Quinn

by R. C. Ryan

  He looked beyond them. “Where’s Big Jim?”

  “At the airport.” Josh grinned. “He was here and talked to the doctors. Now he’s going over our plane with the mechanic, so he can fly Pa home whenever the doc releases him.”

  Jake nodded toward their father. “What’s the verdict?” His voice was little more than a whisper.

  “The patient will live,” came the gravelly voice from the bed.

  Seeing that their father was awake and alert, they hurried over to grasp his hand.

  Cole Conway managed a weak smile. “What took you so long?”

  “Sorry, Pa.” Josh shot his father a grin. “I was up in high country. Took me some time to make my way down. At least, once I got within range, I was able to learn why you were here. What’d the doctor say?”

  “You can ask him yourself.” Cole nodded toward the doorway and his three sons turned as the white-coated physician strode across the room.

  “Dr. Whittacre, you met Quinn, but you haven’t yet met my other two sons. Josh and Jake.”

  The three exchanged handshakes.

  “Dr. Whittacre’s the finest cardio surgeon in Wyoming.” Cole’s eyes twinkled. “Or so everyone on this floor tells me.”

  “From your lips.” The young surgeon, with soft hands and an engaging smile, moved to the foot of the bed. “The test results are in. You suffered a mild myocardial infarction. In layman’s terms, a heart attack, which always results in some damage. But since you were lucky to get in as quickly as you did, the damage seems minimal.”

  “Great. When can I leave?” Cole was already swinging his legs over the side of the bed.

  “Hold on.” The young doctor moved quickly to lay a hand on Cole’s arm, restraining him. “You’ll be released. But not until you meet with my associate, Dr. Bradley, who will give you a list of things you’ll need to do going forward.”

  “Do? Hell, just tell me when I can get back on a horse, drive my tractor, and when I can fly my plane again.”

  “It’s a lot more complicated than that, Mr. Conway. There’s diet, and exercise, and—”

  Cole swore and glanced at his sons. “See why I avoid doctors and hospitals?” He looked over at the doctor. “I have a ranch to run. A herd to see to. Ranch hands depending on me to pay them. Several international companies that depend upon my land to remain in business. And some young intern fresh out of medical school is going to talk to me about what I should eat and how many push-ups I need to do every day? I don’t have time for this.”

  “I’m sure you don’t.” Dr. Whittacre kept his easy smile in place. “But if you don’t follow orders, Mr. Conway, you may find yourself with all the time in the world. You could find yourself sitting in an easy chair, drooling into your bib, and trying to tell your family what you want, which won’t be easy after you’ve suffered a major stroke.”

  Cole fell back against the pillows as though he’d been slapped.

  Jake’s protective instinct kicked in and he draped an arm around his father’s shoulders before giving the doctor a steely look. “That’s some bedside manner, Doctor. Do you really think that was necessary?”

  “Sometimes my patients just don’t understand the gravity of what they’ve come through.” He spoke directly to Cole. “You were lucky, Mr. Conway. This time. But your heart can’t be pushed like a string of horses on a roundup. If it wears out, you can’t saddle up a spare. So you need to take better care of the one you have, from this day on. After you’ve spoken with Dr. Bradley, who, by the way, has been out of med school for a number of years and is a much-respected professional, I’ll have your discharge papers ready. And I’ll want you to set up an appointment to see Dr. April Walton in Paintbrush in four weeks. By then I’ll have all your data sent to her, and we’ll come up with a plan that you can live with. Can I count on you to follow through on this?”

  “You’ve got my word on it,” Cole said gruffly.

  The doctor shook hands with Josh and Quinn and reached across the bed to shake Jake’s hand before walking away.

  “That arrogant—”

  Before Jake could finish, Quinn grinned at his father. “That’s the first time I’ve ever seen you cave in so easily.”

  Their father shrugged. “Gotta know when to hold ’em and when to fold ’em. I figure he’s holding all the aces on this one.”

  The four men tossed back their heads and laughed.

