The Heart of Texas (12 page)

Chapter 24

Jack closed the cell, a smile on his face that belied the worry he was feeling about his husband. One piece of good news— momma and baby doing well. The veterinarian gave the usual provisos. Solo's foal was strong but premature, and she'd need care, but Solo's injuries were minimal as well.

"Mr Campbell-Hayes?" The nurse stood at the door, looking expectantly from Josh to Jack.

"Me," Jack replied, standing abruptly. "Is Riley okay?"

"If you come with me, the surgeon would like to talk to you." Glancing back at his family, strengthened by their unspoken support, he followed her to the side room where a man stood, hardly older than him. Everything he said was a blur.

"Everything went well— nicked an artery— blood transfusions from his father—unconscious— sleeping—"

"Can I see him?"
Can I just touch him and maybe check that he's still alive?

"The nurse will take you through as soon as he's situated in ICU. Do you have any further questions?" Jack tried to follow what he was saying. He had hundreds of questions…
What happened? Why did Riley push Beth out of the way? Why did he run right into the fire?
He just had none that he had to ask to surgeon. So thanking him and shaking his hand, he turned to follow the nurse who babbled on about having someone famous in the OR and the last time that had happened it had been some bit actor off of
Dynasty
, way, way back. Jack half listened, apprehension rising in him, wondering if he should go back and get Josh, or his mom, just to… to what? Hold his hand? Hell, he was an adult, not a kid. He could handle one unconscious husband.

The door opened, and he listened carefully as she said not to look too closely, that each tube and wire was there for a reason.

"He's out of any danger; everything went well."

He thanked her, delaying looking at Riley until the very last minute. Until,
finally
, he was there, next to his husband's bed, looking down at the tall man, impossibly pale against the white sheets. He didn't look hurt. Every sign of the injury he'd received was hidden under hospital issue sheets and bandages. He simply looked peaceful, his hair pushed back from his face, his eyelids shut, and his lips separated by a tube disappearing into his mouth. Sighing Jack traced a finger from his forehead to throat, gently touching each mole, each inch of skin. Fear gripped him. How was he going to talk to this man when he finally opened his eyes? How could he possibly thank him for what he'd done for Beth?

Scooting a chair closer, he slumped into it. He obviously now had time to think, and he was here for the long haul.

* * * *

Steve took the stairs, too impatient to wait for the elevator, bursting into the family room in a flurry of early morning air and panic. He sought Beth, found her, pulling her close in a frenzied hug. He then leaned back, looked at her pale face and tamped down the need to push her into a bed to sleep.

"Talk to me," he ordered swiftly, half turning to Josh, looking for answers.

"There was a fire at the D," Beth started.

"Are you okay, Beth? Is the baby okay?" Steve looked down at her belly and back up at her beautiful eyes, drowning in the depths of tear-bright blue.

Beth smiled softly, nodding. "I'm fine."

"So how bad is Riley?" Eden asked. "Is he out of surgery yet?"

"They took Jack out to talk," Josh said. "I think it's gonna be okay. The nurse was smiling." He stood to one side and looked from Steve to Beth and back again.

"Are you really okay?" Steve pulled Beth close.

"Riley put himself between me and the horse. He protected me from injury and probably saved the baby's life. He went in and helped Jack bring the horses out. If he hadn't, Jack would have been in there when it collapsed. Please, Steve, whatever made the two of you fall out, can you not forget, just for today?"

"He—" Steve stopped the words on his lips, words that would damn Riley in front of his husband's family. He couldn't say them, couldn't even begin to string them together. "Okay, okay, shall we get you home, eh?" He looked at Josh, who nodded his approval. "I'll take her back to my apartment," he confirmed, kissing away the dissent in Beth's voice and clutching her hand. "Will you let us know?"

* * * *

Josh waited until his sister and Steve had left, crossing to close the door behind them and turning back to his mom. She was sitting quietly to one side, observing everything that was happening with a careful eye.

"Is Steve the dad?" Josh asked his mom, wanting the truth.

"She's saying nothing, but in my heart, I don't think it is Steve. I'm not sure how their relationship has evolved, but no, it isn't Steve."

Josh subsided back into silence, crossing his legs and pulling at a magazine, covering a yawn behind his hands. So, if not Steve, then who?

