The next morning, Gunner heard Cheyenne cry through the baby monitor as he fluttered his eyes open before realizing she had gotten quiet not long later.
Gently moving Faith away from his lap, he laid her back down on the couch, making his way towards their daughter’s bedroom to check on her; only to find her unconscious.
“Cheyenne?” he called, shaking her softly, thinking she was being a little prankster, but when she didn’t move, he grew anxious. “Cheyenne!”
Swiftly picking her up from her crib, he ran towards the truck desperately, while shouting at Faith to wake up. She opened her eyes and saw him get out of the house, his back the last thing she saw as he pushed the screen door open.
“What’s wrong, Gunner?” she asked, putting her shoes on as her heart beat erratically, knowing there was something wrong. As soon as she made it into the truck, Gunner handed her their daughter, running around the truck before getting in and driving off.
He wasn’t sure how he was even able to get his keys, being as frantic as he was, but somehow, he managed.
“Wake up, my princess. Please,” Faith whispered in her ear, not knowing what to do. Should she give her mouth to mouth? Should she shake her to wake her up? Should she call 911? Her mind was in a haze, and she suddenly felt lost.
More tears flowed freely down her cheeks as she held her closer to her chest, praying to God they didn’t lose their little angel right then and there.
Shortly after, they arrived at the hospital. Gunner slammed on his breaks; his truck’s tire leaving a line on the pavement. Getting out of the truck, he opened the door for Faith to take Cheyenne in his arms, rushing inside.
“Please, someone help me. My daughter is unresponsive!” he cried as soon as they made it in and the nurses jogged over, taking her and placing her on the hospital bed before wheeling her to a room.
Faith and Gunner ran behind them, not wanting to leave her alone while they worked to bring her back into consciousness. A few doctors hurried in and jumped into action, performing light CPR on her.
“Please, God. Don't take her with you just yet. She's just a baby,” Faith whispered, putting her hands on the silver necklace with a small crucifix she carried on her neck.
After a long five minutes, they were able to bring her back to consciousness as Gunner and Faith sighed in relief while hugging each other in tears.
“She's lucky, Gunner.” The doctor approached them. “But we'll have to monitor her. She was deprived of oxygen for a bit and we have to make sure she didn't have any damage to her brain.” He patted Gunner’s shoulder before he walked out while the nurses worked on getting Cheyenne comfortable.
“She's only two. She shouldn’t have to suffer at such a young age. Why can't she just have a normal life, like other kids?" Faith asked, approaching the bed after the nurses were done while caressing her daughter's soft strands of dark hair.
“Our friends deserve to know. They've been there for us all this time; it's only fair we told them. I can see how much Palmer loves Cheyenne, and it would break her heart if she was left in the dark about it. They're her Godparents after all.”
She hugged herself, deciding whether to tell them or not. With their perfect life, according to her, they didn't need to be sucked into their problems.
“I'll think about it…”
“Faith, we don't have to face this alone. They can be a great moral support.”
“We don't need moral support, Gunner. We need money, which we barely have for our daughter to survive!” She didn't mean to yell when the nurse walked in, telling her to calm down. She sat down on the couch by the corner, her head down as she tried to compose herself.
Seeing Cheyenne in that bed sick had her, suddenly, losing faith in God. So many nights of unanswered prayers made her not believe in miracles anymore.
“Darling, we can't lose hope. Cheyenne is going to get through this. We are going to get through everything together.”
He held her hand, rubbing her knuckles while trying to comfort each other.
“I don't have any hope left. You could have been out in the world, visiting countries and winning medals. Instead, you're stuck in here working in a clinic and not even earning enough. You stopped living your true dreams, and got a career you don't want anymore,” she took a deep breath, her eyes wet from her unshed tears. “And I could have been working for a major fashion designer house.”
“I don't regret anything. If it meant being here with you and our daughter.”
She smiled at him, raising her hand to stroke his cheek before kissing his lips tenderly. She felt like the luckiest woman in the world for having such an amazing man next to her.
"It's still not fair to you."
Faith decided she should stay with Cheyenne while Gunner went home to take care of things; the nurse brought her blankets and pillows to stay the day and night while he picked a few things for her stay in the hospital.