  Jake gave a shake of his head. “I guess some things never change. While Rome is burning, the Conway men make jokes to cover the seriousness of the situation.”

  “It’s better than crying.” Cole turned from his angry youngest to study his firstborn. “You look rough. Have you slept at all?”

  Quinn realized that his father was eager to change the subject. Cole had never been one to bare his soul, and knowing his father so well, Quinn figured the old man was more embarrassed at having been felled by a heart condition than worried about the consequences of it.

  Quinn chuckled. “There’ll be time enough for sleep later. Right now, all that matters is that you’re going home.”

  Something flared in Cole’s eyes and he blinked quickly before looking away. “Okay. Why don’t you three go find something to eat while I wait for Dr. Bradley? When I’m through with him, I’d like to get out of here.”

  Jake clapped a hand on his father’s shoulder. “It can’t be too soon for me.”

  Quinn turned away and the other two followed, eager to learn whatever knowledge he’d gleaned that would fill in the gaps of their limited information about their father’s shocking medical crisis.

  CHAPTER TWO

  As soon as the room emptied, Cole Conway gave a long, deep sigh.

  Until this moment, he hadn’t realized just how much he’d missed having his three sons around him.

  This event—he refused to allow himself to even think the words heart attack—had left him stunned and reeling.

  What if Quinn hadn’t come home when he did? How long could he have survived alone?

  His last clear memory before waking in the hospital was working out in the main barn, mucking out the stall of his favorite gelding, Scout. Cole had been doing the same down-and-dirty chores since he’d been a kid, and the last thing he’d expected was to be flattened by hard work.

  Or had this event been caused by something else?

  Stress? The doctors kept mentioning that word, but wasn’t the life of every rancher filled with stress?

  While mucking the stall he’d been thinking about his sons. About how proud he was of them. Not only were they able to pursue their own distinct interests, but they did so while managing to pitch in and help keep the ranch running smoothly.

  Take Quinn. He’d carved out an amazing career as a wildlife expert, yet he was always around when he was most needed. Despite his frequent treks in the wilderness chasing after his pack, he always returned renewed and energized.

  And there was Josh, back from climbing somewhere in the Wind River Mountain Range, searching for another careless climber who’d gotten himself lost. It was always Josh those rangers called when they ran out of hope. As though he had nothing better to do than leave a dozen ranch chores unfinished while he traipsed off in search of the lost. Cole felt a thrill of pride at the knowledge that his middle son was as comfortable hiking in the treacherous snow-covered mountains as a city kid would be walking to a neighborhood park. He supposed, to Josh, it was like a walk in the park. His neighborhood. His childhood home. His comfort zone. Spread over thousands of acres of the most desolate mountains in the West.

  Cole sighed. And then there was Jake. Pursuing veterinary medicine. Cole shook his head in amazement. Who would have believed that the wild, fearless boy would suddenly settle down and decide that what their ranch needed most was a veterinarian? What was even more amazing to Cole was the fact that his youngest son had aced every test and had gotten himself into one of the toughest veterinary programs in the country.

  Thinking of Jake always had Co
le thinking of Jake’s mother. He had been so young when Seraphine had disappeared. Did the lad have any memory of her at all? Of her laughing eyes? Her fabulous hair, which she’d dyed every color imaginable. Black. Red. Platinum. As though she couldn’t decide who she wanted to be—earth mother or seductress. Not that it ever mattered to Cole. He’d loved her no matter what part she was playing. He’d loved everything about her. That fine porcelain complexion. Those green eyes, all fire and ice. That lithe dancer’s body. He swore under his breath. And that hardheaded attitude that Cole found both endearing and infuriating.

  Cole suddenly frowned. He remembered something else that had flashed through his mind just before the incident. He’d been worried about the fact that sometimes he couldn’t remember Seraphine as clearly as in years gone by.

  Was she slipping away from him? Was he letting her slip away?

  Drained by too many memories and lulled by the steady drip of the intravenous in his arm, Cole slept and dreamed of home.

