* * *
Johnnie watched from his place in the farthest corner of the sterile room. He found himself rubbing his right thumb and forefinger together, over and over, as if that could erase the memory of recoil that shot up his arm when he'd fired the fatal shot. It was surreal. He'd just killed a man. And he'd do it again. Anything to keep Jessica safe. But he still had to live with it. So be it.
Johnnie shoved his hand in his pocket and watched Doc leave to tend to other patients. The man must've been satisfied Clint was stable. Jessica rubbed her temples with trembling fingertips, staring intently into Clint's face. She grasped his left hand in both of hers, and held it tightly against her chest. Every few minutes she brought his hand up to her lips to kiss his rugged knuckles and mutter another prayer.
Johnnie tried to inhale a steadying breath, but his throat cinched closed on him. He wanted to blame it on claustrophobia from the tiny room, or the acrid bite of rubbing alcohol in the air. But he knew better. The air was thick with grief, desire, regret, and love—such love—all blazing out of Jessica like an aura he had to shield his eyes from. And with each passing minute, his future here grew dimmer.
He'd wait at the ranch for the outcome of Clint's health, and find out for sure where he stood with Jess. But ultimately he knew deep down that he'd be heading back to San Francisco to bury himself in work. His boss had been begging him to return to head up investigations into the latest round of jewel heists going on in the city by the bay. He needed to go. It was time.
Johnnie crossed the room. He leaned down to an oblivious Jessica and kissed her on top of her head. She didn't notice. Or if she had, she didn't respond. He glanced at Clint's pale face, back to Jessica's worried one, then slipped out the door.
* * *
Jessica now remembered praying for Clint the last time he lay unresponsive. She had begged God to keep him from death. And God had healed him. So that he could come to know Jesus, she figured. But, would He heal him this time?
Her emotions were raw in a way they'd never been before. God might decide to take Clint home and she had to be okay with that—to trust God fully and let Him decide such things. To let God be God.