That was why he was surprised to hear a knock on his door one evening as he was going through the evidence on his current case. Papers and photographs surrounded him on the table and the sofa. Legal documents were on the ottoman. He stood up so fast, they fluttered and one sailed to the floor.
Erin didn’t have her key any more.
He hoofed it to the door and, when he opened it, he found a Foster with blond hair. It just wasn’t the right one.
‘Dustin.’ Colt steadied himself. Was the guy here to let him have it?
No, her brother didn’t even know. They’d kept it secret from him. That was the problem, right?
Colton raked a hand through his hair. His head was so screwed up these days. ‘Come on in.’
Dustin stomped his feet and shook off the snow. ‘Shit, it’s nasty out there. I almost wiped out on the sidewalk.’
‘Sorry,’ Colton muttered. He looked out to see how bad it had got. He’d been letting things slide. Things like shovelling, cleaning up the dishes and making the bed. It was so difficult to engage.
Or had he hired someone to do the work? He couldn’t remember any more.
Dustin tugged off his gloves but left his stocking hat on. He was dressed casually in sweats, and he had his gym bag swung over his shoulder like a backpack. He took one step into the living room and stopped. ‘Whoa.’
His head snapped towards Colton. ‘Erin has been here.’
Colton took a step back, ready for a punch to come flying at his face, only Dustin moved further into the room.
‘This is about a thousand steps up from what you had before.’
Oh. Right.
‘She asked if she could do it,’ Colt hurried to explain. ‘She wanted to bolster her portfolio, so I told her she might as well practise on me.’
He clamped his mouth shut. Holy shit. And he’d worried she would give them away?
Dustin threw him a sly smile but continued his tour around the room. He ‘ooh’ed at the surround sound set-up and ‘aah’ed over one of the chairs.
‘Cool,’ he said when he spotted the Matchbox cars. He picked one up and spun the wheels. ‘I need to get her to do something with my place.’
Colton lifted his hand reflexively, but then let it drop. ‘She did a good job.’
‘That’s our Sunny.’ Dustin carefully placed the red car back on the shelf. ‘She always leaves a place brighter than when she found it.’
Everywhere except this place. It felt so heavy here without her. So dark and dismal.
Colton wanted to ask about her. It was on the tip of his tongue.
Dustin frowned when he saw the mess of papers strewn out on the coffee table. ‘What’s this?’
Colton gathered up the more confidential documents and stuffed them into a manila folder. ‘My latest case. I was just going through a few things.’
‘You’re working?’
‘Yeah.’ Some people did that after the five o’clock horn sounded. ‘What’s it to you?’
‘What’s it to me?’ Dustin held up his hands and went through the motion of shooting. ‘We have a game tonight, Colt. That’s why I dropped by, to make sure you weren’t going to blow it off again. Are you not even remembering now?’
Shit. No, he wasn’t. ‘I got busy,’ he lied.
‘What is up with you these days, man?’
‘Nothing.’
Dustin didn’t buy it. He cocked his head and gave Colton a push in the shoulder. ‘When I call you on the phone, you give me one-word answers. Now you’re forgetting about basketball night?’
Colton ruffled his hair. ‘It’s just…I have a lot going on right now. My head is kind of screwed up.’
Dustin frowned at him. ‘Your head never gets screwed up. You’re the one person I know who has his head screwed on right. Dad has always said so.’
Things had changed. A blonde dynamo had whirled into and out of his life, leaving it like a pile of pick-up sticks.
‘Come on, man. Let’s go.’
Colton looked at the mess spread out before him. ‘I’ve got a lot to do here.’
‘You need to get out of your head.’
Dustin sounded so much like his sister, Colton nearly did a double-take.
‘Go get your gear,’ his friend ordered. ‘You’re our leading point scorer. The team is depending on you.’
Colt took a deep breath. He’d been letting a lot of people down these days.
