“I’m going outside,” I announce as I head out of the living room.
The helicopter is white with the red medical symbol on the body. It looms large in the sky, getting bigger and bigger as it drops lower and lower.
Dakota leans against her car, her long hair whipping around and her hand tented above her eyes, watching the chopper land. Our eyes meet, and I have the sudden urge to rush to her, to pull her body against mine and hold her close. To let her hold me. I’m much more scared than I’m letting on.
The bird sets down, and two flight paramedics hop out. One carries an aid bag, and they both turn back around to haul out a stretcher. We all start into a jog, and I meet them halfway.
I speak first. “Male, sixty-seven, possible myocardial infarction. Awake and responsive.” Pertinent information, no greeting. I spent enough time around medics to know the basics. One of them glances at me briefly, surprised, but all she says is, “Where is he?”
I lead them to my dad, then grab my mom’s hand and pull her back so the paramedics can do their job. One takes his pulse while the other starts oxygen. They position the stretcher, then ask me and Wyatt for help to get him on. We follow their directions, lifting carefully, and Dad doesn’t even fight the help, which tells me he’s in more pain than he’s admitting. The four of us position ourselves at each corner and carry him out front. We pause when we’ve cleared the steps, and one paramedic releases the wheels. She and her partner take over then, rolling my dad forward in a hurry and yelling back to us, “He’s headed to Sedona General.”
“Go tell Mom,” I instruct Wyatt. He runs inside. I watch the bird lift into the sky, clear the tree line, and turn. Before long, it’s out of sight.
Dakota stands beside her car, in the same exact spot, as if she’s glued down. When our eyes meet, she pushes off and comes to me.
“Is there anything I can do, Wes?”
That feeling I had before, where I wanted to hold her and be held by her? I give in to it now. Her surprised gasp fills the air as I pull her in. Her body is tense for a second and then she melts. Her arms wrap around my back and she hugs me tightly.
It’s not until this moment that I remember Dakota has been through this. She has felt this fear. She understands. She doesn’t tell me it will be okay, because she knows it might not be.
“Wes?” My mom’s voice comes from the front door. Dakota and I break apart and I look at my mom. She’s standing with a small bag looped over one shoulder, and her purse in her other hand. “Will you drive me to Sedona?”
I can’t remember a time when my mom has asked me to drive her anywhere. It’s general knowledge on the ranch that if you’re driving with my mom, you’re the passenger.
“Of course, Mom.” I dig into the front pocket of my jeans and come away with my keys. “Let’s go.”
Dakota backs away to her car. “Keep me updated?” she asks, pausing in the open door. I nod at her. She drives off, taillights shining.
Mom climbs in the front of my truck, Warner, Wyatt, and Jessie in the back. Gramps is staying behind with Warner’s kids.
It’s an hour drive from here to the hospital, and we’re quiet the entire way.
If I had to guess, I’d say every one of us is busy having a conversation with God.
16
Dakota
I’ve checkedmy phone no fewer than two dozen times since I woke up this morning. I haven’t heard from Wes. I’ve been reminding myself that no news is good news, but the prolonged silence makes me nervous.
I made it to the jobsite first. Scott, the general contractor I hired, pulled in ten minutes after me. We went over the projected timeline and drank our store-bought, extra-large coffees.
Thanks to the mostly flat landscape, the site preparation should be relatively easy. It has allowed us to rely on a skid steer to prepare the site and avoid using an excavator.
The skid steer operator was late but Scott advised me not to say anything because not everyone can operate the machine and since we’d only need him for this narrow window on a month-long job, it was best not to look at my watch anymore.
So instead of looking at my watch, I checked my phone for news on Beau. Of course, looking at the phone also informed me of the time, but I ignored it. The operator eventually arrived. He’s been working for a few hours, and making progress. So much of the land is already clear of desert debris.
A few hours later, I’m talking with Scott when my phone rings. I hold up a finger, telling him to hang on a moment, and answer. It’s an unknown number, but I’m hoping it’s Wes. He could be calling from the hospital or someone else’s phone.
“Hello?” I answer with restless anticipation.
“May I please speak with Dakota Wright?”
The air whooshes out of me. Avoiding Scott’s gaze, I reply, “You are.”
“This is a representative from a collection agency. I’m calling on behalf of City Urgent Care. Multiple attempts to collect a debt have failed, and—”
