“Ashley would have loved that,” Madigan said.
Tears spilled from Ginger’s eyes as she touched the photos of Ashley that had been printed onto the fabric: Ashley with all three of her brothers, Ashley with Conroy and Ginger, Ashley and Grandpa Mike, and a few others with Reba and Preacher’s family. Conroy put his arm around Ginger, his own eyes dampening. Reba and Madigan leaned against Preacher, as emotional as Ginger and Conroy. Even Chloe and Leah got teary-eyed.
“These pictures,” Ginger said. “How did you get this done?”
“Zeke found a company that makes pictures into fabric,” Leah explained. “I have the information if you want to get more.”
“What more could we want?” Conroy said. “You’ve given us a way to celebrate our little girl. How can we ever thank you?”
Tears slid down Leah’s cheeks. “You just did.”
After several teary embraces, too much gushing, a little laughter, and a lot of love, Conroy draped the blanket over the back of the couch in the living room, and he and Preacher went to put the leaves in the dining room table, while Leah and the ladies went into the kitchen to finish getting dinner ready.
Ginger turned on the radio and got everyone started on making the sides. Madigan and Ginger sang to the music, and the rest of them hummed along. Leah peeled potatoes on the counter next to the sink and peeked outside at the girls playing while the guys horsed around.
“Leah, would you make a wedding blanket for me and Justin?” Chloe asked.
“I would love to.”
“How about a baby blanket?” Reba urged.
“Way to pressure her, Mom,” Madigan teased. “They don’t even have a wedding date yet.”
“Actually, we do.” Chloe placed another marshmallow on the sweet potato casserole, grinning like a peacock. “Justin got a call yesterday about a cancellation at Ocean Edge Resort, and he booked the second weekend in January. Now all we have to do is pull it all together.”
They all talked at once, congratulating Chloe and offering to help plan the wedding.
“It’ll be fun to plan with everyone,” Chloe said. “I meant what I said before, Leah. If you’ll make us a wedding blanket, I’ll make you a memory book with your pictures.”
“Sure. That sounds great,” Leah said.
Reba whispered, “Baby blanket.”
“Mom.” Madigan shook her head.
Reba looked up from the vegetables she was cutting. “I’m just inquiring about blankets. I’m not saying they need to have babies right away.”
“Yeah, right,” Ginger said sarcastically.
“You can borrow Juju and Rosie anytime you’d like, Reba,” Leah offered.
Reba winked. “I will take you up on that offer, sweetheart. Your girls have got everyone wrapped around their little fingers. Junie reminds me so much of Preacher, and of Tank when he was young.”
“Doesn’t she?” Ginger said. “I swear Leah and Tank were meant to be.”
Leah tucked away that happy thought.
Over the next hour, sides went into the oven and simmered on the stove, the guys came in and out of the kitchen, stealing tastes and being shooed out the door. Everyone told stories of past holidays, and Leah loved sharing stories about her dad and River.
“Leah, can you pull the green bean casserole out of the lower oven, please?” Ginger asked from across the kitchen.
“Sure. Everything smells so good.” Leah grabbed potholders, and as she pulled the casserole out of the oven, heat spread over her face, and all at once she felt a crushing sensation in her chest and back. The air rushed from her lungs, and Tank’s desperate voice slammed into her—Lee—echoing in her head. The dish fell from her shaking hands, shattering at her feet as she stumbled backward, clutching at her chest, gasping for air that wouldn’t come, choking out, “Tank” with every ragged inhalation. Someone put an arm around her, shouting about calling for help as she struggled for breath. Leah eked out another “Tank” with a painful inhalation. Tears flooded down her cheeks as his anguished face appeared before her eyes, and a pained, I’m sorry, Lee, hit her with the impact of a freight train, and she finally gulped air into her lungs and shouted, “Nooo!” She fought against whoever was holding her. “Tank. I need to get to Tank!”
The kitchen door flew open, and Baz charged in with Grandpa Mike on his heels, their faces sheet-white. Leah broke free and ran to them, grabbing Baz’s shirt and pleading through her sobs. “Where is he? What happened?”
“Sean called. They were checking out a gas leak and they cleared the building, but some kid said his sister was still inside. Tank ran back in. He got the girl, but there was an explosion as he carried her out. They were thrown across the parking lot, and he used his body to shield her from the impact. His head hit the pavement. It’s bad. He was unresponsive when they rushed him to the hospital.”
“No!” Leah screamed as Tank’s voice pummeled her—I’m sorry, Lee. I love you—and she collapsed into darkness.
Chapter Twenty-One
LEAH SAT ON a chair in the waiting room between Ginger and Madigan, eyes closed, pressing her forehead to her clasped hands, throwing out silent prayers as she rocked forward and back. Grandpa Mike, Chloe, and Zeke had stayed with the girls, but everyone else, and it looked like half the town, was at the hospital waiting for news about Tank. He’d been knocked unconscious and suffered a subdural hematoma and broken ribs. The doctor had said terrifying things Leah wished she hadn’t heard—deadliest of head injuries, compressed brain tissue, possibility of brain injury. He’d been in surgery for hours, and every minute felt like a lifetime.
She hadn’t heard Tank’s voice since she’d passed out, and that petrified her. She clutched her locket. River, Dad, if you can hear me, please don’t let Tank join you. Send him back to us. We need him. Tears flowed down her cheeks, and she whispered to Tank as she rocked, “Come back to me. You have to be okay. Please.”
Conroy knelt before her. “Are you okay, sweetheart?”
Leah looked at him through the blur of tears. “I didn’t want to get close to him because I wanted to protect the girls.”
“Protect them from Tank? I don’t understand.”
“Protect them from this. From loving him. We might lose him. He promised he’d never leave us.” It wasn’t a rational thing to say. She knew that, and Conroy was the last person she should be crying to, because his pain was surely equal to hers, but she could no sooner hold it in than she could have kept from falling in love with Tank in the first place.
Conroy took her hands in his. “He’s going to be okay. He made you a promise, and Wickeds always keep their promises.”
Sobs burst from Leah’s lungs, and she fell into his arms, clinging to him as she cried. She felt Ginger’s hand on her back, and then Conroy said, “Tank has never had more of a reason to fight for anything in his life. He’s going to pull through this.”
Leah nodded, wanting—needing—to believe it.
Conroy’s face was a mask of strength, like almost everyone else’s in there. The room was bursting with love and support from family and friends consoling them, but she saw the underlying fear in their eyes. It was hard to escape that kind of terror, especially when she had it in her heart. She could barely breathe. She kept hearing Tank’s desperate voice in her head, telling her he was sorry and he loved her. And she couldn’t stop thinking about the last time she’d been at that hospital when she’d lost River.