face worried.
Lydia covered her eyes with the arm she could move as the tears came back.
“Don’t start.” Candy cleared her throat. “I really—oh, shit. Who’s got Kleenex.”
About twenty minutes later, when the sheriff and Candy left, Lydia reflected that it was so strange … the way strangers became family.
And she was glad to see even Eastwind, although she had questions she was far too tired to ask, like what exactly had happened when Candy had done what Lydia had asked and gone to him with Rick’s binder and Peter’s disks … and what his response was … and what all that would mean. But she had a feeling, given that they were here with C.P.?
Well, the woman had reach, didn’t she. And money. And power.
And really, Lydia didn’t care about the outside world. She just didn’t.
“Where is Daniel?” she asked. “When can I see him?”
And that was when there was a subtle shift in C.P.’s expression.
“What.” Lydia pushed herself up high on the pillows even though it hurt like a bitch. “You need to tell me. Right now.”
C.P. flared out her manicured nails and inspected the gel tips that were done in a French mani.
“What,” Lydia breathed. “You told me he was going to live. You told—”
“He’ll survive the operation.”
“Is he paralyzed? Blinded? Was he hit somewhere—”
“It’s not a wound that’s the problem.”
After a long moment, C.P. turned her head. The fact that her cold, calculating eyes were watery made Lydia’s heart stop.
“He has cancer.”
“What?” Lydia sat all the way up, in spite of the pain. “I’m sorry, what did you—”
“He’s riddled with it. It’s in his lungs and his liver. The fact that he was able to go on at all is a miracle. We found the tumors because of the chest X-rays that were done before he was operated on for the internal bleeding. It’s clearly stage four, although the primary site hasn’t been determined yet.”
“What … are you … is he …”
C.P. rubbed her eyes and cleared her throat. As she stood up off the bed, she put her hands on her hips and stared at the door.
The stillness of the woman as she spoke was so scary. “We’re going to move him to a recovery room up in the house. He’s welcome to stay as long as he wants, as long as he needs to. You, too. You’re part of the family now, with all your baggage. Both of you.”
“When can I see him?”
“As soon as he’s medically stable and awake.” C.P. went to the door. Then looked back. “Good thing we don’t worry about HIPAA here, isn’t it.”
“Is he terminal?”
As Lydia let the words fly, she held on to a hope that in her mind she knew she couldn’t justify. Still, miracles happened with cancer, right? Miracles happened all the time …
IN THE DREAM, Daniel was running, running through the night, running through the moonlight, across a field of wildflowers. On his heels, tight as could be, a beautiful female gray wolf was galloping after him.
Every time he looked over his shoulder, she was there, the light in her golden eyes one of love and adoration, happiness and loyalty.
He was laughing.
Taking great breaths of clean, fresh spring air, he was laughing—
Daniel’s eyes flipped open. Overhead … there was no moonlit night sky. Across the way … there was no meadow, but a blank wall.
Next to him, though. Slumped in a chair. With her chin on her chest …
Was his wolf.
As if Lydia sensed his attention, her eyes flipped open and that was when the light came from somewhere: The illumination was so bright and blinding that he had to try to put his arm up.