  “That beef stew hit the spot.” Cole, seated at the head of the table, mopped up the last of the gravy with a biscuit and sat back, glancing around at the others.

  Though he appeared as rugged and rock steady as ever, with that rogue smile and handsome, Irish countenance, there was a weariness in his eyes that he couldn’t hide.

  Big Jim, an older mirror of his son, except for the white in his full head of hair, was seated at the opposite end of the table. Both father and son were lean and muscled, eyes crinkled at the corners as much by laughter as by the effects of a lifetime squinting into wind and sun.

  Big Jim drained his mug of coffee and nodded. “I bet you didn’t get food like this at the hospital.”

  Cole shared a smile with his father. “I have to say, it wasn’t half-bad. But then, all I remember having is some broth and some mashed potatoes.”

  “Saving your appetite for the homecoming, were you?”

  The two men laughed. Around the table, the others joined in.

  As they had been for years, Quinn and Josh were seated to the left of Big Jim, with Jake and Phoebe and Ela on his right.

  Phoebe wasn’t exactly seated. During the meal she’d been up and down half a dozen times, fetching a forgotten pitcher of water, then a batch of biscuits from the counter, and later the freshly baked apple pies that had been cooling in the kitchen. There had also been refills of coffee, a tray of mugs, along with cream and sugar, and, finally, extra plates for the dessert.

  All of these would have ordinarily been handled by old Ela, who, it was whispered, had been old when Big Jim hired her to cook and clean for him and his infant son more than fifty years ago. No one was sure of her age, but she was still going strong. She was barely five feet tall and nearly as round. Her constant attire was a shapeless native dress of doeskin and, over that, a crisp white apron. Her gray hair was braided and pinned up like a crown around a face so deeply lined it resembled aged parchment.

  “Where’s your mind today, woman?” Big Jim studied her as Phoebe was forced to retrieve yet another forgotten part of their meal, Cole’s favorite tall glass of foaming milk with his dessert.

  Ela pretended not to hear while Phoebe’s cheeks turned pink. “We’re both just a little distracted. But we’re so glad to see our patient home where he belongs.”

  “Amen to that.” Cole studied the stingy slice of pie she passed him. “What’s this?”

  “The dietitian’s list warned about excess sugar.”

  Cole’s lips thinned. But before he could explode, Jake intervened. “Remember, Pa, the doctor also said that you have to be your own advocate. Don’t put this on Phoebe’s shoulders, or on Ela’s. You know what’s good for you, and it’s up to you to do the right thing.”

  Cole glowered at his youngest. “I don’t need you to tell me—”

  “That’s right. You don’t.” Jake turned to Phoebe. “Just so you know, it’s not your responsibility to be Pa’s nursemaid. He doesn’t need to be coddled right now. What he needs is to step up to his responsibilities and do the right thing.”

  Phoebe couldn’t hide the impish grin that tugged at the corners of her lips. “Thanks, Dr. Jake. I’ll keep that in mind.”

  Quinn and Josh shared a smile before Quinn decided to change the subject. It was obvious that their father was getting close to his boiling point.

  Quinn turned to his grandfather. “Josh tells me one of the herds is snowbound up in the hills.”

  Big Jim nodded. “They may be there until spring thaw. I’ll be heading back up there at first light with a truck full of feed.”

  Quinn glanced out the window, where snow fell like a thick, hazy curtain. “That’s a mountain of feed to disperse. Do you have wranglers to lend a hand?”

  “I do, boyo.” Big Jim smiled. “And don’t think about volunteering. You look like you need about a week of sleep to catch up.”

  Quinn touched a hand to his freshly shaved face. “At least I don’t look like a grizzly.”

  “Or smell like one,” Jake added.

  Around the table, everyone joined in the laughter.

  Cole looked over at his oldest son. “You thinking about leaving again soon?”

  Quinn shot a glance at his brothers. The three of them had come up with a strategy of sorts. They would try to see that one of them was always around to handle the toughest chores without letting their father know what they were doing. If he had even a hint of what they were planning, he’d have their hides.

