AllFreeNovel
Share Us
As he drove, he couldn’t help thinking about Mrs. S’s outrageous proposal, and what it might mean for him if the worst came to pass. He hated himself for wondering about what would happen to his diner, but she held the mortgage on the building, not to mention the business loans she’d made over the years to Mama, and later, to him.
If Mrs. S dies, is Summer gonna inherit her grandma’s half of the diner?
Brock shuddered. He didn’t want to think about how quickly he could lose all of his hard work and family history.
When they arrived at the hospital, Brock dropped Summer off at the entrance to the large, single-story building and went in search of a parking space.
He considered waiting out here in the parking lot instead of going in. He fucking hated hospitals. Once he stepped foot through those doors, he knew that the smells and the sounds would flood him with memories of his mother’s surgeries, and her monthly visits here for chemo treatments.
Don’t be such a fucking weenie, he told himself.After everything the Snowberrys did for Mama, this is the least I can do for Mrs. S and her family.
He parked on the street, then began walking across the hospital’s front lawn towards the low, tan brick building. Then he saw a familiar white extended-cab Ford pickup approaching, and spotted Bob and Priscilla Snowberry, Summer’s parents, sitting in the truck’s cab, with Spring sitting behind them.
He stopped and waited for them to park.
“Brock! How is Abigail doing?” Priscilla Snowberry demanded as she emerged from the truck and hurried over to him. She wore somewhat raggedy jeans shorts and a tank top. With her blonde hair pulled back in a loose ponytail, she looked like an older version of Summer.
“I don’t know. Summer and I just got here a couple of minutes ago,” Brock replied.
“And thank you so much for driving her!” Priscilla enveloped Brock in an unexpected hug. “I was out in the stables and didn’t check my phone for a while.”
“It’s no problem,” he assured her, surrounded by the comforting smell of sweet hay and horses. “I’m worried about Mrs. S, too. I hope she’s gonna be okay.”
Priscilla nodded. “Bob’s taking it pretty hard,” she confessed, her gaze moving to the two men approaching them.
She reached out and took her husband’s hand. Bob Snowberry was a big man, with graying hair and the deeply tanned, weathered complexion of someone who spent his days outdoors in all kinds of weather.
Summer’s brother Spring—his real name was Zachary, but no one ever called him that—nodded in Brock’s direction. “Hey, Brock.”
He was a tall, serious-looking guy, a few years older than Brock. The news had apparently pulled him away from haying—green bits of alfalfa and golden wisps of timothy grass were stuck to his t-shirt and cowboy hat.
Brock nodded back. “Hey, Spring.”
Priscilla’s phone chimed. She glanced down. “Autumn says she’s on her way. She’ll be here in a half-hour.”
Autumn was Summer’s younger sister. She’d married an older man shortly after graduating from high school and moved to Bozeman.
“Let’s go inside and hear what the doc has to say about how my mom’s doing,” Bob suggested in his soft voice.
Feeling like a fifth wheel, Brock tailed them into the hospital.
They found Summer sitting in the ER waiting room. She sprang up as soon as her parents and brother walked in, and everyone exchanged hugs.
Now that everyone’s here, I should probably get back to the diner,Brock thought, trying to push down a sudden stab of envy at this display of family closeness.
With Mama gone, he didn’t have any close kin in the area. His grandparents had passed a few years ago. He was an only child, and his father had walked out when Brock was in the fourth grade.
The year after high school graduation, Brock’s old man had gone off the highway somewhere in Idaho and wrapped his car around a tree. The medical examiner had found his blood alcohol level was twice the legal limit.
Brock’s only reaction had been relief that his father hadn’t hurt or killed anyone else in the accident.
Lunch rush would be over by the time Brock returned to Snowberry Springs, but it wouldn’t be fair to leave the cleanup to Marlene and the rest of his staff.
Besides, he was eager to review the day’s receipts and see if the changes he’d made had paid off.
But first, he had to know whether Mrs. S was going to pull through.
“What happened to Abigail?” Priscilla asked Summer. “Your texts were a little confusing.”
