Chapter Nine

NOAH’S HEAD WAS STILL spinning from kissing Willow when Gage Throckmorton dropped by the Hideaway to discuss replacing the fence that separated their properties. Noah jumped at the chance for some physical labor and declared himself ready to work the following morning.

Gage was skeptical. He intended to have a couple of his ranch hands do the job. But Noah’s leg was back to 80 or maybe even 85 percent, and he thought that fence building would be as good physical therapy as what his PT guy had him doing. He insisted that he do half the labor and pay half the expenses.

He was shocked as hell when the boss man himself showed up Friday morning with a UTV loaded with supplies.

The first day he and Gage worked together, they hadn’t done much talking beyond what was necessary for the job. By the end of the second day, Noah called the man friend.

Gage somehow got Noah to open up. In the beginning, their conversation revolved around typical stuff—sports, favorite brews and whiskeys, and barbecue methods. Then almost without Noah’s notice, the sly older man began slipping in questions. Before he realized it, Noah had revealed how he’d injured his leg.

“A firefighter, huh?” Gage had said. “I have a lot of respect for you guys. Takes big balls to go into a burning building.”

“Former firefighter,” Noah shot back. “I’m not going back.”

“Physical disability?”

Noah wouldn’t lie about that. Nor was he inclined to offer an explanation. He said simply, “I’m ready for a change.”

Gage let a long moment pass before he shrugged and changed the subject to barbed wire.

Noah was happy to discuss fencing. He didn’t owe the rancher any details about his injury or the events surrounding it. Yet he chewed on the exchange for the rest of the afternoon, and when he finally swallowed it, it sat in his stomach like sour milk. So when they finished working for the night and Gage dropped him off at home, Noah found himself spewing his guts. “I’m dealing with some PTSD. Had a fire get tricky on us. Lost some folks.”

“Damn. That’s rough.” Gage clapped him on the shoulder. “Like I said before, I have nothing but respect for firefighters. So, you up for another day mending a fence?”

“I reckon so.”

“Tomorrow is Sunday. The only work I want to do is haul supplies. Bring your fishing gear. We’ll be near my favorite fishing spot on the Triple T. Since we’re not drawing wages for our work, I figure we’ve earned a day on the creek, don’t you?”

“I won’t argue against it.” Noah grabbed his work bag from the back of the UTV, then posed the same question he’d asked of Gage at the end of the past two days. “Hey, Throckmorton. Don’t you need a puppy?”

“No, Tannehill. I damned sure don’t.”

As was his habit, Noah headed first to his workshop to tend to Marigold and the pups. After that task, he went inside, showered, and threw together something for dinner. He was hungry. This physical work had given him a better appetite than he’d had in months.

He decided to drag out the Crock-Pot and make something more substantial for his evening meals from here on out.

Sunday morning, Gage gave Noah the option to ride along with a ranch hand on the UTV loaded with fencing supplies or use one of the Triple T’s horses and accompany Gage on horseback. Noah liked to ride, and he judged his leg was ready to handle it, so he accompanied the rancher. They spent two hours positioning supplies along the fence line, then headed for Gage’s fishing spot.

In a state filled with breathtaking vistas, this one had to rank among the top ten. A rainbow of spring wildflowers carpeted a meadow ringed by towering, snowcapped mountains. A frothy, bubbling creek wound its way through the center of the field. It was hands down one of the most beautiful spots Noah had ever seen.

“What a hidden gem,” he said.

“Isn’t it? Our family is blessed. Now, let’s get to work and catch us some lunch, shall we?”

The trout all but jumped onto Noah’s flies, and he caught his limit within the first hour: three brown trout and a rainbow. Gage struck out but didn’t seem to care, especially once Noah offered to share his catch for their lunch.

“Honestly, I like the casting as much as the catching,” Gage told him when he sat around the fire Noah had built. “There’s something so relaxing about getting a line wet, don’t you think?”

