Page 48
Story: One Hot Texas Summer
“I don’t know anything except what I told you, that he collapsed. But the timing couldn’t be any worse. What with the festival starting in two days. And being at a satellite location this year for the first time. This is a disaster.”
“Macy! A man is on his way to hospital. I think the festival should be the least of your worries.”
Macy ran a hand through her long hair. The country singer normally looked in control, but Kelly could see she was stressed and worried and had blurted out her words without really thinking about them. “Shit, you’re right. Sorry. Sorry. I want everything to be perfect this year, with me organizing it all.”
While Kelly wanted to reassure her friend that it would all go off without a hitch, her main concern was Tate and his father. “I need to go to the hospital. I need to be there for Tate.”
Her friend hugged her. “I’m sure everything will be okay. Go be with Tate. And forget about what I said about the festival. Everyone attending probably won’t even notice all the changes we’ve made.”
Kelly returned her friend’s hug. “Thanks, Mace. And don’t worry, if I have to not sleep for the next forty-eight hours”—which had been entirely probable anyway—“I’ll make sure everything is completed on time. I know Mom will help out more.”
Macy released her hold. “Now, don’t you go getting yourself sick. I’m sure with the trees and everything else at the farm, if you don’t get out there to do the flowers, it will be fine. All that greenery will be nice anyway.”
“Funny, that’s exactly what Tate said.” Her voice hitched and she swallowed down tears. Oh, what pain the man she loved must be in.
The man she loved.
It was true. She’d gone and fallen in love with Tate, and he was everything she’d told herself she didn’t want. But he was everything she needed.
And he needed her now. “I’ll keep you updated.”
“Sounds good.”
With a wave, Kelly hurried out of the town square, heading to her shop to get her purse and go the hospital.
She had no idea if Tate would welcome her there, but for once, he was going to accept help and support even if he didn’t want it.
*
Tate paced upand down the waiting room. He was here alone. Trey was off on the West Coast and Tyler was in Houston. Tate had left a message asking Trey to call him when he could. The call to Tyler had gone straight to voice mail as well, and so he had to leave another message, this one a little more terse and demanding than the one he’d left for Trey.
Once again, the burden of his father’s ill health had fallen on his shoulders. He was tired of it. Tired of always having to be the strong one, when all he wanted to do was sit down on one of the uncomfortable plastic chairs and sob his heart out. Tired of bearing all the responsibility alone.
As quickly as the thoughts entered his mind, he threw them out. Dad’s health wasn’t something Tate should resent. If it wasn’t him standing here alone, it could’ve been one of his brothers. He’d like to think, though, that he’d be there for either Trey or Tyler. He liked to believe he wouldn’t leave them to shoulder the responsibility alone.
Tate paused in his pacing and slumped down in one of the chairs, burying his face in his hands. The second he closed his eyes, the image of his father lying on their front porch, the front door wide open, flashed before him. His father’s skin had been clammy and his breathing labored. Tate had called 911 and grabbed his father’s hand, willing him to hang on until help arrived. The harvest workers all stood around him, watching. How he controlled his urge to yell at them to back off surprised him.
His worst nightmare had come true and all the activity surrounding the festival had caused his father to have another stroke.
If only he hadn’t been making sure the damned urns weren’t damaged as they were placed in the spots Kelly designated. He’d just finished texting her that they were safe when he’d found his father.
He should’ve been inside with Dad. He could’ve stopped him from going outside and attempting to do work he was in no fit state to do.
“Tate?”
He kept his head down, he didn’t want to speak to her or anyone. He wanted to be alone. He deserved to be alone. But there was no mistaking the gentle hand on his shoulder or the aroma of flowers and sunshine, the smells he associated with Kelly.
Lifting his head from his hands, he saw her standing in front of him. “What are you doing here?” His words were harsh.
The person standing in front of him was the reason his dad was in this place again.
“I came as soon as I heard about your dad. I didn’t want you to be alone.”
Tate couldn’t take it anymore. Anger at everything that had happened over the last few months erupted. “Really? Do you want to know why I’m here? I’m here because ofyou.”
“What?” Kelly’s face paled and her eyes widened. A rational part of him told himself that he was taking his anger out on the wrong person… but he had no idea if he would ever see his dad alive again.
“I was making sure your precious urns were delivered and placed in the areas you wanted unscathed. Everything about this damn festival has caused me nothing but stress and upheaval. I’ve had to change the harvest schedule to accommodate the workers doing the setup. I’ve had to ensure that those same workers didn’t get in the way of the day-to-day running of the farm. All the while making sure that my dad didn’t get stressed out over all the activity.” He stood and placed his hands on his hips. “Do you know how hard that is? No, because your first visit out to the farm was today and it wasn’t to supervise the setup. It was to ask me to do you a favor. Well, that favor could cost my father his life, and I’m not sure I can ever forget or forgive that.”
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