Sunrise Canyon

by Janet Dailey

  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.”

  “How the h—” Jake swallowed the forbidden word. “How do we do that? I’ve never fed a horse in my life!”

  “That’s okay. I can show you what to do.” She tugged him across the yard, the dog tagging along behind them. It was getting darker, and Jake didn’t have a flashlight. But his daughter seemed to know where she was going.

  The horses were still loose in the paddock. “How do we get them in the barn?” he asked.

  “Sometimes we leave them outside. They’ll be okay tonight,” Paige said. “But they need to eat. Wild horses eat all day. These horses aren’t wild, but their digestion works the same. They mustn’t go too long without food, and there’s not enough grass for them in the paddock.”

  “Digestion?” “You know some pretty fancy words for a little girl,” Jake said. “And you seem to know a lot about horses, too.”

  “I just listen to my grandpa,” Paige said. “You can learn a lot if you listen.” She was still for a moment as if fighting tears. Jake could imagine what a shock it must have been, finding Dusty unconscious in the barn and having to run for help. His daughter was one brave little girl.

  “Grandpa would want us to take care of his horses,” she said.

  As Jake gazed at the light and dark shapes moving in the paddock, something tightened in his gut. He still had occasional nightmares about the bronco that had turned his father into a broken, alcoholic ruin. “Do I have to go in there with them?” he asked.

  “No. See those bins by the fence? Those are the feeders. You fill them up with hay. It’s easy. You just throw it over the fence. There’s a wheelbarrow and a pitchfork in the hay shed. Come on.”

  The rising moon lent enough light to see the way. Jake followed the small, darting figure through the shadows. The hay shed, open in front, was behind the stable. An empty wheelbarrow, with a pitchfork leaning against it, stood next to what was left of a large, cylindrical hay bale.

  “So I just fork the hay into the wheelbarrow and take it out. Is that the idea?” he asked.

  “Uh-huh. Once we found a rattlesnake in the hay.” She paused. “But don’t worry. It was dead.”

  “Thanks.” Jake shuddered as he plunged the pitchfork into the hay bale. He hated snakes.

  It took him a couple tries to get it right, but he soon had the wheelbarrow heaped with fragrant hay. With Paige giving directions, he wheeled it to the paddock and refilled the feeders. One horse wandered over and began to munch, followed by another, then more, chomping the hay with their big, flat teeth. Jake could smell their earthy scent. He could hear them breathing, nickering and passing gas. Why did some folks make such a fuss over horses? They were dangerous, messy, expensive and a hell of a lot of work.

  “Now they need water.” Paige handed Jake the hose and pointed to the trough. “You can fill it through the fence. I’ll turn on the tap. Tell me when it’s full.”

  They finished the task and walked back to the house together, the dog trailing behind. After sending Paige inside to get ready for dinner, Jake sank onto the top step. The dog settled beside him. He scratched the shaggy ears. It was too soon for any word from Kira. All he could do was hope her grandfather would pull through. Dusty was a good man. He’d gone to a lot of trouble and expense to get a burned-out human wreck out of jail and bring him here. Jake still didn’t understand why he’d done it. If the worst had happened and Dusty didn’t make it, maybe he never would.

  * * *

  As she swung into the hospital parking lot, Kira reminded herself that the Carondelet Heart and Vascular Institute had a reputation for excellent care and the latest technology. But none of that would matter if Dusty had arrived too late to be saved.

  Sick with worry, she screeched into the
first parking place she found, bolted out of the car and rushed to the hospital entrance. By the time she reached the front desk, she was out of breath.

  “Mr. Wingate?” The receptionist checked her computer screen. “Yes. He’s stabilized and in the ICU. They can tell you more at the nurses’ station. I’ll give you directions.”

  Stabilized! The word sang in Kira’s head as she raced down the hall to the elevator. Her grandfather was alive. She even dared hope that he might recover and be all right.

  “He’s resting,” the ICU nurse told her. “The doctors did an angioplasty and put a stent in the blocked artery that caused the heart attack. He’s not out of the woods yet, but if everything looks good, he should be able to go home in a few days. After that, he’ll need to take it easy for about three weeks while the stent heals.”

  “Can I see him?”

