“How do you know this?” Bliss asked, as Katie cranked on the wheel and the convertible rolled into the driveway of the ranch.

“Mom.”

“Brynnie knew?”

“She and John have always been close and I know that probably bothers you, but . . . well, there it is. . . .” Her voice faded as she stared through the bug-spattered windshield. “Uh-oh. What’s going on?”

Bliss had been looking at her half-sister but as she turned she spied an ambulance, its lights still flashing starkly. Parked at an odd angle near the front door of the house, the white-and-orange emergency vehicle loomed before Bliss like a specter. Her heart nearly stopped. “Oh, God. lt’s . . . it’s Dad!” she cried, her throat closing and fear congealing her insides. “He’s had another heart attack!”

“You don’t know anything of the sort—” But Katie stepped on the brakes. The convertible skidded to a stop only feet from the ambulance.

Bliss’s heart turned to stone.

Paramedics were wheeling a gurney out of the house. Wheels rattled and creaked, and an ashen-faced John Cawthorne lay on the thin white mattress.

“Dad!” Bliss was out of the car in an instant.

Brynnie, sobbing hysterically, was following close behind the gurney and Oscar was yapping and bounding, confused by all the activity. Horses and cattle grazed lazily, unaffected by all the human drama, and a few of the ranch hands were standing around, grim-faced, their hands in their pockets, their cheeks bulging with chewing tobacco. From somewhere—probably the dash of the ambulance—a radio crackled and the entire scene seemed surreal. Bliss’s legs felt like lead as she ran toward her father. Her heart was beating a dread-filled cadence and her eyes burned with tears she didn’t dare shed.

“What happened? Is he all right? Where are you taking him?” she asked, surprised she wasn’t shrieking.

“Slow down and stay out of the way.” The shorter paramedic sliced her a look that brooked no argument. “We’re taking him in to town, the medical center. If the doctors there think he needs more specific care, he’ll be transported to the hospital in Medford.”

The hospital. Mom had died in Seattle General. Dad had nearly lost his life, as well. “Oh, my God.”

“He’s gonna be all right,” Katie predicted, but beneath her freckles her skin had turned the color of the sheets draping her father’s thin body.

Let him be all right, Bliss silently prayed as she grabbed one of John’s hands.

“Please, miss, stand aside,” the round paramedic with thinning blond hair ordered. Bliss stepped back and let her father’s fingers slide through her own.

“I’m his daughter,” Bliss said.

“So am I,” Katie added.