The Mechanics of Mistletoe - Liz Isaacson Page 0,70

just putting all the weeds in the bin.”

“It’s fine, Mom,” Sammy said. Now wasn’t the time to tell her she didn’t need to be weeding at all. Sammy wouldn’t want someone telling her she couldn’t do the things she loved, and her mother loved gardening. “It’s not your fault. Stay with him, okay? I’ll be at the hospital when you get there.”

“Love you, Sammy.”

Her emotions flew out of control, and tears filled her eyes in less time than it took to inhale. “Love you too, Mom.”

She hung up and wiped her eyes, catching Bishop as he said, “Yes, it’s at Vaughan Benton’s house. I’m not sure what happened.”

Sammy gestured for him to hand her the phone, which he did. She needed to call Gary too, and her mind whispered that Bear was in town this morning as well. She quickly explained the situation as she knew it to the operator and handed Bishop his phone.

“I have to call my neighbor.”

“I’ve called Bear,” Ranger said. “He’s leaving the meeting right now.”

“Thank you,” Sammy said, another surge of tears arriving. She sniffled as she tried to find Gary’s number, her fingers trembling. “My dad had hip replacement surgery a few months back, and he’s just unstable on his feet.”

A sob threatened to come out of her throat, and her fingers felt fat and clumsy. It landed on the screen, and the letters jumped from the Fs to the Ms. Her vision blurred as more tears filled her eyes.

“Hey,” Ranger said, and the next thing she knew, he’d taken her phone from her hand. “Hey, slow down, Sammy.”

She looked up at him, the storm inside her about to break. Her tears spilled over and ran down her face. “I’m fine,” she said, but her voice was at least an octave too high, and she was definitely not fine.

Bishop and Ranger enveloped her in a hug only a moment before she broke, and she sobbed for a good few seconds, everything so hot and so horrible.

She took a breath, and then another, working back to her center. On the third breath, she straightened her shoulders, and they released her simultaneously. “Okay,” she said. “I really am okay. I need to call Gary, and I need to get to the hospital.”

“I’ll drive you,” Bishop said, already striding into the kitchen to get his keys.

“No,” she said. “Then I’ll just have to come get my truck later.”

“I’ll bring it right now behind you,” Ranger said, holding out his hand. “Give me the keys.” Bishop returned to his side, his eyes wide and eager.

Sammy paused, slowing down for a moment the way Ranger had suggested. She had two good, kind, faithful men standing in front of her, wanting to help her. “Thank you,” she said, her emotions already starting to well up again. She dug in her pocket for her car keys and handed them to Ranger. “Let’s go. I can call Gary in the car.”

Chapter Twenty-Two

Bear heard the sirens behind him as he turned onto the last road that would get him to Monkeytown, where Sammy and her parents lived. He pulled over and let the ambulance go by, then he eased right back onto the road and followed it.

It had to be going to Vaughan’s house, because Three Rivers didn’t have a lot of other reasons for an ambulance to be out, lights flashing and siren wailing.

He pulled onto the block as two men entered the house, and he continued until he could park out of the way and still be close to the house. He jumped from the truck, noting how different the neighborhood seemed now that life had been cleaned up from the tornadoes.

There was no one in the front living room, and Bear called, “Rachel? It’s Bear Glover. Sammy called me.” Not entirely true, but semantics right now weren’t important. Ranger had called, not Sammy, but the result was the same.

Bear was here.

Sammy’s mother came out of the kitchen, her tear-streaked face filled with grief.

“Hey,” Bear said. “Sammy called and said Vaughan fell. I was in town, and I came to help.”

Rachel rushed toward him, and he barely had time to open his arms before she stepped into them. She sobbed against his chest, and Bear didn’t know what to say or do. After several seconds, he dared to ask, “Is he…okay, Rachel?”

She stepped back and wiped her face with the kitchen towel in her hand. “He’s unconscious. They’re trying to wake him up, and they can’t.” She shook her head. “I