Tacker (Arizona Vengeance #5)(72)

“I have a pulse,” I hear one say. The flood of relief at hearing those words is so great my legs give way. I sag to the ground, right at Starlight’s hooves.

I watch for a few moments as they work on Raul. They’re efficient, managing to hook him up to monitors, get an IV rolling, and put him on a gurney in less than two minutes.

“Ma’am, we’re going to take him to Lake General,” one says as they start moving him toward the back of the ambulance. I blink, trying to focus. “Would you like to ride with us or meet us there?”

“Shit,” I mutter as I scramble to my feet. “I want to ride with you. Let me just put Starlight up.”

I’ll have to call and cancel the next two appointments, and I’m going to need to get someone to come feed the horses later.

I jog to the barn, Starlight trotting easily behind me. In moments, I have her released into her stall and the door shut before I’m sprinting back to the ambulance.

The side door is open, and I climb in. One of the paramedics directs me to a bench beside Raul where I can sit. I sort of thought they’d have me ride up front, but I’m grateful to be back here with him. I grab his hand, relishing in the fact it’s still warm.

It’s only after the ambulance is on its way that I pull my phone out. I send a quick text to the two appointments I have coming to cancel.

Then I call Tacker. He’s probably on the road on the way to the arena right now.

He answers on the second ring. “What’s up, you gorgeous, smokin’ hot woman, you.”

“Tacker,” I say, my voice cracking.

He’s on instant high alert. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s Raul,” I say, sucking in breath through my nose in an effort not to break down. Slowly, I let it out. “He collapsed. We’re in an ambulance headed to Lake General Hospital.”

“Jesus,” he groans, and I can feel the fear and pain in his voice. He’s come to care so much for Raul. “I’ll head that way now and meet you there.”

“Okay,” I say, my voice so small I’m surprised he hears it.

But he does, and his is strong in response. “He’s a tough old man. He’ll be fine. I promise.”

I don’t know how he could possibly know that. For now, though, I choose to believe him. “You’re right,” I finally say into the phone. “He’ll be fine.”

When Tacker hangs up, I start to pray we’re both right.





CHAPTER 31




Tacker


I told her Raul would be fine, and I’m kicking myself for saying it. It’s a promise to her that I’m not sure I can uphold because it’s completely out of my control.

All that I keep telling myself over and over again as I correct my course to the hospital is that Raul is indeed tough and in general good health. Whatever made him collapse is nothing but a speed bump which he can overcome.

I hope.

I also start to pray as I drive, something I haven’t bothered doing in an awfully long time because I had convinced myself that God didn’t care.

Funny how quickly I can lapse back into calling on Him for help. But I’m not asking for me—I’m asking for Nora. She doesn’t deserve any more sadness. While I logically know Raul will die one day, it can’t be today.

Things are just going too good for Nora these days—and for me as well—that I selfishly don’t want to have to deal with grief again.

My GPS effortlessly manages to put me at the hospital within twenty-five minutes of Nora’s call. I head into the emergency room, the sliding glass doors whooshing behind me. I’m slowed down by the hospital’s diligence to security. Once I make it through a metal detector, I scan the lobby. Nearly every chair is filled with the sick and injured that are waiting to be seen.

I can’t find Nora, so I go to the admissions desk. A helpful-looking girl smiles at me. Her eyes flare with recognition. Thankfully, she doesn’t make a big deal about who I am. I’m sure she can tell by the expression on my face that I’ve got other things on my mind.

“Can I help you?” she asks.

“My friend was brought in by ambulance… Raul Vargas,” I say. “I’m also looking for my other friend who rode along with him… Nora Wayne.”

“Just a minute,” she replies as she starts tapping away on her computer. However, before she can even look back up, a set of doors to my right opens and Nora comes through.

Her arms are crossed over her stomach, her eyes somewhat blank. My heart sinks—assuming the worst—but then she sees me.

Relief causes that iron mask to crumble. She stumbles right into me, burying her face into my chest.

I hold her for a moment, my heart hammering with fear as to what she might say about Raul.

Finally, she pulls her head back so she can see me. “They’re working on him now. They told me to wait out here until they get him stabilized.”

“What happened?”

“I don’t know,” she practically moans, sounding helpless. “One minute, he was fine. The next, he was on the ground. I couldn’t find a pulse, so I started CPR. It was awful.”

At this point, she starts sobbing, so I lead her over into a corner of the lobby where there aren’t any chairs, only a huge potted plant, but at least it affords us a little privacy. Simply holding Nora, I let her cry. Every tear soaking into my shirt causes my chest to ache more and more.