“I totally agree.” Noah handed over two of the trout he’d cooked in the foil pouches with seasonings Gage had brought along.

“Thanks. Doesn’t seem right that I let you catch, clean, and cook, and now I’m gonna eat half of what there is.”

“Hey, it’s your creek. Your slice of heaven. I’m thrilled you’ve shared it with me. This has to be one of the prettiest spots in the state.”

“It was my late wife’s favorite spot on the ranch. Emily and I talked about building a getaway up here. Came close to doing it a time or two, but when it came right down to it, we liked it unspoiled. Decided this little campsite would do us.”

They ate their fish in silence but for a couple of smacks and hums of pleasure. Seasoned simply with butter, onion, salt, and pepper and baked in foil pouches over the fire, the fish was five-star cuisine.

“Delicious,” Noah said, licking his fingers when he’d polished off the last bite.

“Very good. Excellent job, Chef Noah.” Gage balled up his foil, wiped his hands with a paper towel, then deposited his trash in a bag. He stretched out his legs and leaned back on his elbows. “I could almost take a nap.”

“Go for it. We’re not on a clock.”

“Yeah, but my bones are too old to get comfortable on this hard ground without an air mattress under me, at least. Last time Emily and I tent camped up here, we needed to airlift in all the gear we needed for the night.” He sighed and smiled bittersweetly. “This is the first time I’ve come here since she died.”

“I’d heard through the grapevine that you lost her to cancer.” Noah flicked his gaze toward the older man, uncertain what Gage needed from him now. “You doing okay?”

“Yes. Yes, I am. I’ll admit I had a few moments while in the water. Maybe that’s why I proved to be such a lousy angler today.”

“As good an excuse as any, I’d say.”

“I had a good marriage,” Gage observed, his gaze on the bubbling mountain stream. “Emily wouldn’t have liked that I’ve avoided this place. She wouldn’t approve of quite a bit of what’s gone down since her death. I had a falling out with my kids. Still paying the price for that with my daughter. Had a falling out with God. I was one unhappy SOB, I’ll tell you.”

Noah scooped a handful of pebbles off the ground and began tossing them toward the water. “Losing someone you love is damned hard.”

“Losing anyone is damned hard. It didn’t matter how much money I had or how much stroke my family has in the area. Hell, in the entire state. Didn’t matter how many prayers I said or what sorts of bargains I tried to make with the Almighty. I couldn’t save my Emily. I was powerless. Made me so damned angry. Made me mean. What good does any of it do if you can’t save the one person who means the most?”

Gage muttered a curse and rolled to a sitting position. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what got into me to give me diarrhea of the mouth. That’s just wrong after a most delicious meal. Guess being up here is getting to me after all.”

“Shoot. Forget about it. I get it, Gage. I absolutely get it. Why do you think I’m hiding out at my grandfather’s cabin in Lake in the Clouds?”

“Hell, I knew there must be a reason I liked you so much. You ready to talk about that?”

Noah considered it. “No.”

Gage nodded. Both men rose and spent a few minutes tending to the campsite and packed up their horses. They made the ride back to Noah’s place in companionable silence. As Noah unloaded his gear from the packhorse, Gage said, “I hope you’re ready to get back to work in the morning. I’d like to get this project finished by the end of the week.”

“Shouldn’t be a problem.”

They discussed a few logistics for the coming days, and as Gage prepared to depart, he met Noah’s gaze and said, “Anytime you feel the need to talk, Tannehill, I’m your man.”

“I appreciate it.”

Noah wasn’t ready to talk today, but maybe soon. He had the feeling that sunshine and puppies and physical work might be pulling him out of the black hole where he’d existed for the past year.

Kissing a beautiful woman hadn’t hurt anything, either.

