Hannah nodded and rested her head on his shoulder in a trusting gesture, which made his chest tighten anew. Jesus, if he lost her… Cold sweat ran down between his shoulder blades, and he adjusted their position so that his girl was now sitting on his lap. Raised eyebrows from the crone across the coffee table, and a murmured protest from Hannah. He ignored both, and once Hannah was comfortably settled in his arms, he rested his chin on her head and addressed the woman scribbling into her notepad.
“Make this quick, will you? You can see how ill my wife is. I’m sure there must be rules against barging into someone’s house and interrogating them, when that person is ill.”
Hannah shook her head and tried to say something, but Logan placed his finger over her lips to stop her.
“Hush, baby, no more talking. Just rest. I’m sure I can answer all the questions, Ms.—” He paused and raised an eyebrow in query at the woman across from them.
“Mrs. Offrey, and please rest assured that I’m not here to interrogate anybody. Believe it or not, I’m on your side.” She frowned at Logan’s snort in answer, and Hannah tensed in his arms.
“Please, Logan, just listen to her. I’m sure…” Another coughing fit shook her small frame, and Logan tightened his hold on her until it passed. Then he grasped her chin to tilt it up and brushed his lips over hers. Fuck the audience, he needed that connection right now, to feel her tentative smile at his actions, and to know she was with him. He’d doubted that at times over the last few weeks.
Oh, in bed, at least, she was just as responsive as she’d always been, but when she didn’t think he was looking he’d noticed the inherent sadness that clung to Hannah like an invisible cloak of impending doom. It made him uneasy. Logan wasn’t one to second-guess his actions, but he found himself doing that more and more. It wasn’t a feeling he relished, because the world just didn’t seem right when Hannah wasn’t happy. Fuck knew why that bothered him as much as it did, but he needed her to be happy.
So, he stopped the angry words aimed at this Mrs. Offrey—words which were burning a hole in his gut, and would no doubt earn him another black mark—and nodded at Hannah.
“Fine, I’m listening. Mrs. Offrey, explain to me how you’re on our side. All I see is a woman looking into my private life and making assumptions.” Hannah tensed again, and Logan scrubbed a hand over his face. Grief, he was tired. Neither one of them had slept well in days, ever since Rhia had first fallen ill, and now this shit.
To give the social worker credit, she didn’t appear to take offense at his growled words. A small smile played around her lips, and she nodded.
“I’m only doing my job, Mr. Bryce, and an intrusion into your privacy is an unfortunate aspect of this.”
Logan barked a short laugh in answer to that matter of fact statement.
“Maybe you need to find another job then.”
Mrs. Offrey inclined her head, and a sliver of genuine amusement showed in her gray eyes.
“Believe me, I hear that a lot. And at times, I do wish I had a different job, but the children keep me going. Someone has to look out for their bests interests and—”
“Don’t you think I know that? Why the fuck do you think I took Rhia under my care after what my dick of a brother did? She’s my goddaughter, and I…” Jeez, why was this so difficult to put into words? Hannah’s small hands snaked around his neck, and she kissed his clenched jaw.
“It’s all right, Logan, we know you love her.”
It was on the tip of his tongue to refute that notion. Love didn’t exist, did it? He cared for Rhia, of course, he did. She was part of his family, his flesh and blood, so to speak, but he’d taken her on out of a sense of duty. Out of guilt over his brother’s actions, not because he loved her. His life had been going along just fine without the added complication of a little traumatized girl.
Mrs. Offrey scribbled something else in her notepad, and nodded.
“I must say the change in Rhia since she has been placed with you has been remarkable. She really is a delightful little girl. I was very impressed with how much more confident she was when I visited her at her nursery. So, you see, I’m not here to find fault with your parenting. It’s clear to me that you love your niece and your wife.” Hannah tensed in his arms, and he scowled at the woman making these ridiculous assumptions. Not that she took any notice, just prattled on. “So that’s a very good start, but I need to cross all the T’s and dot the I’s, especially as this has now turned into an adoption case.”
