Daddy's Angel. Annette Broadrick
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A person couldn’t get away from the reminders, no matter how much he tried.
A strong gust of wind grabbing at his hat brought Bret jarringly back to the present. He reached up and once more tugged the brim down low over his eyes.
Looking around, he noticed that while he’d been lost in thought, they’d managed to reach the dirt road that led back to the ranch buildings. Bret signaled the horse by subtly shifting his weight. Hercules immediately responded with ground-eating strides and Rex loped along beside them.
They reached the ranch buildings minutes before the storm hit. Safely inside the barn, Bret watched from the wide doorway as large hail bounced off the ground and the surrounding buildings. He breathed a thankful prayer that he’d gotten home when he did.
He took his time unsaddling Hercules and cooling him down before he wiped the horse dry and fed him. Although he could always explain to Freda and the kids that he’d been waiting for the first of the front to pass by, he knew the truth.
He dreaded going inside. If Roy hadn’t taken Chris to town when he got home from school, then Bret knew he’d have to do so as soon as they ate.
If Roy had taken Chris to town, then Bret would have to help decorate the tree tonight. He knew he was putting off the inevitable. Sooner or later he would have to go into the house and face whatever festivities the family had planned for the evening.
By the time Bret sprinted across the wide expanse between the barn and house the hail had been replaced by pounding, icy rain splashing mud and turning the ground into a slippery quagmire.
He took the back-porch steps two at a time, then paused beneath the shelter of the roof to wipe off the bottoms of his boots before entering Freda’s spotless kitchen. He removed his gloves and opened the door, already anticipating a cup of Freda’s coffee to help remove the chill.
The first thing he noticed when he opened the door was the dark kitchen. The kitchen was the heart of their home, and its light generally came on first thing in the morning and stayed on until the last thing at night.
Today it was dark and deserted.
Bret absently brushed his hat off his head and hung it and his coat on a set of hooks beside the back door, next to the children’s jackets. He noted that Chris’s coat wasn’t there, which probably meant that Chris and Roy hadn’t returned from town, but didn’t explain why Freda wasn’t in the kitchen preparing supper.
“Hello?” he called. “Anybody home?”
Bret heard scrambling upstairs and the clattering of feet on the wooden stairs. At least somebody was here.
Eleven-year-old Brenda was the first to appear. Her golden eyes were wide with concern. Bret had a sudden sense of unease flash over him, which was confirmed with her first words.
“Dad! Thank goodness you’re home! You’ll never guess what happened this afternoon!”
Since his daughter was known for speaking in exclamations whenever she was excited, Bret tried not to let her delivery cause him to jump to premature conclusions before hearing some details. Obviously something had happened out of their normal routine.
Eight-year-old Sally arrived immediately behind her sister, looking worried. However, Bret felt a strong sense of unease when three-year-old Travis came in clutching his familiar stuffed giraffe by its long neck, his eyes red from crying and his face pale. Bret knelt down on one knee and Travis ran into his arms, burying his face in Bret’s neck.
Bret fought a surge of panic. The three younger children were obviously all right. It had to be…
“What happened? Is Chris—”
Brenda rushed into speech. “Chris and Roy had to take Freda to the hospital a while ago. She fell and Roy’s afraid maybe she broke her leg or her hip or something. Oh, Dad! It was awful! She was in the kitchen and Roy thinks she must have stepped on some tree needles or something that dropped on the floor when they brought the tree inside and she didn’t see it. Roy checked her as best as he could, then he called the doctor and the doctor said for him to get her to the hospital.” She finally had to pause for a breath.
Bret stood, still holding Travis in his arms. In a quiet voice, which effectively disguised his growing sense of panic, he asked, “How long ago did this happen?”
Sally was the one who answered. “Almost two hours ago. We promised Freda we’d keep Travis entertained until you got back home and we did, but now he’s saying he’s hungry and we weren’t sure what we should do.”
Brenda responded. “Of course we knew what to do, Dad. It isn’t like I don’t know how to cook or anything. But you told us not to have any fire going when an adult wasn’t here, so I’ve been waiting, thinking you’d be home soon.”
Bret stroked her head with his hand. “Thanks, honey. I’m glad you remembered.”
“We could have sandwiches, couldn’t we?” Sally asked, glaring at her sister.
“That’s a good idea,” Bret said. “Why don’t you make some while I call the hospital and see what I can find out about Freda?” He gave Travis a quick hug, then set him in his high chair. With quick strides Bret headed down the hallway to his office, where he could talk in private.
The closest hospital was almost fifty miles away. Although the facility was small, several doctors drove from the surrounding large cities—Austin and San Antonio—to provide additional services to the sparsely populated hill country. He knew that Freda would receive excellent care there. What he was concerned about at the moment was the seriousness of her injuries.
As soon as he got through to the hospital Bret had Roy paged. He drummed his fingers on the desk, waiting what seemed like hours before Roy finally came on the line.
“How is she?”
Roy laughed, which eased Bret’s tension considerably. “That woman’s too feisty for her own good, boss. She’s insisting she’s got to get back home tonight, that she’s got too much to do and that the children shouldn’t be left alone. You know what she’s like.”
“Can you tell me what happened? The girls were a little excited and I’m not sure I understood.”
“She stepped on something slippery and her foot went out from under her. Me and Chris had been trailing back and forth through there, bringing in the tree and all, and it’s my guess we tracked something inside the house and she didn’t see it in time to avoid it. It wouldn’t have been so bad but she fell wrong—all awkwardlike. From the pain she was in I pretty much figured she’d broke a bone.”
“Is that what the doctors say?”
“Yep, her leg’s definitely broken. They’re ordering further tests, including more X rays, to look for anything else that might have been injured. I called Freda’s sister in Austin to let her know about it, so she’s on her way over here to sit with her.”
“Did the doctor say how long she would need to stay in the hospital?”
“He