On Friday afternoon, almost two weeks after Jake and Tess’s wedding, Genevieve sat in the back of a luxury sedan and sipped from a bottle of sparkling water while a driver ferried her home from Aspen to Lake in the Clouds. Driving the Maserati through the mountains had been a kick but had totally worn her out. In hindsight, she should have arranged to drive the sports car one way instead of round trip. Next time she did something like this, she’d know better.

Not that there necessarily would be a next time. She had enjoyed the experience, but she couldn’t say she was passionate about it. Same with the drawing classes. Oh, she’d loved the setting—a large estate outside of Santa Fe with private bungalows. The food was fabulous, and the company interesting and eclectic.

She’d have enjoyed it more if Helen had been with her.

Won’t my sister love to hear that?

Based on the tone of some of the texts from Helen that she’d found on her phone when she’d turned it on this morning, Genevieve had some explaining to do. Oh, she’d known to expect that. One of the selling points of the workshop was that the time was “unplugged.” Guests were asked to send the estate’s emergency phone number to loved ones upon arrival, then turn off their phones and not turn them on again until departure.

Genevieve loved that part of the event. The time away from a screen of any kind had been restorative. In addition to the time spent with her sketchbook, it allowed her to think and to dream and to plan. She now had a nice long list of potential passions to explore.

Of course, her phone had blown up this morning, but she’d expected that, too.

She’d read through the messages, answered all that needed a response, and promised to call everyone by the end of the day tomorrow. Now she was ready to be home. She thought she’d probably call Helen and Willow once she arrived and had some privacy. Her driver was nice and friendly, but no way could she tell her sister about the male model they’d sketched while the driver could overhear.

Finally, he made the turn onto her street. Genevieve was surprised to see Willow’s car parked out front. Immediately, worry assailed her. Had something happened? No one had called her this afternoon. Making sure, she checked her phone for missed calls. Nothing.

Oh no. Is something wrong with Helen?

No. This was probably about the air clearing Willow wanted to do, but still.

Reaching into her purse for her keys, Genevieve spoke to the driver. “Paul, that’s my daughter’s car parked in front of my house. She’s not supposed to be there, and I’m a little worried that something is wrong. I’m going to dash on inside as soon as you stop.”

“Sure thing, Ms. Prentice.” He goosed the gas pedal, and the car accelerated, pulling into her driveway a few seconds faster, something Genevieve appreciated. She opened the door the moment it was safe. The driver called, “Good luck.”

She darted toward the front door, the quickest way into the house. Her heart pounded. Her mouth was dry as sand. Even as she attempted to fit her key into the lock with shaking fingers, she tried the knob. It turned. She rushed inside. “Willow?”

Three things hit her at once. Lights blazed in the kitchen. Andrea Bocelli played on the sound system. The aroma of garlic and olive oil drifted in the air.

Genevieve relaxed just a little bit. “Willow!”

“Hey, Mom!” Her daughter emerged from the kitchen, a smile on her face and a tea towel slung over her shoulder. “You’re home!”

“Is something wrong? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong. I decided to have a welcome-home celebration for you. I knew you’d be hungry from traveling, so I made Tuscan chicken. It’s almost ready.”

Something is wrong. “The kids are okay? Helen? Your sibs?”

“Yes, Mom. Everyone is fine.”

Well, something wasn’t fine. Genevieve knew her daughter. This was about more than a decade-overdue talk. “Okay, then. I’d better see to my driver.”

Fifteen minutes later, Genevieve’s bags had been deposited in her room. She’d changed her clothes, washed her face, and done some deep breathing to bring down her pulse rate. With a glass of wine in her hand, she sat at the kitchen bar and waited for her daughter to tell her what the heck was going on.

“You made an early dinner for us.”

“I did.”

“So, where are the children?”

“At home with a babysitter.”

“A babysitter?” Genevieve drew back in surprise. “Who?”

“Her name is Olivia Brinkley. I found her through a friend of Auntie’s. She’s sixteen, and this is the second time I’ve used her. The kids love her.”

