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In the yearsince Katherine’s father passed, her mother’s health had rapidly declined.I feared she wouldn’t live until Christmas.Josephine’s condition was also taking a heavy toll on my wife.
She’d lost a considerable amount of weight, yet any attempts I made to get her to eat resulted in her telling me she had no appetite.While she was able to keep it from me when awake, in the night, when she slept, she often groaned, bending at the waist as though she was in pain.
“Katherine, you’re scaring me,” I said when she sat up, turned to get out of bed, and I could see the outline of her spine.
“The kids—” she said when I put my hand around her waist, preventing her from standing.
“Are still asleep.I insist you see a doctor.”
“It’s just…my mom, the ranch, the kids…I’m tired.Once your parents arrive, they’ll be able to help.”My mum and dad had agreed to come for the holiday and would arrive in a week’s time.I wished, now, I’d asked them to come sooner.
“It’s more than that,” I said, cupping her cheek.“Please, my darling.I beg you.Let me make an appointment for you to see someone.”
“Okay,” she whispered.
The soonest someone could see her was two weeks out because of the holiday.Eight days after I made the appointment, Josephine died in her sleep.
Katherine went to check on her while I looked in on the kids, who’d been sharing a room since we moved into the main ranch house permanently.No amount of coaxing could get our five-year-old son and four-year-old daughter to accept having rooms of their own.
After reassuring the kids that everything was okay—as much as I knew it wasn’t—I raced down the hallway when I heard Katherine’s scream followed by keening-like cries.
For the next two weeks,we stood and greeted all those who attended the visitation to pay their respects to Josephine.Followed by the funeral and burial.
In the midst of it, Katherine, my parents, and I put on a brave front to allow our children to celebrate Christmas.And, in that time, my beloved wife’s health continued to deteriorate.
“Enough!”I finally bellowed when she again refused my request to reschedule the doctor appointment she’d missed.
I felt horrid when she dissolved in my arms, crying in the same way she had over her mother.I cupped her cheek, even more worried when I looked into her bloodshot eyes, the whites of which had a yellow cast to them.
“No more waiting.I’m taking you to see someone today.”
I was both relieved and more worried when she didn’t argue with me.
I thanked God my parents were with Quint and Wren when, after doing a rather standard-seeming examination, the emergency doctor said he wanted to admit Katherine to “take a closer look.”
After several types and rounds of tests, many sleepless nights, and more tears, I sat in a room, gripping Katherine’s hand in both of mine as the doctor gave us the worst news imaginable.She had advanced pancreatic cancer.At best, she had five years, even with the best treatment in the world.She lived less than one.
The first fewyears were the most difficult of my life.Three years after Katherine passed, I lost my mum.Two years later, my dad was gone.
I did my best to raise our two children the way I knew my late wife would have, while at the same time, caring for the ranch she’d left to them and me.
In her will, she’d requested it be renamed King-Alexander.Given there was no other family on either her mother’s or father’s side, there was no reason not to honor Katherine’s wishes.
Shortly after her father died, I took his place at the Austin Polo Club and now, was glad I did.Riding for sport was far different than riding the ranch, and it gave me a few hours’ release whenever I could fit it in, which wasn’t often.
Thankfully, I had help from ranch hands who had worked for the King family like their fathers and grandfathers before them.I did my best to stay out of their way but to be available when they needed me.
Tetina Rodriguez, who we affectionately called Tee-Tee and who had worked in the dining hall kitchen since she was a teenager, kept us well-fed and was also a mother figure for Quint and Kennedy.She was kind and loving, and had known their mother well enough to share stories about her.Most were things I’d never heard, including about the year she spent as national Queen of the Rodeo during her senior year in high school.
When Quint entered junior high,he made a friend who hung out at the house with us so often that it sometimes felt as though he lived here.His name was Decker Ashford, and like Quint, he was thirteen years old.
It wasn’t long before I learned why he always seemed to be at our place—the kid had been bounced around the foster care system since he was seven years old, and lately, I’d been seeing signs of abuse.
Also like Quint, Decker had lost his mum at a young age, but for an entirely different reason.From what I’d learned after contacting child protective services, both his mother and father had deserted him and, not long after, died from a drug overdose—just not together.
I made arrangements for us to be his “foster family,” and after several months, I asked Quint and Kennedy, who I’d taken to calling Wren, to join me in my office.My daughter reminded me of the little bird with her abundant energy, vibrancy, and alertness.Both of Katherine’s and my children were intelligent, but Wren was beyond brilliant, just like her mum.
