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relief,” Durk agreed.

      “I never thought it was a heart attack,” Sybil said. “But when I told Bessie I was having chest pains, she insisted on calling for an ambulance.”

      “Always better to err on the side of caution,” Dr. Preston said. “Chest pains are nothing to fool around with.”

      Sybil nodded. “I lost my husband to a heart attack almost eleven years ago.”

      “I’m sorry.” Dr. Preston handed the chart to Bill. “But that means you know how important cardiac care is.”

      Bill took the chart and left the room.

      Durk stepped to the side of the bed, leaned over and gave his aunt a peck on the cheek. She looked a bit frail and her thick black wig had twisted on her head so that it looked as if it were trying to crawl away.

      “When did the pains start?” Durk asked.

      “About an hour ago.”

      “And you were feeling okay before that?”

      “I haven’t been feeling great the last few days, but I haven’t really been sick, either—just tired and out of breath easily. Then, like I just explained to Dr. Preston, Bessie and I were walking to my car in the parking lot outside Neiman Marcus when all of a sudden I had stabbing pains in my chest. I told Bessie what was going on, and she called 911.”

      Durk turned to the doctor. “But you’re sure that wasn’t her heart?”

      “No. I’m only sure she wasn’t having a heart attack. The symptoms could have been caused by any number of things. We won’t know for certain until we run some tests. Bill’s arranging for those now.”

      “Pshaw. It was just indigestion,” Sybil said. “I don’t need any tests.”

      Durk took her hand in his. “I think we should leave that decision to Dr. Preston.”

      “A good plan,” the doctor agreed.

      “What kind of tests are we talking about?” Durk asked.

      “I’ve ordered a chest X-ray and some blood work for starters. Then we’ll work from there until we can pinpoint the problem.”

      “I’m already feeling much better,” Sybil insisted. She tried to sit up, but winced in pain and let her head fall back to the thin pillow.

      “I won’t have to stay the night, will I?” Sybil asked, though her tone was less argumentative than before.

      “Why don’t we decide that after I see the initial test results?”

      Sybil nodded in agreement but she looked worried and her breathing seemed shallow even to Durk. Someone should probably stay with her, but he doubted it would be him. Any other time, he’d easily be up to the task, but seeing Meghan in that condition had him so shaken it was difficult to focus on anyone else.

      “I’m going to step outside and call Mom,” he said. “She made me promise to let her know how you were the second I saw you.”

      “Tell Carolina there’s no use in her rushing up here. I’m fine,” Sybil said. “And there’s no reason for you to stay, either. I’m sure I can drive home.”

      “I’ll give Mom that message.” Which she’d immediately ignore. And then she’d question him about why his plans had changed and he wouldn’t be coming to the ranch—at least not tonight.

      Once he’d made the call to his mother and she’d declared she was on her way to the hospital, he walked back to the area where they’d taken Meghan. One of the nurses approached him.

      “Are you here with the patient who was assaulted?”

      “Meghan Sinclair?”

      “Yes.”

      “I didn’t come in with her, but she’s a friend and I’m greatly concerned about her.”

      “Good. Hopefully you can help us. It’s urgent that we get in touch with a family member.”

      Panic swept through him. “How serious is this?”

      “Her condition is still being assessed, but she’s unable to give us any medical history. We need to talk to someone who’ll know if she has any allergies or other medical conditions we should be aware of. And we need a next of kin to make medical decisions until she is able to do that for herself. Do you know how to reach Ms. Sinclair’s parents?”

      “Her parents are dead.”

      “What about siblings?”

      “She has a sister who lived in Connecticut,” he said. “I assume she still lives there.”

      “Can you give us the sister’s name and phone number?”

      “Meghan called her Lucy. She’s married, and I don’t know her last name or her phone number. I’m sure Meghan’s assistant, Ben Conroe, can give you everything you need.”

      “Do you have his phone number?”

      “Not off hand, but I can get it. In fact, he needs to be notified. I know he’d want to be here.”

      “Would he also have her medical insurance information?”

      “He’ll at least know who holds the policy.”

      “Then have him contact us at this number ASAP.” She handed him a business card for the trauma unit. “Tell him to ask for Jane. I’ll be here until midnight.”

      “I’ll get in touch with Ben,” Durk said, “as soon as you give me the honest truth about Meghan’s medical condition.”

      “I’m sorry, but since you’re not a family member, the only information I can give you is that she’s being treated.”

      Durk understood rules, but he’d never been too keen on following them. “I’m the only one here to make sure she’s taken care of. You want me to cooperate, then do the same,” he said.

      It was a bluff. He’d cooperate and do what was best for Meghan no matter what they did or didn’t tell him.

      “Wait here,” the nurse said. “I’ll see what I can do.”

      A couple of minutes later, she returned with a man in a white physician’s lab coat. The apprehension on the man’s face as he stuck out his hand was anything but reassuring.

      His handshake was firm as he introduced himself as Dr. Levy.

      “I’m Durk Lambert, and I appreciate you talking to me.”

      “I understand you’re a close friend of Ms. Sinclair,” the doctor said, his voice matter-of-fact.

      “Yes,” Durk agreed even though it was an exaggeration. “How serious are her injuries? I mean, are we talking critical?”

      “All I can tell you now is that her condition is being assessed.”

      “Exactly what does that entail?”

      “Examination, routine neurological tests and a CAT scan.”

      “Is she conscious?”

      “She’s alert, but exhibiting altered mental status.”

      “What does that mean?”

      “She’s confused. That frequently goes along with a concussion. But we do need to contact a family member. That’s the one thing you can do at this point to help your friend.”

      “I’ll take care of that,” Durk said. “In the meantime, I want to make certain that Meghan receives the best care possible, even if that means airlifting her to a different facility.”

      The doctor’s brows arched. “At your expense?”

      “Yes. I can sign whatever is needed.”

      “That’s

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