“That’s good.” Genevieve sipped her wine.

Willow set a plate of charcuterie on the bar in front of Genevieve. “So, tell me about the art class. Did you enjoy it?”

“I did. But I’d rather you tell me why you’re here, Willow.” Genevieve chose a piece of cheese. “I know you wanted to talk, but this is a lot of effort. It feels bigger.”

Her daughter grimaced, then topped off her own glass of wine. “I had hoped to ease into this conversation with some small talk, but you always did say it’s best to pull the bandage off fast. That said, I’d rather start with the easiest and work my way up. Okay?”

Genevieve made a sweeping gesture. “This is your show.”

“All right. Well, then. Here goes. Remember how I talked about guiding words on New Year’s Eve? How I told you that mine for the year is listen? Well, I listened to you. I went and talked to Noah like you suggested.” Then, because she couldn’t help herself, she added, “I asked him if you two had a Mrs. Robinson thing going on.”

Genevieve choked on her cheese. She took a sip of wine to wash it down before saying, “You did not!”

Willow offered her mother a napkin. “I did. You threw me a loop with the whole passion thing.”

“Willow Anne,” Genevieve scolded.

“Don’t fret. I never really thought that, and Noah set me straight. I need you to know that I heard you, Mom. I did some hard thinking. I’ve made some decisions, but I want to run them by you before they’re set in stone. You have veto power. No hard feelings if you choose to exercise it.” Willow met her mother’s gaze and stressed, “I totally mean that. Okay?”

Warily, Genevieve said, “Okay.”

“All right. First, I’d like to make our stay in Lake in the Clouds permanent, but I intend to be mindful of your need—of all of our needs—for balance. To that end, after-school and summertime childcare will be handled by Little Ducklings Daycare while I try to get an event-planning business off the ground. Emma starts kindergarten in August, and I don’t intend to homeschool either her or Drew for the fall semester. In the meantime, you’re welcome to take them out of daycare for nana playdates whenever your heart desires.”

Genevieve folded her hands prayerfully in front of her face. “Oh, honey.”

Willow rushed on, anxious to get everything on the table before her mother offered a comment. “Auntie said we could continue to stay at the cabin at Raindrop, but I’m going to start looking for a house. Actually, I have started, but nothing appropriate is on the market right now. I wouldn’t have made an offer before having this conversation, but I wanted—”

“Oh, honey!” Genevieve repeated, rising from the bar stool and rushing toward her daughter. She threw her arms around Willow and hugged her hard. “I’m thrilled. Truly, I couldn’t be happier. This is the most wonderful news.”

“I’m glad you think so. We need you, Mom.”

Genevieve’s heart caught. Tears stung her eyes. “Oh, honey. You don’t know how badly I’ve missed being needed by you.”

“Well, if that’s the case, some of the other stuff I have to share will knock your socks off.”

“That sounds ominous.”

Willow gave Genevieve a crooked smile, then reached for her own wine. “It’s nothing that won’t keep until after dinner. Please, let’s lighten the mood so that we don’t spoil the chicken?” When Genevieve nodded her agreement, Willow continued. “I hope you’re ready to jump right into campaign mode. Auntie has a meeting scheduled for ten o’clock tomorrow morning.”

“So I understand. I had about one thousand and one e-mails waiting for me when I turned on my phone this morning.”

“How did you like being unplugged for so long?”

“I’ll be honest. I loved it.” Genevieve glanced ruefully toward her phone as she added, “It made me feel young again.”

“Oh, Mom. You are so not old. Tell me, how much fun was it to drive a Maserati?”

They talked about the car and the classes while Willow finished preparing their meal. Over dinner, the conversation turned to the events in Lake in the Clouds. Genevieve asked a few leading questions about Noah Tannehill. Still, Willow apparently hadn’t seen him, but for that one visit Genevieve had sent her on. Dang it. They talked about Helen’s campaign, Emma’s new shoes, and Drew’s latest scrape. Genevieve frowned and thought back over the past weeks. “Why, is that his first set of stitches since Christmas?”

