The sound of that growl had Mathew’s shoulders hunching up to his ears. They’d only just pulled the ATV to a stop, but he hadn’t noticed his father. That was the mistake. Not being aware of their surroundings.
His father looked absolutely livid. His face was flushed, sweat shining along his hairline, and his hands were clenched tightly at his sides as he stalked toward them.
“What do you think you’re doing?” his father demanded. “Do you have any idea the trouble you could have caused if you damaged that piece of equipment? Your uncle can’t afford?—”
“It’s my fault.” River immediately jumped down from the ATV. “I goaded him on.”
His father scowled at her for a moment, not appearing to recognize her. Then his expression shifted—subtly at first, like his focus had snagged on something far away. The color began draining from his face, and Mathew’s stomach tightened.
His dad blinked a few times, too slow, too deliberate. He pressed his fist to his chest, then dragged in a breath that didn’t seem to go all the way down. A sheen of sweat broke out along his temple, the kind that had nothing to do with heat.
“This might be your uncle’s farm,” his father said, voice rougher than it should’ve been, “but this is still a place of business.” He shuffled a step, as if steadying himself, and blinked again.
“Dad?” Mathew moved in fast. “You okay? Are you having chest pain?”
“Son, what are you going on about?”
Mathew cut a look to a concerned River. “Call an ambulance.”
“What?” His father practically hollered. “I’m fine. It’s just indigestion.”
“Dad,” Mathew said, keeping his voice calm even as his pulse spiked, “it’s going to be okay. You’re going to be okay.”
His father opened his mouth like he had another argument locked and loaded, but instead he sucked in a shallow breath and pressed his fist harder to his chest. His knees flexed, just slightly—like his body had forgotten how to hold him up.
Mathew lunged forward, catching him by the elbow.
“River,” he snapped, “now.”
8
RIVER
River jumped up from the chair in the waiting room. She’d followed the ambulance in her car so she could bring Mathew back if she needed to. It had been a split-second decision, and she had no idea what had prompted her to do so. Maybe God had a reason for her being at the hospital.
There were two others in the waiting room who shot out of their seats when the doors opened. She’d met them only one time before. They were Mathew’s siblings. She wasn’t sure if they remembered her, so she continued to sit in her corner. It was only when Mathew came through those doors, completely disheveled, that they seemed to notice her presence at all. And perhaps that was more due to the fact that she’d risen to her feet at the same time they had.
The trio grouped together, and a pang of longing hit her hard in the chest. She’d never had anything like that. No one to counton. No one who she knew would be there for her if her world went dark.
She wasn’t close enough to hear the muffled words, but by the way Mathew’s sister started to cry, it became painfully obvious. Mathew had lost his father tonight.
He’d slumped back almost immediately oncethey were on the road, eyes closing as if his body had finally remembered it needed to recharge. It was only a fifteen minute drive back to Taylor Farm, but it was long enough for his breathing to slow—long enough for the grief to catch up and knock him flat.
River snuck a look at Mathew. He looked too big for her small pickup. Her truck didn’t resemble a clown car by any means, but with Mathew Klein in the passenger seat, it felt like one.
His sister had insisted that they shouldn’t be alone, and honestly, River agreed. She didn’t think it was good for anyone to grieve a loss like this on their own, even if she didn’t have anyone in her life who filled a similar role.
Her stomach twisted as she considered what to do next. It was late. Mathew had refused to go to his sister’s place with his brother. He’d wanted to get his car. But even she could see he wouldn’t be in any shape to drive.
They pulled into the long gravel driveway and she parked her car close to her stairway. She lifted a hesitant hand to touch him, nudge him maybe. If the roles were reversed, she had no doubt he’d carry her into the apartment. Before she could touch him, he startled awake, which in turn had her startling.
Mathew looked around bleary-eyed, then fumbled for the door.
“You shouldn’t be driving,” she blurted out before he could exit. When he glanced over at her, she had to force herself to maintain that stare. “It’s not much, but you could stay up in my place. Just for the night.”
“I really shouldn’t.” His voice was gruff, hoarse. Probably from the words he’d forced himself to say.
“Then I could get Emerson to follow me, and I can take you home in your car.”