Still reeling from the woman’s assumption that he was in love with Hannah, he almost missed that last part of her statement.
“Excuse me, what?” He grimaced at the hoarse quality of his voice, and Hannah struggled upright. Clearly this was news to her, too.
“Yes, as of yesterday, your brother renounced all of his parental rights.” Hannah gasped and slid off his lap as Logan shot to his feet.
“The fuck he did? I’m gonna kill him for sure, this time.” Hands fisted by his side, he paced to and fro in his living room, as the red mist descended. Too late he noticed the deathly quiet which had descended upon the room.
Hannah didn’t look at him, and the social worker… fuck, fuck, fuck. He was ruining this.
“Daddy Logan?” Rhia’s sleepy, hesitant voice pulled him back from the brink, and he forced a smile on his face for her benefit. With her dark curls all tousled from sleep, her trusty stuffed rabbit under one arm she stood in the doorway, thumb in mouth looking at him.
“Hey, munchkin, you awake?”
She nodded, popped her thumb out, and looked at Mrs. Offrey.
“Mummy Hannah sick, so Daddy Logan and I gonna look after her.”
“I’m glad to hear that, little one.” Mrs. Offrey smiled at Rhia and patted the seat next to her. “Why don’t you sit down with us? We were just talking about you.”
Rhia screwed up her little nose and made her way across the room. She didn’t sit next to the social worker though, but threw her little arms around Hannah instead, and hugged her close. Something inside Logan’s chest cracked open seeing those two heads together. He tried to rub the ache away, but it wasn’t working.
Maybe he was having a heart attack. Wouldn’t that be the icing on the fucking cake of his life? Rhia whispered something to Hannah that he couldn’t catch. Whatever it was had to do with him because both of his girls looked his way. Hannah shook her head.
“Of course not, Rhia.”
“What are you two whispering about this time?” He aimed for a light tone but his voice came out cracked, and he frowned. What the fuck was that about? He was losing the plot.
“Yes, I would like to hear that, too.”
Hannah glanced at Mrs. Offrey when the other woman sent that query into the room and frowned.
“It’s nothing, really.”
“Little dove?” This time he had no problems at all to project his voice with all the authority he was going for. Probably far too much of his remaining anger showed, because that damn social worker started scribbling in her notepad again.
Hannah sighed, and hugged Rhia closer.
“Rhia just asked me if you were angry because she gave me her nasty germs.”
Logan reared back and shook his head.
“Of course not, munchkin.” He stepped over to them and ruffled Rhia’s curls, before he held his arms out. After a momentary hesitation Rhia all but jumped at him. Hannah collapsed back against the settee, and his chest started to ache again. Maybe he should see the doctor and get himself checked out. This couldn’t be normal.
“Not your fault at all, but those pesky germs. Besides, you do a fantastic job helping me look after Hannah, and you know what? We really ought to tuck her back up in bed. Gonna help me do that, munchkin?”
“K.” Rhia squirmed to be put down, and pulled at Hannah’s hands to get her off the settee the minute her little feet hit the carpet.
“Come on, Mummy.”
Mrs. Offrey gasped, Hannah’s eyes went wi
de, and Logan’s damn heart felt like it was about to burst out his chest bone. The only one who didn’t seem at all perturbed by what she’d just said was Rhia herself.
“Daddy, help me.”
Another punch to the gut, right there.
“You heard Rhia, Mr. Bryce. Do take care of your wife. I have all I need for today, anyway. Regarding the other matter, we were discussing before…” She paused and pulled a leaflet out of her thick file. “This will explain what will happen next. Also, the person in question has stressed that the child this concerns ought to stay where she is.”
Logan shut his eyes briefly, and when he opened them again, it was to see the other woman smiling at the three of them.
“There is still a lot of red tape to wade through, and evidence to collect, but I’m reasonably certain this matter will be resolved with the best interests of the child in mind, and that will always be a place where she is loved and cared for.”
Mrs. Offrey stood up, gathered up her belongings, and extended her hand. This time Logan took it.
