CHAPTER THREE
The old place felt chill as he stepped inside, kicking off the dust from his boots. Hanging up his jacket on the hat stand in the hallway, he moved to the foot of the stairs and looked to the top. “Pa? Pa, are you awake? Got some news for you. From town.” He started to climb then stopped as Marta, his father’s loyal Mexican housekeeper, appeared from the rear kitchen, face screwed up in anguish.
“Oh, Señor Reuben,” she said, words laced with tears, “it is Señor Martin, he is not eating and seems so weak. I wanted to call for the doctor, but I was too frightened to leave him.” She broke down, and Cole went to her, holding her tight. Pressing her face against his chest, she sobbed uncontrollably.
Waiting for the right moment before he released her, Cole drew in a deep breath