Maybe this was what he needed. To run up and down a court until his lungs burned. To bump into a few bodies and take a few elbows back? The weight machines and treadmills at the gym didn’t do that.
‘All right.’
‘Hurry it up. We have to be on the court in an hour.’
‘I said, “all right”,’ Colton called over his shoulder.
‘Yeah, yeah. Get a move on. You need to get out of this place.’
From that point on, Dustin became a constant pain in Colton’s ass. He called every day and sometimes more than that. With no notice, he’d drop by to watch a game on television. On other days, he’d drag Colton down to St Arnold’s bar for some mussels and beer.
His friend knew something was wrong, but Colt couldn’t give him the details.
Yet Dustin’s words stuck in his head. ‘You need to get out of this place.’
Dusty was right. He couldn’t sit around the row house any longer, wallowing in self-pity. That wasn’t helping anyone. He saw now that his life was too compartmentalised, and a home should be a home – not just some place he hung his hat.
His folks hadn’t taught him that, but Erin had.
It was time to make some changes.
One day Dustin called as Colton was packing away some things from a closet. His phone tucked between his shoulder and his ear, Colt wrestled with the flaps of the box. It was late. Dustin had almost made it through a full day without calling. ‘D, I’m a little busy right now. Can I call –’
‘Colton, you need to get here.’
The tone of his friend’s voice put Colton back on his haunches. Something was wrong. He grabbed the phone and put it to his ear. ‘What is it?’
He could feel tension radiating through the line.
‘There’s been an accident.’
Colton’s breath left him. ‘Erin?’
‘She needs you. It’s our mother; she slipped on the ice going to one of her DAC meetings and hit her head. She –’ Dustin’s voice cracked. ‘She’s not waking up, Colt.’
Colton pushed to his feet. He was already heading towards the door. ‘Where are you? Which hospital?’
‘George Washington University.’ Dustin’s voice broke. ‘Trauma and critical care unit.’
Colton swallowed hard.
‘I’ll be there.’ He grabbed his coat and hit the door running, but he slowed down when he hit the walk out front. It was icy. ‘Aw, Marilyn.’
Sweet, kind-hearted Marilyn.
His breath tightened. Nothing could happen to her. Dustin would lose it, and Erin would…
Erin.
He had to get to her.
He started towards the Metro station, but grabbed his car keys instead. He’d get there faster. He was less than fifteen minutes out.
The hospital was located in the heart of DC, close to the national monuments. It was a relatively new building that gave Colton some confidence. It should have all the latest technology and medical advances. It better have the best doctors.
He stopped at the information desk to get directions, and then headed for the trauma unit. The facility was designed to be welcoming and soothing but, at the heart of it, it was a stark, impersonal place that buzzed with nervous energy. He followed the arrows on the signs, his footsteps getting faster. The scent of antiseptic was in the air, and he heard the beeps of health monitors.
His head swivelled, checking in rooms for anyone familiar.
For his family.
He found the waiting room. It looked empty but, when he turned the corner, he saw Harmon, Dustin and
Erin.
His gaze locked on her. She looked small and scared. She’d tucked her feet up underneath her on the vinyl-covered loveseat. Her eyes were closed, and she was rubbing her temples worriedly. He just wanted to fold her in his arms and hold her tight.
Yet he stopped. Her name was on the tip of his tongue, but he couldn’t get it out. What if she didn’t want him here? What if that would be too much for her? He didn’t want to bring her more stress. He just wanted to help. He wanted to make it better.
Her head suddenly snapped up, and her blue eyes went wide.
Time stretched out for an eternity.
‘Colton,’ she cried.
She sprang up and ran to him in stockinged feet. He opened his arms, and she slammed into his chest. He bent his head down to hers and wrapped her close.
Dustin turned, and Harmon lifted his head. The older man didn’t seem to be one with his surroundings. He looked at them without really seeing them.
That was fine with Colton. The man was dealing with enough.
‘How is she?’ he asked.
