by Ava Miles
“Arthur, what’s wrong?” Clara asked, bent over him.
“Can’t breathe,” he hissed out, his fist over his heart.
He smacked it for good measure, but it didn’t stop the pain or help him breathe. The pain shot down his arm, and it went numb. God, he was having a heart attack.
“Dammit! Arthur Hale, you listen to me.”
Strong hands gripped his face, and for a moment, he focused on her. There were tears in her eyes.
“You aren’t going to die on me. Not when I’ve only just found you again. Do you hear me? Hargreaves!”
He heard someone stomping across the wooden floors. A cold hand touched his face.
Then the pain in his chest surged again, and he felt nothing.
Chapter 33
Caroline was humming away as she prepared dinner for her and J.T.
When she’d suggested it—saying it wouldn’t be anything fancy, only taco salad—he’d eagerly accepted her invitation. Today in Lucy’s office, she’d felt cherished. She’d felt heard. And J.T. had confirmed that he was as scared of losing her as she was of losing him. Outside forces were pulling them apart, and she didn’t like that one bit, but Cynthia would only succeed if they let her.
Fortunately, Clara was cooperating regarding the lost Rembrandt. Well, mostly. She had strong opinions about what she planned to tell the media. J.T. had made some suggestions, but she’d remained firm. Honesty was the best policy, she’d said, and she’d kept the supposed Rembrandt under wraps to protect it from her husband. If his family didn’t like that, Clara had said, they could put it where the sun didn’t shine.
God, that woman had spunk.
When she heard a knock on the door, she untied her apron and hung it over a kitchen chair. Adjusting her skirt and blouse, she walked swiftly to the door and opened it. Trevor stood on the other side, his expression grim.
“Oh, hello,” she said, leaning forward and kissing his cheek. “If you’re looking for J.T., he’s not here yet.”
“I know,” he said. “I tracked his phone. He drove to Aspen to buy you all twenty-four flavors of Paradise Bakery’s famous gelato for dinner.”
One of her sisters must have told him Cappuccino Toffee Crunch was her favorite. Ah…
“You haven’t checked your phone, have you?”
Tension filled her. That look. Something had happened. “No, I turned the ringer off when I started dinner. It’s been a day. People have been calling nonstop about the Rembrandt, and I’m ignoring them like J.T. suggested.”
She didn’t like that approach, but he wasn’t wrong. It wasn’t like they could give out more details about the Rembrandt in advance of the press conference.
“Has something happened?” she asked.
“Yes,” he said gravely. “Uncle Arthur appears to have had a heart attack.”
She gripped his jacket. “What?”
He took her arm and led her inside, closing the door. “Meredith called me from the hospital.”
“Oh, God, not this!” she said, rushing to where she’d left her phone. “They called me, and I missed it.”
She noted the calls and texts from various family members and felt tears gather in her eyes. One in particular from Andy caught her eye. Come quickly. He’s not well.
Andy was a doctor. This was terrible news. She had to get moving.
“How could this have happened? That man is invincible.” To her, he always had been—no matter how old he’d become.
Trevor came and put his arms around her. “Look, I know you’re upset, but we have a serious situation on our hands in addition to that wonderful man being in the hospital.”
What could be more important than that? “I need to go to the hospital,” she said, pushing away from him. “Have you reached J.T.?”
“No, I told Meredith to instruct everyone not to call him,” Trevor said.
“Why would you do that?” she asked, staring at him in confusion. “J.T. would want to be there.”
He sliced his hand through the air. “Don’t you think I know that? Listen, I talked to Aunt Clara. She was with him when he had the attack.”
Her heart started to pound in her ears. “What did she say?”
“From what she could hear, he got a call from his banker. It seems that someone in the front office decided to call in his loan. Caroline, he has thirty days to pay three million dollars.”
Oh, no. It couldn’t be. “You don’t think it’s Cynthia?” Surely the woman wouldn’t stoop this low.
