of Cheyenne reminded him that he needed to get back. He hadn’t been the right sort of friend to Bailey, and he’d broken promises he never should’ve made. But now he’d made a promise to Cheyenne … that he wasn’t going to leave her … that she could count on him. For however long … whatever that meant.
Cody twisted the ring, savoring the familiar way it felt against his finger. Yes, Cheyenne could count on him … as long as God provided the strength for him to be there for her. Cody had promised he’d stay.
And this time, he wasn’t going to break his promise.
Two
THE LIGHTS OF NEW YORK CITY GLOWED IN THE NIGHT SKY AS Bailey Flanigan and her mom arrived in busy, bustling Times Square. They shared a quick dinner at Sbarro on Broadway across from the DoubleTree, and headed to their room at the Marriott Marquis. Since her mom had slept the entire flight in, and because of the noise of the city and even the restaurant, Bailey still hadn’t found a time to tell her mom about her meeting yesterday with Cody. Finally, alone in their hotel room, Bailey sat on the edge of the bed near the pillow and tried to remember every detail.
“I feel terrible for the girl … her name’s Cheyenne.” Bailey sat cross-legged, her long hair in a side ponytail. “But still … I had no idea he’d moved on.”
Her mom took the chair a few feet away, and a sad, knowing sort of look filled her face. “I figured you had more in that heart of yours than the goodbyes you said to your dad and your brothers.”
Bailey nodded. “It was a lot. Too much to talk about.” She exhaled, feeling the weariness from earlier that day. “I wasn’t sure I could take all those goodbyes.” She tilted her head, thoughtful. “Isn’t it so weird, Mom? I mean, like, I’ve said goodbye to not only my childhood, but to my family. Now …” she didn’t want to cry again, and her eyes were dry. But that didn’t make the situation easier to accept. “Now they’ll grow up without me. Like, when I see them again they’ll be taller and older looking.”
Her mom’s eyes looked a little damp. “We’ll visit. We’re coming the first weekend after you join the show.”
“I’m glad.” Bailey wasn’t distraught, not really. Her moving just made life so different, their family so unlike what it had ever been before. “So, yes, Cody was on my mind. We … we didn’t talk much at the hospital.”
“Maybe he’s feeling hurt too. Have you thought about that?” Always her mom had been a great listener, even when she didn’t agree with Bailey. This was one of those times. “I mean, sweetheart, he has to know about Brandon Paul. He came to our house and saw the two of you. And then he drove away.”
“Right, and he should’ve talked to me.” Bailey leaned against the headboard. “Cody’s always running, Mom … I’m tired of that.” She set her heart’s resolve, unwilling to spend the evening feeling sad about Cody. “Besides, he has Cheyenne. And he clearly has her. He was sitting by her side like … like they were married or something.”
“Honey, …” again caution rang quietly in her mom’s voice. “He’s doing what anyone would do in the situation. Cheyenne is fighting for her life.” She paused, her eyes still on Bailey. “Did you see anyone else there?”
“An older woman. But that’s all.”
“So Cheyenne probably needs him.”
Bailey hadn’t thought about that. Despite the girl’s injuries all Bailey had seen was Cody sitting by her bedside. As if he cared for her more than anyone in the world. Like he maybe even loved her. She felt suddenly terrible for her assumptions. “You’re right. I can’t tell anything from what I saw.” She looked out the window at the dazzling lights, and she remembered again where she was and why she was here — and that she wasn’t going back home at the end of the week. “Anyway, it doesn’t matter. We said our goodbyes.”
Bailey spent the next hour talking about how Cody had begged her to stay longer, and how he’d asked her to sit by him while he went through the things in the box. But how she had hurried away, anxious to be done with the visit. “I think I learned something.” Resignation sounded in her voice. It was the saddest part of saying goodbye to Cody, this realization that