“I’m just glad you’re still here,” Kira said. “You gave us all quite a scare.”
“The ranch—the kids—” He was straining to sit up. Kira laid a hand on his shoulder, holding him back.
“Don’t worry, everything’s fine. Jake’s there to help. We can muddle along fine until you’re completely well. Right now what we all need most is for you to rest.”
The nurse had come into the room; her look sent a clear message that it was time for Kira to leave.
“I’ve got to go now.” She brushed a kiss on his forehead. “I’ll be back tomorrow. Rest and do as you’re told, all right?”
“You know me better than that, girl,” he joked feebly as Kira exited the room. The tears she’d been fighting spilled over as she found her way to the main entrance and hurried outside to her car. Dusty was the linchpin that anchored her world. How could she have survived if she’d lost him?
She was climbing into her Subaru when she remembered the call she’d promised to make. People at the ranch would be worried about Dusty, too. She found her phone in her purse and scrolled down to the number of the landline phone.
Consuelo answered the call. “How is he?” she asked. “Ay diós, we’ve been worried sick.”
Kira passed on the good news. Consuelo put the phone aside to tell Paige and perhaps Jake, if he was close by.
“Is everything all right there?” she asked when Consuelo was back on the line. “How are my students?”
“Fine. They’re still eating dinner. Will you be back tonight?”
“Yes. There’s not much I can do here. Dusty just needs to rest.”
“Bueno. I’ll tell Jake to expect you.”
“What about the horses? Is somebody taking care of them?”
Consuelo chuckled. “The horses are in the paddock. Paige showed Jake how to feed them.”
Kira had to smile. “I knew I could count on her, and on you. Do you need anything from town while I’m here?”
“Eggs. Juice. Maybe some chocolate milk and donuts for snacks tomorrow. All right?”
“Sure. I’ll pick some up. See you in an hour or so.”
Kira ended the call and slipped her phone back in her purse. She sank back into the seat to collect her thoughts before starting home.
At least, tonight, there was hope that her grandfather would recover. Meanwhile, she mustn’t allow herself to be crushed by the load of extra duties—the students, the care of the horses, the lectures she’d usually left to Dusty, to say nothing of the counseling sessions she handled herself. As always, she would have to be there for Paige, who would be worried and would miss her beloved great-grandfather. And she’d also need to check on Dusty at the hospital. Right now, it all seemed overwhelming.
“Jake’s there to help.” Those words—her own—had been part of her reassurances to Dusty. But could she really count on Jake—a footloose man with a wounded soul, a man who avoided kids and disliked horses, a man who suffered from unpredictable spells of PTSD?
For all she knew, Jake could turn out to be more of a burden than a help. And with Dusty gone, he could easily take it into his head to disappear.
She’d be a fool to count on Jake, Kira concluded. Until Dusty was well again, the whole burden of the ranch and the program would be on her shoulders. She was on her own.
* * *
The teenagers had acted like tired, cranky three-year-olds at dinner. The quiet ones had withdrawn into sullen silence. The others had bitched and complained through the whole meal.
Jake had joined them for the first time. For most of the meal, he’d managed to ignore them. But when four of them had walked away from the table without bussing their dishes, leaving Consuelo to clean up, he’d had enough. The army would never have put up with such slipshod behavior, and neither would he.
“You—all of you—stop right there!” he’d barked in his sharpest command voice. The students turned in the doorway to stare at him. “You four.” He pointed out Heather, Mack, Brandon and Patrick. “You know the rules. Get back here and bus your dishes. And while you’re at it, each of you apologize to Consuelo. She’s not your personal maid.”
Consuelo had come to the kitchen doorway. Jake saw her smile as the offenders trooped forward with their dishes and a muttered apology.
“The rest of you, watch and learn,” Jake snapped. “You do your share around here, or you don’t eat. And you don’t leave until you’re excused. Do you copy?”
“Y-yes, sir.” The shaky voice was Calvin’s.