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CHAPTER FORTY-TWO

G arrett was seated at Dean’s bedside when the doctor stepped in Monday morning. She might have been the height and weight of a middle-school girl, but she was competent, considering three days had passed since Dean had been stabbed, and he was still alive.

But the surgeon’s every visit so far had come with caution as she’d listed all the things that could still go wrong. She’d told them Friday night, then Saturday, then again on Sunday, that Dean was still in grave danger.

Garrett hated that expression. Grave danger. It brought to mind headstones and caskets and death.

He couldn’t lose Dean, not now. Not yet. He muttered his millionth prayer, asking once again for God to heal his uncle as he joined Deborah at the end of Dean’s bed. Together, they watched while the doctor checked on the patient.

“Has he been awake much today?” she asked.

Garrett waited for Deborah to answer, but she was quiet. She’d been unnaturally quiet throughout this whole affair. His aunt, who was usually bubbling over with joy and laughter and stories, had hardly spoken for days.

Garrett was almost as worried about her as he was about Dean.

“Not today.” Garrett squeezed Deborah’s hand. “He woke up for a few minutes last night around ten o’clock.”

Garrett had insisted Deborah go home and sleep. There was no reason for both of them to stay all night, and she needed rest. She claimed she’d gotten some, but the dark smudges beneath her eyes told a different story.

“Was he lucid?” the surgeon asked.

“He didn’t say anything.”

Dean had looked afraid when his eyes first opened, but Garrett had reminded him that he was in a hospital. At that point, he’d relaxed but still hadn’t spoken. Garrett had assured him that Deborah was well and at home resting, and that Aspen was also alive and well. Then he’d talked about the Bruins game, which he’d just finished watching, and told his uncle how the Celtics were doing. He’d babbled about nothing until Dean fell back asleep. “Why doesn’t he talk?”

Garrett wasn’t accustomed to so much silence from his aunt and uncle. Thank God for Aspen, who’d braved the snow-covered roads and spent the better part of every day at the hospital with them. She kept them company with her chatter. She brought food and insisted they both eat. She brought magazines and books and had even purchased a deck of cards and challenged them to gin rummy. Deborah had passed, but Garrett had taken her up on the offer. They’d played for hours.

With every tick of the clock, he’d been more convinced that Aspen was the woman for him. He’d fallen more in love with her every time she’d walked through those doors.

“It’s the medication,” the surgeon said. “The painkillers are helping him rest, which is the best thing for him.” She smiled. “I’m going to be honest. I didn’t think he’d make it this long.”

The words ticked up Garrett’s blood pressure, but he focused on the happiness in the doctor’s expression.

“His heart rate is right where we want it. He’s healing well. We’re going to start weaning him off the medication today and see how he does.”

Garrett said, “Are you saying?—?”

“Is he going to be all right?” Deborah’s voice held hope for the first time in days.

The surgeon stepped closer and gripped her arm. “I don’t make promises, but if I had to guess, I’d say he’s going to make a full recovery.”

Deborah collapsed against Garrett’s chest and sobbed. Deep, heart-wrenching sobs. It seemed all the fear she’d been afraid to voice for three days was coming out now, soaking his sweatshirt.

He held her close and looked over her head at the surgeon. “Thank you.”

She nodded and stepped out.

A moment later, Aspen stepped in. “I didn’t want to interrupt.” Her gaze flicked from Deborah, still in his arms, to the bed, where Dean lay still. Her eyes widened. “Is everything okay?”

“It’s good news,” Garrett said.

Aspen closed the distance, and he held out a hand to her. She squeezed it, then stepped near the bed and gazed down at Dean. “You hear that? You’re going to be all right.”

Deborah moved to the other side of the bed.

Garrett’s eyes tingled at the sight of the woman he loved with the aunt and uncle he adored. His family.

But when Aspen looked at Deborah, Garrett caught something unsettled in her gaze. Deborah returned the look.

He once again had the feeling that there was a conversation going on beneath the surface, a conversation he couldn’t hear.