Chapter 22 "Hey! They're mine." Colt took his gaze off the new lock he was installing on the cabin door to see Indie pulling her bag of M&M's out of Noah's hand. "Really?" Noah asked in disbelief, making a grab for it, only for Indie to yank it farther out of his reach. "You're not going to share?" She scoffed. "You just ate half the bag. I've shared. The rest are mine." Colt chuckled. Indie had been editing photos on her laptop all day, while he and Noah worked on the cabins and Randy's crew had come and gone. The two of them had spent fifty percent of that time arguing and the other fifty percent joking like they were best friends. It was a complicated relationship. "Does she treat you like this?" Noah yelled over his shoulder. "He doesn't steal my M&M's," Indie answered before Colt could get a word in. "I once made the mistake of taking a chocolate egg from her Easter basket," Colt said, as he held the faceplate against the wood before driving in a new screw. "She yelled at me that it wasn't mine to take, that the chocolate had already been emotionally allocated." "Hey, that was mid-IVF; it was a tough time. I may have cried." Noah frowned. "What does 'emotionally allocated' mean?" "It means it had been emotionally reserved for a future time when I might need comfort," Indie answered. "I had to buy new chocolate." "But Easter had passed," Indie added sadly. "So it was just normal chocolate." Noah looked back at Indie. "Would you like me to buy you more M&M's?" "That would be great. Thanks." Colt just shook his head while Noah chuckled before looking at his watch. "I need to go." "Hot date?" Indie asked. "Nah, I promised Holden I'd help him move a few big things from his work shed." "Need any help?" Colt asked. "I think we'll be all right, but I'll message if that changes." "You got it." Once Noah left, Colt turned back to the door. "Five more minutes and I'll be done." "No rush." He tightened some screws. "You're happy he's home." It was an observation, not a question. "I'm happy you're both home." There was a small pause. "Has he mentioned Bonnie to you?" Colt stopped. Bonnie was Indie's sister. And even though she told people they didn't get along, the story was a lot more complicated than that. They'd never gotten along. Bonnie had always been a rebel. Then came the night of Bonnie's high school graduation party. It had been a house party hosted by someone in her class. Bonnie had fought with her boyfriend and left him at the party. He'd driven home drunk, crashed his car, and died. It hadn't been Bonnie's fault, but his family blamed her. Then a few short months later, her parents had died in a car crash. It was too much for Indie's sister, and she had left town. "Has he reached her?" Colt asked, trying to keep his voice neutral. "Yeah, but she won't talk to him. Not a surprise. She's avoided us for this long-why would she start talking to us now?" And there it was. The hurt. The pain she tried to hide. He lowered his tools and looked at her. "Are you okay?" "Not really. When I think of Bonnie, I defer to anger because it's easier than feeling the hurt and the loss and the worry. God, I've been so worried about her for so long. But she doesn't care. She's never cared about anyone but herself. She needed to leave town, so she did. Who cares about anyone still here who loved her and also lost people?" Colt crossed the space between them and sat beside her on the picnic table bench. "She'll come home." "You don't know that. It's been thirteen years, and she hasn't so much as made contact." "I do know that because my gut tells me she'll come home. And my gut's rarely wrong." She leaned into his side, and he wrapped an arm around her. "What did your gut tell you about us?" "That you're my wife. That you'll always be my wife." She looked up at him. "Lately I've been thinking...maybe we should start exploring other options." Colt frowned. "Options?" "Adoption or fostering. I want to be a mother." His arm tightened around her. "That sounds good, Cricket." Her eyes softened. "I love you." "I love you. And I would do anything for you." He meant that...anything. She leaned forward and kissed him, her lips soft against his. And he drank her in. Slipping his tongue between her lips and tasting her. Never again. Never again would he be away from her. Separated in any way. He lifted her to his lap and her thighs immediately hugged his hips, the soft moans from her throat shifting into the air, toying with him. He was just slipping his hands beneath her top when the ringing of his cell interrupted. Goddammit. He growled and pulled it out of his pocket to see it was his mother. "Maybe you should talk to her," Indie said quietly. "You've ignored her last few calls." He watched it for another moment before shaking his head. "It's getting late. I'll call her tomorrow." The ringing stopped, and he quickly sent a text telling her he'd call in the morning, before shoving his cell into his pocket. It vibrated with a voice message. It could wait. "Let's get out of here." They packed up and started the hike home. Colt scanned the trees the entire walk, his hand hovering over his concealed holster. If he was on his own, he'd probably welcome an attack. Because if his father did that, Colt would have cause to attack back. Twenty minutes later, they were back home. He stepped into the kitchen and lifted his cell to listen to the voice message just as Indie's phone rang. She frowned. "It's Jesse." As she turned to answer it, his mother's voice message began. "Colt...help!" He straightened, every muscle in his body locking at the fear in her voice. At her breathlessness. Was she running? There was the sound of wind over the line. "It's Gordon! He...he shot Ben and he's going to-" Suddenly, his mother's scream pierced the line. Then his father's angry growl. A thud cut through the line-and it went dead. Indie turned back to him, face white. "Colt, your mother and Ben have been rushed to the hospital. It's not good." Indie couldn't stop her foot from tapping against the linoleum tiles of the hospital floor. It was a nervous gesture. But she didn't want to be nervous