Now.
Dillon snorted, coming bolt upright and blinking at him. Then Dillon crawled out of bed and started pulling out clothes for them, never missing a beat.
“It’s bad, Gramps. Real bad. Mom’s in surgery, Dallas won’t wake up.” AJ’s voice rose with every word.
“Austin James, you listen to me, right now. Your people need you. Your woman needs you. Help will be there in a bit, don’t you worry.”
Every so often he had to snarl and snap, to get a cowboy’s attention.
He could hear AJ take a deep breath. “I’m trying, Coke. I am.”
“Good man. Breathe. I’m on the way, okay? Kiss Missy for me.”
He hung up, then grabbed his jeans, dialing Tag.
Dillon handed him a shirt. “What happened?”
“Bad wreck. Bad, cowboy. We have to—” Tag answered then. “Adam. Coke. The Gardners need y’all. Now. You call Balta, Ace. I’ll get bullfighters moving.”
Adam grunted. “Coke? Yeah, yeah, okay. AJ okay?”
“Missy’s in the hospital. Denny, Dallas, Jack, and Linda were in the car, ’long with AJ’s oldest girl. Miss Linda’s real bad, apparently.” He tugged on his boots. “Me and Dillon will be there in nine hours. Y’all can make it in less than two.”
“We’re on our way. Bri is off traveling, but Chrissy and I are out the door. We’ll call when we get there.” Adam was a good’un, and could be there before him.
“Okay, man. Thanks.” He grabbed his gear, nodded to Dillon. “You okay to drive or do you want to make calls?”
“I can drive, babe.” Dillon was gathering up the pups, putting harnesses and leashes on their floppy, sleepy bodies.
“Good deal.” He dialed Nattie next.
“What’s up, Hoss?”
Coke rattled off information, getting a promise of help and someone to call the others that were close enough.
His phone started beeping, Hank calling him.
Lord have mercy.
By the time they got checked out and got everyone in the truck, the phone had rung three more times. There was a flotilla of help on the way, closer than him, including a pack of Brazilians.
He slid into the truck, turned on his vibrating back support. “Man, I was hoping for a good night’s sleep.”
“Yeah.” Dillon glanced over before backing out. “You can sleep on the way, huh?”
“We’ll see. Aje is falling apart. Adam will be there first, then Balta.”
“They’ll hold him together, babe.” Dillon hit the highway, proving that he could make some time.
“They will.” He closed his eyes and started praying that God watched over all those cowboys.
Hell, he hoped God watched over them a little, too.
Chapter Twenty-One
Dillon didn’t want to wake Coke, but, man, he needed a break. Coke was gonna kill him—he’d been driving for nine hours on no sleep. Hell, Coke hadn’t even cracked an eye the one time Dillon had stopped to let the pups pee.
He knew Coke would have to be the alert one when they got to AJ’s. And they were out of the snow for sure. So Dillon hit the turn signal and pulled off at the next exit, coasting into the rest stop.
