They didn’t return home until the middle of the night.
Once they were in their bed, Carson reached for her again, almost desperately. He made love to her with such tenderness, with such sweetness, with such devotion, she couldn’t stop the tears from falling even as she shuddered in pleasure beneath him.
Afterward he kissed her, keeping the physical connection of their bodies. “I love you, Caro. I ain’t an easy man to love. I’m grateful every damn day that you see past what’s on the surface and know the man I am down deep. It’s never scared you—even when it’s scared me. You give me more happiness and love in one day than I ever thought I’d have in a lifetime. Thank you.”
She’d been married to the man nearly twenty years and he still had the power to surprise her. To move her. To remind her that she, too, was lucky.
The images turned fuzzy and then disappeared entirely. Then she floated in that gray matter again.
No! I want to go back. I want to relive what happens next. I have to remember it all!
But as Carson’s words, “Come back to me. I’m right here. Where I’ve always been, where I’ll always be. I love you. Please. Come back to me,” registered as the end of their time together, the grayness became black, swallowing her completely.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Hospital, Day 4—early evening
“Funny, you don’t look like the anti-Christ.”
Carson jolted awake. God. How long had he been asleep? He squinted at the clock. Only fifteen minutes. Between the flashbacks and the dreams, he had a serious time disconnect.
“Dammit. I woke you up, didn’t I?”
“Uh, yeah.” He blinked and tried to orient himself. He looked at his daughter-in-law. “Hey, AJ. Sorry I’m out of it.”
“Which I expected, given the circumstances. I won’t ask if there’s been any change, because even though you banned everyone from the ICU, you would’ve let someone know.”
“Of course I would have.” He paused. “They really are painting me out to be the anti-Christ, ain’t they? I didn’t ban them from the ICU waiting room, just the ICU itself.”
AJ opened her mouth to say something, but then closed it again. “Why don’t you sit over here?”
“That bad, huh?” he said as he lowered himself into a different chair.
She moved in behind him, setting her hands on his shoulders. “Just relax and let your head fall forward.”
“What’re you—”
“I’m massaging your shoulders and your neck because I can see your tension.”
“AJ, darlin’, you don’t have to do this.”
“I know. It’s my way of contributing to your well-being since rumor has it you’ve already gotten plenty of cookies.”
“Damn, girl, you didn’t bring me cookies? You can just get the hell out of here, right now.”
She laughed. “No secrets in the McKay family. But in all seriousness, I know my sisters-in-law have been here and have told you we’re on your side in this decision. But I’ll also point out that you passed on the stubborn male McKay gene to your sons, so it is partially your fault. The extreme reaction of them being unwilling to listen to reason is why we’re all so ticked off. They’ve got it in their fool heads that you’re just being petty because you can be. Granted, I didn’t grow up in your household, but I’ve never seen you as that kind of man. Then or now. So they’re just bein’ jerks because they’re scared.”
He forced himself to breathe slowly and steadily as she dug her thumbs into the back of his neck.
“Your kids have had some tragedy in their lives, but they’ve not had to deal with the trauma of havin’ a sick parent or losing a parent. I have. Macie has. Channing has. India has. Domini has. Jack has. And your McKay offspring don’t know the sense of helplessness that comes with that loss. Or the feeling of desolation that eats at you, sitting in the hospital day after day, praying for a miracle. Please don’t take that as we don’t have hope Carolyn pulls out of this. We all do. It’s just we all understand where you’re coming from in having to make hard decisions because we’ve seen similar situations and watched our parents struggle with it.”
“I suppose you’ve tried to explain that to them?”
“Tried bein’ the word. I let Cord have his rant and then I calmly pointed out his emotions were overcoming his common sense. That’s when he stopped talking to me.” She started a slow rub on his shoulder blade. “I’d say it’s been quiet around our place, but Cord isn’t the chatterbox in our family anyway.”
“Speaking of… How is Miss Avery?” Carson asked slyly.
“Busy. She’s almost got her father convinced to buy her a horse—no pony for her because she’s a real cowgirl.”
“I don’t have a saddle to pass on to her, since Keely has claimed all her old tack. Not that I think Jack will let Piper get on a horse.”
“That’s too bad. I say hook them early on the love of horses. That way once they’re older and they love riding above all else, when they need discipline, making them exercise and groom their horse, but not letting them ride it is the best punishment.”
Carson turned his head to look at her. “Which of your kids is in need of discipline?”
AJ gently turned his head back where it was. “Will I sound bitter if I say all of them?”
“I don’t know. What’s goin’ on?”
“Cord and Ky…I don’t even know where to start with them.” She started kneading harder. “Ky is a good kid. Sometimes he misses curfew, but I’m sure Cord did too at that age.”
“Hell, that boy missed his curfew more often than he made it home on time.”
“Seems my husband has conveniently forgotten that fact. It drives Cord crazy that Ky is on his phone all the time.”
“Afraid I’ve got no experience with that, except the phone calls we got from parents demanding, ‘Do you know what your sons have been up to?’ which wasn’t fun.”
“That hasn’t happened to us so far. And I don’t want to interfere because I think Cord and Ky oughta figure it out themselves. If that was all that’s been goin’ on, it’d be enough. Except now Foster has decided to be a country singer. Since he got that guitar for Christmas all the kid wants to do is stay in his room and jam. Cord has to get after him to do chores. Then on a day last week when Cord and Ky were especially not fun to be around, Foster convinced Beau to do his chores.”