right now. She wanted to be strong for Colt. She wanted to be whatever he needed. Sylvia's chest rose and fell in slow succession. The deep bruising on her cheek was dark, and God, there were so many tubes attached to her. She was asleep. She'd been asleep since they'd stepped into the room. Indie's heart broke for the woman. It didn't matter that Sylvia had never treated her well. No one deserved this. Colt's boots thudded against the floor as he paced the room. He wasn't okay, and the need to make this better for him, to fix this, ran so deep it consumed her. But there was nothing she could do. She felt helpless. The door opened, and she stood as a middle-aged man in a white lab coat stepped in, folder in hand. "Good evening. It's good to see you again, Mr. Reed. I'm sorry it's under such unhappy circumstances." "Dr. Leeroy. This is my wife, Indie." The doctor dipped his head in her direction. "It's nice to meet you, Indie." "You too." "How is she?" Colt asked. "Your mother sustained quite serious injuries. Two cracked ribs. A broken finger and a fractured elbow. But it's the injuries to the head that we're most concerned about. She has a significant concussion, so we'd like to keep her here for a few days for monitoring." Colt's muscles visibly tensed. Indie stepped behind him and touched his back, trying to offer just a little bit of comfort. "But she'll be okay?" Colt asked. "We'll keep monitoring, but after a lot of rest, I believe she will. She's heavily sedated tonight so won't wake until morning." Colt nodded, but the action was sharp and short. She could feel his anger. It rippled off him in waves. "Thank you, Doctor," Indie said softly. She waited until the man closed the door behind him to step in front of Colt and touch his chest. "What can I do?" "You're already doing it by being here." It wasn't enough. But then, nothing felt like enough. She wanted to take away his pain. To make this mess better, but she couldn't. A knock sounded at the door, and this time her cousin Jesse stepped in. He wore his sheriff uniform, and his usual easygoing smile was nowhere to be seen. "How's she doing?" Jesse asked somberly. Colt shook his head. "Not too good. Head injury is the worst. I need to know what happened." "Until one of them wakes up, I won't have the details. But from what I can piece together, your mother and Ben were leaving the community center. She left bridge early and the people inside heard a gunshot. They called us, and one of the elderly members of the group had a gun. But by the time he got out there, he saw your father running away. Your mother was unconscious between the community center and the parking lot, and Ben was bleeding out by your mother's car." "My father shot Ben, my mom tried to run, and he caught her and beat her." "That's what it looks like," Jesse confirmed quietly. "And he took your mother's purse." Nausea punched Indie in the belly. Gordon was so desperate for money that he'd shoot a man and beat a woman, only to take her purse? "As soon as she wakes, we'll get her to cancel her bank cards," Jesse added. "We've also stationed someone outside her house in case he's stupid enough to try and access it with the keys that were in her purse." "Is Ben okay?" Colt asked through gritted teeth. "He's in surgery." "Where is he?" Colt growled, and both Jesse and Indie knew he was talking about Gordon. Frustration brimmed on Jesse's face. "We're looking for him." "I need to find him." Jesse stepped closer. "No. You don't. You need to let me do my job." "And what? Wait for the asshole to attack again? Fuck that." He took a step toward the door, but this time Indie rushed to step in front of him. "Colt. Stop." She reached up and cupped his cheek. "Jesse will find him. Please, trust him. Right now, your mother needs you. I need you." The veins in his arms popped, but finally he turned back toward Jesse and scrubbed a hand over his face. "Fine." "Go home. There's nothing more you can do here," Jesse said. "Get some rest. I'll put my deputies on the door." When Colt didn't move, Indie took his hand and slipped her fingers through his. "Come on." The drive home was quiet. Colt barely said a word, and she didn't know what to say. There weren't any words for situations like this. She just had to sit with him in this hard moment and be the support he needed. Her mind flicked back to his mother in the hospital bed. The injuries she'd sustained. Her ex-husband had done that. Someone she'd once trusted and loved. Someone she'd had a child with. That was why she didn't trust Indie. It made sense now. She'd trusted someone with her son before, and he'd hurt both of them. Now she'd always be afraid of history repeating itself. Noah was right. It wouldn't have mattered who Colt had chosen. When they reached the house, Indie stepped into the kitchen. "I'll heat up the Chinese for dinner." Colt scrubbed a hand over his face. "I'm not really hungry. I might take a shower." He lowered his head and pressed a kiss to her temple before leaving the room. She hated this. All of it. They needed to find Gordon, and soon, and when they did, that asshole needed to be locked up so he couldn't hurt Colt or Sylvia anymore. She took the takeout containers from the fridge. She'd just set them onto the counter when her phone buzzed with a call. Clara. Indie pressed the phone to her ear. "Hey." "Indie, I heard about Colt's mother. Is she okay? Is Colt?" Indie leaned her hip against the counter and closed her eyes. "No. Neither of them are okay. Syliva's going to be in the hospital for a few days, and I'm worried about Colt. He's barely talking to me, and I don't know whether to give him space or not." "Oh, Indie. I'm sorry. You know, when Becket's upset, he says he needs space, when really, I think he just doesn't know how to ask for help." Her gaze shifted to the closed bedroom door. "Should I go to him?" "Do you want to go to him?" "Yes." It was a full-body yes. Every part of her wanted to be close to him right now. "Then go." She nibbled her bottom lip. Clara was right. "Thanks, Clara. I'll call tomorrow." She hung up and walked to the bedroom.