Cowboy Casanova

Chapter 49

Is this woman my mother? Before giving it much thought, I let my mind speak for me.

"Mom?" I ask, my voice sounding dry. She evaluates me.

"Wow..." She says, grinning as she studies me, head to toe. "Ain't you somethin'?" She says with her rough voice. Tears begin to fill my eyes as realization comes in.

"Why are you here now, Mama?" I ask. I'm kindly answered with a smile.

"Because I needed to see my baby." She says, slowly brushing her finger between my eyebrows. She used to do that to make me fall asleep. I smile, and begin to feel at ease. I feel the tenseness in my body release, as I hear the door open slowly. The lights of the hallway momentarily blind me as gentle footsteps make their way beside my mother. I hear it cease as the leather couch groans. I rub my eyes, hoping to cause them to adjust faster, but it aches my head even more. I feel hands caress my arm and pull my hands away from my eyes.

"Be careful honey, don't hurt yourself." A kind, southern voice says. I open my eyes to see Tim sitting beside my mother. He smiles gently at me, making sure he doesn't alarm me. I release a smile back to him, hoping to make him feel more comfortable.

"What happened?" I ask, hearing myself slurr. He holds my hand in his, and slowly studies it, before looking back at me. His fingers continue to trace the lines on my hand as he speaks.

"Your head just had a problem, sweetheart. Kendricks is taking care of it." He explains softly. He sighs a sigh that anyone would think is regular, but I know he's scared, if not, horrified of something. It's not fluent, or even steady and refreshing... It's shaky and tense...

"What's wrong with me, Tim?" I ask. He shakes his head.

"Nothin' baby." He says, his voice giving way. "Everythin's going to be alright." He finishes. He sits for a moment before clearing his throat. He looks down at the ground to hide his face, as I see his fingers wipe away mostiure on his cheeks. My throat feels tight as my mind wanders. Mom rubs his back, and whispers something in his ear. I see him nod and glance up at me. His eyes are red and bloodshot. He looks as if he hasn't shaved, or slept, in weeks. Wrinkles are appearing around his eyes and forehead. He looks worn. He looks back down at the ground and excuses himself. He leaves without giving me another glance.

"Mama, what's wrong?" I ask. I feel like a child again. I don't know anything, and nobody will let me know.

"Tim's just a little tired honey." She says, going back to rubbing between my eyebrows. I let out a little frown, doing no justice to how I really feel.

"What's wrong with me?" I ask. She breathes in heavily and holds it in for a moment, before letting out one big exhale. She looks out at the hallway and back to me almost a million times in the period of silence. She seems to be searching for Tim, of whom she just sent away. "Mom?" I ask, she looks at me. I spot sorrow in her eyes. My chest feels tight as I think through the possiblities.

"Here, just give me a second. I'll be right back, I promise darlin'." She says, getting up and giving me a kiss on the forehead. I think of the last promise she made to return... She leaves the room, looking both ways as she walks out, and finally turning left. I smile, knowing Tim went to the right.

I sit up on the side of the bed. I need to talk to Tim. I need him to explain what's going on. I need to find him... I stand up, a little shaky at first. I pull out my IV and grimice in pain. I begin to slowly walk towards the door, feeling every ounce of pain from every wound I've ever had. I open the door, using more force than I originally thought was required. I slowly stumble to the right. I make it to the end of the hallway, before it splits into two different hallways. I take a deep breath and think about where he would go. I go to the right, again, in a moment of gut instinct. Right as I round the corner, I see him there sitting on a window sill. His head is in his hands, as he seems to be crying. I slowly approach him, knowing he's not aware of my presence. I sit beside him and rub his back. He looks up and spots me, seeming to be embarrassed.

"What are you doing, honey?" He says quietly, quickly wiping his tears before looking up at me.

"I had to talk to you..." I say, placing my hand on his arm. He looks down at it and smiles.

"About what?" He asks, reaching up to rub my cheek.

"About what's really wrong with me." I say slowly. His smile fades as I see the vein in his neck throb.

"Don't worry about-" He starts.

"Stop." I cut him off. He looks at me with defeat. "Tell me what's wrong.... I need to know what's wrong..." I say, begin to cry. The amount of pain in his eyes grows with every tear that develops in my eyes. He wraps his arms around me, like he were holding one of the girls. He's never held me like this. It's like he's trying to comfort and protect me, while comforting himself. Something's wrong. I feel myself heave like a child and he rocks me back and forth.

"It's nothing you need to worry yourself about." He croaks. I fill myself cry harder with helplessness.

"Why?" I cry out. "Why won't anyone tell me..." I say, pulling away from him. His mouth hangs open, looking for words.

"I... baby..." Is all he manages to utter.

"If I'm going to die, then tell me... If something's wrong, you need to tell me." I say, wiping my own tears. He looks weak.... I've never been able to say that about him till now. This is the first time I've ever seen him helpless, weak, and afraid.

"Faith... I can't..." He says. I get up and start to walk away. I hear him sigh anxiously as I start off back to my room.

I make it around the corner, before a pounding noise fills my ears. I hit the ground, covering my ears. The metallic screams fill my ears. I feel myself scream in an attempt to drown them out. I close my eyes tightly, and feel my body get painfully tense. I feel as if I'm intwined in barbed wire, getting progressively tighter, as I struggle to release myself from it's deadly grip.

I feel myself twitch as the tenseness becomes unbareable. I feel like if anyone touched me, I'd break into pieces. I feel like a china doll, glued into a position. I feel a hand grace my face. I painfully force my eyes open to see my whole world trembling.

I see Tim, speaking to me in words I cannot make out. His hands shake as he tries to cradle me close to him. I can feel myself scream louder, fore him holding me is like slamming the wire tighter in my skin. He doesn't understand, and tries to cradle me once more. I feel myself attempt to crawl away, only looking like a fish out of water.

He stops, and tries to comfort me out of his arms. He's speaking. I can only hear a dim echo of his words. The swirling sounds all make a mush of collided words, phrases, and "I love you's". His helplessness only causes me more pain, as a crowd of people now stand gathered around me. Kendricks is now next to me, looking frantic. He pushes Tim back, only to have Tim push his way back in towards me. Kendricks stabs a needle in the back of my head as I feel a chill. For a moment, the pain ceases. I begin to feel my body loosen, as they get a gurney to help me. Tim helps lift me up.

But while they lift me up, the pain comes on much more quickly and vigorously than before. I shake, causing most of them to lose grip. Their fingers feel like daggers, as I feel them slide away, some returning with harder grips. People watch and cover their gaping mouths, as they watch most of the men drop me. Tim never loses hold of me, primarily because in fear, his grip is crushing me. He holds onto my side, as Kendricks holds onto my shoulders. The gurney tips, as one of the guys lets go of my other side. In a brief moment of chaos, Kendricks hand slips, causing me to hit the ground, head first. Tim's, however, did not release. It was crushing my bones, and still could not save me from hitting the ground. I feel myself continue to shake as they struggle, once again, to get me on the stretcher. Kendricks manages to get me on without hurting me this time. They rush me down the hallway, leaving Tim behind.