UNBROKEN PROMISE

~71~ Pneumonia

Logan woke with a start, his neck stiff and aching from where he had slumped over the bed. His first instinct was to look at Oma, and his stomach twisted the second he did.

Her face was flushed now, the paleness from before replaced with a deep, fevered warmth. A thin sheen of sweat glistened on her forehead, and her breathing had turned shallow, uneven.

Panic surged in his chest.

He pressed his hand against her forehead—too hot. Much too hot.

Mama Becca, who had been dozing lightly in the chair by the fire, stirred when she heard his sharp intake of breath. Her keen eyes landed on Oma, and in an instant, she was up and moving, reaching for the damp cloth on the nightstand.

“She’s burnin’ up,” Logan said, his voice tight, hoarse from sleep.

Mama Becca didn’t say anything right away. She simply pressed the cloth against Oma’s skin, then let out a sharp breath. “Fever’s taken hold.”

Logan swallowed hard. “But she was alright last night....What do we do?”

Mama Becca shot him a look. “Ain’t much we can do but try to bring it down. Keep her cool. Get some fresh water. But—” she hesitated, pressing her lips together. “We need the doctor.”

Logan was already standing before she even finished speaking.

The blizzard had raged through the night, but morning had come, and though the sky was still heavy with gray clouds, the worst of the storm had passed.

He grabbed his coat from the chair, shrugging it on quickly. “I’ll go.”

Mama Becca frowned. “Logan, town’s still a ways out, and that snow’s deep—”

“I’ll make it,” he said firmly, grabbing his gloves.

Mama Becca didn’t argue. She simply pressed a fresh cloth to Oma’s forehead and gave him a nod. “Hurry.”

Logan didn’t waste another second.

He stormed out into the freezing air, the cold biting at his skin the second he stepped outside. The ranch was buried beneath thick layers of snow, the landscape eerily quiet after the chaos of the storm.

The barn was just ahead, the horses restless inside. Logan moved quickly, saddling up his best horse—a sturdy bay with strong legs built for rough terrain. He threw himself into the saddle, gripping the reins tightly as he urged the horse forward.

The snow was deep, slowing his pace, but he pressed on. The doctor’s office in town was at least an hour’s ride, maybe longer given the storm’s aftermath, but Logan didn’t care.

He wasn’t going to lose her.

Not now. Not after everything.

As the ranch faded behind him and the endless stretch of snow covered land unfolded ahead, Logan leaned forward, urging the horse into a faster pace.

Hold on, sweetheart, he thought, gritting his teeth against the wind.

I’m comin’ back for you.

-----

The ride back to the ranch was brutal. Logan’s fingers were numb from gripping the reins too tightly, his heart pounding against his ribs with each gallop of his horse. The doctor rode beside him, bundled against the cold, his medical bag strapped securely to his saddle.

By the time they reached the house, Logan barely waited for the horse to stop before he was off, landing heavily in the snow and striding toward the front door. He flung it open as he rushed inside.