Ned didn’t wait for someone to come. He ran to the door and yelled, “We need help in here! Someone’s been stabbed.”
A doctor and two nurses rushed in almost immediately and began clearing the room. The sheriff dragged Mandy out, kicking and screaming, while a nurse led Dan to the waiting room, quietly explaining what had happened to Cowboy. Ned didn’t make any attempt to leave. He just stood quietly in the corner, watching the scene unfold.
Once a gurney was wheeled in, a flurry of activity took place. The medical team quickly and carefully moved Cowboy off me and onto the other bed as they took his vitals and wheeled him from the room.
I tried to get up, but a nurse pushed me back down and ordered me to stay where I was as he was taken away. Upset, I began coughing violently, pulled out my IV, and tried to get up again. “No, I need to make sure he’s okay.”
She had at least fifty pounds on me, though, and held me there. “They’re going to assess him first. Then he’ll probably be taken up to the OR for surgery. You won’t be able to see him anytime soon. I’ll find out what’s going on and come back and give you an update,” she promised. “Sit tight.”
The nurse glanced to Ned and he nodded. “I’ll stay with her.”
When she seemed sure I wouldn’t get up again, she told him, “Hit the call button if you need anything.”
I looked down at the white sheets on the bed and shivered. There was no blood. Anywhere. In fact, there wasn’t a single drop on my hospital gown, the bed, or even the floor. Almost like it had never happened. I would have thought I was dreaming, but as the nurse closed the heavy door behind her with an echoing clang, I glanced around the sterile-smelling room and spotted the rolling hamper marked “soiled” on the outside.
Soiled. It was exactly how I felt.
A wave of dismay swept over my queasy stomach, dragging repulsion in its wake. Everything I thought I had known was now tainted by shock, stained with dread, and marked with violence. I wanted to remove any traces of the horror I’d just witnessed. But nothing could sanitize those memories of Cowboy lying helplessly across me, unable to talk, with scissors protruding from his neck.
Without a word, I leaned my head back against the pillow and sank into the bed, letting the tears leak down my cheeks.
God, please let him be okay.
It was an hour later when I finally stopped crying. Ned stood across the room, staring out the window and watching the sun rise. “Are you okay?”
I ignored his question and asked one of my own. “Why haven’t we heard anything yet?”
“I imagine we will soon.”
After sitting in silence a while longer, the door pushed open and I jumped to my feet. Bobbie Jo stepped into the room, followed by the rest of the gang. She rushed to my side, panic-stricken. “Oh, Anna. We came as soon as we heard.”
My gaze flitted from Ox to Judd, then over to Emily standing there with Jake’s supportive arm around her. I could see the worry in each of their eyes. Of course they’d come running the moment they found out about Cowboy.
He was their family.
“We don’t know anything yet.”
“Are they running tests or something?” Jake asked, looking puzzled. “You’ve had to have been here a few hours already. Why don’t they know what’s wrong with you?”
Me? He thought I was talking about…myself?
“And where the hell is Cowboy?” Emily asked. “He didn’t even call us until after you were admitted. We’re going to kill him for not letting us know about this sooner.”
They were here for me? Which meant they didn’t know about Cowboy’s condition. And I had to be the one who told them. “I…thought…you knew,” I whispered, my voice cracking under pressure.