Chapter 25

Riley woke to a new day, the light bright. Jack's face was the first he saw. His husband was slouched in the chair, breathing deeply, stubble lining his face and his hands crossed across his stomach.

"Jack," he croaked, his throat raw. He watched as Jack blinked sleep away and sat upright.

"Hey," Jack said softly, standing and pressing the button for the nurse, who arrived quickly, relieving the minute or so of uncomfortable and embarrassed silence.

She bustled around Riley, lifting the head of his bed and maneuvering him into a more upright position. He was grateful the pain in his chest was currently numbed with meds. She finally left, leaving only Jack in the room with him. Memories and emotions swirled unchecked around them, waiting to be dealt with.

"So," Jack started, "thank you. For coming in to help me, but mostly for stopping Solo from hurting Beth."

Riley nodded and half smiled. "Better squashing a six-four muscle man than an itty bitty girl, eh?" he joked, glancing down at his bandages, a flush of embarrassment climbing his face. Jack sighed and moved closer to sit on the side of the bed.

"Don't do that. Don't discount what you did like that. It was taking too long to get Taylor out on my own. She was terrified. I wouldn't have had time to go back for Solo. But when you came in—"

"I think I freakin' fainted," Riley interrupted crossly, and Jack snorted.

"Nah, I think it was more likely you passed out due to the internal bleeding from the nicked artery," Jack pointed out pragmatically.

"That sounds a damn sight more manly than fainting," Riley finally said, his voice getting scratchier and his eyelids starting to droop.

"Hang on," Jack said, sliding off the bed and disappearing out of the door.

He came back with people in tow, Eden, Beth, and Josh and a very pale Donna. It was Eden who climbed up to curl up next to her brother, but it was Donna the Campbells let through first as they crowded around his bed.

"Riley," she said, leaning over and kissing him on the forehead. "For Beth and Jack, thank you."

* * * *

Jack made his excuses, needing to meet the veterinarian back at the Double D, and one by one the others made their excuses to go. Riley assumed they felt he needed time on his own with Eden, who remained curled close to her big brother, clinging to his hospital gown, her knuckles white with the pressure. Riley held her close, not remembering the last time his confident sassy sister had come to him for comfort.

"I think I'm going to be friends with Beth," she whispered into his chest. "She's pregnant, and so sick. Did Jack tell you that?" Riley's closed his eyes with shame. That his sister sat here, her heart in her voice, and to know what he'd done to Jack and his sister was too much.

"That's good, Eden. She needs friends," he offered instead, his fingers digging into his sister's long hair as if to anchor himself to his sister's world of innocence where there were no secrets and no lies.

"Riley, I have something I need to talk to you about," she said quietly, and he shifted slightly, leaning closer, his head spinning a little from the meds. "It's about the transfusion. When they brought you in, you needed blood. A lot of blood. They didn't have your type match, and mom and I weren't matches."

Riley waited for her to say more, to explain the point, then suddenly put two and two together. "Did Dad donate the blood?" Eden uncurled herself from his side, placing her feet flat on the floor.

"Your father donated the blood you needed, only it wasn't Daddy. It would never be Daddy, 'cause, Riley," tears choked her voice, "he isn't your dad."

"What do you mean?" A frown creased his forehead.

"Jim. Riley, he's your father."

* * * *

Jim Bailey was not one to mope or sulk. Life threw what it wanted at him, and he dealt with it. From falling in love at eighteen with the boss's wife, to dealing with the devil by not claiming his son as his. Now, though, he stood outside Riley's door, trying to get up the courage to open it. When Jack came up next to him with a coffee and a smile, the simple words "Have you been in to see Riley?" were enough to make him turn tail and run.

"No, no, I haven't." he stuttered in reply, still staring at the door. Jack frowned and pushed the door opened

"Come on in then. He'll be pleased for the company," Jack said simply and walked in.

Eden was curled up again with Riley, her eyes wide and tear-filled. Riley was stiff and unyielding, and fury was carved into his face. "What's wrong?" he asked quickly, hurriedly placing his coffee on the table by the door and crossing to Riley. "What's happened?"

"Me," Jim said as he closed the door. "Me," he repeated. "I happened."

