by Jerri George
“Look, your uncle knows you are with me, and we are at work, no?” His hands held her arms firmly, close to her body. He shook her gently. “You know how he hates to interrupt. He’s always so careful about making sure we concentrate on business, even more so now he’s retired…yes?”
He was peering directly into her eyes. She sighed. He always seemed to ground her. Why she never gave into his flirting boggled her mind sometimes. Life seemed more simple keeping things purely business, but at this moment, she really wanted him to reassure her and hold her together.
She looked at him pleadingly. “I know, but…”
“He probably stayed up late, thinking of something he wanted to tell you. Maybe he heard the party in the background and just hung up. Don’t jump to, how you say…conclusions?”
“But you didn’t hear his voice. Will you call him again for me on your phone? And I’ll try to reach Jesse. I liked it better when the staff was around and kept an eye on things. Just because he’s retired it doesn’t mean he can do everything on his own! You men. You all think you’re so indestructible!”
Anton smiled as he dialed the phone, dimples forming on his cheeks. He shook his head and shrugged. Candace knew she was not the first headstrong female Anton had dealt with in his life. On the contrary. Anton was raised by his mother and grandmother who were both strong-willed and hot-tempered women.
As the catering staff loaded the truck ready to close down the venue, it was nearly eleven. Anton pushed CJ. into leaving early since neither of them could reach Dan, and the only way to satisfy both their curiosity and concern was for her to go to the ranch.
“I’ll handle everything here. You go and drive with care,” he said. Anton had been her counterpart and right arm for the past three years. He was blessed with a natural talent for working with food and an ability to create and experiment with the zeal and finesse of a much older and experienced culinary master. He surrendered to his passion, giving up his mother’s idea of architectural college, and trained with Candace at Johnson and Wales, a choice his mother still cursed in letters from the old country.
As Candace navigated out of the Front Range alone heading south on I-25 out of Colorado, she thought about nothing but Uncle Dan, the man who had rescued her fifteen years before.
Nearing the border between Colorado and New Mexico, Candace decided to call her best friend. Dawn was one of the few people who could understand what she was feeling at the moment, but there was no answer. She left a message with as many details as she could proffer, which was hardly anything.
The pair had grown up together. As toddlers they were transported from one worldwide locale to another, napping while their mother’s sun-bathed and their driven fathers, or in Candace’s case, father and uncle, created new ways to bring in cash. As they grew into prepubescence, even their nannies had difficulty reigning them in.
Fair skinned, fine food-loving Candace, became a plump, curly haired strawberry blonde, with freckles and a fetching smile who found comfort in ordering room service, peeking into dining rooms and shadowing hotel staff with primped buffets for dinner. Dawn, a year older and prematurely boy crazy, was a foot taller than Candace ever since childhood, sported sleek shoulder-length chestnut colored hair, and eyes the color of chocolate M&M’s. Left to her own devices, Dawn gravitated toward hotel room mini-bars, and poolside cabanas strutting her developing bikini-clad body.
After Candace had been sent to boarding school, they reconnected in the summers, sharing lessons in tennis and golf from pros in the Hamptons. A peculiar pair, the likes of salt and pepper or Laurel and Hardy, were very different but had found a connection in an odd and lonely world.
Before reaching the highway to Gallegos, Candace placed another call that elicited no response.
“Now would be a good time for you to use that sixth sense of yours and call me, Jesse,” she said aloud. Her hands gripped the leather steering wheel cover with worry. She had never considered anything bad happening to Uncle Dan.
Chapter 5
By the time Candace reached the ranch, she could tell something was definitely awry. Her uncle insisted she come tonight, but the house and courtyard fountain were dark, and the only movement were shadows of tree limbs reflecting in the moonlight, eerily dancing like puppet figures on the barrel tiled roof. In the late-night darkness, she barely saw beyond the house’s wood frame that held the pine logs of the structure securely in place.