‘Still unconscious.’ Erin’s words were muffled against his chest. ‘She hasn’t woken up since she fell.’
He cupped the back of her head. ‘What did the doctor say?’
She shivered. ‘Not much. They’ve been doing scans and MRIs or whatever they’re called.’
‘When do they think she’ll wake up?’
Her fingers clutched at him. ‘They don’t know,’ she moaned.
So many more questions pulled at him, but Colton pushed them down. He could feel the way Erin was trembling. She was either cold or in shock. He took off his coat and wrapped it around her. He led her back to the loveseat and tucked the wool around her feet.
There was something about finding her without her shoes on. She looked even tinier. Vulnerable.
Dustin’s gaze met his.
‘Thanks for coming,’ his friend said. He hung his head low and rubbed the back of his neck. He was in bad shape too.
Colton looked around the waiting room. There were plenty of open seats. His brain told him to take one on the far side of the room, but he found himself sitting down next to Erin. She let out a shuddering breath and tucked up against him. He hesitated, but gave up and wrapped his arm around her shoulders.
‘Do you need anything?’ He wiped her cheek. It was dry, but her eyes were red. She’d been crying before he’d arrived. ‘Can I get you some coffee or something to eat?’
‘I need…’ She stopped, then she turned her head into his shoulder.
He knew. He threaded his fingers into her hair and held her. He needed her, too.
Harmon sat quiet in the chair next to them. He seemed lost in his own world.
Colton thought about all the times Marilyn had teased him and listened to him. He remembered how she would shove a sandwich in his backpack whenever he went home.
She could do sandwiches.
He closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the wall. She wasn’t his mother, but she’d liked to take care of him. He’d been too old for coddling at that point, but he’d let her fuss.
He’d told himself he was being polite.
Dustin pushed himself to his feet. ‘I’m going to go to the nurses’ station to see if they’ve got any news.’
They didn’t.
Nobody seemed to.
Colton tried next. Sometimes medical providers didn’t like to give bad news to family members until they absolutely had to. He wasn’t family – not by name – but his methods of persuasion didn’t work. Not even when he introduced himself as the Foster family lawyer. The lack of information made him nervous.
‘What’s going on back there?’ Erin had been staring at the double doors at the end of the hallway for a long time. ‘Why won’t they tell us anything?’
‘I don’t know.’ Colton couldn’t take it any more, either. He got up to stretch his legs. It was pitch-dark outside when he looked out the window. Not even the moon was out tonight.
Dustin came over to pass him a cup of bitter coffee.
‘Where was Marilyn when this happened?’ Colton asked. ‘Why weren’t the walks cleared?’
‘They were.’ Dustin rubbed the bridge of his nose. ‘It was outside the DAC building. She was going to one of their monthly meetings. There was ice melt, too, but apparently it didn’t get everything.’
‘Was she by herself?’ God, he hated to think of her lying out in the cold. Was that part of what the medical team back there was dealing with? ‘How long did it take for somebody to help her?’
‘Her driver saw her go down.’
Driver. Colt’s jaw set. ‘Why didn’t he escort her to the door?’
‘Easy,’ Dustin said. If anyone had the right to be angry, it was her son. ‘He helped her to the curb, but she met up with one of her friends and said she could make it the rest of the way. Anyway, that’s his version.’
Yeah, well, it was a version that Colton was going to check out.
‘What’s her prognosis?’ He asked, lowering his voice so neither Harmon nor Erin would hear. ‘How bad is it?’
‘The swelling…’ Dustin rubbed his face when it started to crumple. ‘There’s too much pressure on her brain.’
Colton swore under his breath. It had been a long time since he’d felt so helpless.
Dustin turned his head away to stare out at the sky. Not even the stars were twinkling. His eyes were rimmed with red, but his stare was steely. ‘Would you get back over to my sister? I called you down here to take care of her, not me.’
Colton’s head came up in surprise.
Dustin just jerked his thumb in Erin’s direction.
