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Richard coughs, the noise startling all of us.
“Dad?” Nora says, her voice high. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine, Nora,” he says. “Just feeling a little under the weather.”
Rhett steps forward. “Rich, did you inhale any of that smoke earlier?”
“No, that was mostly Clint here,” he says, waving at me.
I look down. I don’t like to be the center of attention, so all the eyes on me make me feel… uncomfortable.
Richard coughs again, and this time, it sounds bad. Wet and thick, like he’s catching something.
Nora’s eyes dart to Rhett. “Dad, what if Mr. Grayson took you to the hospital tonight?”
“Don’t need that, Nora.”
“Can I talk to you in the other room?” She rises and walks to the kitchen. Her dad follows, somewhat meekly.
None of us move, but I catch flashes of their argument. The words ‘treatment’ and ‘immune system’ are thrown around a couple of times.
I put the pieces together. Judging from this conversation, the sickness that Mr. Foster had was some kind of cancer. Recovering from that is challenging, and even if he’s in remission, that shit can wreck you in a thousand different ways.
They come out of the kitchen.
“Dad has agreed to go to the hospital tonight,” Nora announces to the room.
“On the condition that Nora stays here, and I’m hopeful that my neighbors will, too,” Richard rumbles.
We blink at him.
“Sir?” Landon says.
“Ain’t no need for Nora to sit and wait for me in the hospital. Likely I’ll be there all night, and she needs a good rest,” Richard says stiffly. “So I’d like for her to stay here, but I don’t want her to stay alone.”
I exchange glances with Shane and Landon. “We’ll stay here and watch out for her.”
“The arsonist might come back, too,” warns Rhett. “Sick son-of-a-bitch might be interested to see what happens if he does.”
“Let him,” I growl. I’m fully prepared to take advantage of Montana’s lenient property protection laws, if that’s the case.
Richard studies us, then nods. “It’s done.”
He stands, and I shake his hand. “We’ll guard her with our lives, sir.”
It’s absolutely the truth.
Rhett gives us each one last nod before heading out.
I turn to Nora. She looks… bad. Pale. Shocked. She crumples on the couch, her eyes trained on the lighter on the table.
Landon sits next to her, pulling her in. She leans her head on his shoulder, and the sight makes something in me bristle. I want to be the one helping her. Not him.
“Are you worried about your dad?” Landon murmurs.
Nora shakes her head. “No. Yes, but not really,” she whispers.
“What’s wrong?” Shane rumbles.
