“Jeanette.” Dr. Andrews turned the corner and walked toward them. “Can you take these files back to my office? I have a follow-up appointment a few doors down, but that’s in two minutes.”
“Of course.” The nurse took his files from him, smiled at Cheyenne, and took off at a brisk pace toward the end of the hall before disappearing around another corner.
“Ms. Gaderow was awake for almost fifteen minutes earlier this afternoon.” Dr. Andrews glanced at the door to Ember’s room. “She didn’t speak as far as I know, so it’s plausible she’s still in shock. She’s sleeping again.”
“Hmm.” Cheyenne stuck her hands in her pockets and eyed the door, wanting to be there if Ember woke up again. Cheyenne wouldn’t be able to leave her in time to get to her mom’s. That wouldn’t go very well for her later, but if Ember could talk to her, her mom could wait. “Is that normal?”
“I’m sorry?”
She kept her gaze on Dr. Andrews. “Not the shock part. I get that. I mean, all the sleeping.”
“Sometimes. Everyone handles trauma differently. But we’ve found nothing alarming. As long as her vitals stay within normal range, and she’s responding well to the surgery and any other treatments, we’ll let her come out of it in her own time.”
“Has anybody else come to see her? Like her family?”
Dr. Andrews opened his mouth and closed it again with a sympathetic frown. “That’s one of those things I don’t have the liberty to share with you.”
“Right. ‘Cause I’m not family. I get it.”
“You’re more than welcome to visit for a bit.” The doctor glanced at his wristwatch. “You still have about an hour and a half.”
“Okay.”
He nodded at her with a reassuring smile and headed a few doors down before stepping into his next appointment. Cheyenne approached the door to Ember’s room and peered inside, cupping her hands around her eyes at the narrow, rectangular window. She couldn’t see her friend’s face, but Ember’s hair was fanned out behind her on the pillow as she lay on her side facing the window.
The halfling stepped back and stuck her hands into her pockets. Rolling over’s a good sign, I guess. And I should leave before I miss my chance at cocktail hour with Bianca. I can’t screw this one up.
She shut the door and went toward the front of the inpatient wing. Just before she reached the automatic doors, a tingle of being watched crawled along the back of her neck. Cheyenne moved faster, grateful the doors opened so she didn’t run through them.
Either I’m losing my mind, or there’s someone tailing me. If that’s it, they’re good.
She waited until she’d crossed the parking lot and was halfway to her car before turning around to reassure herself. A tall man in a VCU baseball cap was a few yards behind her. She met his gaze like he’d been staring at her the whole time as they crossed the lot together. He flashed her a smile and veered toward another car.
If it’s even his.
The double-beep of the car being remotely unlocked echoed across the parking lot. Cheyenne sighed.
I swear I’m not overreacting. What am I missing?
Chapter Twenty-Eight
That feeling of being watched faded after the first ten minutes in the car. Cheyenne let herself settle into the familiarity of the route out of the city and pulling up in front of the house that represented her childhood.
Twenty-something years ago, Bianca had moved to the family farm that used to belong to her parents, who’d both passed in early 2000.
Just in time to miss the scandal of Bianca Summerlin’s pregnancy out of wedlock.
Cheyenne pulled off the freeway onto the dirt road and headed farther into the Henry County countryside. Her mom hadn’t told her much about her first few months up here on her own, although the halfling knew more about those events than she knew about her father. A young, aspiring research economist with a promising future in politics retiring to the backcountry on a whim.
Bianca Summerlin never stopped working to have her only child, and she’d raised Cheyenne as best she knew how within the six-bedroom lodge home. Nothing stopped her from giving Cheyenne the best education available and access to every luxury Cheyenne hinted at wanting when she was younger, although it wasn’t much since Cheyenne had never been a materialistic child.
“It’s nice to be back here in the woods.” Cheyenne proceeded up the gravel drive toward the main house and scanned the manicured lawn at the edge of the forest.
I’m looking for deer right now.
Shaking her head, she turned her attention toward the reason she was coming here. The conversation would not be a surprise for either of the Summerlin women, not this time. “I need to be ready for whatever she tells me.”
She glanced at her backpack in the passenger seat, knowing what she’d brought with her could make the conversation go one of two ways. Either it would convince her mom to lay everything on the table, or it would make the woman clam up. Cheyenne hoped she wouldn’t have to pull it out over drinks on the back patio and shove a blast from Bianca’s past under her nose, but if it came to that, she would.
She hoped her mom would respond with option number one.
The Focus crunched to a slow stop on the drive in front of the large French doors at the top of the wide, curved steps leading into the house. Cheyenne left her keys in the ignition. No one out here to steal a car. Steal anything. A thief had to drive over an hour off the highway to get to the Summerlin home. No point locking up.
Slinging her backpack over one shoulder, Cheyenne closed the driver’s side door and breathed in the September air. Purple asters planted in the front garden kept their bright blossoms all