He cursed under his breath. “Remember what J.T. told you about Cynthia and her father switching banks? It didn’t feel right.”
She nodded, feeling short of breath.
“It’s the same bank,” he continued. “Carlyle’s. And they’re going down for this. Hard.”
She watched him in shock as Trevor pressed the bridge of his nose. That woman had intentionally gone after a wonderful old man. How could she?
“There’s more… Uncle Arthur mentioned in passing that the paper lost its biggest advertiser, and when I heard about his heart attack, I realized it happened the day after the Op-Ed was published. I looked up the company before I came here, and the president is close friends with Cynthia’s father.”
This couldn’t be happening. “I can’t believe it.”
“I want to kick myself for not putting it together earlier, but now it doesn’t matter. The damage is done. You know what this means, right?” he asked her, dropping his hand.
“Cynthia’s going to pay for this—like you said,” she said, heat raging through her system. “She went too far.”
Trevor walked over to her and put his hands on her shoulders. “Yes, she’s going to pay, but I need your help.”
“Do you need me to drive the getaway car?”
His laugh was harsh. “No, I need you to help me with J.T.”
Suddenly, it all crashed into place in her mind. Fresh horror flooded her. “He’s going to blame himself for this.”
“Yes,” Trevor said, “and I’m not sure he can come back from this one.”
Neither was she.
Chapter 34
The last thing J.T. expected to see was Caroline’s stricken face when she opened the door.
He slowly lowered the Sub-Zero cooler filled with the gelato he’d made a special trip for. “What’s wrong?”
“You should come in,” she said simply and let him enter.
His first thought was that she was going to break up with him. Then he smelled Mexican food and thought, nah. She wouldn’t have invited him over for dinner, and actually cooked, to break his heart.
“Caroline, what’s going on?” he asked, following her into the kitchen and setting the cooler down.
When he looked up and saw his brother, he stopped short. He’d known Trev his whole life, and he’d never seen his face such a sickly shade of gray.
“What is it?” he asked his twin.
Trev walked toward him slowly, and he felt Caroline wrap her arms around his waist. His whole body froze up, sensing the need to protect himself from whatever they were about to say.
“Uncle Arthur had a heart attack tonight,” Trev told him. “Aunt Clara and her butler managed to give him an aspirin and call an ambulance, but he’s in critical condition.”
His own heart turned to stone in his chest. No, not his idol. Not Uncle Arthur. He’d only just gotten him back in his life. He’d thought there’d be more time. “We need to go to the hospital.”
He realized they’d been waiting for him, and gratitude filled him. It must have been hard for them to stay here when all they wanted to do was to be with the man they all loved.
He pulled away, but Caroline clung to him, refusing to let him go. She was taking it hard, and he put his arms around her. Then he met his Trevor’s gaze, and he knew there was more to it. He wanted to throw off the arms holding him in place and bury his head in the sand. He couldn’t take it.
“There’s no easy way to say this,” Trev said,
“so I’m saying it straight out. Carlyle Bank phoned Uncle Arthur tonight and called in his loan. He has thirty days to pay back a sizeable amount or the bank takes over The Western Independent. Not that we’re going to let that happen, of course.”
His mind went blank, like when he entered a room and couldn’t remember why he’d gone there. Then his brain fixated on one word—Carlyle—and he put the puzzle pieces together.
“Cynthia.”
He would have stumbled backward if their hands hadn’t been on him.
“And the paper’s biggest advertiser—the one Uncle Arthur mentioned losing the other day—is connected to Newhouse Senior. J.T., I’m sorry I didn’t make the connection earlier.”
Who could have? This was a whole new level of revenge. A huge well of pain surged up, crashing through him like a category three hurricane.
“No!” he cried out.
He shoved them away and took a few shaky steps. He needed space. He couldn’t breathe.
Cynthia’s last words came to mind. Coup de grâce. She’d delivered a death blow to a man he loved and admired, a man who’d helped him fight for the museum.
