Northern Rebel: Daring in the Dark

by Jennifer Labrecque

  She left the bathroom behind and navigated the labyrinthine halls to the elevator bank. City North was clean and boasted a reputation for excellent care, but it was one of the older hospitals in the city and its elevators ran slowly. Eventually she reached the fourth floor, a relatively quiet hall that wasn’t part of Intensive Care—a very good sign for Simon’s mom that she was well enough to warrant a regular room. Two nurses sat engrossed in conversation behind the nurses’-station desk. Tawny followed the sign directing her left to the room number they’d been given downstairs.

  Her rubber soles squelched on the spotless tile as she walked down the hall.

  A distinguished-looking man who bore a striking resemblance to Simon stood outside the door. A little taller than Simon, gray hair, clipped goatee, chinos, a short-sleeved button-down and thick fisherman sandals. Distinguished didn’t impress her. Her father and his colleagues were all distinguished and it didn’t make them any more or less decent human beings than anyone else.

  Tawny drew a deep breath. She needed to ditch the attitude. It wouldn’t do anyone any good. This wasn’t about her. She was here to support Simon, not mix it up with his parents. So this man hadn’t exactly been the father of the year for Simon, but he was still his father. And Simon, despite their history and their obvious shortcomings as parents—definitely just her opinion—cared for them.

  They were his parents, regardless of the fact that Simon deserved better ones. Of course, Simon could really use a better friend than Elliott, who’d needed intimidation to bring him here. Simon was sweet and tender and one of the finest men she’d ever met, and he deserved the very best life had to offer.

  The man looked up as she approached, eyeing her blankly.

  “Mr. Thackeray?” He nodded. “I’m Tawny Edwards, a friend of Simon’s.” She extended her hand and after a moment’s hesitation he shook it.

  “Very good. Very good. Charles Thackeray.”

  “How is Dr. Marbury?”

  He passed a weary hand over his face. “Stable. She’s resting comfortably now that Simon’s here.”

  His obvious weariness dispelled some of her harbored animosity. Good parent or bad parent, here was a man worried about the woman he loved.

  “He ran almost six miles to get here.” She thought he should know.

  He looked taken aback. “He ran?”

  “Yes. Ran. In boots. The cabs weren’t running and I don’t own a car. He was worried sick.” She thought it best not to bring up being stopped by the police. Simon really could use a lesson or two in diplomacy. She’d known as sure as rain that he was about to mouth off at that cop, and the only place that would get them was possibly arrested. The only place worse than her apartment to be in a blackout.

  “Oh. He didn’t say.”

  Charles Thackeray struck her as an academic who immersed himself in other times and places and didn’t invest much in the here and now.

  “No. He wouldn’t, would he?” she countered.

  “No, I don’t suppose he would. Always been a bit of a loner, our boy. And a little standoffish.”

  Tawny managed not to gape and literally bit her tongue to keep from mouthing off about the pot calling the kettle black and the apple not falling far from the tree. Instead she contented herself with saying, “You just have to work a little harder to get to know him, but he’s definitely worth the effort.”

  He looked at her as if she’d just expostulated a new scientific hypothesis but didn’t comment.

  “So it was definitely a heart attack?” she asked.

  “Yes. Chest pains woke her around midnight. Letitia’s one of the most sensible women I know. She didn’t know if it was the heat, indigestion or a heart attack. Instead of ignoring it, she told me to bring her to the hospital. Said she’d rather be embarrassed if it was indigestion than dead if it wasn’t. Very sensible woman.”

  “I’ve seen the statistics. A frightening number of women die unnecessarily each year from heart attacks because they wait too long to seek treatment or simply ignore the symptoms,” Tawny said.

  Apparently Charles Thackeray wasn’t as together as he seemed. Tears welled in his eyes. Great, Tawny. Make him cry by driving home how close his wife had come to dying. She awkwardly patted his arm.

  “I’m glad she’s fine now.”

  Charles nodded. “Something in my eye. Yes, of course. Good thing she’s such a sensible woman. Let’s go in so she can meet you.”

  Tawny thought that since she’d opened her big mouth about dying that he really just needed to reassure himself that his wife was, indeed, okay.

  “I’ll just wait out here till Simon’s through visiting with her.”

