Brenda Minton - Her Guardian Rancher

Daron kept driving. “I’m not patrolling. I’m just driving by on a public street.”

“Call it what you want,” Art said. “I call it patrolling. Emma calls it being a nuisance. I reckon you have your reasons.”

“I’d like to be able to help out, Art.”

“There’s nothing you can help with, Daron. I know you mean well, but we’ve got it handled. We’ve struggled a bit, but things aren’t so bad we can’t deal with it. This hand might slow down patching up that roof, but we got a tarp on it yesterday and that’ll hold us over until I can climb up there.”

“But what about Pete?” Boone asked, entering the conversation with a quiet question. “What’s he after?”

“He’s an addict who believes there’s more money than what he got. Emma has other concerns without Pete stirring up trouble for her. I told her to call his parents but she won’t. She doesn’t want anything to do with Andy’s family.”

“Don’t you think they’d like to know Jamie?” Boone asked, his tone casual.

Art guffawed at that. “They know they have a granddaughter. But they’re the kind that thinks they’re better than others, and that Emma wasn’t quite what they wanted for their son. They encouraged the divorce. I can’t say I wasn’t glad when the marriage ended, as Andy wasn’t particularly nice to my granddaughter, but I’m sorry his family lost him.”

“Art, what’s wrong with Jamie?” Daron tried to ease back into the conversation, but he saw from the corner of his eye that it didn’t work.

“Now, that’s something you’ll have to ask Emma. And I reckon if she wanted you to know, she’d tell you.”

“She’s been too busy telling him to leave her alone,” Boone added.

Daron didn’t thank his friend for his special brand of humor. He wanted answers, and this wasn’t getting him anywhere. He drove faster, telling himself he wanted to get Art to the ER a little quicker.

It wasn’t the truth. What he wanted was to get to Emma’s side, sooner rather than later. He could tell himself it was because he was worried about Jamie, which he was. Or he could blame it on a need to keep Andy’s widow safe.

He needed to keep a promise to a dying friend. When he’d made the promise to Andy, it was about a woman he didn’t know and a baby not yet born.

Now he knew them. He knew Emma as a woman of strength and faith. She loved her little girl. She loved her grandfather.

Unconditional love.

Watching her, being around them, it made him want to be a better man. The kind of man she allowed into her life.

Chapter Four

Emma stood back as her daughter was examined by the on-call physician in the Braswell Community Hospital pediatric wing. The doctor smiled as he rubbed the stethoscope to warm it; then he winked at her daughter and told her she was brave and promised she’d be getting the best dessert once they were finished with the examination.

“She’s a strong girl, Mom.” The doctor listened, “Another breath, Jamie.”

Jamie took a deep, shaky breath. She was still pale. Her lips weren’t as pink as normal. It had been so frightening, that moment when Emma realized her daughter was gasping for air. She’d hit the call button, summoning a nurse as she tried to calm Jamie, telling her it was fine, to take slow, easy breaths.

A hand touched Emma’s. Samantha Jenkins moved to her side. “I’m sorry—I was with another patient down in X-ray. She’s okay, Emma.”

Not a question, a statement of fact. Samantha’s expression was reassuring as she gave Emma a quick hug.

Emma nodded, accepting the words of encouragement, but it didn’t immediately undo her fear. Her hands trembled and she couldn’t seem to stop the shaking.

“Let’s step into the hall,” Dr. Jacobs said, patting Jamie’s arm. “I’m going to have a nurse come in and give Jamie her dessert options.”

“Mommy.” Jamie’s voice was weak.

“I’ll be right back, sweetie.”

Tears filled Jamie’s blue eyes. Emma leaned to kiss her forehead. She wiped away the tears that rolled down her daughter’s flushed cheeks and she fought the tightness in her own throat.

“Your mom will be right back, kiddo. And I bet the two of you will share a brownie.” Samantha eased in next to Emma. “I’ll stay with you until she gets back.”

Jamie nodded, her eyes closing as Samantha trailed fingers through her hair. Emma stepped into the hall where Dr. Jacobs waited. The elevators at the end of the hall opened. Her grandfather stepped out and headed her way. Daron McKay followed. The fear that had cascaded over her gave way to relief. The tears she’d fought fell free and she sobbed.

“Let’s take a walk.” Dr. Jacobs inclined his head, directing her away from Jamie’s room.

Her grandfather, his hand bandaged from the cut she’d been called about, and Daron, fell in next to her. She hadn’t wanted to be alone. Now she wasn’t. Tears continued to stream down her cheeks and she swiped at them with her hand until her grandfather handed her a clean, white handkerchief from his pocket.

Dr. Jacobs led them to a conference room with a table, bright fluorescent lights and molded plastic chairs. “It isn’t comfortable, but there’s more room if we’re going to have several of us. Unless you’d prefer just the two of us having this conversation?”

“No, of course not.” Her gaze skimmed past her granddad to Daron, standing in the doorway, his cowboy hat in his hands as he waited. “They can join us.”

Dr. Jacobs motioned them all to the table. “Let’s have a seat.”

She sat down, the chair scraping on the tile floor. Daron sat at the end of the table, several chairs away. Her grandfather sat next to her. He put his arm around her, giving her a light squeeze. The gesture was as familiar as her own reflection in the mirror. From the very beginning, that had been his way of comforting a lost and hurting girl. She was a woman now, and sometimes felt responsible for him, but he was still her strength.

Dr. Jacobs sat across from them. He was youngish, with dark hair and dark eyes, the smooth planes of his face covered in five o’clock shadow. Yes, he was older than her twenty-eight years. But he was still too young.

“Isn’t Dr. Jackson in today?” she asked.

Dr. Jacobs smiled, because of course she’d made it obvious that she was worried. “Not today, but don’t worry. I’m smarter than I look.”

“I’m sorry,” she started to apologize, and he stopped her.

“Don’t be. I know I look young. I also know that your daughter is the most important person in your life and you want only the best for her. I’m the best. I wouldn’t be here if Dr. Jackson didn’t think that I was qualified for the position. So let’s figure out what we need to do for your daughter.”

“Okay.” She met his steady gaze. “What do we do?”

He glanced over the file in his hands. “We start with an echocardiogram. I’m worried about the ventricular septal defect, but I also think she has pneumonia. We’ll do blood tests, start her on IV antibiotics and get her hydrated.”

He listed it off, as if it were a shopping list. But it was her daughter. It was Jamie’s heart. It was her life.

“She’ll be okay,” Emma heard herself say. Not a question. A statement of faith. God hadn’t gotten them this far to let them down.

“She’ll be great. I think she should stay in the hospital for a few days. And I also think we need to take a careful look at her heart because it might be time to repair the VSD.”

“Open-heart surgery?” For years she’d dreaded those words.

“I hope not. We have options other than open heart. I’m an optimist.” Dr. Jacobs gave her a steady look. “I’m also a man of faith. We’ll do everything we can. And when we’ve done all we can, we stand on faith.”