“It is,” Willow confirmed.

“Wow. I hadn’t realized that.”

“Even more, this one was totally not his fault. Emma tried changing him into a frog with her fairy wand, and he accidentally backed over a log and clipped his arm on a rock.”

Genevieve clapped her hands and grinned. “Well, there you go. Smart boy to back away from a girl with a fairy wand. This chicken is fabulous as always, Willow. It’s truly one of my favorite meals ever.”

Willow accepted the compliment with a nod, then added, “Save room for dessert.”

Genevieve’s eyes gleamed. “We have dessert?”

“From Cloud Puffs,” Willow said, naming the local bakery.

“Death by Chocolate.”

“Well.” Genevieve set down her fork and sat back in her chair. For Willow to bring out the chocolate—serious chocolate at that—whatever news she had to share wasn’t good. “Okay. I’m not waiting any longer. Tell me what’s happened to upgrade this conversation from overdue to a calorie bombing? What do I need to know about Andy?”

Tears filled her daughter’s big blue eyes and overflowed to spill silently down her cheeks.

Genevieve grabbed a tissue from the box at the end of the bar and handed it to Willow, who said, “Mom, it’s bigger than just Andy. I hardly know where to start. ”

Gage and Noah set the final fence post at three o’clock on Friday afternoon. By five, as the Triple T Ranch work utility vehicle Gage drove approached Noah’s place, the older man observed, “I’m so hungry that my belt buckle is rubbing against my backbone.”

“I offered you half of one of my sandwiches at lunch,” Noah replied.

“If you didn’t need two, you wouldn’t have brought two. I needed you to work harder than I needed to fill my old man’s belly. I wanted to finish up today. That said, I wouldn’t object if you could find an apple for me in your house when we get there. Or maybe a hunk of bread. A side of beef.”

Noah grinned. “How about beef stew and biscuits? I put it all in the Crock-Pot this morning before you picked me up.”

“Son, you are a king among men.”

Noah grinned, something he’d been doing a lot this past week. Working alongside Gage and talking about everything and nothing to pass the time had been a catharsis neither man had expected, but it was clear both were better for it.

Now that they were back at his place, and since Gage had expressed his hunger so eloquently, Noah saw to getting food served right away.

“You’re a good cook,” Gage observed. “This is mighty fine beef stew.”

“Learning to cook is part of the job when you’re working in a firehouse. Firefighters like tasty, simple food and lots of it. Beef stew was always a basic.”

“Well, me and my belly thank you.” Gage patted his stomach with both hands. “I was getting… What’s that term the kids use when being hungry makes them cranky?”

“Hangry. Hungry and angry combined.”

“That’s it. Hangry no more,” the older man declared with satisfaction. “Right now, I’m happy as a dog with two tails. Work’s done. Belly’s full.”

Noah grinned. “Can I get you anything else?”

“Actually, you can. Got any whiskey around here, Tannehill?”

“I keep bourbon.” Noah gestured toward a cabinet.

Gage nodded with satisfaction. “Pour me a glass, and then go show me these puppies you keep trying to push off on me.”

“I can do that.”

Noah poured two glasses and led the rancher out to the workshop.

“I’ve enjoyed working with you, Noah,” Gage said as they stepped inside and Noah flipped on the lights. “I’ll admit it. I hate to see this time end. We will have to… whoa…” He gazed around the workshop. “You do some serious work here. This is a well-equipped shop.”

“It’s good for my mental health to get out and work with my hands. This workshop saved me. It’s only been lately that my leg has healed to the point to allow me to work like I have with you the past week.”

Gage nodded toward the shelving along one wall. “These are the fire-training dollhouses you told me about?”

“Yes,” Noah confirmed.