  “Nonsense. Simon will want to know you’re here and I’m sure Letitia will want to meet you.”

  Short of making a big stink, which didn’t seem the thing to do, Tawny had little choice but to allow him to usher her into the room ahead of him.

  In a quick glance Tawny took in the situation. Simon stood to the right of the hospital bed, looking terribly uncomfortable and self-conscious. She checked out his mother.

  She’d mentally prepared herself for a Gorgonesque creature. She was quite surprised at how...well, normal the woman in bed looked, even though she was hooked up to the telemetry machine. A chin-length bob of dark hair shot through with silver framed an angular, wan face and eyes the shape and color of Simon’s.

  “Letty, this is Tawny Edwards.” He paused significantly and then continued, “She’s here with Simon.”

  Without thinking, Tawny moved to stand beside Simon and took his hand in hers, more for her benefit than his. She didn’t know why she was suffering this sudden attack of nerves.

  “I’m so pleased to meet you.” Letitia Thackeray’s crisp British accent was far more pronounced than her husband’s.

  “It’s nice to meet you, as well—” Tawny paused to smile “—although I wish it were under better circumstances.” She shifted self-consciously. Her Southern accent came across as thick as molasses in contrast to Letitia’s clipped tone. “How are you feeling?”

  “I’m fine. A little glitch in the system, but I’m going to be right as rain.” She looked from Tawny to Simon and back again.

  Charles smiled at his wife. The tenderness that passed between them nearly took Tawny’s breath. Charles nodded. “It’s that way.”

  “What way?” Simon asked. No one answered him. Tawny had no idea what Charles was talking about either. It was as if Charles and Letitia shared their own language.

  “Oh, wonderful.” Letitia beamed at Tawny from her pillow. “Simon’s never brought a girl home to meet us before.”

  Home to meet them? News flash: they weren’t exactly sitting in a drawing room sipping tea and munching crumpets. And they’d totally misinterpreted her and Simon’s relationship. Heck, she and Simon didn’t have a relationship. Talk about a wrong impression. She tried to let go of Simon’s hand.

  “But—”

  Instead of releasing her hand, Simon squeezed it and glanced at the monitor beeping by his mother’s bed. All righty, then. For right now they had a relationship. And it was whatever his mother wanted it to be.

  Tawny smiled at the bedridden woman and hoped her smile wasn’t as weak as it felt. “Yes...well, I wish I was meeting you both under different circumstances.”

  “No, dear girl.” This was moving fast—she was already a dear girl. “This is wonderful.” Letitia lowered her voice and took on a confiding tone. “Charles and I had begun to worry that he might be a bit of a poofter. You know, gay.”

  This family had some serious communication issues.

  Simon uttered a choking noise and his ears turned bright red. “Mum...”

  “He’s definitely not,” Tawny blurted without thinking. Oh, crud. She shouldn’t have said that in such a knowing tone. Not to his parents. She, Tawny Marianne Edwards, was zipping her lip until they got out of here. She wasn’t saying another word.

  Far from offended, they seemed pl
eased by her outburst. Charles winked at Letitia. “See, I told you it was that way.”

  Tawny glanced at Simon. She saw the kindness and integrity in his brown eyes, the endearing tinge of red still burning his ears. She curled her fingers around his, his grip firm and sure. Her heart flip-flopped queerly as she realized that it was, indeed, that way.

  * * *

  “Simon and Tawny ran six miles to get here, Letty. And Simon’s wearing boots,” his dad said with a touch of awe and pride.

  “You ran to see me?” his mother asked, a hint of wonder reflected in both her voice and her eyes.

  Simon knew he was wading deeper into muck, but he’d sort it out when his mother wasn’t lying in a hospital bed connected to monitors with an oxygen tube clipped to her nose. She’d looked so bloody pleased—they both had—when they’d misconstrued his and Tawny’s relationship. And then when Tawny had looked at him as if she was somewhere beyond besotted...

  “Well, not quite six miles. We managed a lift the last bit.”

  “In boots?”

  He would’ve never guessed that he was this important to them. Emotion clogged his throat.

  “I needed to make sure you were okay.” It came out brusque and clipped.

  His mother didn’t seem to mind. “That’s wonderful.”