“It was enlightening to meet you in person, Mr. Bryce. Mrs. Bryce, I hope you feel better soon.” She smiled at Hannah and then got to her haunches to address Rhia.
“You look after your new mummy now, won’t you, sweetheart?”
“Yes, Miss.” Rhia mumbled her reply, and Mrs. Offrey straightened up.
“Right, I’ll see myself out. Good luck, all of you.”
With that she strode from the room and it was only with the click of the front door heralding her departure that it shook Logan out of his temporary stupor.
“Right, you heard the lady. Let’s take care of you, Mrs. Bryce.”
Chapter Eleven
Hannah was dying. In fact, she had to be dead already and burning in hell. That was the only explanation for the shivers that wracked her body, the stabbing pain in her throat, and the way she was coughing her lungs up. Then again, would she have need for lungs if she was dead? And would it hurt this much to breathe?
She forced an eyelid open and promptly shut it again. Hmm, maybe not hell. Surely that would be dark and red, not this bright light that increased the pounding in her head. From somewhere a deep voice registered, and that annoying beep which sounded like a jackhammer in her head got faster, more insistent. She whimpered at the pain.
Make it stop. Please make it stop.
“Nurse, get your ass in here now. She’s waking up, and she’s in pain.”
That voice again, rough, gravelly, with that deep command which sent a flurry of activity around her. The hairs on her arms rose in response to the air displacement around her. Maybe she was in heaven, and she was floating? She flinched as something cool touched her forehead, and tried to turn away, but that just made her head thump even more.
“Hush, little dove, lie still. Let the nurse take care of you. You’ll feel better soon.”
That sounded like Logan, but that made even less sense. If it was him, he didn’t sound like himself at all, all choked up and just, well odd, as though he cared, and she knew he didn’t. Not in the way she cared about him, not in the way she needed him to. Tears rose behind her closed eyelids, as she drifted back off to sleep. Every time she struggled back to consciousness that crushing weight on her chest got heavier, as she recalled what led up to her being here, in this hospital bed. She finally realized that’s where she was, hooked up to machines and with oxygen tracks under her nose. Hospital made so much more sense than dying. If only she could remember why she was here. She’d been ill, she remembered that. Rhia’s virus, the visit by the social worker. Logan’s fury at hearing his brother had to all intents and purposes abandoned Rhia, and his utter bafflement when she’d said he loved Rhia.
Hannah woke up with a start, silent tears running down her face. That horrible weight on her chest had gone, at last, but her heart was breaking in two.
With a clear mind came the realization what she had to do. To stay in this marriage, when Logan would never return her love, it hurt too damn much. Rhia was getting too attached to her as it was. That moment she called her Mummy…
Priceless and yet so painful, because she could never be her mummy. She would have to end this charade. Oh, as far as the courts were concerned, they would stay married. There was no way she would jeopardize his chances of gaining full custody of Rhia, but she couldn’t and wouldn’t live with him anymore. More useless tears spilled out of her eyes, and she made an ineffective swipe at them with her hand. Hard to do with the cannula stuck in the back of it. She followed the line leading out of it and forgot to breathe a moment. There slumped in a chair sat Logan. Head at an awkward angle he was fast asleep, and he looked…
Wow, he looked awful. Was that the suit he’d worn the day of the home visit? Why was he still in that, however many days later? It had to have been days, because he sported an almost full beard on his jaw. Deep purple smudges marred his usually even complexion, and … she sniffed. There was a definite not so pleasant odor in the room. She struggled to sit up, to see him better when a cool hand on her shoulder stopped her.
“Easy there, now, let me help you.” The whispered words came from a Health Care Assistant, Lucy, according to her nametag. The young redhead smiled at her, grabbed the button to work her bed, and Hannah slowly rose in a more upright position. The shift in position made the room spin, and she closed her eyes until the dizziness passed.
“There, is that better? I’ll check with the nurse to see if we can get rid of these.” She touched the tracks under Hannah’s nose and smiled. “The drip will have to stay in for a while until you’re strong enough.”