  “Not for a few weeks.”

  Cole fixed his middle son with a look. “What about you, Josh?”

  Josh shrugged. “My job is done for now. I found the lost hiker I was searching for, and the rangers have assured me he’s doing fine in the hospital. So I have plenty of time to lend a hand.”

  Cole visibly relaxed. “Good.” He swiveled his head. “What about you, Jacob? Got time for your old man? Or are you heading out, too?”

  The use of his full name was a signal to his family that Cole was battling his emotions. One look at his face told him that they’d guessed correctly that Cole was craving sympathy and attention from his long-absent family.

  “We’ll be in finals all next week. But I have my laptop and can study everything I need right here. I won’t have to fly out until the weekend.”

  Now Cole smiled broadly, and the last of his tension seemed to melt away. “That’s good news.” He looked down the table. “Right, Big Jim?”

  The older man nodded. “Great news, boyo.” He tucked into his dessert, which Ela had topped off with a mound of vanilla ice cream.

  Seeing it, Cole’s eyes narrowed for a moment. Then, seeing his family watching him, he pushed aside his own dessert and drained his glass of milk.

  He’d be damned if he’d whine about having to give up desserts. For now, for tonight, he had his family around him. That was sweet enough for him.

  “What do you think?” Josh settled himself into a chair pulled close to the fireplace in the great room, where a roaring fire blazed.

  Quinn shrugged. “His color’s good. He seems tired, but that’s to be expected, I’d say.”

  Both men turned toward Jake, who walked in carrying a tray of longnecks.

  After passing them around, he set aside the tray and took a long pull on his drink before dropping down on one of the hearth cushions.

  Having overheard them, Jake picked up on the thread of their conversation. “I think this heart attack has rocked Pa’s world. He never saw it coming.”

  “Neither did I.” Quinn leaned a hip against the arm of a sofa. “He’s the strongest man I know.”

  “Next to Big Jim,” Josh put in.

  “Yeah.” The two shared a look.

  Jake looked over at his brothers. “This doesn’t have anything to do with strength, physical or mental. This is about stress to the heart. And we all know Pa’s had enough of that in his life. I see a sadness in Pa that I haven’t seen in years. Not since…”

  His words trailed off, as they alway
s did when he started thinking about their mother. After a lifetime, it was second nature to avoid all mention of Seraphine. Even now, after all these years, the loss was still a source of real anguish to Cole Conway. A lingering wound that continued to fester and drain the joy from his life.

  Jake cleared his throat. “Maybe Pa’s sadness is just a natural side effect of his heart trauma. Or maybe he just wants some attention, and sees this as a way to get it. Whatever the cause, I’ve decided to put off leaving as long as I can.”

  “You said you’re in finals. You plan on just dropping out and forgetting about graduating?”

  At Josh’s question Jake shook his head. “I did give it some thought. But I’ve worked too hard, studied too long, to quit now. I’ll fly back and turn in my last papers and take whatever exams and complete any procedures that are necessary. And then I’m heading home for good.”

  Quinn drained his beer and idly tapped the empty bottle against his thigh while he digested his youngest brother’s words. “I plan on staying put for now. I can’t think about leaving Pa when he looks so…”—he struggled for words—“… so crushed. But sooner or later I’ll have to go. This weather won’t wait. If I don’t get back to that pack soon, they’ll be lost to me until summer and, with them, years of work down the drain.”

  Josh stood and slapped his brother on the back. “You don’t need to explain to us. I know Pa understands.”

  “I hope so.” Quinn turned back to Jake. “I’m glad you’re hanging around for a couple of days more. That ought to take some of the sting out of my departure whenever I decide to go.”

  The two brothers shared a backslap, the closest thing they’d ever had to a hug between them.

  As they stepped apart Jake couldn’t help laughing aloud. “You realize, of course, that staying a few more days will make me Pa’s favorite.”

  “Wow. What a concept,” Josh deadpanned. “The baby of the family a favorite.”

  His two brothers broke into gales of laughter while Jake shot them each a smug look.