"I don't deserve it, Harley," I said, rubbing the back of my neck.
"Maybe, maybe not. That's not for me to judge. I only know who my friends are, and I help my friends. Owe you my life—owe Kira my life, too. Anything either of you ask, and I'm all in."
I cleared my throat, emotion suddenly surprising me. I was just so damned tired.
"My woman feels the same, too. You got me?"
"Uh . . ."
Harley chuckled. "Priscilla's one hell of a woman." He grinned.
Virgil lumbered in, interrupting us. "Hey Virgil," I said. Sugie was behind him.
"Hi, Mr. Hawthorn, sir." He smiled happily. "Picking grapes, making wine."
I smiled back. "Thank you, Virgil." I reached up and squeezed his shoulder. "You're a good man."
"José," I greeted when he, too, came through the door. "Let's eat."
As we headed toward the kitchen, Walter was coming down the stairs. He didn't look well, and the fact that he’d worked all day for me caused a wave of guilt to consume me. Christ, he was twice my age. I frowned as he grabbed for the railing, bringing one hand to his chest. "Walter?" I asked.
He made a choking sound and pitched forward. I lunged for him, breaking his fall with my body. I heard Charlotte cry out behind me and struggled to sit upright with Walter's weight on top of me.
"Turn him over," I heard Harley instruct and Walter's weight was quickly lifted off me.
Everything seemed to slow, voices coming from underwater, the sound of my heart thumping loudly in my ears. I heard José on the phone with 911 as I kneeled over Walter. He was gasping for air, his hand still over his heart as Charlotte and I kneeled over him. "Help's coming," I croaked, my chest filled with fear.
Charlotte was crying silently as she rubbed his hair. He seemed to be trying to say something, first to her and then to me, but no words were emerging, only gasps and grunts for air. Finally, he reached for my hand, squeezing it tightly in his as he choked out, "Like . . . my . . . own son."
My heart squeezed so tightly in my chest that I gasped for air myself.
"Don't talk," Charlotte said. "And don't you dare leave me. Don't you dare, you stubborn old goat."
Walter let out one final gasp and collapsed, only to lie still and silent. Panic prickled my skin. My breath came out in sharp exhales. I heard one word being repeated again and again. "No, no, no." I finally realized it was my own terrified voice pleading the word like a desperate prayer.
**********
The hospital room was dim and silent, the early glow of dawn filtering through the blinds, the steady beat of Walter's heart being sung by the heart monitor next to where he lay. I sat hunched over in a chair next to his bed, my elbows on my knees, my head in my hands. Charlotte had gone home several hours ago to rest and feed Sugie. She'd wanted to spend the night, but there wasn't an extra bed anywhere in the hospital and it wasn't likely Walter would wake during the night, even though he was now stable. So I'd volunteered to stay, telling her my back was younger, and I'd call her if he woke before she arrived in the morning.
Bringing one hand to the back of my neck, I massaged the tight muscles.
"I hope you don't mind me saying," I snapped my head up at Walter's voice, "that you look like hell, sir."
I released a breath. "When has what I minded ever made a bit of difference with you, Walter?" I asked, attempting to conceal the grin that wanted to break free.
"Never," he admitted.
I stood up and poured him a glass of water from the pitcher on the table next to his bed and helped him hold the cup as he took several long drinks. Laying his head back on the pillow, he regarded me. I sat back down on the chair and pulled it a bit closer to his bed. Pulling out my phone, I said, "It's just like you to pull dramatics like you did last night. I'll let Charlotte know—"