“Interesting.” He flicked a slide open and shut. “I’d like to see a demonstration sometime.”

“I can arrange that.”

Gage tested another couple of slides, then wandered over to the workbench where Noah’s latest project was coming along slowly. Very slowly. His day work stringing barbed wire had cut his woodworking time down to one or two hours in the evenings, tops.

“Well, look at this.” Gage leaned over and studied the Victorian dollhouse. Admiration filled his tone. “That is excellent detail work, Noah.”

“I believe if you’re going to do something, you might as well do it right. It’s the way my parents raised us.”

Gage gave him a sharp look, and Noah inwardly cursed. He’d just dropped a great big clue with the us there, hadn’t he? He waited for Gage to follow up with the logical question, but perhaps the mulish set of Noah’s jaw warned him off. Gage simply shrugged and said, “Some little lady is gonna be a lucky one. Does she know what she’s getting?”

“No. It’s a surprise.” Noah didn’t want to say anything more. He strode to stand beside the puppy pen. “I thought you wanted to look at the pups?”

“I’m getting to it.” Gage opened then shut one of the miniature window shutters. “You on a deadline to finish this dollhouse, like for a birthday or something?”

“No.”

“Good. For a minute there, I was afraid all that fishing I made you do might have delayed you and disappointed some little darling.”

Noah heard a slight change in his friend’s tone. A tightening. Not understanding it, he watched Gage closely as he responded. “You didn’t make me do any fishing, old man. Get that out of your head. You didn’t make me do anything except get off my ass, and that was good for me.”

“Well, I’m glad.”

Noah noted that Gage had begun massaging his hands. That wasn’t an ordinary habit of his friend’s. A touch of arthritis? Maybe some tendonitis? He’d worked hard with his hands the past week.

While Noah considered this, Gage abruptly straightened from his study of the dollhouse and crossed the workshop to stand beside Noah. He asked, “So, is Marigold a good mother?”

“She’s been very attentive. But she’s been spending more time away from the pups as she begins to wean them.”

“That’s nature’s way.”

Was the rancher looking pale? Hard to tell in this light. Noah turned toward the doorway leading to the building’s apartment. “I’m going to get some water. You want some, Gage?”

“I still have my whiskey.”

Noah decided to make him drink a bottle of water. It was easy to get dehydrated at this altitude. Alcohol only made that worse. With long, quick strides, he hurried through the shop into the apartment, where he grabbed two bottles of water and, just for safety’s sake, stuck a packet of aspirin in his pocket before returning to Gage.

The man had picked up a puppy while Noah had been in the apartment and was scratching him behind the ear. “You feeling okay, Gage?” he asked.

“Yeah. I’m fine.” He accepted the water Noah offered and drained half of it in one sip. “I probably didn’t drink enough water today. I know better.” He returned the puppy to the pen and changed the subject. “So, there’s something I’ve been wanting to ask you. What would you think about being introduced to my niece? She’s a nice woman. College educated, just moved back home after living in Florida for a few years. Pretty, too. Unfortunately, she’s not had a lot of luck in the romance department.”

That managed to distract Noah from his concern. “Thanks, but I’m not in the market.”

“That’s what I figured. I saw the way you looked at Willow Eldridge at the wedding. And by the looks of things, those kids of hers have you wrapped around their little fingers, too.”

“Hold on there.” Noah held up his hand, palm out. “That was just a favor for a friend.”

“Uh-huh.” Gage gave him a knowing grin, looking more like himself.

Noah relaxed. “No, seriously.”

Gage gave a disbelieving snort, then bent to pluck a ball from the toy basket Noah kept nearby. He threw it into the middle of the cavorting dogs.

The two men watched as a black-snouted male battled a solid gold female for a red rubber sphere. Noah felt compelled to open up a bit. “Look, my life is too big of a mess to involve other people in it.”

Gage gave him a sidelong look. “Is it really? Looks to me like you have a nice thing going here. A little lonely, perhaps.”