  “For a few minutes. But don’t expect much. He’s an old man and he’s been through a lot. The best thing for him right now is rest.”

  “I won’t be long.” Kira hurried down the hall and tiptoed into her grandfather’s room. He lay with his eyes closed, his spare old body hooked up to a maze of tubes and gauges. The monitor above the bed beeped softly, tracking his pulse, blood pressure and oxygen level—all stable, thank heaven.

  Dusty had always been a tower of strength. Now the sight of him almost broke her heart. He looked so small and fragile in that bed, his face pale, his cheekbones jutting like ledges above the oxygen tube that was clipped to his nose.

  Leaning over the bed, Kira slipped her hand into his and gave it a gentle squeeze. Her heart skipped as he squeezed back and opened his deep blue eyes. “Hello, honey.” His voice was weak and hoarse.

  “Hello, you old rascal.” Kira smiled at him through welling tears. “How are you feeling?”

  “Like shit. How do you think?”

  “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.

  “And another thing. While you’re here, you’re to be respectful—to each other and to the adults here. I want to hear ‘please’ and ‘thank you.’ I want to hear ‘yes, sir’ and ‘no, sir.’ And, you gentlemen, you’re to treat Kira and Consuelo as the ladies they are. Do you understand?”

  The students nodded.

  “I want to hear it loud and clear. Do you understand?”

  “Yes, sir!” the students chorused.

  “Fine.” He gave them his sternest glare. “Dismissed.”

  * * *

  After the students had gone to their cabins, Jake wandered outside and sat down on the front steps to clear his head. The dog came up behind him and thrust its nose under his arm. He made room for the shaggy creature beside him, one hand scratching its lopsided ears.

  Consuelo had passed on the good news about Dusty—a big relief. But even if the old man made a full recovery, he was going to be out of action for weeks, leaving Kira with the full burden of the ranch, the students and the horses. Whether he liked it or not, she was going to need his help.

  Need.

  Jake had never liked the word. It implied guilt on one side, dependency and weakness on the other. The only person he’d ever truly needed was Wendy. When she died, it was as if something vital had been torn by the roots out of his soul. He’d made a vow never to need anyone—or to be needed—again. Until today he’d managed that. Now here he was, trapped, indebted and needed.

  He had stopped petting the dog. It whined and nudged his hand, wanting more. Jake obliged, using his fingers to untangle a bur lodged under its collar.

  It wa
s dark now, the house quiet. Overhead, the night sky blossomed with stars. Bats swooped low, catching insects in midair. In the paddock, the horses were stirring, their low snorts and nickers sounding like murmured conversation.

  He remembered how Paige had shown him the way to feed the big animals. Such a smart, confident little girl, like a miniature of her mother, but with gifts of her own. She’d be in bed by now, lost in childish dreams.

  The thought of her triggered an ache in his chest. Even if he were free to love his daughter, there was no way he could claim her or think of staying. The time would come—and soon—when he’d have to walk away. He would do it, knowing it was best for her, even though it would be like ripping out a piece of his heart.

  Lord, why had he let the old man bring him here?

  Why hadn’t he realized it would be the biggest mistake of his life?

  CHAPTER SIX

  Jake was still on the porch when Kira’s Outback drove in the side gate and pulled up to the house. The dog rose to greet her, tail wagging, as she climbed out of the driver’s seat and walked around to open the back. Inside were several tall paper bags filled with groceries.

  “Let me give you a hand with those.” Jake hurried down the steps and scooped up two of the heaviest-looking bags.

  “Thanks.” Kira grabbed a third bag. “Consuelo only asked me to pick up a few things, but I got carried away.”

  Jake started up the steps again. “How’s Dusty?”

  “Holding his own. It was hard seeing him so helpless. But he’s a tough old man. He’s got to pull through. I can’t imagine this place without him.”

  “You want these bags in the kitchen?”

  “Right. The eggs, milk and juice go in the fridge. The rest can be left out till morning. In case you’re hungry, I bought extra chocolate milk and donuts.”

  Was that an invitation to stay? Jake put the groceries on the kitchen counter, leaving the question open. Kira came in with a single bag and set it on the kitchen table. She looked burned-out after the long, rough day. Shadows rimmed her storm-gray eyes. “There are two more bags in the car,” she said. “Do you mind?”