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By lunchtime, I’ve gone through nearly all the business properties in our small town, and every single one, with the exception of Ava’s bakery, has some connection to the Steel Trust.
And the public properties?
Owned by the trust, with the exception of the one I’m in at the moment, which is owned by Henry, who is part of the Steel family.
So the Steels really do own this town.
And Donny had no idea.
And then I realize something even stranger.
Alyssa and Troy came in shortly after I did.
I was so absorbed in my work that something escaped my notice.
Donny hasn’t come into the office.
And it’s lunchtime.
Chapter Seventeen
Donny
Earlier that morning…
I wake to the sound of my phone.
“Yeah?” I say without even looking to see who it is.
“Donny, thank God.” Diana’s voice.
My heart drops as fear hurtles through me in boundless waves. “Dee, what is it? Is Dad okay?”
“They had to take him back into surgery,” she says.
All other problems in my life dissipate. Only Dad matters. “Shit. What’s wrong?”
“They don’t think it’s serious, but he ran high fevers overnight, and they can’t figure out the cause. They need to have a look inside.”
“Prognosis?”
“They don’t know. Donny…”
“I’m on my way. Tell Mom.”
I don’t shower. I pull on the first clothes I find—a pair of worn jeans and a black T-shirt—shove my boots on, and head out.
Callie.
I text her quickly that I’m going to Grand Junction. I leave out details. I have no idea what I’m rushing into, and I don’t want to worry her.
Within thirty minutes, I arrive at the hospital and Dad’s private room.
Diana runs into my arms. “Donny, thank God. Mom needs you.”
My mother is slumped in a recliner, her hair in disarray, her eyes puffy and red. She sniffles when she raises her head, but she doesn’t stand.
“Hey, Mom.” I pull up a chair and sit next to her. “What can I do for you?”
“Pray,” she says, gripping my hand.
“Do you have any new information?”
Mom doesn’t reply. I nod toward Diana.
“Nothing,” my sister says. “He’s been in surgery for an hour and a half. Aunt Mel went to get coffee and make some phone calls. Is Dale coming?”
“I don’t know. Did anyone call him?”
“I did, but he didn’t pick up.”
“If you left a message, I’m sure he’s on his way. You know how close he is to Dad. What about Bree?”
“She has an exam this morning. We were texting last night. I couldn’t bear to tell her this before the test.”
I nod, though I disagree with my sister. Bree should know. Dale should know. They should both be here. This is Dad, for God’s sake.
Dale would move mountains to get here.
Just then, the mountain rushes into the room, his long hair a tangled mass of blond waves. Diana flies into Dale’s arms.
Dale kisses the top of Dee’s head and then turns to me. “What’s the news?”
“Nothing new. We’re just waiting.”
“Mom?” He nods toward our mother, who’s a mess on the chair.
“She’s hanging in there.”
Truth be told, though, I’ve never seen my mother like this. She’s turned into a zombie with swollen eyes and a red nose. This isn’t like her. This is worse than when he was first shot, and we didn’t know whether he’d even make it.
I clasp my hand around her forearm. “Mom?”
She sniffles.
“Mom, you need to snap out of this funk. Dad needs you.”
Dad needs you.
Those words get her.
Her eyes widen, and then tears flow from them. “Oh, Donny.”
“I told her the same thing before you got here,” Dee says, “but I didn’t get that reaction.”
Dale shakes his head at Dee.
Dee may be of her body, but Mom and I have something the rest of her kids don’t. She loves us all equally, but she and I have that mother-son bond that is unequaled by anything else.
“What can we do for you?” I ask Mom. “Aunt Mel should be back with the coffee soon.”
Mom sighs. “Melanie’s been a saint. I don’t know how I’d have gotten through all this without her. She has a way of calming me down.”
“I know.” And I did know. Aunt Mel is a psychiatrist—retired now, for the most part—and helped Dale and me so much when we were kids. Dale still sees her when he needs a boost.
“Come on, Dee.” Dale tugs on her arm. “Let’s go see if we can find any news from the nurses’ station.”
The two of them leave the hospital room, which was beginning to feel pretty cramped. We Steels are not small people.
That’s not why they left, though. They know Mom will respond to me.
I have so many questions, but I can’t bombard Mom with them right now. Not when her husband—my father—is in surgery.
Dale and Dee don’t return, so I sit with Mom. Just sit with her, my hand on her forearm.
And we wait.
An hour later, a nurse enters the room. “Mrs. Steel?”
