darkened room, a curtain that separated the entry from the main part of the room blocking his vision.
“Sierra?” he asked.
“Come in.” He heard his sister’s weary voice.
He came around the curtain and his throat tightened, so suddenly, so swiftly, that he could hardly catch his breath.
Sierra was hooked up to IVs and wires, different monitors with various displays that were representative of his sister’s life, shrunk down to a pair of green lines. Her blond hair was disheveled, her hospital gown tied crooked, circles beneath her eyes were visible even in the near darkness.
Her husband, Ace, was standing at the head of the bed, his expression one of pure exhaustion and awe. There was a little bundle in Sierra’s arms.
“This is Lily Jane Thompson,” Sierra said, beaming as she angled the baby in her arms so that Gage could see her tiny, perfect face.
His gaze flicked to his brother-in-law who was beaming with pride even in his sleep-deprived state. He put a protective hand on Sierra’s shoulder, sliding it over to the other, rubbing her gently.
Gage felt like he was having an out-of-body experience. He could see Sierra perfectly as she’d been when he left. A little blonde girl with tousled curls. And here she was, her hair just as messy as it had been back then, holding her own little girl. And she had a husband by her side. A man who was going to take care of her.
She really didn’t need him. Hadn’t for a long time. And when she had, he hadn’t been around. Like all of them. Like everyone he’d left behind.
“Do you want to hold her?” Sierra asked, looking up at him with bright blue eyes. He had a feeling she didn’t actually want to relinquish the baby, which was fine by him since the idea of holding something that tiny and fragile scared him shitless.
“I can see her just fine from here,” he said, his voice foreign to his own ears. “She looks perfect to me,” he said, not sure what else you were supposed to say about a baby. Not sure at all what a person was supposed to say in this situation. To the sister you didn’t know anymore.
“She is,” Ace said, his tone firm.
Gage had a feeling that Ace would effectively end anyone or anything that ever threatened his wife or daughter.
He respected that. And as much as he couldn’t quite believe that Sierra was a grown woman with a baby, as badly as it settled with him in general, he knew that he couldn’t have picked a better man for her.
For some reason, that cast his thoughts back to Rebecca. She had an older brother. One who would probably kill him if he had any idea what had happened tonight. There was no way Rebecca’s brother, or any man, would ever happily look at him and their sister and think that he was the best man she could possibly end up with.
Good thing he didn’t intend on ending up with anyone.
“I just... I had to come and see you,” he said.
“I’m so glad that you did.” She smiled.
“Maddy was right,” he responded.
“About?”
“She said that you were nicer than she was.”
That made Sierra laugh. “It depends on who you ask.”
“Not really,” Ace said. “Sierra is nicer. Unless she’s drunk and recently bucked off a mechanical bull. Then she’s kind of mean.”
“There’s a story there, I take it.”
“There is,” Sierra said, sounding cheerful. “I’m going to tell it to you someday.”
He believed it. And there was something in that simple promise that warmed him. Made him feel... Something a lot like hope.
“Get some rest,” he said. “Thank you again. I’m glad I got to come and see her.”
“Of course. You’re her uncle Gage.”
Those words hit him square in the chest. Now there was another person in Copper Ridge who was depending on him. Who was part of his family. His blood. A web that kept on expanding. There was no cutting ties to this damn place.
As he looked around the hospital room, he wondered why he had ever wanted to.
He nodded once, then turned and walked out of the room. It wasn’t the best goodbye. But then, he wasn’t very good at goodbyes in general.
When he got back into the waiting area, Rebecca and Lydia were there, holding coffee cups. Neither of them seemed to be interested in drinking them, which only served to reinforce his belief that the coffee in question had merely been decoy coffee.