Heart of Clay Page 39

  Callan ran across the parking lot, barely slowing down as she went through the hospital’s sliding doors, up the elevator, and down the hall to Clay’s room.

  Bobbi was there, crying a stream of tears and smiling. Callan gave her a hug before going to stand by Clay’s head. Leaning over him, she softly brushed at the short curls near his temple, trying not to notice where his head had been shaved on the other side and stitches glared against the pale skin. She bent close to his ear and whispered, “I love you, Clay. I’m waiting for you. Come back to me.” She softly kissed his lips before standing back up.

  Clay dreamed of a feathery-soft touch brushing at his temple. He thought he could smell something familiar, light and flowery. Then he heard Callan’s voice in his ear.

  Come back to me.

  There it was again. He had no idea where he was and why she kept asking him to come back. He struggled to fight his way to consciousness, to say her name again, but couldn’t quite force himself to do it.

  When she picked up his hand and began to rub it with her soft, smooth fingers, he squeezed her hand. He hoped she would know he tried to get back to her from the place that was so foreign to him.

  Callan gasped when he squeezed her hand. She motioned to Dr. Fisher to watch her hand in Clay’s, and leaned close to his ear. “I miss you, Brick. Squeeze my hand again if you can hear me.”

  The room was perfectly silent as they waited.

  Clay squeezed her hand again.

  Callan beamed, shooting David a look of hope and joy.

  He felt like cheering and grinned broadly. “Excellent,” he said. “That is excellent.”