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Her voice is too calm, and her nursing hands aren’t nearly as strong as they once were as she pushes down on my dad’s chest, his lifeless body not responding. I pull my phone out of my purse, dial 911, and walk out of the room, still in shock.
After telling them everything, I rush back to the bedroom, and everything slows. My mom takes control of the situation, instructing me to check for a pulse and breathing. She works on my dad until she’s too tired, and her hands cramp.
Then she looks up at me, bewildered. “I don’t think… I got to him too late. He went up for a nap after breakfast, said he wasn’t feeling well, and I came to check on him.”
Sirens ring through the open windows, and I leave my mom to meet the paramedics. The ambulance pulls down our dirt road, and I sit on the porch steps, leaning my head on the railing. They park behind my car, and I stand, walking down the steps as they round the back, coming into view with a stretcher.
One paramedic, Teri, a girl I went to school with, sees the expression on my face, and I shake my head. It’s too late, he’s gone, but I can’t form the words. They leave the stretcher at the bottom of the porch steps.
“Second bedroom on your left,” I say.
Teri and her partner head in the direction I point, and the porch steps creak as I fall back down to sit.
“Sadie!”
Jude’s voice draws my attention, and I look around, finding him riding Titan my way. Once he’s close, he slows Titan, swings one leg over the horse, and drops onto the ground. I run into his arms, and he swallows me up in his big body.
“I saw the ambulance pass the house. Is your mom okay?”
I shake my head against his chest. “It’s Dad. He’s dead.”
His arms grip tighter, and I welcome the safety that only he can provide me.
Chapter Three
Jude
The ambulance pulls down the drive without the lights flashing, and Sadie’s dad’s body is in the back. My dad came over as soon as I texted. He’s inside with Sadie’s mom while I hold Sadie to my side.
“I’m so sorry,” I say.
She slides away from me and walks to the edge of the porch where the best view of their farmland is. “What am I going to do?”
I stand at her side. Their farm isn’t producing as it should. It’s had years of neglect I’m not sure can be reversed. But they got something going this year. Not their entire property, but part. “I’ll help. My dad will. Everyone will pitch in and get it going.”
She sighs and leans her head on the post of the railing, wrapping her arm around it. “Even if we get it going, Jude, I can’t keep it running. I’d have to hire a bunch of workers, and I have no clue if we can afford that.”
I have my theories as to why her dad was so close to his vest about the farm going under. Sadie’s a fixer. She’s a “tell me the problem, and I’ll map my way through it” girl. Which is an admirable quality—hell, it’s what’s going to get her through what she’s dealing with now. But I’m sure Monty Wilkins didn’t want his daughter feeling the pressure of keeping a farm in the black.
She came to me crying once because her dad told her the farm was her husband’s. That whoever she married, he’d sign it over to him and not her. He was incredibly old-school. And look where his close-mindedness got him—a wife and daughter left unprepared to fill his shoes.
“You could sell?” I say, knowing she’s not going to like that suggestion.
“Absolutely not. This is my family’s land, my ancestors’ land. I know it’s small, but it’s ours. My dad would hate the idea of that.”
I cross my arms and widen my stance. I get her point. Plain Daisy Ranch was Noughton Farm before my mom died, and my dad changed the name to honor my mom, Daisy. But some people still refer to it as Noughton Farm because it’s our family land and that means something around here.
“Then we’ll figure it out. I’ll help.”
I have no idea how I’ll do it all, but for Sadie, I’ll figure it out. She deserves a life filled with so much more than she has. She should’ve been like Ben and gotten out of here after high school, gone off to live her dreams, but she took on the responsibility of her mom’s health so her dad could continue to run the farm. She’s filled her time with trying to prove to her dad that she can manage the farm. Doing their website, artwork that he never wanted, suggestions on how to build a brand for their name. But he stood in her way, one suggestion after the other.
“How are you going to do that, Jude? You have your own ranch to look after.” Her eyes haven’t left the acreage in front of us. The field has to be harvested soon, which means there isn’t any time for us to come up with a plan.
I weave my arm around her waist. “I’ll make time.”
I don’t want to mention what my dad heard last night. It will only embarrass Sadie that the town knows about her dad’s debts.
“Jude,” my dad calls from inside the screen door.
