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Spencer’s truck idled near the fence line when Ginger arrived, and she parked beside him. She also didn’t bother to turn off the ATV as she hurried to climb the fence and get out to where he stood, waving both hands above his head.
She jogged toward him, hoping she didn’t land on a divot or hole in the field and twist her ankle. Her phone pealed, and she answered it.
“It’s Nick,” Emma said, her voice panicked. “Besides you and Spence, he’s the only one not here.”
Ginger’s blood ran cold, and she forced her feet to move faster. “Thanks,” she panted into the phone before she lowered it from her ear. It couldn’t be Nick.
He can’t be hurt, she thought over and over again.
Spencer started yelling, but Ginger was still too far away to hear the words. Just noise entered her ears, and she felt something wet on her face. Crying. She was crying.
What would she tell her aunt? She’d promised to take care of Nick, who wasn’t even twenty years old yet.
As she neared, she could make out Spencer’s words. “He’s okay, Ginger! He’s okay!”
She didn’t slow down, her eyes focused solely on her cousin, who was on the ground and not moving. How was that okay?
She finally arrived, Spencer talking a mile a minute. “I saw the tractor out here going this morning, but I didn’t think anything of it. Then, the next time I drove past, Ursula was running in a circle out here, and there was no one in the tractor. So I pulled over and jumped on-board to get it stopped. I tried to get Ursula to come, but she wouldn’t. She barked and barked and barked..” He scrubbed down Ursula, who paced in front of Nick.
She barked on cue, and Ginger focused on the dog.
“She’d come toward me for a few feet, bark, and then go back to him,” Spencer continued. “Remember how you asked where she’d gone this morning and I didn’t know? I think she’s been out here with him.”
Ginger reached for the German shepherd, needing the extra support. Ursula didn’t stop pacing though, and she whined before she licked Nick’s face. He wasn’t bleeding, and Ginger didn’t know where to put her hands.
The dog barked again, and Ginger knelt down on the ground next to her cousin. “Nick?” she asked. “It’s Ginger. Can you hear me?”
“He said a couple of things a few minutes ago,” Spencer said. “I think he’s okay.”
“He’s clearly not okay,” Ginger snapped, her anxiety reaching a boiling point. “Sorry,” she said immediately afterward. “He’s hypoglycemic. He needs orange juice.” She stood up, frantically searching for the tractor. “He’ll have had something with him. Did you check his pockets?”
“No,” Spencer said. “I didn’t know he was hypoglycemic.” He just stood there, and Ginger wanted to shake him.
She started toward the green tractor in the distance. “Check his pockets,” she called over her shoulder. “If he has something to suck on—a piece of candy, a mint, anything—put it in his mouth.”
“Ginger,” Spencer called after her, but she faced forward and focused on breathing as she ran. The tractor was closer than the ATV, and she hurried to climb up into the cab. A handful of butterscotch candies sat in the tray right below the key, and she grabbed however many would fit in her palm.
A jolt went up her legs when she jumped back to the ground, but she pressed on. Nick could be slipping into a coma by now if he’d been out here for hours. What time was it? What time had she noticed Ursula was missing?
Ginger didn’t have any of the answers to her questions, and a couple of the candies fell from her fingers as she ran. “Hold on,” she said, but she wasn’t sure if she was talking to herself or to Nick.
She made it back to his side, and Spencer said, “He didn’t have anything.”
“Help me hold his head up so he doesn’t choke,” she said, frantically unwrapping one of the butterscotches. “He had these in the tractor.”
“I thought he just liked those,” Spencer said, kneeling on the other side of Nick. He moaned as Spencer lifted him so he was lying in Spencer’s lap.
“Have you ever seen him eat one?” Ginger asked, taking a moment to look at Spencer.
He just shook his head, and Ginger reached out to put the candy in her cousin’s mouth. “All right, Nick,” she said. “Here’s one of your candies. Come on now. Eat it all, okay?”
“The ambulance is coming,” Spencer said, nodding over her shoulder. Ginger turned to look, quickly refocusing on Nick. A bit of dribble came from the corner of his mouth, and she wiped it away.
Panic built in her chest—until Nick groaned, his mouth moving around the candy.
“That’s right,” she said. “Chew it, Nick.”
He didn’t wake completely before the paramedics arrived, but some of the color had returned to his face, and he was moving a lot more. So much that Ginger worried he’d spit out the candy.
