“Uncle Ty?”
Ty let out the breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding.
Stepping out of the house, Harry and Nita took in the scene before them.
“What the hell is going on here?”
Eleanor could recall very few times of sitting in a hospital waiting area. At least, from her current point of view as an anxious family member waiting to hear news.
Family member.
She wasn’t really family.
But the baby inside her was William’s cousin, was a part of this family.
She glanced at Ty. He sat slumped over, eyes closed. He’d barely said a word to her since they’d followed the ambulance to the hospital. His mother had sat in the front seat next to him and she and Nita had shared the backseat of the king cab Triple D pickup. Harry had ridden in the ambulance with his son and father.
When they’d arrived, Ty’s mother had been allowed to stay with her husband while he was checked over just to make sure his reaction had only been one of stress. Harry and Nita were both with William. Which left Eleanor and Ty alone in the emergency room waiting area.
Ty opened his eyes, caught her watching him. His expression tightened. “I’m sorry you missed your flight.”
“Really? You think I’m worried about my flight?”
“I thought you were all set to get out of Texas as quickly as possible.”
Eleanor’s eyes closed and she prayed for strength to see her through the rest of this stressful day. “I thought you were upset with me and I panicked.”
“Why the hell would I have been upset with you?”
“Because of what I said to your father.”
“When you defended me? Hell, darlin’, I thought you were great. Brilliant. I didn’t want you to leave.”
“You weren’t upset?”
“At you? Never,” he answered without hesitation. “My father is a different sto
ry altogether. Hell, we’ll both just leave. I’ll go back to New York with you.”
“But the rodeo—”
“The rodeo was just an excuse to get me home,” he interrupted, sitting up in his seat. “My mother hoped my father and I would work things out, but that’s never going to happen. We’re too different. He is never going to understand me and I quit trying to make him understand years ago.”
He stood, moved next to where she sat.
“Thank you for trying, though, Ellie.”
Ellie. He’d called her Ellie.
That’s all it took for the dam of emotions to break loose within Eleanor. She’d been holding them at bay so staunchly, trying to be strong during all the afternoon’s drama, but hearing the nickname destroyed all her resolve.
Because when Ty had called her Eleanor earlier, she’d hurt. Deep down hurt.
Because she wasn’t Eleanor.
Not with Ty.
She was Ellie.