JOSH MCGREGOR REINED in his horse when his satellite phone rang. He pulled it from his saddlebag and saw his parents’ phone number on the display.
“Hey, what’s up?” he answered.
“Josh, can you get to Montana right away?” asked his mother in a trembling voice.
Alarm went through him. Mom would never sound so shaky unless something terrible had happened.
“What’s wrong?”
“It’s...your...” She stopped and he could hear her crying and saying something about how she’d thought she could handle it.
His stomach twisted.
A moment later his father came on the line. “Josh, there’s been a car accident. Grandpa Walt and Grandma Evelyn. A drunk driver...”
Gripping the phone so hard his fingers hurt, Josh tried to sound calm. “How bad?” He couldn’t bring himself to ask if they were still alive.
“Bad. They were airlifted to the hospital in Helena and are both in surgery. You should get here as soon as possible...just in case.” The last words were very soft, as if that would keep them from reminding his wife that her parents could be dying.
“I’ll be there, whatever it takes,” Josh promised, his throat tightening unbearably. He loved both his grandparents, but he had a special bond with Grandma Evelyn.
“Just get here safely,” said his father. “Hear me?”
“I hear. Don’t let Mom worry.”
“All right. We love you, son.”
Josh urged his stallion into a gallop and they quickly covered the three miles back to the large barns of the Texas ranch where he worked. He tossed the reins to a ranch hand. “Take care of Lightfoot for me, will you? I’ve got a family emergency.”
“Sure, boss.”
He stopped at the ranch house to let the Gordons know he was leaving, and also to phone Mark Eisley, his second in command. A call to the airline got him on the next flight leaving for Montana.
* * *
A FEW HOURS LATER Josh charged into the reception area of the hospital.
“Josh,” a soft voice exclaimed. Emily, his new sister-in-law, jumped up from one of the seats and gave him a fierce hug. “Come on,” she said. “They’re in intensive care. It’s this way.”
Grateful, he followed her through the hallways.
“How are they?” he asked.
She shook her head. “No change in their conditions in the last couple of hours. They’re still critical. I get updates now and then, but I told Trent to stay with your mother while I waited for you. She needs all the support she can get right now.”
Until Trent had gotten together with Emily, Josh wasn’t sure his brother’s presence would have been much comfort. She’d softened his edges in ways no one else had been able to do.
The rest of the family was in the intensive care waiting room. Mom was leaning against Dad, and Trent was on the other side, holding her hand. His sister, Madison, who lived in Seattle now, was already there, as well. There was a pained stillness around the room. Even DeeDee, his brother Jackson’s lively stepdaughter, was unnaturally solemn.
His dad got up and gave him a fierce, silent hug; Parker’s embrace alone would have told Josh, if he hadn’t already known, how serious the situation was.
Sarah McGregor also stood and put her arms around him. “I’m so glad you’re here, son,” she murmured. “You can see them next.”
Josh understood the drill at ICUs. Only two visitors, at limited intervals.
Ten minutes later an aide came into the room. His father nodded, and Josh went with her through a wide door. His grandmother lay in the first cubicle.
Agony shot through him as he saw the bandages on Evelyn Nelson’s head and left shoulder.
He leaned over the bed, took her right hand and whispered, “It’s Josh, Grandma.”
Her fingers tightened for a moment.
“She squeezed my hand,” he whispered to the nurse who was adjusting an IV.
The woman gave him a kind, sad look. “It’s likely just a reflex,” she said gently, but Josh didn’t believe it.
He turned back to his grandmother. “I’m going to see Grandpa now,” he whispered and felt her thumb press against his palm. “I love you.”
If possible, the nightmare got worse when Josh saw his grandfather. Walt’s face was bruised and swollen, and a machine was breathing for him. His leg was swathed with bandages, blood staining through, and Josh wondered how extensive the damage might be. Lord, Grandpa would hate to be disabled; running his ranch was everything to Walt Nelson.
“Hey, Grandpa, it’s Josh,” he said, slipping his hand around the slack fingers. But this time there wasn’t any response, not even
