She snagged the plastic bag, delectable scents of sizzling meat and fried potatoes floating up to her nose. “Call the ranch. Just tell them you have a three-lesson package and request me. I’ll make sure it’s honored.” She waved as she strolled out of the bar. She doubted he’d call, much less ask for her to be his instructor. But on the off chance he did, she’d make sure to take good care of him.
Now to go have a nice meal with her father.
She tossed the bag in the passenger seat and slid behind the steering wheel of her Jeep, firing up the engine. She pulled out onto the main drag and took the first right-hand turn. Going through two stop signs, she made a left and then a quick right and pulled into her childhood home. She frowned. Her father would normally be sitting on the front porch waiting for her with his once-a-week treat. He lived for Friday burgers. Normally, people did a fish fry, but not her dad, and that was just fine with her since she didn’t really like fish anyway.
Making her way toward the front door, she glanced around the yard. Boone had done a nice job mowing the lawn. He’d also done the weeding and some trimming of the bushes. Well, he was her father’s next-door neighbor, so he was just being neighborly.
Or maybe he was tired of the eyesore that was becoming her dad’s home. She cringed as she pulled open the screen door as it squeaked. The outside of the house needed a good painting along with a new roof. All these things she’d planned on doing, only she had no idea her parents were broke, and she was slowly heading in the same direction paying for two homes, along with her father’s medical bills.
“Dad?” She stepped into the living room where he would often be found reading a book in his rocking chair, but not tonight. Perhaps he was in the kitchen pouring a couple of glasses of red wine. He liked to have his one glass every night, though it was a little early for him. “Dad,” she called again.
No response.
She set the food on the kitchen counter and made her way through the family room. Standing in front of the sliding glass doors, she stared out into the backyard, and he was still nowhere to be found. Her pulse kicked up a notch as she raced up the stairs. “Dad!” She found him sprawled out on the floor in front of the bathroom, unconscious. Dropping to her knees, she took his wrist and checked his pulse while she turned her head and lowered herself, checking for breath.
His heart was still beating, though weak, and his breath was shallow. “Dad,” she said as she tapped his pale cheek.
Nothing.
She pulled out her cell and called 9-1-1.
“Come on, Dad, wake up.” She put the phone on speaker and set it on the floor. “Dad,” she said more sternly, flicking her finger against his cheek. “Can you hear me?” She held his cold and clammy hand.
This couldn’t be happening.
She couldn’t lose her father. Not now.
She wasn’t ready.
He wasn’t ready.
Boone raced through the automatic doors of the emergency room and skidded to a stop at the desk. He smiled at the nurse sitting behind the reception desk.
He didn’t smile back. “Can I help you?”
“Yes. I’m looking for Henry Sour. He was brought in about five or six hours ago.” Boone kept his tone even, though he was totally out of breath. He blinked a few times, doing his best to keep from snapping. His frustration wasn’t at the gentleman tapping his fingers on a keyboard.
No. It was directed at Paget for not calling him when she found her father unconscious. Boone had to find out by overhearing two patrons talk about it at the bar.
She should have called him. He would have been there for her in a heartbeat.
“He’s been admitted,” the man said, offering no other information.
Boone waited a good minute. “For what?”
“He had a stroke,” the man said. “A mild one, but it’s still pretty serious.”
“Can you tell me where he is? I’d like to see him.”
“Visiting hours are over.”
“I’m well aware,” Boone said with a long breath. “But his daughter is with him, and I’m a close friend. I’m concerned about her as well.”
“I doubt they let her stay with him very long. You should check for her at home,” he said with a fair amount of sarcasm.
“I did. She’s not there. Please. Just tell me where he is and where she might be curled up waiting for morning so she can be the first one in his room. Knowing her, she could be camped out in a bathroom if they won’t let her stay with him.”
“Yeah. Seemed like the kind of daughter that would be like that,” the nurse said. “Not many young adults would go to such lengths for their parents like that one.”
“So, please, will you tell me where I can find them?”
The nurse nodded. “Fifth floor. Room five-twenty-four. There is a visitor waiting room just outside the entrance to the patient rooms. Depending on who’s on and how full the unit is, the nurses might have made up the sofa for her.”
“Thanks. I appreciate it.”
“No problem,” the man said. “And here. Take this.” The man handed him a visitor pass. “Otherwise, you’ll get kicked out on your ass.”
Boone nodded, then made a beeline for the nearest elevator. He pushed the button five times before the doors finally slid open.
It had to be the longest elevator ride he’d ever experienced.
He pulled out his cell and texted Ariana.
Boone: Did you contact the hospital and the doctor?
Ariana: Done and done.
Boone: Was it administered?
Ariana: The doctor had already been using it on previous patients, so yes. Now it’s late and I want to sleep. So does my husband. Goodnight, Boone.
Boone stuffed his phone in his pocket and raked a hand through his unruly hair.
A fucking goddamned stroke. That was going to piss Henry right off. He hated that he couldn’t do things for himself anymore and resented that his daughter had to help take care of him half the time. He did his best to put on a smile and pretend, for Paget’s sake, but it ate at his pride.
Paget knew and it was obvious to Boone she did her best to not insult her father, but it wasn’t easy.
Boone had tried to help out as often as he could, without stepping on anyone’s toes. He worried Henry would fall and break a hip, but a stroke? That hadn’t even crossed his mind.
He stepped from the elevator and the signs toward the wing that matched the room number. Just outside the nurses’ station he saw a small dark room with a flashing light from a television. He peeked inside the glass window.
Paget sat on the sofa with her knees pulled to her chest while she twirled her long, light-brown, almost blond hair. A white blanket lay over her body and pillows were propped up behind her back. Flashes of lights illuminated her beautiful face. She had soft features, but she carried the weight of the world in her light-blue eyes that reminded him of the color of the Caribbean Sea on a clear, calm day with the sun’s rays stretching through the water right to the sandy bottom.
He could stare at her all day and never get bored. It’s why, in part, he reserved the stool at the end of the bar each day around dinnertime just for her. One of his waiters harassed him, once, but no one dared do it again. And no one would ever speak of it out loud. He made sure of it by telling himself he was just doing a neighbor a solid and everyone in town loved old man Henry.