On his way there, he felt an ache in his heart, keeping him from breathing. He pulled over on the side of the road, letting his pain out, sobbing and screaming against the steering wheel until he couldn't anymore.
“Please, God. Help us, I'm begging you,” he whispered, looking up as if he was talking directly to Him. A few minutes after he had finally calmed down, he kept driving to his ranch, only to see a car parked in his driveway and a man walking back to it after leaving a paper taped on the door.
He parked and got out of his truck with a frown on his face. Ignoring the man, he walked towards the door to check what he had left for them.
“What's this?” he asked, turning to face the heavy-set dark-suited man.
“That's your eviction and foreclosure notice. You have one month to vacate the premises, Mr. Travis. Have a good day,” he replied, getting in the car and driving off, leaving Gunner standing on his porch with his heart beating erratically.
He couldn’t believe that on top of it all, that bastard had to come to their home and threaten him with eviction. He had to find another place soon, but for now, all he wanted was to worry about his family.
Gunner stomped into the house, picked up a few clothing and personal items, and made his way back to the truck, tossing the bag on the passenger seat before he got in the driver's seat and left.
He wasn't sure if Faith would be upset at him, but they really needed their friend's help; if only one time.
Picking up his cell phone, he marked the digits and hit send, calling Christopher.
“Hello?” he answered, his voice tired.
“Hey, Chris. Sorry to bother you so early, but can you and Palmer meet me at the town hospital?”
That seemed to catch Christopher's attention as he sat up on his bed to listen to Gunner. Palmer was already out tending the horses and he felt guilty for sleeping in.
“What's wrong?”
“It's Cheyenne. Faith didn't want to tell you guys, but she's sick and we might lose her at any moment,” Gunner replied, his voice breaking at the end. All he needed was his friends, and no matter how stubborn Faith was, he wanted them there for their daughter.
Palmer and Christopher hurried to the hospital, worried about their friends and their daughter. He parked the car in the closest spot available before they both headed inside, asking the receptionist where Cheyenne’s room was. “I’m sorry, but visitors are not allowed at this time, unless they’re family,” she said, giving Palmer an apologetic smile. “It’s okay, she’s my sister,” Faith lied, but right now she wanted her best friend with her. She looked as if she hadn't slept in days, and there were bags under her eyes. She led them both to Cheyenne’s room and Palmer quickly approached the little girl’s bed, caressing her soft hair as she looked at her with a sweet smile on her face. “What can we do to help?” Christopher asked Gunner, who shrugged as both men stood by the end of the bed, looking at his daughter, who was pale and frail. “There’s not much to do unless there’s an organ donor. But it takes a lot of money to put her on the waiting list,” he replied. Palmer looked at hi
The days seemed like years for the couple as they waited for a sign that their daughter would be okay. Faith laid next to Cheyenne, stroking her pale chubby cheeks while feeling exhausted from crying and not sleeping enough. Singing her a lullaby song, she was desperate to see her run around as if nothing had happened. It had been torture, and she was ready to go crazy. She heard Gunner walk in with a tray of food from the cafeteria, setting it down on the table next to the bed before wheeling it towards Faith. “Faith, you need to eat something, darling,” he whispered to get her attention without waking Cheyenne up from her nap. She looked at him with tired eyes and a faint smile as she sat up, seeing the hot pastrami sandwich and a chicken salad. “I’m not hungry, Gunner,” she said, her eyes going back to their daughter. “All I want is for her to get better.” He pulled her up from the bed, enveloped her in his arms, and swayed side to side in an attempt to soothe her. The pain a
“Thank you, doctor. You have no idea how much this means to me,” Faith said, holding his hands and kissing his knuckles in gratitude. “No worries, Miss Hilton. You should thank Grace Fisher for convincing the board to put Cheyenne on the list,” he replied. Faith looked at Connor with a smile on her face and without thinking, she wrapped her arms around his neck, hugging him tightly. “Thank you so much for being here, saving my daughter.” Connor smiled at her as she pulled back while he held her hands, looking straight into her beautiful eyes. He put a strand of hair behind her ear, making her feel slightly uncomfortable, especially since she was with Gunner and another man touching her intimately was not appropriate. As if sensing her tension, he pulled away, apologizing for touching her that way. “How about I invite you for coffee? We can catch up for old times sake,” he offered, and just as she was about to accept the invitation, Gunner walked in with a frown on his face whil