Dan and his foreman Nate had painstakingly hammered and glued each one of those logs closely together when Candace was no more than eight. They erected the entire six-bedroom, four-bath, one-level home during one of the summers Candace and Dawn stayed on the ranch. The girls climbed the surrounding trees and swam in the five-acre lake as the smell of freshly hewed wood permeated the air with the echo of hammers striking heavy nails resounded in their heads. Those scents and sounds were just as much a part of Candace’s memories as the soft feel of the bare hollow boards giving way underfoot tonight.
The unlatched door, made of heavy wooden planks resembling an old storm-weathered ship, was ajar. It was unlikely it simply blew open. Decorated with a wrought-iron levered handle, large Spanish style hinges, and a black metal grate which covered a beveled window at its center, Candace pushed the ornate door open. Something she didn’t have the strength for until the age of ten.
“Uncle Dan?” she called, raising her voice only slightly. The night was so still. “Uncle?”
Her fingers touched the handle. She pushed, and the door gave ever so slightly. Swollen from the chilly night, it creaked. Candace wished she'd left the headlights on to her SUV so it could have shined into where she stood. It was pitch black inside. She leaned into the doorway and peered through the darkness.
“Uncle Dan, where are you? I got here as soon as I could.” Her concern showed in her voice. It was oddly vacant and lonely feeling with the ranch hands and Jesse not there. Her hand groped the wall for the light switch. Her reach successful, the room was suddenly ablaze from the overhead deer-antler chandeliers. She saw the familiar dark brown dual-leather sofas draped in Aztec-patterned saddle blankets. Wooden rockers with upholstered ottomans and Uncle Dan’s plaid overstuffed chair filled the rest of the room. Built-in oak shelves displayed Dan’s library of favorite books and collectible statues of deer, elk and bear in a variety of sizes and mediums. Leftover wall space provided a home to animal-head trophies. Three elk, two antelope and his prized safari-slain rhinoceros hung proudly center stage over an enormous stone fireplace. Several bright, intricately woven Indian rugs scattered the floor, the largest one under the mammoth dining room table capable of seating sixteen.
“Uncle Dan!” Candace screamed when she discovered his body crumpled on the floor. She was unprepared seeing his massive form sprawled across the threshold of the fireplace.
She ran to his side and fell to her knees. With trembling fingers, her hand tentatively touched his wet matted hair. A trickle of blood had puddled on the floor. “Oh, Uncle, can you hear me?”
There was no movement, but Candace could hear him breathing slightly with her ear gently placed on his chest. Her limited medical knowledge left her at a loss. She didn't know where to touch him or what to do. She could easily assess the condition of a piece of meat roasting in an oven, but that training was no help here.
Grabbing her cell phone, half talking to herself and half expressing her plight to the room at large, she pondered aloud, “I can't get you up or get you into the car all by myself. What can I do to help you?”
She dialed 911.
Candace took his hand and held it, fingers entwined, like she did when she was young, rocking back and forth on her heels in worry as she waited for the ambulance. The hospital was in town. Almost an hour from the ranch by choice. In fact, it would be farther if it wasn't for poorly accessible water and electrical connections in this part of New Mexico. Uncle Dan always liked Gallegos but it was years behind in population, planning, zoning and utilities. An hour se
emed like an interminable amount of time to wait for a speeding ambulance.
Candace jumped up and dashed to the kitchen, grabbing a dish towel and soaking it under cold running water. They had dug their own well. She remembered her uncle hands-on with the kitchen, too. The walls were covered with numerous substantial oak cabinets with wrought-iron pulls. The black and gold granite countertops he had installed were quite forward-thinking at the time along with the deep porcelain farm sink and stainless-steel worktables. It was nothing but the best for the Kane family patriarch.
Her mind flashed back to countless parties and celebrations they had on school holidays and summer breaks. Guests loved to hang out while pots of spicy beans and creamy sauces were simmered, and pitchers of margaritas flowed, served up in oversized decorative stemware. Times after she, Jesse and Uncle became a family. She shuddered looking at the kitchen now. Dark, quiet, empty, the way it would be without Uncle Dan.
