“Is everything all right?” he asked.
“I don’t know.” Kira opened the door and sprang to the ground. As Jake pulled away, Consuelo hurried down the porch steps. She clasped Kira’s hands, her face ghostly pale in the porch light.
“It’s your grandfather, querida,” she said. “He had a heart attack this afternoon. They Life-Flighted him to that heart care center on St. Mary’s Road.”
For the first instant, Kira went numb. No, she hadn’t heard right. There had to be some mistake. Her grandfather was strong. She’d never even known him to be sick. How could this have happened?
Then, as reality sank in, she realized she had to be the one in charge. There was no one else.
Questions—what to ask first? Kira struggled to stay composed. “How is he? Will he be all right?”
“I don’t know. Paige heard the dog barking and found Dusty lying in the barn. I called nine-one-one and tried to do CPR, but I only knew what I’d seen on TV. Then the helicopter came and took him.”
“Oh, Paige!” Turning, Kira gathered the little girl into her arms. The small body shook with sobs. “What a brave girl you are,” she murmured. “Can you be brave a little longer?”
Paige gave her a tearful nod.
“Why didn’t you call me, Consuelo?” Kira asked, looking up at the distraught woman.
“I wanted to. But didn’t have your number. I knew it was on Dusty’s phone, but I couldn’t find that phone anywhere. He must’ve had it on him when they took him away.”
Jake came around the side of the house. “What is it?” he asked.
Kira told him. “I’ve got to go to the hospital,” she said. “Consuelo, can you stay here tonight?”
“Of course. I was already planning to be here.”
“I can drive you, Kira,” Jake said.
“No,” she told him. “I need somebody to be in charge of the students and the horses. That’ll have to be you.”
Jake’s expression said, I didn’t sign on for this. But he didn’t argue.
“If I’m not back in the morning, get the students to help with the horses,” Kira said. “Paige can tell you a lot—she’s been watching the rest of us for years. Consuelo, the kids will be hungry. They’ll need their supper. After that, you can put in a movie for them to watch.”
“Don’t worry, there’s lasagna in the oven. I’ll take care of them,” Consuelo said. “You need to go.”
“Yes. I’ll call you as soon as I know something.” Kira found her keys and raced for her own eight-year-old Subaru Outback, which she’d bought used and kept in the vehicle shed. Minutes later, as the sun sank over the distant hills, she was speeding down the road toward the highway and Tucson.
Dread was a cold weight in her chest. For the past ten years, since her parents’ deaths, her beloved grandfather had been the one constant in her life. Strong and wise, he had always been there to support her. His willingness to be her partner in the horse therapy program was what made it work, for her and for the troubled young people they helped.
He had to be all right. He just had to be.
* * *
Jake stood at the foot of the steps, watching Kira’s taillights vanish around the first bend in the road. He forced himself to take deep breaths as reality sank in. Dusty was in the hospital fighting for his life—a battle he might have already lost. And Kira had rushed off to be with her grandfather, leaving him in charge of the ranch—a place where he’d never wanted to be in the first place.
Consuelo touched his shoulder. “You must be hungry. Dinner will be ready soon.”
“Thanks. Don’t wait for me.” He gave her time to go inside before he mouthed a few choice curses. Kids? Lord, he’d never been a fan of teenagers, and the time he’d spent with this bunch hadn’t changed his mind. Horses? They were nothing but big, spooky brutes that would just as soon kick you as look at you. And now he was supposed to deal with them. Just for good measure, he uttered more curses he’d picked up in the military, where profanity was natural speech.
Something soft brushed his hand. “Mister Jake, my grandpa says you’re not supposed to use those words.”
Paige stood looking up at him. Dusty would be her great-grandfather, but since she’d never known her grandparents, the technicality wasn’t worth explaining.
“Sorry,” he said. “I’ll have to watch my mouth around here, won’t I?” He waited for her to go inside. When she didn’t budge, he said, “Shouldn’t you go in and get ready for dinner?”
She took his hand, pulling him toward the barn. “Grandpa always says you mustn’t fill your own belly while you’ve got hungry horses. We’ve got to feed them before we eat.”