Jack rounded on him. "What the fuck did you do? Did Hayes send you? What have you done?"

"Jack, wait," Riley interrupted. He drew in a breath, looking at Jim, but Jim couldn't look him in the eyes.

"Riley—" Jim began, but Riley waved a hand in a gesture of no
.

"I just can't believe what Eden told me," Riley started, turning his head away from them all for a moment. When he turned back, his eyes were wet with tears, and the spark of something else. Something real. "All along I thought it was me, you know. I thought that I wasn't good enough. Not strong enough or smart enough.
That
was the reason Gerald Hayes hated me. But I was wrong. The problem wasn't me. It was him, because I'm guessing he knew. He knew he wasn't my father." He stopped.

"We loved each other, Riley, your mom and I," Jim said quietly. "We were going to leave. She used to have a good heart, loved music, art and books. I loved her, and when she told me she was pregnant, I was the happiest man alive. You have to believe me."

Riley dropped the smile, a mask of seriousness falling over his face. "I do believe you. I want you to know one thing."

He paused, long enough for Jim to insert an encouraging, "What?"

"Jim, I couldn't be happier."

* * * *

Jack helped Riley from the car. Grumpy Riley had long since been replaced by thank-fuck-I'm-out-of-the-hospital Riley. It was with smiles that he climbed the steps to the Campbell home, Jack refusing to take him to the Hayes mansion this side of hell freezing over. He took the younger man to the back rooms, Jack's rooms, all the while listening to Riley muttering about how he could damn well walk himself.

The next day, grumpy Riley came back with a vengeance.

"I am having a freakin' shower."

"Stand up by yourself for more than thirty seconds and the shower is all yours."

"Fuck you, Campbell," Riley spat out, trying to stand and failing miserably.

"Campbell-Hayes," Jack reminded him with a grin, kind of enjoying the whole poor-Riley thing.

"And I say again, fuck you."

Jack took pity on him, locking the bedroom door, crossing to the bathroom and coming back with a basin, soap, a cloth and a towel. "Sponge bath," he said with a smirk.

"No freakin' way," Riley shouted, loud enough to be heard through the house, pulling his covers up around his neck and, for all the world, looking like a five year old.

"Bed bath and blow job or nothing."

Riley slit his eyes. "Blow job?" he asked carefully.

"No shower. You let
me
clean you up, you get a hand job or a blow job. Depends how clean I get ya. I mean I'm cleaning you anyway, no biggie." Jack shrugged.

"Jeez, Campbell. Hayes," he added the other name quickly as Jack opened his mouth to correct his husband.

Smirking again —
enough with the smirking
— Jack pulled off his jeans and half climbed on the bed to straddle Riley, lifting off his shirt and exposing acres of hospital-pale skin.

"Ready?" he asked softly.

"Shouldn't I be the one gettin' naked?" Riley pointed out.

"It's more fun this way, and I tell you what, don't hurt yourself but where I touch you… you touch me back." He ghosted a finger over Riley's T-shirt-covered chest, scratching at the material across his nipple, and pulling his hand back. "Now it's your turn, Het-boy."

Carefully he placed Riley's hand against his bare chest, directly over his heart, and waited. Riley had a frown of concentration on his face that would rival a pre-schooler in a spelling bee. But he moved his fingers slowly, across heated skin and away from Jack's steady heartbeat, to focus on the left nipple, skimming it gently before applying pressure. Jack pushed into just the simple touch of the fingers to his nipple, and he swore. Riley smirked. He moved his fingers to touch the other nipple, the look of concentration replaced by one of uncovered lust.

With the damp cloth, Jack touched shoulders, arm muscles, fingers to fingers, eyes, cheekbones, and each time Riley repeated every motion. The heat pooling in Jack's groin at just exchanging these touches was so hot it was burning him. He pulled back the covers, pushing and pulling at material until finally Riley lay completely naked beneath him, his long limbs stretched out on pristine white sheets, his dick hard and weeping.

"Stop staring," Riley breathed, moving his hips as Jack settled himself between his legs.

"Freak," Jack pointed out, leaning down and gently blowing onto damp skin, watching as the hairs stood tall and the shiver ran through his lover's body. "You are gorgeous," he said, his voice little more than a growl. "Beautiful. I just want to stare."