She wrung out the cloth and returned to Dan's side, dabbing it across his brow then placed it on his forehead. Shock, she thought to herself. He might be suffering from shock. A solution quickly came to mind, and she grabbed one of the fur pelts thrown across the arm of the sofa. She wrapped it around him, leaned over his nearly lifeless body and kissed his cheek.
Candace began to pray, then to ponder. How did this happen? A tall lamp had been pulled off a nearby end table and a fireplace poker lay next to him. Had he grabbed it to defend himself against an intruder, or did he simply have a heart attack or stroke and collapse while tending the fire and hit his head? God forbid a thousand times.
“I knew you shouldn't have stayed out here all by yourself! You’re going to be alright now. I’m here.” Her soothing conversation with the room continued as she rocked back on her feet again. A chill ran through her body. Deserts were oddly cold at night, but the wood in the fireplace was new and void of any sign of flame or ash. There was certainly no reason for her uncle to need a poker. Weathered cardboard boxes sat on the dining room table with what looked to be their contents, yellowed and dusty, strewn on the chairs and floor. Had he been packing or searching for something? She knew he’d been planning on clearing out the attic once he retired.
There was an open bottle of wine with two of his favorite wine glasses partially full. Did he have company? Were they drinking? Was someone else here when he fell? Why didn’t they help him? Were the glasses from earlier in the day, and he was surprised by a thief and attacked? Is that how he became injured? What if that someone was still here?
She stopped her unconscious rocking and looked around the room to make sure they were alone. Suddenly, the music from the ringtone of her phone broke the silence and made her jump.
She caught her breath when she saw it was Anton and answered. “Hello?”
“CJ, what happened? Are you alright?” His voice was profoundly concerned. They hadn’t spoken in hours.
“Oh, Anton, I…I don't know. When I got here everything was dark, but the door was unlocked and cracked open. When I came inside, I found Uncle on the floor!” Candace let out a sob. “He's badly hurt. His head was bleeding, so I placed a cloth against it. He's not moving, but he's breathing. Thank God, he's alive!”
“I will come down.” He stated firmly. “I know how you must be feeling, but your uncle is a strong man, CJ.”
“No, no! Don’t come. I’ll be going to the hospital and by the time you get here, it will be nearly morning.” Her voice was heavy with stress. “Did you reach Jesse?”
“No, not yet. How long have you been there?”
She hoped she was making sense. “Ummm, it’s been about an hour, no, less. When I called 911, they said it would take less than an hour to get here, but they’re not here yet. I better call and see if they’re lost. I’ll call you back. I wish you weren’t so far.”
“So do I. Call me whatever time. Bye, my кукла.” his Russian nickname for her which sounded so playful.
The ambulance arrived moments later, pulling up close enough for their high beams to flood the porch and great room with intense light. Nearly blinded, Candace squinted through the floor-to-ceiling bay window. A couple of police cars pulled in right behind them and uniformed figures immediately swarmed the house. Of course, they would need more time and daylight to scour the entire ranch. EMT's were all over him with needles, wires and machines, accompanied by beeps and buzzes. An endless series of numbers were shouted and relayed over and over into walkie-talkies. Candace was pushed out of the way.
The officer in charge attempted to question Dan but there was no response. He turned to Candace as if on auto pilot. Sheriff Sam Solodad, a native from Gallegos, had played with her when they were kids. They spent time fishing and swimming together in the lake during the summers, and it was widely suspected he had a crush on Candace, but it didn't seem as if he remembered her now.
After telling him how she came to find her uncle and explaining her actions since her call to fire rescue, she excused herself to question the larger, burlier of the three emergency responders about her uncle’s condition.
“Well, it's hard to say at this point, ma’am. We're doing everything we can to stabilize him for transport. How old is your Uncle, Ms... uh, is it Kane?” He asked matter-of-factly looking down at the paperwork on his clipboard.
“Fifty-five next month.” She could hardly believe it, he was always so young and vital, a fact credited to her.