Palmer woke up with the morning sun sneaking through their silky curtains, stretching her limbs as she sighed contentedly. Rubbing her eyes open, she looked to her side, only to find Christopher sitting at the edge of the bed, groaning. “What’s wrong?” she asked, scooting over to him while covering her naked body with the sheets. They had made love all night, but there was something strange about their passionate moment. It was as if Christopher wasn’t there with her. “Nothing, baby. I guess you just exhausted me last night,” he replied, getting up from the bed, holding back a groan of pain on his penis before heading towards the bathroom to take a shower. Determined to find out what had Christopher acting that way, Palmer put on a bathrobe and followed him. As she opened the door, she saw him standing in the shower, his hand against the wall, and his head hung low. She sighed, took her bathrobe off, and joined him, embracing him from behind as she kissed his back, suddenly conce
A few moments later, Gunner came back with the cup of tea. “Here, this should calm you down a bit,” he mentioned. “Thank you,” she replied, taking a sip before facing Faith again, “I don’t want to think he’s having problems in that area. It would devastate him to know he won’t be able to procreate.” “You don’t know if that’s the problem. Wait for him to tell you after he finds out what’s wrong with him,” Faith replied, rubbing her back. Dr. Miles and Connor walked out of the operation room and approached them with big smiles on their faces, shaking Gunner’s hand. “How’s my daughter, doctor?” he asked after he she stood up from the chair and approached them. “The surgery went well. All we need to do is keep her in the recovery room, and then we’ll let you know when you can see her. We’ll keep a close eye on her to make sure she won’t reject the heart given to her,” Dr. Miles said, and that didn’t soothe Faith’s nerves. “What do you mean, make sure she doesn't reject it?” she aske
Weeks have gone by and little Cheyenne was finally ready to be discharged. After a few follow-ups, the doctors have decided to send her home, ordering Faith and Gunner to bring her back every month for a regular check-up. “Thank you so much, doctor. You have no idea how happy it makes me seeing my daughter healthy,” Faith said as she dressed her up, Cheyenne showing her happy smile at her mother while she tugged at her curls. “It was nothing really. You should thank Grace Fisher and her son. They were both able to make a valid point to save this little one's life,” he replied, ruffling Cheyenne's hair, making her squeal and giggle. The nurse walked in with the discharge papers, handing them to Faith as Gunner picked their daughter up in his arms and walked out of the room; towards the exit. The ride back to their home was silent, tense even, as they made their way through the beautiful landscapes Cheyenne loved to see every time they took a trip. “Ma-ma! Cows!” She screamed exc
“So, Palmer. When are you and Christopher going to give me grandkids?” Grace asked again, just like the other day, as they put the food on the dining table. Hearing that request from his mother from the doorway, he couldn’t help but tense while he looked at Thomas, who patted his shoulder in a sympathetic manner. Palmer shrugged her shoulders, but at that moment, she saw their men walk in with the plate of meat. She smiled, striding towards her husband to give him a kiss. “Hello, handsome. Did you have a good time outside?” she asked. He gave her a faint smile, but she had noticed it was not the usual smile he always had. “Are you okay?” “Yeah, I’m okay. Just hungry, so let’s join Mom and Thomas,” he replied, putting his arm on her shoulder before leading her to the dining area to enjoy the dinner. The evening was enjoyable as they chatted and joked about their daily routines, lightening up the tension in Christopher’s body. That was, until Grace asked them again the questi
Faith woke up with the whines of her daughter and the soothing voice of her fiancé singing to her through the monitor. It warmed her heart to see how much her two most important people in her life loved each other. The fear of losing Cheyenne was stressful and it almost put a toll on their relationship, especially knowing Connor was there. But why did she have a feeling it was not over yet? The house phone rang, pulling her out of her thoughts, and when she answered, Cindy spoke excitedly from the other side. “Hi, my dear daughter. I was wondering if you wanted to come for breakfast today,” she mentioned as Faith heard some shuffling around, realizing she must have been cooking up a storm. “Hello, Mom. What are you planning?” she asked, knowing her mother very well. Unless there was something very important that she needed to say, she wouldn’t call this early, or prepare breakfast for anyone unless they would tell them Gunner and her would visit. “Nothing, we just want to cel