She glanced across at still sleeping Logan.
“You had that man of yours worried. He hasn’t left your side since you were brought in, and at times I thought he’d get himself thrown out. He’s got a bit of a temper, hasn’t he?” She winked at her, and Hannah croaked a weak confirmation.
“Here, slow sips, lubricate those vocal cords. You’ve been out of it for days now.” She held up a cup with a straw, and Hannah managed a few sucks. Lukewarm water had never tasted so good.
“Days?” she asked. “But I can’t have been. I had a cough and sore throat, that’s all. This doesn’t make sense.”
Lucy sobered, picked up her medical chart at the end of her bed, and ticked something off.
“Well, it might have started off like that, but it developed into pneumonia, and that brought on sepsis. Had your husband not brought you in when he did, it could have been really nasty. As it was, it took a rather aggressive cocktail of drugs to get the sepsis under control, but you’ve been on the mend for the last twenty-four hours or so. Still, he—” She hooked a thumb over her shoulder at Logan. “He still refused to leave, and you know I’m really glad you’re awake, ‘cause he’s starting to smell a bit ripe, if you catch my drift.”
She grinned at her, and clipped the notes back to Hannah’s bed.
“A nurse will be in to assess you properly soon.”
With that she left to let Hannah digest this information overload. At least she now knew why she felt as weak a kitten who’d been run over by a truck and lost eight of her nine lives in the process. It didn’t explain Logan’s continued presence though.
His foot slipped, and Logan jerked awake.
“Fuck, what … you’re awake?” He shot to his feet as though he’d been fired from a cannonball, but that wasn’t what made her heart turn over in her chest. It was the tears in his eyes, and the careful way he grasped hold of her hand, raised it up to his lips and pressed a lingering kiss to it that did her in. His beard felt rough against her skin, and tickled at the same time. A completely inappropriate giggle rose from her chest. Okay, so it sounded more like the squeaky wheel of the janitor’s bucket, currently passing by outside her open door, but Hannah was glad she could produce that much of a sound.
Logan lifted his head and regarded her through narrowed eyes.
“And she giggles. Giggles.” He growled low in his throat, and Hanna
h’s heart missed a few beats, especially as he didn’t look angry. His eyes softened as he looked down on her, and then he perched his butt on the side of her bed, dipped his head and kissed her. It was a mere brush of his lips over hers, gentle, yet oh so tender, as he breathed words she never thought she would hear him say.
“I missed you.” He kissed her again, firmer this time, his tongue demanding entry. The minute she opened for him he swooped in, kissing her with so much heated passion she started to cry again. Logan broke the kiss, swore under his breath, and kissed the tears off her face. That just made her cry harder, and Logan pulled away and scrubbed his hand over his face in a move so achingly familiar, it hurt to see. As per usual he was utterly baffled by her display of emotion, or so she thought, until he swiped moisture off his own face.
“Fuck it, I’m messing this all up. I didn’t mean to make you cry. For the love of God, will you stop doing that, woman. I don’t like it, especially if you’re crying over me. Believe me, I’m not worth it.”
When she didn’t stop, he climbed on the bed, pulled her unto his lap, and held her. It felt so good to be back in his arms that for a few precious moments Hannah allowed herself to think that everything would be all right after all. That they could be a proper little family. Eventually, she managed to pull herself together and pushed away from him. He let her, brows drawn together in a frown, those dark eyes of his assessing her. His jaw clenched, and his hands pulled into fists at whatever he read in her expression.
“You shouldn’t be on here.” She whispered the words, utterly incapable of projecting her voice with any conviction. “It’s against hospital rules, I’m sure.”
“Fuck the rules. I never much cared for them, and I sure as fuck am not going to start now. Jesus, woman, do you have any idea how worried I’ve been over you? Well, do you?” He glared some more, and before she could do as much as shake her head, he continued. “Of course, you don’t, why would you, but for the love of God, don’t you ever, ever, do that to me again, do you hear?”
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