“Is he allergic to any medicines? Taking any medications?”
“I think he takes something for high blood pressure.” Why hadn't she thought to ask this sort of information and keep it written down somewhere? She must seem so poorly informed. “I’ve been trying to reach his housekeeper.”
“Good, good. Can you please accompany one of the deputies to your uncle’s bathroom, and check through his medicine cabinet or a drawer in his nightstand? We often find things there that help us,” he encouraged her.
She returned with two bottles in hand and gave them to the medic. Not knowing the pharmaceutical purpose of either one frustrated her.
She looked at the name on his ID tag. “Charlie, do you know my uncle?”
“Yes, quite well, ma’am,” he answered. “My son has been out to ride the therapy horses a lot in the past few years.”
“Oh, I didn't know.” She was relieved to have any kind of familiar contact, anybody who could extend some personal consideration and genuinely care about her uncle. Dan had established equine therapy sessions for youngsters with difficulty communicating. They were working with a grant study to report findings as to how the kids interacted with the animals. So far it was a huge success. Her uncle’s ranch was a genuine working ranch with cattle and horses, and these days it operated on a skeleton crew, but he was always looking for ways to utilize the resources since he was never one to take his financial blessings lightly. In addition to the treatment program, he was also working with the county utility company testing the value of windmills for many applications.
“Do you think he'll regain consciousness soon? Can I follow you to the hospital?” She felt more comfortable quizzing him now that he actually knew her uncle.
“I wouldn't recommend it. It's against the law to follow an ambulance with sirens, and traveling at our speed isn’t safe. You can come to the hospital later or you can ride with us if you'd like,” Charlie offered. He looked to the sheriff as though for confirmation.
“No. Ms. Kane needs to be here a little while longer,” Sam asserted his authority, although Candace was quite sure she could have demanded otherwise. If she could wrap things up here and get Uncle to safety, she could tell Jesse to meet her at the hospital. Where was she anyways?
A stretcher with belts and blankets appeared. It took three gorilla-sized emergency technicians to hoist him onto the gurney. Moments later her uncle was whisked over the threshold and into the waiting vehicle, which lit up like a Christmas tree against the night. They sped off toward the highway, spewing sand and pebbles everywhere. A cloud of s
and particles filled the air, and only silence was left in its wake.
Chapter 6
“Uncle, you just have to wake up!” Candace insisted. With the exception of the force of the oxygen pump moving his chest, he was lifeless. The doctors had performed surgery to relieve swelling in his brain and placed him in ICU. Candace was alone with him again. Nurses were scribbling in charts and comparing notes at their station just outside the door to his room.
“I can’t lose another person. Not one other single person,” she spoke to the room, her words directed more toward the ceiling than to her uncle. Red faced, eyes brimming with tears, she wished her mom was there. “God, what have or haven’t I done that makes you want to teach me so many lessons about loss? I’ve only just begun to live my life and now this. Anton and I are finally getting somewhere with To Dine For Catering. If Uncle doesn’t make it, he’ll never see us become successful, or see me get married or have children. I need him so much, Lord,” she whimpered. She felt her mother’s presence, her warm supportive hug and gentle arms. Is she here with me?
Candace strolled over to the window. “Mom, you told me a long time ago that God’s word says that when His children cry out to Him they will be heard. I am…I am crying out to Him, Mother.”
She dropped her head back, her heart-shaped face tilted upward as if an offering to the sky. Her eyes moist, fixed on the heavens, beseeching.
“If I can just have him back, I will never ask for another thing as long as I live, God, I swear.” Her voice was almost guttural in nature. She could imagine her mother’s answer in her head, “Have faith, sweetheart. God will not take him from you. You must have faith that the doctors are doing everything they can and he will come back to you.”
Candace experienced renewed resolve. She breathed in deeply and made a conscious change in course. She began picking up items that were carelessly strewn around, filling her uncle’s empty water pitcher, organizing the untouched pudding and juice containers which awaited his recovery and tucked his sheet in around him.
