“It wasn’t my choice, Caitlyn.” Maria shook her head. “It was his. I wanted to tell you.”
“But if we’d known, we could have—” Angie stopped mid-sentence. Could have what? Treated him more kindly? Spent more time with him? Not thrown a fit about riding lessons and learning to ranch? She should have been doing all that anyway.
She was Daddy’s girl. Daddy’s princess. How could she have been so shallow? How could she have considered her father’s life work so unimportant? She plunked down next to her mother, buried her face in her hands, and wept.
Shaking hands rubbed her back lightly. “Angie, he might pull through.”
Angie turned and looked up into her mother’s sunken eyes. “Might? You heard what the doctor said. They wouldn’t do the heart surgery because they were afraid he wouldn’t live through it. Now with the heart attack, they have no choice. So he’s in worse condition, and you think he’ll pull through? And if he does, the brain tumor will kill him within a month anyway.”
Her mother simply stared.
Harper sat down on her other side. “Lay off her, Angie. This is the toughest on her.”
“Harper’s right,” Catie said.
“You never even loved him,” Angie went on. “You married him because you were pregnant with me. He deserved to be loved.”
“So did Mom, Ang,” Catie said.
“We did love each other.” Maria wiped her eyes. “We grew to love each other very much. We just weren’t in love.”
“You denied him being in love?” Angie wrung her hands. “How could you?”
“I didn’t deny him anything. It was his decision to stay with me. After you came along, there was no way he would have left. He adored you, Angelina. You were the light of his eye. His princess.”
Just what she didn’t need to hear at this moment. Angie sniffed, taking the tissue Catie handed her. She’d taken her father for granted for too long. Well, no longer. If he got through this, she’d spend way more time with him. She’d learn everything in the world there was to know about ranching, and she’d make him proud.
“He was always proud of you,” her mother said softly, as though reading her mind. “All three of you.”
“We know that, Ma,” Harper said. “And he loved you too.”
“I know he did. We both sacrificed passion for you children, but that was our choice.” She looked at Angie. “And it was just as much his choice as mine.”
Angie looked up at the painting in the waiting area—all red with black splotches. She’d first seen the painting when she sat in this very room during Zach McCray’s illness over four years ago. That was the day she’d given up on Zach forever. He’d found true love with Dusty, now his wife. He’d never loved Angie the way he loved Dusty, if at all.
Truth be told, Angie hadn’t loved Zach like that either. They’d been good together, but she never felt that all-consuming fire, that crazy passion, that “can’t get you out of my mind for a minute” frenzy. She’d never felt it for Zach or anyone, so how could she describe it now?
Rafe.
She was in love with Rafe.
Damn it all to hell.
“Mrs. Bay?”
Angie looked up. The doctor, a gray-haired woman, removed her surgical mask. “He’s in ICU. He made it, but I can’t lie to you. Every minute is precious right now.”
“Can I sit with him?”
“Yes, but only you for now.”
“You kids go on home,” Maria said. “There’s nothing you can do here.”
“Are you crazy? We can’t leave,” Harper said.
“You need to be at the ranch, Harp. You know he’d want that. And Catie, you’re in a delicate condition. Go home. Angie, you look terrible. Go home and get some rest.”
“It’s over an hour drive home,” Angie said. “What if something happens?”