Chris reached down and took her hand in his. It was warm and a bit rough and very, very comforting.
“You okay?”
She’d lived through their mother leaving. She’d lived through her stepmother dying and all the grief that had followed—for all of them. “I’ll be fine,” she replied. “Let’s go.”
But as they went through the door, she didn’t let go of his hand.
Savannah saw her first. “Lizzie! You’re finally here!” She came forward quickly, sparing Chris a curious glance before enveloping Lizzie in a hug.
“How is he?” Lizzie asked, stepping back. Savannah must have come right from the ranch store. She was still wearing her Peach Pit work shirt and jeans. “Any word?”
Julieta came forward, her normally perfect hairstyle slightly frayed around the edges, her eyes tired, and yet still incredibly beautiful. “He’s just out of surgery,” she said softly. “Still in recovery, so it’ll be a while before we can see him.”
“And everything went well?” Lizzie’s insides clenched at the thought of her father, her dynamic, energetic, blustery father lying motionless on a surgical table.
“As far as we know.” Julieta saw Chris standing just behind Lizzie and smiled at him. “Hello, I’m Julieta, Brock’s wife.” There was no mistaking the Spanish lilt to her voice.
Chris stepped forward and held out his hand. “Chris Miller, ma’am.”
“Chris was with me when you called,” Lizzie explained, her cheeks heating. “He drove me to the hospital.”
“How nice of you,” Julieta remarked, while Lizzie was aware of the rest of the family looking on.
“Long drive for someone who’s worried about their family,” he explained simply. “I was glad to do it.”
“Miller? Chris Miller, is that you?”
Lizzie saw Jet stepping forward, his face registering surprise. Of course they would know each other. Rodeo was really a small world when all was said and done.
“Jet.” Chris smiled again and held out his hand. “Good to see you. Sorry about your dad.”
The men clasped hands firmly. “You and Lizzie?” Jet looked between the two of them. “Since when?”
Lizzie stepped in, not trusting Chris to answer. “Since about eight weeks ago.” She could feel Chris’s gaze on her face and she refused to look at him.
“Eight weeks?” Jet’s lips dropped open. “Well, aren’t you the one for keeping secrets, Miss I’ll-Never-Date-A-Cowboy.” He winked at her.
Her brother was far too astute and far too charming for his own good. “I have a family who tends to make everything their business,” she said wryly. “Figured I’d better keep it under the Baron radar or else you’d tell him stories and scare him away. Besides, you’re the last person qualified to give me a dating lecture.” She raised an eyebrow at him. Jet never had any problem getting girls. He attracted them like bees to honey with his good looks and easy charm. He was a bit like their father that way. “Chris came for moral support,” she added.
She hoped God wasn’t about to strike her down with a bolt of lightning, the way the lies were tripping off her tongue with such ease. And she totally ignored what Jet said about not dating cowboys. She wasn’t exactly opposed to them, but if she didn’t say she was, her family would be trying to set her up left and right.
Chris didn’t say anything, to her great relief. But he did come closer and put his arm around her, resting his hand on her waist. The touch seared through her jacket to her skin.
For the next several minutes she caught up with Carly, who had also driven up from Houston, and her stepbrothers, Jacob and Daniel, who sat away from the rest of the family and chatted quietly, their elbows on their knees. Jacob and Daniel resembled each other heavily, from their dark hair and eyes to their body language. Chris knew Jacob from the circuit as well, and she was relieved because it eased the tension that always seemed to simmer just below the surface of the family. Julieta’s son, Alex, had fallen asleep curled up in a chair, but when he woke up he was out of sorts. The doctor had just come to speak to them though, and the sound of his whining was disconcerting.
“Hey, Alex, are you hungry?” Chris stepped forward and squatted down in front of the boy. “I haven’t had any dinner. How’s about you and me go to the cafeteria and see what they’ve got to eat?”
Alex’s brown eyes looked innocently into Chris’s. “I can’ts go with you ’cause you’re a stranger.”
Lizzie’s heart warmed as Chris smiled and looked to Julieta for backup.
Julieta excused herself for a moment and came to Alex’s side. “This is Chris, Alex. He came with Lizzie, and he’s okay. If you want to go to the cafeteria, you can. Maybe you can grab Mama something to eat, too, okay?”
“Can I have money?” he asked. “So I can pay all by myself?”
Lizzie tried not to smirk. The kid was learning early.
“Of course.” Julieta took a few bills out of her purse and gave them to Chris. “Chris will look after them for you, okay? And if you aren’t a good boy, he won’t let you pay for the food.” She gave him a stern look.
“Yes, Mama.”
“Ready?” Chris asked.
Alex nodded and Chris stood. Lizzie watched them head for the unit doors and her heart gave a strange thump against her ribs as Alex reached up and trustingly put his small hand in Chris’s.
The family turned their attention back to the doctor, who was explaining the procedure to put a rod in Brock’s leg, the plan for the next few days and the concerns they had for his recovery. Lizzie was disheartened to hear that recuperation could take from four to six months, especially for a man of Brock’s age. He was in general good health, which was in his favor, but with the added concussion, though minor, what he needed most right now was time and rest and once he was ready they’d start on rehab.
After he left, Julieta sat down, her face drawn, and Lizzie looked at Jet.
“Well, little brother, if you were ever going to reconsider going into the family business...”
Jet scowled. “I’m in the family business. Rodeo. On my own ranch, thanks.”
“That’s not what I meant and you know it.” She kept her voice low, not wanting the whole family to overhear her putting the screws to her brother. “Dad’s not going to be able to go into work for a while. You know he wants you as part of the business.”
“And you’re already a vice president. You’re the one to take the reins now, sis.”
She scoffed. “Right. Like the board is going to stand for that.”
“It will if Dad says so.”
“And will he? Because he’d rather it were you. I swear, if he puts Mark Baker in the driver’s seat I’ll resign. That man is impossible.”
“You won’t resign. You love that company as much as Dad does.”
She sighed. He was right. So what was she going to do? Run an entire energy company in between bouts of morning sickness and prenatal appointments?
She squared her shoulders. Well, why not? If she didn’t, she’d just prove every chauvinistic thing Mark Baker ever said absolutely true.
“You’re sure you won’t come aboard?”
Jet smiled his charming smile. “I’m sure you’ll do a great job, Liz. And I’ll tell Dad that, too, if it helps.”
“Yeah, thanks a lot,”