Chapter 6 - The Emergency at Sheridan
"Arthur Sterling," Richard breathed, stepping back, his voice dropping into a desperate attempt at professional camaraderie. "Arthur! Thank God you're here. You knew my father. You know this whole situation is completely out of hand. Daniel has taken advantage of my mother’s mental state. He took a cashier's check to Boulder and—"
"Silence, Richard," Sterling said.
The seventy-year-old attorney didn't raise his voice, but there was an ancient, terrifying weight to his words that instantly sucked the air out of the room. He walked inside, took off his Stetson, and handed it to one of the deputies who followed closely behind him.
"Deputy Miller," Sterling said without looking back. "Please escort Mr. Richard Harper, Mr. Eric Harper, Mrs. Diane Miller, and their associates off these premises immediately."
"Wait a minute!" Diane shrieked. "You can't do that! This is my mother's house!"
"This property," Sterling stated with surgical precision, "does not belong to your mother. It belongs to the Harper Family Preservation Trust, of which I am the managing institutional trustee. Evelyn Harper holds a life estate. None of you hold any title, tenancy, or right of access. Furthermore, you have forced entry, ransacked private property, and created a medical hazard for a terminal patient."
The two deputies stepped forward, their hands resting comfortably on their duty belts.
"Alright folks," Deputy Miller said, his Wyoming drawl flat and humorless. "You heard the counselor. Outside. Now."
"This isn't over!" Richard yelled, his voice cracking as the deputies firmly guided him toward the snowy porch. He turned his head back, glaring at me with eyes full of pure poison. "You hear me, Daniel? You won't see a single dollar of that money! I will tie this estate up in probate litigation until you are an old man! I will sue First National! I will sue Sterling! I will sue you into the dirt!"
"Move along, Mr. Harper," the deputy said, pushing him through the door into the freezing wind.
Within seconds, the blare of sirens cut through the woods as the county ambulance roared into the driveway, snow chains rattling against the frozen earth.
Paramedics burst through the door with a portable gurney, trauma kits, and an oxygen tank. I led them straight into the back bedroom.
For the next ten minutes, the cabin was a blur of frantic medical jargon, monitors beeping, and the sharp smell of rubbing alcohol. They stabilized Grandma Evelyn, secured an advanced oxygen mask over her face, and strapped her onto the gurney.
As they wheeled her down the splintered hallway, I walked beside her, holding her cold, papery hand.
Her eyes opened slightly behind the clear plastic mask. She looked at me, her gaze clear for just a single fraction of a second.
"I'm right here, Grandma," I whispered, leaning down. "I'm not leaving you."
Her fingers squeezed mine with surprising strength.
"Hospital," she breathed against the plastic. "Sterling... has... the reel."
"Don't worry about anything, Grandma. Just rest."
They loaded her into the back of the ambulance. I climbed into the passenger seat of Arthur Sterling's heavy four-wheel-drive Lincoln Navigator, leaving my battered Subaru behind in the snow.
The convoy sped toward Sheridan Memorial Hospital, red and blue lights painting the snow-laden pines in wild, rhythmic flashes.
The hospital waiting room was quiet, smelling of industrial floor wax and stale coffee.
For four agonizing hours, I sat on an uncomfortable vinyl chair while the pulmonary trauma team worked on Grandma behind closed double doors. Sterling sat beside me, his briefcase resting across his knees, silent as a statue.
At midnight, the emergency room doors swung open.
A tall doctor with dark circles beneath his eyes walked out, pulling his surgical mask down around his neck.
"Family of Evelyn Harper?"
I sprang to my feet. "I'm her grandson, Daniel."
The doctor gave me a tired, sympathetic smile. "We managed to clear her airways and stabilize her blood oxygen levels, Mr. Harper. The acute pulmonary edema has subsided. She is conscious, and she is resting comfortably in the ICU."
A shuddering wave of relief broke over me, nearly dropping me to my knees. "Can I see her?"
"Briefly," the doctor said. "She’s very weak. But before you go in, there’s an entire crowd of people in the main lobby demanding access. A man claiming to be her son is causing an absolute scene with hospital security."
Sterling stood up, smoothing the front of his suit.
May you like
"I will handle Mr. Richard Harper and his cohort, Doctor," Sterling said smoothly. "Daniel, go sit with your grandmother. When she is ready, let me know. There is business that must be concluded tonight."
***
