Page 60 of Meet Me at Sunset Cove

The call ended, and Hunter dialed one of the site foremen. “Hey, Chuck. Have you seen my dad today?”

“No. He hasn’t been around yet.”

A knot began to form in Hunter’s stomach. “All right, thanks. Let me know if he shows up.”

Without hesitation, Hunter switched on his turn signal and veered off, pointing his truck in the direction of his father’s house.

* * *

Fear coiled through his chest as Hunter hung up another dead-end call, his tires crunching as he turned onto the street leading to the small house on the edge of town.

“Come on, Dad. Where are you?” he whispered as he pulled into the drive.

Apprehension and relief fought for purchase in his head as he spotted his father’s truck in the driveway. At least he was home. That was a start. But it wasn’t like him not to show up for work.

His dad didn’t take personal days. He didn’t even take sick days.

Hunter slammed the door behind him as he climbed out of his truck.

“Dad?” he called out as he approached the front door. “It’s Hunter. You in there?”

He gripped the handle and opened the door.

“Dad?”

A faint sound from down the hall caught his attention. Hunter rounded the corner, his heart pounding against his chest.

The door to the master bedroom hung open and he pushed it aside to find his dad, sitting on the edge of his bed, his hand on his chest, hunched over and visibly struggling to breathe. He looked pale, his eyes widening as he spotted Hunter in the doorway.

“Dad!” Hunter rushed into the room, gripping his father’s shoulders. “Are you okay?”

He tried to wave Hunter off, but the gesture was weak. “I’m fine,” he wheezed. “I was just…just about to head to work.”

Hunter shook his head, placing a steadying hand on his father’s shoulder. “For Pete’s sake, Dad. You’re not okay. Just look at you. You can barely breathe.”

His father attempted to stand, but his legs wobbled beneath him. Hunter quickly supported him, easing him back onto the bed.

“It’s nothing,” his father insisted between labored breaths. “Just…a little chest cold. No sense crying about it.”

Hunter felt a surge of frustration and fear. “This isn’t ‘nothing,’ Dad. How long have you been like this?”

His father avoided his gaze, a telltale sign he was hiding something. “Just…just this morning. I’ll be fine.”

But Hunter could see the truth in his father’s eyes—this wasn’t a new problem. How long had his dad been struggling? How had he not noticed?

“We’re going to the hospital,” Hunter said firmly, gripping his dad under the arm as he helped him to his feet. “And don’t even think about arguing. I’ll drag you if I need to.”

“I could take you,” his dad gruffed.

“Not like this you couldn’t.”

* * *

Hunter paced another lap around the sterile hospital room at Port Joseph Medical Center, the rhythmic nagging of the heart monitor filling his ears. His dad, clad in a patterned hospital gown, scowled from the bed, arms crossed over his chest, as though Hunter was the one in the wrong here.

“Don’t look at me like that,” Hunter said.

His dad harrumphed. “This is ridiculous. I’m fine.”

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