Gray looked toward the kitchen door as Murphy opened it. Con darted in ahead, sat at Gray's feet, laid his head in Gray's lap. Even as Gray lifted a hand to stroke the dog's ears, his smile of greeting faded.
"What is it?" He found himself springing to his feet, rattling the cups on the table. Murphy's face was too set, his eyes too dark. "What's happened?"
"There's been an accident. Brianna's been hurt."
"What do you mean she's hurt?" he demanded over Iris's murmur of distress.
"Maggie called me. There was an accident when Brie was driving from the car park to the shop where Maggie and the baby were waiting." Murphy took off his cap, a matter of habit, then squeezed his fingers on the brim. "I'll take you up to Galway. She's in the hospital there."
"Hospital." Standing there Gray felt, physically felt, the blood draining out of him. "How bad? How bad is it?"
"Maggie wasn't sure. She didn't think it was too bad, but she was waiting to hear. I'll take you to Galway, Grayson. I thought we'd use your car. It'd be faster."
"I need the keys." His brain felt dull, useless. "I have to get the keys."
"Don't let him drive," Iris said when Gray streaked from the room.
"No, ma'am, I won't be letting him do that."
Murphy didn't have to argue. He simply took the keys from Gray's hand and got behind the wheel. Since Gray said nothing, Murphy concentrated on finessing all the speed the Mercedes was built for. Another time, perhaps, he would have appreciated the response the sleek car offered. For now he simply used it.
For Gray the trip was endless. The glorious scenery of the west rushed by, but they seemed to make no progress. It was like animation, he thought dimly, run over and over again, cel by cel, while he could do nothing but sit.
And wait.
She wouldn't have gone if he hadn't bullied her into it. But he'd pressured her to go out, to take a day. So she'd gone to Galway, and now she was... Christ, he didn't know what she was, how she was, and couldn't bear to imagine it.
"I should have gone with her."
With the car cruising near ninety, Murphy didn't bother to glance over. "You'll make yourself sick thinking that way. We're nearly there now, then we'll see." "I bought her the fucking car."
"True enough." The man didn't need sympathy, Murphy thought, but practicality. "And you weren't driving the one who hit it. To my way of thinking, if she'd been in that rusted bucket she had before, things would be worse." "We don't know how bad they are." "We soon will. So hang on to yourself until we do." He slipped off an exit, slowed, and began to maneuver through denser traffic. "It's likely she's fine and will give us grief for driving all this way."
He turned into the hospital car park. They'd no more climbed out and started for the doors when they spotted Rogan walking the baby. "Brianna." It was all Gray could say. "She's all right. They want to keep her through the night at least, but she's all right."
The feeling went out of Gray's legs so that he took Rogan's arm as much for balance as for emphasis. "Where? Where is she?"
"They've just put her in a room on the sixth floor. Maggie's with her yet. I brought her mother and Lottie along with me. They're up there as well. She's-" He broke off, shifting to block Gray from rushing the entrance. "She's banged up, and I think she's hurting more than she's letting on. But the doctor told us she's very lucky. Some bruises from the seat belt, which kept it from being worse. Her shoulder's wrenched, and that's causing the most pain. She's a knot on her head, and some cuts. They want her kept quiet for twenty-four hours." "I need to see her."
"I know that." Rogan stood his ground. "But she doesn't need to see how upset you are. She's one who'll take that to heart and worry over it."
"Okay." Fighting for balance, Gray pressed his fingers to his eyes. "All right. We'll keep it calm, but I have to see her for myself."
"I'll go up with you," Murphy said and led the way in.
Keeping his own counsel, he said nothing as they waited for the elevator.
"Why are they all here?" Gray demanded when the elevator opened. "Why are they here, Maggie, her mother. Rogan, Lottie, if she's all right?"
"They're family." Murphy pushed the button for six. "Where else would they be? Now, about three years past I broke an arm and cracked my head playing football. I couldn't get rid of one sister, but another would be at the door. My mother stayed for two weeks, no matter what I did to boost her on her way. And to tell the truth, I was glad to have them fussing around me. Don't go off in a mad rush," Murphy warned as the elevator stopped. "Irish nurses run a tight ship. And here's Lottie."
"Gracious, you must have flown all the way." She came forward, her smile all reassurance. "She's doing fine, they're taking grand care of her. Rogan arranged for her to have a private room so she'd have quiet and privacy. She's already fretting about going home, but with the concussion, they'll want to keep an eye on her."
"Concussion?"
"A mild one, really," she soothed, leading them down the hallway. "It doesn't seem she was unconscious for more than a few moments. And she was lucid enough to tell the man at the car park where Maggie was waiting. Look here, Brianna, you've more visitors already."
All Gray could see was Brianna, white against white sheets.
"Oh, Gray, Murphy, you shouldn't have come all this way. I'll be going home shortly."
"You'll not." Maggie's voice was firm. "You're staying the night."
Brianna started to turn her head, but the throbbing made her think better of it. "I don't want to stay the night. Bumps and bruises is all it is. Oh, Gray, the car. I'm so sorry about the car. The side of it's all bent in, and the headlamp's smashed, and-"
"Shut up, will you, and let me look at you?" He took her hand, held on.
She was pale, and a bruise had bloomed along her cheekbone. Above it, on the brow side of the temple was a neat white bandage. Beneath the shapeless hospital gown he could see more bandages at her shoulder.
Because his hand began to tremble, he drew it away, jammed it in his pocket. "You're hurting. I can see it in your eyes."
"My head aches." She smiled weakly, lifting a finger to the bandage. "I feel a bit like I've been run over by an entire rugby team."
"They should give you something."
"They will, if I need it."
"She's skittish of needles," Murphy said and leaned over to kiss her lightly. His own relief at seeing her whole showed itself in a wide, cheeky grin. "I remember hearing you howl, Brianna Concannon, when I was in Dr. Hogan's waiting room and you were getting a shot."
"And I'm not ashamed of it. Horrible things, needles. I don't want them poking me more than they already have. I want to go home."
"You'll stay just where you are." Maeve spoke from a chair beneath the window. "It's little enough to have a needle or two after the fright you've given us."