A Certain Hope

“I guess I walk mine off, too.” April shrugged, thinking how different life on the ranch was from the fast pace of New York. Here, she could walk for miles and miles and never see another living soul, whereas New York was always full of people in a hurry to get somewhere. Wanting to bring back some of the good memories she had of growing up here, she said, “Maybe I’ll make some of that jalapeño bread. Remember how Daddy used to love it?”

“Sí,” Flora said, nodding. “He can’t eat it now, though, querida.”

“Of course not,” April said, her mood shifting as reality hit her with the same force as the sunbeam streaming through the arched windows. “I’m going to talk to the nurse to see what he can eat.”

Flora nodded, her brown eyes turning misty with worry. “He is a very sick man. I keep him in my prayers.”

“I appreciate that,” April said. “I guess our only prayer now is that God brings him some sort of peace, even if that means we have to let him go.”

“You are a very wise young woman.”

“Mother taught me to trust in God in all things. I’m trying to remember that now more than ever.”

“Your madre, she loved the Lord.”

“Yes, she did,” April said. Then she turned back to the hallway, wishing that she had the same strong faith her mother had possessed. And wishing her father hadn’t ruined his health by drinking and smoking.

As she entered his room, she heard him fussing with the nurse. “I don’t…need that. What I need…is a drink.” Stuart’s eyes closed as he fell back down on the pillow and seemed to go to sleep again.

The nurse, a sturdy woman with clipped gray hair named Lynette Proctor, clicked her tongue and turned to stare at April. “Man can barely speak, and he still wants a drink.” She gave April a sympathetic look. “His liver is shot, honey. Whatever you do, don’t give him any alcohol.”

“I don’t plan on it,” April retorted, the woman’s blunt words causing a burning anger to move through April’s system. “And I’d like to remind you that this man is my father. You will show him respect, no matter how much you agree or disagree with his drinking problem.”

Lynette finished administering Stuart’s medication, checked his IV, then turned with her hands on her hips to face April. “I apologize, sugar. My husband was an alcoholic, too, so I’ve seen the worst of this disease. That’s one reason I became a nurse and a sitter. I feel for your daddy there, but I just wish…well, I wish there was something to be done, is all.”

“We can agree on that,” April said, her defensive stance softening. Then she came to stand over the bed. In the light of day, her father looked even more pale and sickly. “This isn’t the man I remember. My daddy was so big and strong. I thought he could protect me from anything.”

“Now it’s your turn to protect him, I reckon,” Lynette said. “Do you still want to go over his schedule?”

“Yes,” April said. “Show me everything. I’m going to be here for the duration.” She stopped, willing herself to keep it together. “However long that might be.”

Lynette touched a hand to her arm. “Not as long as you might think, honey. This man ain’t got much more time on this earth. And I’m sorry for your pain.”

“Thank you,” April said, wondering how many times she’d have to hear that from well-meaning people over the course of the next weeks. How much can I bear, Lord?

Then she remembered her mother’s words to her long ago. The Lord never gives us more than we can bear, April. Trust in Him and you will get through any situation, no matter the outcome.

No matter the outcome. The outcome here wasn’t going to be happy or pretty. Her father was dying. How could she bear to go through that kind of pain yet again?

She turned as footsteps echoed down the hallway, and saw the silhouette of a tall man coming toward her.

Reed.

He’d said he’d be around for the duration, too.

April let out a breath of relief, glad that he was here. She needed him. Her father needed him. Maybe Reed’s quiet, determined strength would help her to stay strong.

No matter the outcome.

Reed listened as the very capable Lynette told them both what to expect over the next few weeks. It would get worse, she assured them. He might go quietly in his sleep, or he might suffer a heart attack or stroke. All they could do was keep him comfortable and out of pain.

With each word, told in such clinical detail, Reed could see April’s face growing paler and more distressed. He had to get her away from this sickroom for a while, because he knew there could be many more days such as this, where she could only sit and watch her father slipping away.

When Lynette was finished, Reed motioned to April. “He’s resting now. Good time to take that ride.”

At the concern in her dark eyes, he whispered, “I won’t keep you out long. And Lynette can radio us—I have a set of walkie-talkies I bought for that very reason.”

“I’ll take my cell phone,” April replied, watching her father closely. Then she turned to Lynette and gave her the number. “Call me if there is any change, good or bad.”

“Okay,” Lynette said. “He’ll sleep most of the afternoon. He usually gets restless around sundown.”

“We’ll be back long before then,” Reed said, more to reassure April then to report to the nurse.

Seeming satisfied, April kissed her father on the forehead and turned to leave the room. Once they were outside in the hallway, she looked over at Reed. “I don’t think I should leave him.”

He understood her fears, but he also understood she needed some fresh air. “A short ride will do you good. It’ll settle your nerves.”

“Just along the river, then.”

“Whatever you say. You’re the boss.”

April shot him a harsh look. “Don’t say that. I’m not ready to be the boss.”

“Well, that’s something we need to discuss,” Reed replied. “A lot of people depend on this land for their livelihoods.” He hesitated, looking down at the floor. “And…well, Stu let some things slip.”

“What do you mean, let some things slip?”

“Fences need mending. We’re got calves to work and brand. Half our hands have left because Stu would forget to pay ’em. Either that, or he’d lose his temper and fire ’em on the spot.”

April closed her eyes, as if she was trying to imagine her father roaring at the help. Stuart had a temper, but he’d always handled his employees with respect and decency. When he was sober, at least.

“You keep saying ‘our’as if you still work here.”

Reed placed his hands on his hips, then raised his eyes to meet hers. “I’ve been helping out some in my spare time.”

Groaning, she ran a hand through her bangs. “Reed, you have almost as much land now as we do. Are you telling me you’ve been working your ranch and this one, too? That’s close to fifteen hundred acres.”

“Yeah, pretty much. But hey, I don’t really have anything better to do. Daddy helps, too. And you know Stu’s got friends all over East Texas. Your uncles come around as often as they can, to check on things and help out. Well, Richard does—not so much James. But they have their own obligations. We’ve all tried to hold things together for him, April.”

She let out a shuddering breath. “I’m just not ready for all of this.”

“All the more reason to take things one day at a time and get yourself readjusted.”

“There’s no way to adjust to losing both your parents,” she said. Then she hurried up the hallway ahead of him, the scent of her floral perfume lingering to remind him that she was back home, good or bad.

Reed watched as April handled the gentle roan mare with an expert hand. “I see you haven’t lost your touch.”

April gave him a tight smile. “Well, since you told Tomás to bring me the most gentle horse in the stable, I’d say I’m doing okay.”