“I have some investments, but I don’t have a job. I live here cheaply alone, but I can’t hole up here indefinitely. At some point, I’ll have to do something to make a living.”

“Not a lot of profit in dollhouses?”

“Not hardly,” Noah scoffed. “Especially when you don’t charge for them.”

“Yeah, it’s hard to make any money when you give stuff away. How long has it been since your injury?”

Noah didn’t like talking about the events of that godawful day, but after working with Gage on the fencing, he respected the man too much to be rude to him. “A little over a year now.”

“How many surgeries did you have on your leg?”

Noah sighed. “Three major. Six total.”

“So all that physical trauma plus the mental fallout…” He shrugged. “Seems to me you haven’t needed to expend much thought figuring it out until now. I wouldn’t sweat it too much if I were you. If you want to see the woman, see the woman. Willow’s a good one.”

Considering that he’d been hiding from her ever since that kiss, Noah didn’t think that was a likely outcome. It was time to change the subject, so he rolled out his usual question. “You’re going to take one of these pups, aren’t you?”

“Actually, I am.”

Whoa. He hadn’t expected that. “You are?”

“Yeah. We always had Labs at the Triple T. Great bird dogs. Lost our last one not long before we found out that Emily was sick, and neither of us wanted a new dog at that point. I haven’t given it any thought until you started hounding me about it the last few days.”

“You don’t want to go back to Labs? You can’t count on these dogs growing up to be hunters.”

“No, I like the idea of a mutt. So, are you going to let me have the pick of the litter?”

That question stopped Noah. “Actually, can I get back to you on that? I sort of promised first pick to… someone else… but I’m not sure if they’re still interested.”

“‘Someone else.’ Let me guess. Willow Eldridge?”

“Her kids.”

“Is the—” Gage broke off abruptly as a strange look came across his face. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his blue bandanna. “You must have put a lot of pepper in that stew of yours. I’m sweating like a big dog.”

It had been a long time, but Noah instinctively switched to professional mode. “C’mere.” He took Gage’s arm and led him back to the bench. “You having chest pain?”

“No. Not really.” After Noah’s challenging look, he added, “Maybe a little discomfort.”

“How long has it been hurting?”

“Look, Tannehill, there’s no need—”

“Answer the questions, or I’m calling 911 right now.”

Gage huffed a sigh. “It started while we were working today.”

“It’s getting worse?”

“A little, yeah.” His voice was tight.

“Do you have any history of heart problems?”

Gage shook his head. “No.”

Noah snapped out the rest of his questions at a rapid pace. “High blood pressure? High cholesterol?”

“No.”

“What meds do you take?”

“I don’t take any meds. I don’t trust doctors.”

“Why am I not surprised?” Noah muttered. “So, tell me about your pain. What does it feel like?”

“Just some pressure on my chest.”

“Do you feel it anywhere else?”

“Maybe… kinda… here.” He lifted his hand and rubbed his jaw.

Noah reached for his phone. “One last question. Scale of one to ten. How bad is the pain?” He was already punching in 911 when Gage responded.

“Ah, hell. I don’t know. Maybe a seven?”

Waiting for the operator to answer, Noah handed over the aspirin. “Take these now.”

In quick, succinct language, Noah requested an ambulance be sent to his address for a suspected cardiac event. Assured that help was on the way, he turned all his attention to his friend.

“I’m having a heart attack, aren’t I?” Gage asked, his tone grim.

“Maybe. Can’t know for sure without an EKG.”

“Unless I keel over dead. Then it’d be a pretty good guess.”

“Personally, I’d rather wait for the EKG.” Understanding that what Gage needed now was distraction, Noah asked, “So, which of the pups strikes your fancy?”

Gage scowled at him. “You trying to distract me from the fact I’m at death’s door?”