Now Arthur Hale was in danger of losing his life.
“It’s all my fault,” he said softly. “I did this—”
“No, J.T.,” Caroline said, coming over to him. “It’s not. It’s hers. She’s a horrible, horrible woman.”
God, he couldn’t believe she could be this cruel. “She couldn’t have come up with a worse punishment,” he said, feeling lightheaded. “No one is safe around me.”
“Stop this!” Trev shouted, stalking over to him. “I mean it, J.T. We need you to focus.”
“I hurt everyone I love,” he said, a strange numbness coating him now.
“You stop talking like this,” Trev shouted. “Dammit! Don’t you see? You’re falling into her hands again.”
Right, Cynthia. She’d wanted him to crawl, to hurt, to give up.
She’d finally gotten her wish.
He stalked to the front door and heard Caroline and Trevor behind him. Fumbling with his keys, he managed to get into his car and lock the door before they reached him. Trev beat on the window, Caroline crying beside him.
“Don’t do this, J.T.,” Caroline called, putting her hand on the glass.
She didn’t understand. He had to protect her now, before it was too late. What he wanted didn’t matter anymore. This was the only thing he could do for her. He turned the car on and sped off.
His first stop was the hospital. He had to see Uncle Arthur. Make sure he remembered just how much of a liability he was. The corridor was crowded with the family he’d come to love when he arrived on the second floor.
Jill was crying when she hugged him, and so were her two small daughters.
“Thank God your aunt was with him, J.T.,” she told him. “Andy says so much damage was prevented because she gave him that aspirin right away.”
Brian was beside her, rubbing away his own tears. “He’s strong, Jillie. He’s going to make it and yell at us all for making such a fuss.”
“I’m sorry,” he whispered as he walked past them. “I’m so sorry.”
God, there was such pain here, and he’d caused it.
Caroline’s mother kissed him on the cheek, muttering something he couldn’t make out. Then Moira and Natalie were putting their arms around him, but he pressed on to the door of Arthur’s hospital room. Aunt Clara saw him and stood up from her position in the corner.
She came to him, and he felt her hand on his arm as he looked at his beloved mentor. Tubes were in his nose, winding around him like vines. IVs were strapped to his arms. He was hooked to machines beeping and wheezing, as if he needed them to keep going. His normally ruddy color was sallow green now, and the wrinkles on his face seemed to have fallen inches more from the stress. The great Arthur Hale looked nothing like the vibrant man he knew and loved.
This is what he’d done. He’d been the one to bring this disaster home to Dare Valley. If he’d never come here, Cynthia would have had no reason to target these people.
Meredith and Tanner were holding Uncle Arthur’s hands, one on each side. Their faces were etched with worry.
“I’m sorry,” he said softly. “Please tell him.”
God, he hoped Uncle Arthur would wake to hear those words. His mind spun. What if he didn’t? He could die. People did die from heart attacks, especially when they were elderly. How could he live with that? The answer was simple. He couldn’t.
Aunt Clara tightened her hold on him. “Don’t you dare go blaming yourself for this.”
He untangled himself from her grasp. “It’s too late.”
He’d tried everything else to thwart Cynthia. Walked away from his career and his family’s company. Given away the bulk of his money. And it still hadn’t kept the people he loved safe.
The only thing left for him to do was disappear.
Chapter 35
When Caroline reached the hospital with Trevor, they discovered J.T. was already gone.
She tried his cell again, but he didn’t answer it. Trev was doing the same, cursing under his breath.
“I don’t like this,” Trev said. “He’s never looked…”
Caroline heard his voice break and put her arm around him. She knew what he meant. The young, vital man she’d come to love had seemed to fade away before her eyes. He’d looked haunted…no, broken.
Moira found her and pulled her aside, Chase hovering with concern. “Are you okay?”
“No,” she said, letting her phone finally fall back into her purse. It was useless. He wouldn’t answer them. “This is horrible! I hate that woman! I hate her!”
