CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Later that night, Brett drove into the parking lot of Bozeman Deaconess Hospital. Over the last few hours, Ida’s health had deteriorated. At eleven o’clock, her doctor had called Pat, asking him to come into town. They’d left the ranch right away, leaving Hannah and Claire with Dave.
If Brett could have driven everyone into Bozeman, he would have. But staying at the ranch was safer than being at the hospital. The police were no closer to finding the men who had beaten Dave or finding the man who’d been on the ranch. If someone was following Dave, they didn’t want Ida getting involved in what was happening. She had enough to deal with at the moment.
As soon as the truck stopped, Pat opened the passenger door and stepped out of the truck.
Brett unbuckled his seatbelt. “Wait for me. The ground will be slippery.”
“I’ll be fine.”
Brett grabbed Pat’s overnight bag and rushed toward him. His foot slipped, the bag flew out of his hands, and Brett’s arms cartwheeled madly in the air. With a bone-crunching thud, he landed butt first on the icy ground.
Pat stopped for long enough to help him to his feet. “Ida won’t be impressed if you’re wheeled into her room covered head-to-foot in plaster.” He picked up his bag and held onto Brett’s elbow. “Let’s go. I’ll make sure you don’t fall again.”
“Very funny.” He should have dropped Pat at the entrance to the hospital. Navigating across the frozen parking lot was like ice-skating for the first time in Bogert Park. He’d landed on the ground that time, too. Only it hadn’t been Pat who’d helped him to his feet, it was Mary-Beth.
Brett was surprised to see two other people walking toward the hospital. The women were moving through the vehicles, their heads bowed against the bitter wind. He wondered if they had been called unexpectedly to sit beside a family member or if they were staff who were working tonight.
Snow began to fall, swirling around them like glittering confetti. It felt surreal, as if the whole world was holding its breath, waiting for the next step in a story that might not end well.
As soon as they were through the front doors, Pat headed toward the elevators.
Brett checked his phone before turning it to vibrate mode. Hannah hadn’t called him or left a message, so he assumed everything was all right.
As the elevator traveled to the first floor, he kept his gaze on Pat. The man who never seemed to age suddenly looked like a seventy-five-year-old man. His skin was pale and drawn and he walked with a slight stoop. It was almost as if the weight of Ida’s health problems was too much to bear. With a sinking heart, Brett realized Pat was more fragile than he’d ever seen him.
“How are you feeling?” Brett asked.
“I’ve had better days.”
“Let me know if you need to sit down. You’re too pale.”
Pat’s tired eyes crinkled at the corners. “You’re always looking after me. Even when I can’t drive into Bozeman to see Ida, you always offer to take me. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
Brett swallowed the knot of emotion in his throat. “You and Ida are my family. I love you.”
Pat gripped Brett’s hand. “I love you, too.”
As the elevator doors opened, memories of the last time they were here flooded Brett’s mind. Ida had been incredibly sick with pneumonia that time, too. She’d been on an intubator, struggling to stay alive. He hoped she was okay, but they wouldn’t have been called into the hospital if she was responding to her medication.
The tang of heavy-duty antiseptic followed them down the corridor. Brett looked at the bright, fluorescent lights and wondered if he was the only person who craved sunlight in this ward.
He touched Pat’s arm before opening the main doors to the Intensive Care Unit. “Do you want me to wait outside while you talk to the doctor?”
“No. Stay with me.”
“Okay.” Brett washed his hands then followed Pat toward the nurses’ station.
“Can I help you?” a doctor asked as they crossed the room.
Pat looked at the doctor’s name badge. “I’m Pat McConachie and this is Brett Forster. My wife, Ida, is one of your patients.”
The doctor held out his hand. “Geoff Partridge. I appreciate you being here. I imagine you both have a lot of questions.”
“How is Ida?” Pat asked.
Geoff motioned toward a family meeting room. “How about we talk in here?”