“Yes,” Noah replied matter-of-factly. “This doesn’t have to be a heart attack, Gage. It could be angina. It could be something else. Maybe it is just too much pepper in the stew.”

“Damned good stew, though,” Gage said, attempting a smile.

Noah kept it light. “Glad you think so.”

“Hope it doesn’t kill me,” Gage quipped.

Noah chided him with a look, then tried to change the subject back to the dogs. He didn’t want Gage focused on death. “So, what about the puppy? You looking for a boy dog or a girl?”

Gage wasn’t buying the distraction. “What’s with the hard sell on the mutts when I’m sitting here with an elephant on my chest?”

“I’m attempting to help you remain calm. It’s in the handbook.” Noah made a show of pursing his lips in thought, then added, “I think. It’s been a while since I checked.”

Gage snorted. “Just my luck to get a firefighter instead of a doctor.”

“I thought you didn’t trust doctors.”

One corner of Gage’s mouth lifted in a half smile, acknowledging the hit. “What the hell is calming about puppies? They’re the biggest bundle of nerves in the world.”

“True, but look at them. They’re cute bundles of nerves. It makes me happy to watch them play. The thing is, they can’t be left to puppy-on all the time at this point. It’s time to start training them. Gotta get those good habits going before the bad ones set in. I know you know that. I’ve seen you with horses. I’ll bet your dogs were always well trained.”

Sitting hunched over with his hands on his knees, Gage stared toward the pups but gazed into the past. “They were. Emily wouldn’t have it otherwise. Dogs were a helluva lot easier to train than our kids. That’s for damned sure.” Gage paused a moment. Shut his eyes. “My kids. I think Zach’s the only one in town this week. Will you call him for me?”

“I will. Want me to call him now?”

Gage used his bandanna to wipe his brow again. “No. Wait. Maybe I should. If I croak…”

“I think you should be thinking positive about now, Gage. I’m not a doctor, but I will tell you that the fatal heart attacks I responded to went like…” Noah snapped his fingers.

Gage nodded solemnly. “Widow-makers.”

Noah was relieved to hear the wail of an approaching siren. “Slang term and only anecdotal evidence, but I’m not too worried that I’ll have to find a spot for one of these pups that isn’t the Triple T Ranch.”

Gage gave him a weak smile, then reached into his pocket and handed over his phone. “Maybe call him once I’m in the meat wagon?”

“Will do. They won’t allow me to ride with you, but I’ll follow along behind, so I’m there to bust heads if I think they’re taking too long.”

“Appreciate ya.”

Noah gave his shoulder a squeeze. “I’m going to wave the driver down so he’ll know where to come. Keep an eye on those pups for me, would you?”

“I’ll do that. And Tannehill? If Willow’s kids don’t want the girl dog with the white fiddle on her face, she’s the one I’ll take. She’s a feisty little thing.”

“Noted. I’ll check with Willow and keep you posted.”

The EMTs didn’t take long to get Gage loaded into the ambulance and headed to the hospital. Noah scrolled through the contacts list on Gage’s phone, looking for Zach’s number. When the call went to voice mail, he hesitated.

Noah knew that the Throckmorton father and son had a rocky roller coaster of a relationship. Gage had spoken about it more than once while they’d worked on the fence. Apparently, Zach and his dad had all but come to blows this past weekend over a misunderstanding about something to do with a bid Zach’s construction company had made for a local project in which Gage had an interest. It stood to reason that Zach might not want to talk to his dad today, but leaving a “there’s been a medical emergency” voice mail wasn’t cool.

Noah disconnected the call and dialed the number from his own phone. Zach answered on the second ring. “Independence Construction. Zach Throckmorton speaking.”

“Zach, this is Noah Tannehill. I’m calling about your dad.” By the time he finished his conversation with Zach, he had his workshop locked, and his keys in his hand.

He arrived at the hospital no more than ten minutes behind the ambulance that had brought Gage in and sat down to wait.