Hope.
I was feeling a flicker of hope.
And I was going to hold on to it as tightly as I could.
CHAPTER 2
June
Harmony Ranch, Texas
Three days later…
The butterflies of anxiety in my stomach morphed intoones of awe as I drank in the view of the hospital that would be my home for the next few months. It was like no other hospital I’d ever been in. The pamphlet about the trial explained how it was once a working ranch, until it was repurposed and was approved as a hospital many years ago. The drive up to the ranch on its own had seemed utopian. The driveway was neatly graveled, and trees lined the side of the road. I smiled when I saw in the fields that made up the property and the horses grazing in the grass paddocks.
I adored horses. Before my illness, I was a rider. When the pain in my bones and limbs became too much, I’d had to pull back. It broke my heart. I hadn’t visited the stables since. It was too painful to visit the place that had once provided so much peace and solitude for me. It was a slice of happiness that had been taken from me. But I couldn’t help the smile that etcheditself on my face as a chestnut gelding lifted his head at our car passing by.
My mama looked back at me, clearly seeing him too, and our eyes met. Her expression mirrored mine. The sun was high in the sky, and the Texas warmth wrapped around me as I opened my window and inhaled the close, humid air. It kissed my face, tiny droplets of heat penetrating my skin. My nerves abated and a serene feeling embraced me.
I saw picnic benches and comfortable sitting areas, stables and barbeque areas. Lights wrapped around the trees that I knew would look magical as dusk fell and the burnt-orange Texan sunset enrobed the sky.
This place was utterly beautiful.
We rounded the corner, and the building came into view. “Incredible,” I whispered. It was hard to believe that this place was a hospital. It was like something from a movie—a sprawling wooden ranch house, with brown window frames and a brown tin roof. The front entrance boasted large, rustic, wooden pillars and a wide wraparound porch. Rocking chairs were placed along it, which would allow me to do one of my very favorite things: rocking in a porch chair as the sun rose and fell. We had them at home, and a pang of homesickness washed through me, a sudden bout of fear following when I wondered if I would ever see it again.
I thought of our small, white home with its own porch and thick crop of trees to the side of it. The sound of the crickets at night, the water tower that could be seen just over the treetops, the stars that reigned above us like a million diamonds scattered in the sky.
I closed my eyes to fight away the fear. I tried my hardest to not let it in, but this wasit. This ranch—as majestic as it was—was all that stood between me and death. It was a surreal state to exist within, one foot in the afterlife and one still firmly rootedto this earth. Living with a terminal disease so far had felt like I would wake up one morning and thank the Lord that it was all just a bad dream. But every day I did wake, I remembered that it wasn’t a dream.
This was my life.
This was my fight. I was still in it. And I intended to win.
“Darlin’.” My daddy’s voice broke through my racing thoughts. I opened my eyes to see we had stopped in front of the ranch. It appeared even more imposing up close. Daddy opened the car door for me, and I stepped outside. I reached for my notebook that I always kept with me, for when inspiration struck.
I heard water bubbling and wondered if there was a pool. Probably. This place was incredible. There was a building off to the right side. “I think that’s where the parents stay,” Daddy said. I nodded, feeling relieved. I needed my parents close. I couldn’t do this without them.
Mama stood next to me and wrapped her arm around my shoulders just as the large doors to the ranch opened. A middle-aged woman with a riot of curls; stunning, deep-brown skin; and a bright-pink suit came walking toward us. Her smile was wide, and kindness radiated from her every movement. “Hey, y’all!” she greeted, then began to shake our hands. “Y’all must be the Scotts, and you must be June.”
“Yes, ma’am,” I replied.
She held my hand in both of hers. “I’m Neenee, the ranch’s director. And we are so happy to have you with us.”
“Thank you,” I said, as she gestured for us to follow her inside. “Y’all are the last to arrive. So I’ll show June to her room, then give you a tour. Then, Mom and Dad, I’m gonna need to steal you away to the office for some paperwork.”
“No problem,” Mama said, placing her arm around me once more. I knew my parents were nervous too, but we were alloptimistic. We had reviewed the findings of this new drug, and it was working for so many. More were cured than not. And for the first time in weeks, I had seen light shining in my mama’s eyes and my daddy standing just that little bit taller.
Neenee led us into the foyer, and I came to a dead stop. The walls were a deep mahogany, varnished and shining. The floors were too, with vintage-looking carpet and rugs adding a sense of comfort. A vast staircase was at the end of the hallway, sweeping and ornate. It broke into two at the top.
Stairs had become a little difficult for me. My illness had left me with an obvious limp in my right leg. Clearly seeing this on my face, Neenee said, “All of the bedroom suites are on the ground floor. Upstairs is reserved for the offices and the staff.” I smiled at her and reached up to make sure my headscarf was still in place. Today’s color was sage green, to match the dress I wore, over which was an oversized, cream-colored cardigan that kept away the chill. I felt the cold a lot these days, even when the Texas heat soared.
“Harmony Ranch is set on over one hundred acres, and the main property is just a fraction over twelve thousand square feet.” She stopped at an oil painting of an older man dressed in a suit. “The man who built it, Mr. Owens, lost his teen daughter to cancer, and after his death, he wished for this place to become a place of hope for teens with cancer to keep fighting. It took years to get the ranch approved as a hospital, but it has become a beacon of light to those who come to heal here since.”
A burst of warmth filled my veins followed by sorrow for the man who had lost his child. I discreetly looked to my mama and daddy and saw sadness on their faces. I knew losing me was their biggest fear.
“If you’ll come this way,” Neenee said, and took us toward the room I’d be staying in. I followed along and marveled at the decor—the intricate cornices, the artwork, the ornamentsmaking the vast ranch house feel so homey. Despite the size, there was a coziness to the place. It wasn’t sterile and clinical, like all the other hospitals and treatments centers I’d been in. This truly was a harmonious sanctuary. Nothing about it screamed “medical.”
We turned down three long hallways and stopped at a door where the room readDove. “This is your suite, June,” Neenee said. She opened the door, and we followed her inside.
