Chapter 18

Morgan reached out to steady herself. “Wyatt’s been in an accident. What happened?”

“He pulled a vehicle over and was standing on the side of the road talking to the driver.” Grady told her a passing car swerved and hit him.

“Someone hit him with their car?” Morgan began to feel lightheaded. “Please tell me he’s going to be okay.”

“I don’t know. He was taken to the hospital by ambulance. I’m here to offer you a ride.”

“Yes. Please.” Morgan stumbled backward, her mind going blank. All she could think about was Wyatt being injured, had been plowed over by a car. Don’t jump to conclusions. You have no idea how badly he’s hurt. “I-uh. Let me grab my purse.”

She ran back inside the house, grabbed her cell phone and purse, and ran out the door. Grady helped her into the passenger side of his patrol car before hurrying to the driver’s side.

“How could someone run another person over?” Morgan asked.

“I’ve almost been hit more times than I can count,” Grady said. “Drivers are distracted by what’s going on. It’s crazy. It’s almost like they’re drawn to the vehicles on the side of the road.”

“Or they’re looking at their cell phones, not paying attention.”

“Distracted drivers are a hazard of the job,” Grady said grimly. “Is there anyone else you can think of that we should call?”

“Wyatt’s parents, although I don’t have contact numbers for them.”

“Let’s get to the hospital, find out what we can, and go from there.” During the ride, Grady kept his voice calm and steady. And it was a good thing because her mind drifted to some very dark places.

Reaching the emergency room, Grady pulled into a designated police parking spot, only steps away from the entrance.

Both sprang from the vehicle and rushed inside. Grady took the lead and strode to the check-in desk. He told the clerk on duty why they were there.

“An ambulance brought your colleague in not long ago. I’m not sure about his condition.” The clerk told them she would check with the ER staff and hurried off.

She returned moments later, and Morgan immediately noticed the somber expression on her face. The room started to spin and she could feel herself sway.

Grady must’ve noticed, because he reached out to steady her.

“I’m sorry, but I wasn’t able to get any information. The patient has been given a code trauma level.”

Grady instinctively tightened his grip on Morgan’s arm.

“What is a code trauma level?” she whispered.

“It means the ER staff is dealing with a potentially life-threatening injury.”

It took every fiber in Morgan’s body to remain on her feet. She felt the exact same sensation as she had the moment her mother died, almost detaching from her body, standing outside of it and looking in. “All we can do is pray.”

“Yes, ma’am,” the clerk said. “I’ve requested an update as soon as possible, Officer MacDonald.”

Grady thanked the woman and led Morgan to a pair of empty chairs, away from the others in the ER’s waiting room. Completely oblivious to her surroundings, she stared blankly into space.

“I’m going to step outside and track down Wyatt’s parents. I’ll be right back.”

Morgan numbly nodded, barely registering what Grady had said. While she waited for him to return, she prayed hard…as hard as she had during those long days and nights at her mother’s bedside.

Wyatt was strong. He was a fighter. No matter how battered or injured his body was, he would be all right. He had to be.

Grady returned, the sorrow in his eyes matching Morgan’s. “Wyatt’s folks are on the way. They should be here in an hour or so.”

The minutes dragged past, achingly slow. Each time a hospital worker in a white coat appeared, Morgan’s heart leapt into her throat. While she sat glued to her seat, Grady paced.

“Are you still on duty?” she finally asked.

“No. I finished my shift.” Grady told her he was on his way home when he passed by the accident. “I saw the ambulance and Wyatt’s patrol car.” His voice faded, and Morgan could tell he was struggling to keep it together.

“It’s tough to be at an accident scene. Even tougher when it’s your best friend.”

It was true. Not only were Wyatt and Grady colleagues, but they were close friends. Best friends. They rode motorcycles together, went fishing. Even built a zipline. When Wyatt wasn’t with Morgan, he was hanging out with Grady.

Morgan slid off the seat and stood in front of him. “He’ll be okay. Wyatt is a fighter.”

“He is. But you didn’t see what I saw.”

“I’m glad I didn’t. I would be an even worse basket case than I am right now.”

“All we can do is wait,” Grady said. “And keep praying.”

Morgan lost track of the time. A dull ache settled in her chest. She tried sipping coffee but couldn’t swallow and gave up.

Finally, Wyatt’s parents arrived. Grady and Morgan met them at the door, where Grady filled them in on what little they knew. “We haven’t heard anything about his condition.”

“I’ll see if I can find out.” Wyatt’s father, Glen, approached the desk. He had a brief word with the woman who had tried to get information for Grady and returned. “We should have news soon. The woman said Wyatt’s file was in edit, which means there is some sort of update.”

Morgan placed a light hand on his mother’s arm. “Wyatt is one of the toughest people I know. He’s gonna pull through.”

“He is.”

The group gathered off to the side, talking in low voices. Another half an hour passed. While Morgan waited, she sent a text to Elizabeth, letting her know what had happened.

Her grandmother called within seconds, quietly listening while she filled her in. “I heard there was an accident, but had no idea Wyatt was involved. Would you like me to come to the hospital?”

“No. Grady MacDonald and Wyatt’s parents are here.” Morgan told her they should be getting an update soon.

“Please let me know as soon as possible.”

Morgan promised she would before ending the call. She stared at the clock. They’d been waiting for over two hours now for word about Wyatt’s condition. “Do you want me to ask Grandmother if she can pull some strings and get some sort of update?”

“Let’s give the ER staff another half hour,” Glen said. “If we don’t have news by then, we’ll ask for Elizabeth’s help.”

“I see someone now.” Kelly, Wyatt’s mother, motioned to the door.

A woman wearing a white jacket approached the clerk, who pointed in their direction. As she drew closer, Morgan glanced at her nametag, Dr. Barbara Houghton. “Wyatt Dawson’s family?”

“Yes.” Glen instinctively reached for his wife’s hand.

Morgan held her breath. She could feel Grady, who was standing next to her, tense up. She stared hard at the doctor, searching her face for signs of what was to come. Her expression was stoic, free of emotion.

“Perhaps you should have a seat.”