Guilt rippled through his stomach. Their dad had always been a proud supporter of their Naval careers. Not once had Dale even thought about the worry and anxiety a parent went through with a child in the military, let alone two children. Their father was such a strong, stoic, no-nonsense guy. But he was also human, and Dale was an ass. Of course, he worried about his sons.
“I’ll be careful,” he stated firmly. “But I need to make sure this doesn’t happen again.”
Their conversation was interrupted when the doctor entered the room to discuss a detailed recovery plan. The man was optimistic but warned his father that it would be a slow process, starting with his release, which wouldn’t happen for a few more days. Dale listened intently, mentally preparing himself for the challenges ahead.
Samuel Taylor was stubborn and not one to sit idle. Ever. Yeah, this was not going to be easy.
As they spoke, Dale couldn’t help but feel a mix of emotions. Relief at seeing his father alive and frustration at the circumstances.
Foolish kids and firecrackers…
As soon as the doctor left the room, his dad exhaled slowly and sank back, his strength suddenly depleted as exhaustion crept in.
“Well, damn,” he grumbled. “I was hoping to leave this place today.”
Dale nodded. “I know, but the doctor made sense. And now we have a solid plan.”
“Yeah.” Sam sighed. “But it sounds like a long recovery and rehab, and you know patience with myself is not in my DNA.”
He chuckled. “True.”
The same went for Caspian. The apple didn’t fall far from the tree, not that Dale had a lot of patience either. However, of the three of them, he was more tolerant than the other two.
“A neighbor is feeding my dog at the house and the horses at the ranch,” his father stated, clearly more worried about his animals and his neighbor than himself. “Any chance you can do that now?”
“Absolutely,” he replied. “Leave it to me.”
Sam exhaled again. “Thanks, Dale. I appreciate it. And if you’d stay at my house in town, instead of the ranch, I’d appreciate that too,” he said, before supplying the address and directing him to grab the key from his belongings shoved in a closet across from the bed. “Ranger will be happy for the company. Gabe made sure to get him back to my house. My neighbor is supposed to feed and walk him, but I hate bothering anyone.”
Nothing new there. His father always drilled it into them to take care of their responsibilities and not push them onto someone else. Except for special circumstances like this, but now that he was home, he’d take care of the dog.
“No problem,” he reassured. “I’ll head there now and handle things. You just rest. I’m home now. We’ll get you healed and back on your horse soon.”
Sam smiled weakly, his eyes closing as fatigue took over. “I know we will, Son. I know we will.”
For several minutes, Dale sat by his father’s side, the steady beep of the monitors a comforting reminder of life. When he was certain his dad was in a deep sleep, he left the hospital and drove to the new address.
Traffic was light. It only took eight minutes to pull into the driveway of an attractive Craftsman-style house with an attached garage nestled on a quiet residential street. The front porch was welcoming, with tapered columns supporting theoverhanging roof, which provided a perfect spot for a pair of rocking chairs.
He’d never considered his father sedentary, but Lord knew the man deserved to slow his pace. After decades of ranching, even if it was a small operation, it’d still required long hours of backbreaking work. Sam Taylor had loved it. Thrived on the work. It’d been in his blood.
Too bad neither of his sons had harbored that passion. Their desire had always been to help people. Rescuing them. Protecting them.
Once his father was settled at home and started rehab on his shoulder, Dale was going to have to sit down and think hard on what the hell he was going to do for a living in Harland County. At the moment, though, that wasn’t a priority.
Dale got out of his truck, admiring the deep green exterior of the house and earth-tone trim around the windows and doors. The place gave off a warm and inviting feel, and he could see why his dad had been drawn to it.
He could also see his father’s handiwork in the front lawn. It was meticulously maintained, right down to the well-manicured shrubs that led up to the wide front steps. Then there was the door. Definitely Sam’s style. It was made of solid wood and stained in a medium hue, perfectly showcasing the grain.
It was also slightly ajar.
His heart rocked as his instincts immediately went on alert. Silently, he crept inside, ready for anything.
The sound of a dog barking met his ears as he surveyed the area.
An open floor plan seamlessly connected the living room, dining area, and kitchen. There were rich hardwood floors throughout and a lot of built-in cabinetry, showcasing timeless craftsmanship and attention to detail. The kitchen appeared to blend modern convenience and classic design, withquartz countertops, white shaker cabinets, and stainless-steel appliances.
And amidst it all, an intruder rifled through the fridge, completely oblivious to his presence.
