“Slow down, slow down.” Buddy stood from the couch and within the span of five long strides, had his jacket on, keys in his palm, and his grip on the door handle. “I will be right there. Tell everyone to stay calm.”
Rachel jogged up to him. Even Scout scurried over.
“My dad fell while shoveling out the driveway. Thinks he might’ve broken his foot. At the very least, sprained his ankle. They’re at Urgent Care now.” A touch of ruddiness came back to his ashen pallor as he rallied his breathing into a consistent rhythm. “I should probably go be with them.”
“Yes. Of course,” Rachel agreed. “Go.”
“I’m so sorry.” His pained gaze lingered on hers. “I hate to rush out like this.”
“Family always comes first.”
He nodded his head slightly, then drew her into a swift hug. “Thank you for understanding.”
“Absolutely.”
Rachel understood family emergencies more than he would ever know. That decade’s old feeling of utter desperation washed over her, memories of her sister’s accident crashing into the forefront of her mind. Her stomach roiled, and she tamped her emotion down with a forced smile. “Let me grab my keys and I’ll follow you out.”
He gave her another helpless look. “Can we get a rain check on our evening?”
“I’m holding you to it,” she said, also holding onto a hope she hadn’t let herself feel in more years than she could count.
CHAPTER14
“If he rings that bell one more time…”
Jill Hart typically had the patience of a saint, but even saints had their limits, Holden figured.
“Yes, dear?” His mother came up behind the couch and looked over the edge at her invalid husband—all sprawled out and bandaged up—with sympathetic, kind eyes. “What can I get you now?”
“This jingle was actually meant for Holden,” Zeke clarified. “Maybe I should have an entire set of bells, each with a distinct sound. One for you. One for Holden. One for Sarah.”
“Let’s not get carried away.” Jill walked back to the kitchen, passing her son on her way. She tagged him on the shoulder. “He’s all yours.”
As requested, Holden moved across the room toward his father, taking up position on the arm of the couch. “What can I do for you, Dad?”
Holden had stayed the night after the emergency visit. His dad had been right; his foot was, in fact, broken. In two places, to be precise. Luckily, Zeke had retired as a fire captain years earlier, so the unexpected injury didn’t throw a monkey wrench into his work plans. But it did seem to hinder his tree tending, and Holden had a hunch that was the cause for the most recent bell ringing.
“It’s Sir Noble Fir.” His father heaved an overelaborate breath.
“I figured as much.”
“There is no way your mother is going to let me out there to take care of him. Not like this.”
“And she shouldn’t.” Holden drew out his words and the point. “You need to keep off of that foot and let it heal. Plus, didn’t you say the tree already exceeds the height requirement?”
“It does,” his father affirmed. “But it’s not our tree I need your help with.”
“I’m not following, Dad.”
Zeke Hart’s train of thought had more twists and turns than a snowboarder on a halfpipe.
“I need you for a covert operation.”
“Why does this sound illegal?”
“It’s not illegal, son. Just maybe slightly unethical.”
Holden lifted his hands. “I’m out.”