Colt stared hard, but there was no judgment on his friend’s face. Just a plea for help.
Take care of Erin? An ache filled his chest. That he could do. He walked back to the loveseat, but his steps slowed as he approached her.
If she’d let him…
Her gaze lifted, and he felt it like a sucker punch. She’d never had a good poker face.
But she cleared a space for him.
He sat down next to her. It had been so natural to take her in his arms before, but now he felt the others watching them. With a grumpy sound, she caught his wrist. She lifted his arm and snuck under it. She pressed against his side, and he let out a sigh.
He’d deal with the rest later. This was just too important.
He pulled her close and let her feel his heat.
As the night drew on, he eventually got her to lie down with her head on his lap. Harmon walked by them then. He looked at the two of them in such an intimate arrangement, but all he did was brush his fingers over his daughter’s cheek.
Colt gritted his teeth. Marilyn had to make it through this. She just had to.
The next few days were filled with more bad coffee, uncomfortable chairs and droning soap operas on the television. The doctors had finally given them the facts. They were watching Marilyn’s stats, but if the pressure on her brain didn’t go down soon, they’d have to relieve it themselves.
That was something nobody wanted to happen.
Harmon spent most of his time in his wife’s private hospital room, while Erin and Dustin took shifts. Colton did everything he could for them. He handled the questions from friends and helped Harmon with the hospital and insurance paperwork. He’d also double-checked the driver’s story, and it had been verified by Marilyn’s friend who’d witnessed the fall.
It had been an accident.
On the fourth day, Marilyn finally awoke. The doctors kept her heavily sedated to ease her pain. Everyone was concerned about brain damage, but nobody dared say it out loud.
By the fifth day, she was coming round.
Six days after her fall, she was sitting up in bed, holding court with her family.
Colton couldn’t believe it. She sat in a forest-green dressing gown with pink colour pinched into her cheeks. She was frailer than he’d ever seen her, and her hair had lost its salon styl
e, but she still had elegance. He wasn’t family, but he wasn’t leaving. He needed to see for himself that she was OK. He sat in the vinyl chair in the corner listening carefully for slurred words or vocabulary she couldn’t quite remember.
But there weren’t any.
His relief felt like a hot-air balloon. He couldn’t imagine what the others were feeling.
He watched them from just outside their little circle. Harmon sat in a chair beside his wife’s bed, while Erin was perched at the foot of the mattress. Dustin was leaning against the wall by the window. They all looked tired but happy. When they went home today, each and every one of them would crash.
The trouble had passed. Everything would return to normal soon.
Only Colt didn’t want to go back. He didn’t like the new normal. There, he was just surviving. Functioning on habit. It threw him back to another time when he’d lived day to day, and he would not go back there. He’d left it once, fighting and scrambling.
His gaze settled on Erin.
He’d hurt her badly, but she’d let him back in for a little while. They hadn’t talked about anything that was going on between them, but she’d trusted him.
Once he left here, he’d be leaving her.
He just couldn’t do it.
‘I’m in love with your daughter.’
The words just came out. They weren’t loud, and they weren’t directed at anyone, but Marilyn turned her head slowly. Dustin straightened against the wall, and Harmon’s chair squeaked as he swivelled.
Erin was the only one who didn’t react.
‘What did you say, dear?’ Marilyn asked.
Colton’s throat constricted. What was he doing? He couldn’t start an argument here in the woman’s hospital room. Her head had to feel like a big bass drum. The doctors had told them to keep the noise and stress levels down.
‘I love Erin.’
The words came out again. It was just the way it was. To tell the truth, it was the way it had always been.
Colt waited for the explosion that was about to come, but it was Erin he watched. Her family could say to him what they would, but at the moment, she was the only one who mattered.
Her blonde hair wavered, but then she slowly turned around. Her blue eyes were wide, and her lips were parted.
His gut tightened. She’d wanted to tell her family about them, but he’d said no.
Courting Innocence Page 22