Riley groaned at the words, then Jack bent and licked a broad strip from root to tip of Riley's sex, looking up directly into Riley's eyes. He dipped his head, touching the tip of his tongue to the collecting pre-cum, taking Riley in as far as he could before pulling back and off.

"What?" Riley forced out, arching up in a silent plea.

"Last time we could chalk it up to drink, timing, the storm, stress. This time, Riley, it should be because we choose it. There's a big difference."

"Jeez, you have your mouth on my dick!"

"Your choice, Het-boy."

Riley managed to tell Jack everything he wanted by simply curling his fingers in Jack's hair and pulling him back down on his dick. "Keep going, cowboy."

Jack smiled even as he concentrated on laving at the pearls of pre-cum collected at the tip.

* * * *

Jack spent ages just kissing, licking, and biting on his inner thigh, before Riley's whines became more forceful, his hands guiding and pushing Jack down and then up, until Jack got with the freaking plan.

His chest hurt, and the bandages pulled as he twisted his head, but he swallowed the pain, the heat inside him pushing at his spine. He was so close. He wanted Jack to touch him like he had before.

"Touch me," he ordered, his voice broken in the demands of lust.

He felt Jack chuckle, felt the vibrations in his dick, keening as Jack moved his fingers, just circling, not pushing, just applying pressure, until every single inch of Riley was on fire. The pleasure-pain was too much, and he couldn't stop himself even if he tried, trying to tell Jack in amongst the whimpers of pain to warn he was about to—

He opened his mouth in a silent scream as orgasm hit him, and he pumped into Jack's mouth, helpless in his needs. Jack was swallowing and sucking, catching him as he fell to earth, still chuckling as he pulled his mouth off and climbed his lover to exchange a heated kiss.

"Your turn," Jack whispered quietly, taking Riley's hand and placing it on his dick.

Riley's eyes widened, even in the afterglow, as he closed his hand firmly and started to move it like he would on his own dick, just this side of rough, his thumb trailing through pre-cum every other stroke, twisting and touching and feeling. He watched Jack try to form words for this experience —Riley's first time with him— but he didn't last long, obviously close after taking Riley to the edge. With his free hand, Riley reached out to twist Jack's hair, pulling his face down for kisses. Sealing his mouth to Jack, he tongue-fucked his mouth, exchanging heated breaths and feeling Jack still as he came over Riley's hand.

Breathing hard, Jack slumped down next to Riley. Talking could wait.

* * * *

It was the first time Gerald had ever raised a hand to her, a slap that sent her reeling against the wall and to the floor.

"You told him. And told him to go the hospital. You stupid bitch. We could have let Riley die naturally, and we could have stopped having to worry about Riley if you'd just kept quiet."

He walked away, leaving her dry-eyed and shocked on the floor. She hated herself for the deal she'd made, and he clearly hated that for a short time she'd found comfort in another man's arms, but their relationship had always been civil at least. A mutually beneficial marriage, her old money, his new money, how could it go wrong?

Still, she was a mother, with a mother's instincts. Deeply hidden maybe, but still there. Inside somewhere, she had love for her son. How could she not save his life? For Sandra Hayes, this was the point at which she finally died inside, because no part of the old Sandra remained. Nothing. The last piece of that civility in her marriage wrenched away from her heart, leaving her empty.

The pills were easy to find. The doctor had been happy to prescribe sleeping pills over the last few years. They sat in her bathroom, steady and welcoming, and the warnings on the bottle were always very clear. Don't mix with alcohol.

The whisky, gin and brandy… Well, they were also
very
easy to find.

Sandra stared for a long time at the amber liquid in the glass, at the high sun filtering through the crystal and casting rainbows of design on the marble top of her dressing table. The pills lay in her hand. She had counted them, and there were twenty-nine of them sitting in a small pile, the chalkiness of them strange against her soft skin. She looked at them carefully and then lifted her eyes to look at her face in the mirror. Nearly unlined, with full makeup, her hair just so, diamonds sparking at her ears, a necklace flat against her graceful neck. None of it was real. Cosmetics and a surgeon's knife had held back the years, just so she could be what others expected, what she had wanted to be, what she tried so hard to be.