76 "stabbing feeling"

I only brought Patsy in to say goodnight.

That was it. Five minutes. A hug. A kiss. Something normal. A routine she started. The bunkhouse was loud—music low but constant, boots on wood, laughter bouncing off the walls. Patsy's hand was tight in mine, her eyes already heavy, curls stuck to her cheeks from sleep."There's Daddy," she whispered, spotting Walker instantly. Her grip slipped free before I could answer. She ran straight for him."Hey—hey—" Walker laughed, already reaching for her as she climbed him like she'd done it a hundred times before. She scrambled right into his lap, arms wrapping around his neck."I gotta hug you real big," she announced seriously.Walker smiled in that soft, stunned way he still got around her. "I noticed," he said, holding her tight. "You tryin' to squeeze the air outta me, kid?"She giggled and pressed her face into his shoulder.I stood there watching them, my chest doing that painful, full thing it did every time I saw him with her. The way he held her like she was made of gold. The way his whole body changed around her. The way he smiled sweeter than I've ever seen. Then my eyes drifted.And my stomach dropped.Laramie was in the corner—half sprawled across Lloyd's lap like she owned him, legs bare, laughing too loud. One hand was on his chest. The other lifted when she saw Patsy."Well look at that," she said, voice sugary and sharp all at once. "Ain't you just the prettiest little thing."I felt it instantly. That cold snap behind my ribs. I felt like a mother bear wanting to tear apart anything that went near her cub. Patsy turned her head, confused. "Hi—""No," I said, sharp enough to cut the air.Every head turned.I stepped forward, my hand already reaching for Patsy. "You don't talk to her. Ever."Laramie scoffed, straightening a little. "Excuse me?""You heard me," I said, pulling Patsy back against my side. "You don't speak to my child."Laramie's smile turned mean. "God, Willie, you're dramatic. She's just a kid."Walker shifted under Patsy, jaw tightening. "Laramie. Enough."She rolled her eyes. "Oh please. You gonna tell me I can't say hi now?"

"Yes," I said. "That's exactly what I'm saying."She stood up then, slow and deliberate, like she wanted the attention. "You always been this stuck-up? Or did motherhood just finish the job?"Walker stood too—Patsy still in his arms. "Sit down," he warned.Laramie laughed. "Or what?"He lowered Patsy gently to the floor, his hands careful even as his face hardened. "Go sit. Down."She took a step closer instead. "You don't talk to me like that."Walker grabbed her arm and shoved her back onto the bunk hard enough it rattled. "I just did."The room went dead quiet.Lloyd shot up like a fuse had been lit. "What the hell is wrong with you?" he shouted, stepping toward Walker. "You don't touch her like that."Walker turned slowly, squaring up. "Sit down, Lloyd. This ain't your fight."

"The hell it isn't."

Walker lifted his hands, open-palmed, stance loose but ready. "You wanna dance, old man?"

Lloyd swung first.

Fists flew—fast and ugly. Walker took two punches, gave three back. Someone shouted. A chair went over. I pulled Patsy against me, her face buried in my shirt."Momma?" she whimpered."I got you," I whispered, heart pounding. "Don't look."Then everything went wrong.I saw the knife flash before my brain caught up."Walker—!" I screamed. Lloyd drove it in.Straight into Walker's shoulder. All the way.Walker grunted—deep and shocked—and staggered back, blood already spreading dark through his shirt."No—no no no—" My legs moved before I knew I was running. Patsy screamed."Daddy!" That sound—God, that sound—split something open in me.Rip burst through the door like a storm, rage written all over his face. "What the hell is going on—"

"Rip, shut up!" I yelled, dropping to my knees beside Walker. "Ryan—get my bag. Now. And the X-ray."Rip froze, stunned by my voice more than the scene. Ryan didn't hesitate. "On it."Walker was breathing hard, teeth clenched. "It's fine," he muttered. "Just a shoulder."

"Don't you dare start that," I snapped,ripping open his shirt, pressing my hands around the wound, blood slick and hot under my fingers. "You don't get to downplay this."He looked at me then—really looked—and something softened despite the pain. "You're shakin'."

"Because you're bleeding out on a damn bunkhouse floor," I shot back.Patsy was crying now, full-body sobs. "Momma, Daddy's hurt—"I turned, voice breaking. "It's okay baby! Mamas got him. He'll be okay!" I cheered as happy as I could make it sound.

"Hey. Hey. Come here, baby."Rip scooped her up before she could get closer, holding her awkwardly but firm. "I got her," he said, quieter now. "She's okay."Walker's eyes followed Patsy like he couldn't see anything else."Tell me if you start feelin dizzy okay?," I told him, my forehead pressing to his. "Don't you go anywhere. You hear me?"He nodded once. "Not goin' anywhere."Ryan skidded back in, medical bag thumping to the floor. "X-ray's ready."I took a breath, wiped my hands on my jeans as I prepared my surroundings. I had Walker sitting half-slumped on a wooden dinning chair, my knees pressed into the floor between his boots. Blood soaked through my hands no matter how hard I pressed.He let out a sharp breath through his teeth. "You got... anything?" he rasped. "Painkillers. Whiskey. Hell—I'll take cough syrup."I shot him a look. "You are not drinking this away but you can try."He huffed a weak laugh. "Figured I'd try."Colby was quick to pass over the liquors. Not just the liquors but a teeny bottle of local. Walker drank the gross substance fast.