A nurse shushed her, but she didn’t care. That woman was out there, walking around in her furs or sipping champagne after devastating two men Caroline loved dearly. It wasn’t right. How could one person dish out so much hate and punishment?
Natalie and Blake appeared by her side, and Matt and Jane and Andy and Lucy closed in around her too. Everyone was trying to comfort her, but as much as she loved them, she doubted anything could help.
“Find her somewhere quiet, Moira,” Trevor said. “Chase, I need to speak with you.”
Her siblings drew her toward the hospital chapel, and then her mother was easing her into a chair. April Hale sat beside her and wrapped her up in a tight hug.
“Oh, Mom,” she said, and the simple warmth of her mother’s embrace broke the dam of her sorrow.
She sobbed her heart out. Every now and then, someone would press a tissue in her hands. All the while she thought of Uncle Arthur and J.T. and all the pain Cynthia Newhouse had wrought on the world in a hollow attempt to cure her own broken heart.
“I just don’t understand it,” she cried.
Then a strong hand touched her knee, and she felt her mother shift to the side. Sniffling, she looked down to see Chase kneeling in front of her. His face was drawn like everyone else’s, but the fire in his eyes told her he knew the whole tale. While tears rolled down her face, he told the rest of her family what had happened.
“We’ve got Arthur covered financially, of course,” he said softly, “although his pride won’t like it. Meredith and Tanner told him so. It’s well known people who are unconscious can hear. Caroline, he’s going to get well. Arthur Hale wouldn’t let anyone or anything put him down like this. Right?”
She nodded, wiping her nose. “He’d be all the more determined to recover.”
Chase simply said, “And we’ll talk some sense into J.T. It’s a huge shock. Of course he feels awful.”
She wanted to agree, but… “You didn’t see him. Chase, he—”
“I’ll talk to him again,” Trevor said, coming up behind Chase. “I always get through to him—even if it takes a while. Besides, I have you as my ally now.”
Even so, she wasn’t sure it would be enough.
“He’s awake,” she heard Andy announce from the doorway.
“Thank God!” she crie
d, feeling more tears well.
“See,” Moira said with a nudge, “it’s like Chase said. Nothing will get him down.”
“He’s one of the toughest men you’ll ever meet,” her mom said. “We can count on that.”
She could only nod as she went to see Uncle Arthur with the rest of the family.
His eyes were barely open, and his mouth was slack, but Uncle Arthur scanned the room as she and the rest of them crowded in, something Andy said he’d allow only for a few minutes.
“You look like you’re attending my funeral,” he rasped. “Trust me, this isn’t going to finish me off.”
“Dad and Mom are driving up from Arizona and want you to know how much they love you,” Meredith said, kneeling beside the bed.
Caroline imagined Uncle Alan and Aunt Linda were breaking all the speed limits. Her uncle had suffered a heart attack a few years ago, so he had to be especially worried about his father.
“My boy knows what I’m going through.”
“Save your strength, Grandpa.”
“I have reserves,” he said in that same voice. “Besides, I have to stay around. Can’t let the bank have my baby.”
“No one is going to take our paper,” Meredith said in a harsh tone.
“They sure as hell won’t,” Tanner said, putting his hand on his wife’s shoulder. “You have our word on that.”
“Dammit, Grandpa,” Jill said, coming over to where Meredith was standing. “You’re all making me wish I had black ink in my veins.”
“Ah, Jillie,” he said with a slow smile, “you make me laugh. That’s more than enough.”
Their solidarity prompted more tears in the room, and Caroline watched as Clara came to the other side of the bed. She sat in the chair Meredith had vacated and took Uncle Arthur’s hand.
“The paper isn’t in jeopardy,” she told him, “because you’re going to let me give you the money. I’m pulling rank on you, Trevor, as your elder.”
Caroline watched as his mouth tipped up. “We’ll talk it over later, Aunt.”
