Snow Melts in Spring - By Deborah Vogts Page 0,77

out what’s causing your attacks.”

His dad shook his head as another spasm hit. “No,” he said between coughs.

Gil straightened, praying his father would accept his next words. “Listen, I wasn’t home when you were sick before, but I’m here now. I want to be here for you.” Gil thought of his mother. He hadn’t been at her side when she’d passed away, and he’d regretted it ever since. No way was he going to let that happen again.

“Can I ride with him in the ambulance?” Gil turned and asked the physician.

“It’d be better if you drove. That way you’ll have a car.”

Gil combed his fingers through his hair. “Of course, I wasn’t thinking.” In an effort to clear the worry from his mind, he exhaled long and slow. He stepped outside the room to let Mattie know what they’d decided and welcomed her once again into his arms.

“I’m going with Dad to the Heart Hospital for further tests. Will you tell Mildred and Jake the situation?”

“Are you okay to drive?” Mattie surveyed him from head to foot, her concern evident. “At least come to the ranch for a change of clothes. Get a bite to eat before you make the trip.”

Gil shook his head. “He needs to know he can count on me.”

“It’ll be okay, Gil.” She seemed to sense his agitation and pressed her fingers to his lips. “I’ll have Mildred round up some things for you and John, and I’ll meet you there as soon as I’ve checked on the animals in the clinic.”

“You’re tired.” He grasped her wrists, unable to think of anyone’s company he’d welcome more. “I don’t want to worry about you on the highway. My suitcase is still in the truck, so I can clean up at the hospital. You get some rest. I’ll call when I have more news.”

For once, she didn’t argue. “Promise you’ll call?”

He kissed her forehead gently. “I promise.”

MATTIE WAITED FOR GIL’S CALL, TORMENTED BY A RESTLESS SLEEP. The next morning, her cell phone chimed on the nightstand. She fumbled to answer it when she saw that it was Gil.

“Good morning, sunshine.”

Mattie welcomed the warm affection in Gil’s voice, but that didn’t excuse the worry he’d put her through all night. “You didn’t call. How’s your dad?”

“I’m sorry. He underwent tests all night and is wiped out, but the good news is they’ve found little blockage.”

“No surgery, then?”

“Right now, it doesn’t look like it. They want to explore a few more possibilities and are playing with his medicines.”

“How are you holding up?” The beagle that lay on the bed at Mattie’s feet clambered up to lick her face. She hugged him to her chest, and her voice softened. “Did you get any sleep?”

“Barely. I wanted to tell you I’m coming home to pick up a few things. They’re going to let Dad rest this morning and then they’ll start in again this afternoon.”

“Are you sure you want to leave? I can bring whatever you need.”

“You stay and tend to your patients. You’ve been gone enough.”

Mattie closed her eyes and pressed her cheek to the pup in her arms. “Give him my love, then.” Her words cracked as she wished she could tell John herself.

“Don’t worry, he knows.”

Tenderness welled in her heart for Gil. She said good-bye, already reevaluating her day. A short while later, as she poured milk into a bowl of cereal, her cell jingled again. Mattie answered automatically, thinking Gil must have forgotten to tell her something, but a female voice greeted her instead.

“Hey, little sister. What’s up?”

“Jenna?”

“Who else? Gosh, it’s good to hear your voice. Guess what? I’m here. I took some extra days off work and flew in early. Mom told me about the clinic fire — that you’ve been staying at the McCray ranch. Do you have any appointments this morning?”

Mattie swallowed. So much for catching up at the clinic. “What do you have in mind?”

Jenna laughed into the earpiece. “I should be there in about half an hour.”

“Then I’ll see you soon,” Mattie said, but her sister had already hung up.

Her cereal now mush, Mattie grabbed her coffee and strode to the clinic to check on her patients. Cup in hand, she went to Dusty’s pen and examined his wounds. After fourteen weeks of therapy, the gelding finally seemed to be on the mend, eating better and putting weight back on. He snorted and pitched his head in the air.

Mattie stroked his shoulder. “Hey, boy. Did you miss me?”

Jake stepped up to the stall

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