Ryan slid the X-ray plate into place, hands eager just a little. I leaned over it, my heart pounding so loud I could barely hear the music still thumping somewhere outside.And then I saw it.I sucked in a breath so hard it hurt."Willie?" Walker asked, eyes locked on my face. "Talk to me."I swallowed. Hard. "He just missed your artery," I said quietly.His brow furrowed. "Missed?""By maybe an inch," I whispered. I looked back at the image, just to make sure I wasn't imagining it. I wasn't. "If that blade had gone any deeper, or just a little left—"He exhaled slowly. "Guess I still got some luck left."My hands were shaking now. I pressed my palm flat against his chest like it would ground me. "Don't joke.""Just tryin' to keep you from cryin'," he murmured with a grin. I ignored that. I grabbed gloves, gauze, clamps—muscle memory taking over. Years of patching up animals, men, anything bleeding out in front of me."Okay," I said, forcing my voice steady. "I need you to take a deep breath"He nodded once, jaw tight. "Just—just tell me when you're gonna pull it."I leaned closer, my forehead almost touching his. "Walker—"

"I mean it," he said, breathing fast now. "Just say when so I can brace—"

I didn't wait. I grabbed the handle and yanked.Walker shouted—raw and loud—and his whole body jerked forward. Blood surged instantly."I'm sorry—I'm sorry—I'm sorry," I babbled, already pressing gauze hard into the wound, my hands slick and red. "I know, I know, I'm sorry—breathe, breathe—"He groaned, head falling forward until his forehead hit my shoulder. His hands clenched into my shirt like he needed something solid to hold onto."Jesus Christ," he muttered hoarsely. "You don't waste time.""You told me to pull it," I shot back, though my voice cracked. "You just didn't finish your sentence."I packed the wound fast, firm, methodical. Pressure. Clamp. More gauze."Bleeding's slowing," Ryan said, relief flooding his voice.I nodded, not looking away. "Good. Keep pressure here."Walker lifted his head just enough to look at me, sweat beading on his brow. "Good god you're hot"I laughed once—sharp and broken. "You almost bled out and you're focused on me?"He reached up, fingers brushing my cheek, smearing blood I hadn't even realized was there. "Yeah," he said softly. "Because you look like you're the sexiest nurse at the hospital."

"Them meds kickin in?," I snickered. He grinned "they are now mama."Behind us, Patsy sniffled softly from where Rip held her. "Daddy?"Walker turned his head, eyes softening instantly. "Hey, little dove. I'm okay."She didn't look convinced.I wiped my hands quickly and reached for her. "Come here, sweetheart."She climbed into my arms, shaking. I held her tight, rocking her as Walker watched us both like we were oxygen."I'm sorry you saw that," I whispered into her hair.  She peeked over my shoulder at him. "You bleeding a lot.""Not as much as it looks," Walker said gently. "Mamas got me."

I met his eyes over her curls."I do," I said quietly.

The meds hit him faster than I expected.

I saw it in his eyes first—the sharp edge softening, his shoulders finally loosening like his body realized it didn't have to fight anymore. His words started to drag just a touch, that lazy drawl slipping in."Ohhh," he murmured, blinking slowly. "Yeah. That's... that's nice."I snorted despite myself. "Don't get used to it."He smiled at me—slow, crooked, dangerous. "You look like an angel."Patsy, who had stopped shaking and was now watching everything like a tiny supervisor, tilted her head. "Daddy's sleepy."Walker hummed in agreement. "Think I am, little dove."She nodded decisively. "You should come sleep in our trailer."My head snapped up. "Patsy."She shrugged. "He's hurt."Walker laughed quietly. "See? Doctor says I need bed rest."I shot him a warning look. "You are not helping."

"I'm just sayin'," he drawled, eyes half-lidded. "Your kid's got good instincts."I ignored both of them and focused on my work.The wound was clean now, bleeding fully under control. I threaded the needle with steady hands, even though my pulse still hadn't slowed. Stitch by stitch, I closed him up—close enough that I could feel the heat of his skin, smell the mix of antiseptic and him.He watched me the whole time.Not staring at the wound.At me. "You always bite your lip when you're concentratin'," he said softly.I didn't look up. "Hold still."

"I am still," he replied. "Emotionally, I mean."I shook my head. "You're high."

"Little," he admitted. "But I mean it. You got that line right there." He nodded toward my mouth. "Same as before."My hands faltered for half a second."Walker," I warned.He smiled again—gentler this time. "I missed that face."I finished the last stitch and cut the thread. "You're done."

"Does that mean I get discharged?" he asked. "Because I really don't wanna sleep ten feet from Lloyd tonight."That... gave me pause.I glanced toward the bunks—toward the tension still hanging in the air, the way Lloyd had been pacing like a caged animal earlier. Then I looked back at Walker: stitched, medicated, exhausted, and very much not in a state to deal with that.

Patsy perked up. "So he is coming?"I sighed, rubbing my forehead. "You planned this."She smiled sweetly. "No I didn't."Walker lifted his hands weakly. "I can sleep on the floor. Couch. Truck. Porch. Wherever you say."I met his eyes.And against my better judgment... I nodded."Fine," I said quietly. "You can stay in the trailer. Just tonight."His smile was instant—warm, grateful, a little stunned. "Yeah?""Yes," I repeated. "And you are not doing anything stupid."He leaned back, closing his eyes. "Darlin', I just got stabbed. I'm fresh outta stupid for the night."Patsy clapped once, proud. "Good."I shook my head, already gathering my supplies.As I helped him to his feet, he leaned close and murmured, just for me, "You takin' care of me like this... feels good mama."I swallowed. "You wanna sleep in the grass tonight?," I askedHe chuckled low. "Okay darlin. I understand..".....