“Lie still.”
He looked to see his mother in a chair beside the bed.
“Mom,” he choked out. His throat was raw.
“Let me get you a little water. I think you can have that now.”
“Thanks.”
He watched as she stood, poured him a cup of water, then held the bent straw to his lips. He sucked in the water as much as he could before she removed it.
“Take it easy,” she said.
“I’m okay.”
“I know, but you had us all so worried, Wilder.”
“I’m sorry.” He glanced around. “Where is Dad?”
“Getting coffee. He’ll be back. He decided Rory needed to get out of here for a while.”
“Rory? I need to see her.”
“She’ll be back, honey. She's rarely left this room.”
Wilder nodded. He wanted to see her and make sure it hadn’t been a dream when she said she loved him. He loved her so much, and he wanted to spend the rest of his life with her. If she’ll have him. It was all a blur what had happened after he shot Buster. Did she know about Buster? He frowned as he tried to remember.
“I need to talk to Dave or Reece. Do you know where my phone is?”
“I’ll get it.” She walked to his jeans hanging over a chair, removed his phone, and handed it to him. “Can’t it wait?”
“No, I need to know what to tell Rory.”
“About what?”
He looked to the doorway to see Rory entering with his father.
“Rory, I—”
“We’ll let you two talk. Rona, hon, let’s take a walk.”
“All right. We’ll give you some time, you two.” Rona leaned down and kissed Wilder’s forehead, then she smiled at Rory and walked out with her husband.
Rory moved to stand beside the bed and took his hand.
“How are you?”
“Sore. Rory, did anyone tell you anything?”
“No, but I know it was Buster.”
“How?”
“At first, I thought it was Duane since it was his truck, but he came running out of the bunkhouse, then Joel and Abe did. That left one person.”
“I had trouble getting info on who was doing it to you besides Bernie and Hal. Then I saw Duane’s truck taking off. I thought it was him when I ran after him into the woods, only to find out it was Buster. I have to tell you, Rory, that I wanted to shoot him between the eyes when he stood over me after shooting me. I’m so sorry it was him.”
“Oh, Wilder, that is not your fault. I’m sorry that I kept defending him.”