  “He’s a wonderful man. You should spend some time getting to know him,” Tawny said. Despite her soft voice, her look challenged both of his parents.

  Her statement hung in the air, the bleep of the telemetry the only sound in the room. His dad stood a little straighter, his mouth pinched. No one took Charles Thackeray or Letitia Marbury to task. Simon nearly gaped when his father’s face softened and he took his wife’s hand in his.

  “Perhaps you’re right, young lady. I suspect our son is rather wonderful.”

  It was as close as his family had ever come to a Hallmark moment. And probably ever would. Simon was bloody close to blubbering.

  It was just as well that Elliott breezed through the door, shattering the moment. “Dr. M, what are you doing here?”

  What was Elliott doing here? Elliott brushed past them to hug Simon’s mother. In the meantime, Simon glanced at Tawny and murmured, “You did this?”

  She looked guilty but unrepentant. “I didn’t know what you’d be faced with. I thought you might need him,” she said quietly in his ear, leaning in under the guise of brushing something off of his shirt.

  Elliott straightened and threw an arm around Simon’s shoulders. “Simon. Thanks for taking care of my girl.”

  “Your girl? We thought...” His mother trailed off, frowning in confusion.

  Elliott offered a charming smile. “Sure. Tawny and I are engaged. Didn’t Simon tell you?”

  “No. That particular detail wasn’t mentioned.” His father’s eyebrows beetled together into a unibrow.

  “But Simon and Tawny...” His mother verged on tears.

  “Elliott’s such a kidder.” Tawny swatted at Elliott, angled so that only Elliott and Simon saw the serious glint in her eyes. “Quit teasing Dr. Marbury.” She looked back at his mother. “We need to let you get some rest. In fact, come on, guys, we’ll go get a coffee.” She stopped just short of snapping her fingers at them.

  His mother beamed her approval. “Ah, a woman after my own heart, one who knows how to take charge.” She nodded at Simon. “You’ve done well, son. I like her.”

  “I like her, as well,” his father said.

  Well, bully, they were three for three, because so did he. This would be a fine mess to sort out later. “I’m a lucky guy.”

  “I’m the lucky one,” Tawny said, casting an adoring look his way.

  “But...” Elliott looked from one to the other, clearly confused.

  Tawny cut him off. “An iced coffee would be heaven, wouldn’t it? Let’s go find the café.” She grabbed Elliott by the arm.

  “Ouch. You pinched me,” he said.

  “Oops. Sorry about that.” She turned to Simon’s mother. “Try to get some rest.”

  “I will. Thank you for coming with Simon.” His mother looked at him. “You will stop back in before you leave, won’t you?”

  “Yes. Get some sleep.”

  Tawny led Elliott from the room. Simon followed. Tawny in charge was a formidable sight.

  They’d barely made it to the hall when Elliott said, “What was that—”

  “Put a lid on it, Elliott,” Tawny snapped at him. “I desperately need a cup of coffee to make me close to human. We’ll talk then.”

  She swept forward like a regal queen. Elliott deserved everything and anything she threw his way, and Simon was damned glad he wasn’t Elliott.

  Richard straightened from where he’d been leaning against the wall across from the nurses’ station and approached Elliott. The look that passed between them was the unmistakable look shared by lovers.

  “I see you did bring the rainbow coalition,” Tawny said.

  Richard glared at Tawny and linked his arm through Elliott’s.

  Simon found it fairly disconcerting to see his best friend arm in arm with his gay lover. But in the scheme of things, no more disconcerting than finding himself in Tawny’s bed or discovering that his parents thought he might be gay. Altogether it had been a very curious night. And it wasn’t over yet.

  They took the next available elevator. At half past three in the morning they were the only passengers.

  The doors closed and Elliott drew a deep breath, sniffing the air like a scent hound. He visibly paled, looking askance at first Tawny and then Simon.

  “The two of you slept together.” It wasn’t a question.

  “What are you talking about?” Tawny challenged.

  “The two of you...you reek of sex.” Elliott rounded on Simon. “I can’t believe you screwed my fiancée.”

  Simon had known they’d have this conversation one day, he just hadn’t anticipated it being quite so soon. He looked pointedly at Richard. “You don’t have a lot of room for outrage.”

  Tawny moved to stand directly in front of Elliott, her body screaming confrontation.

  “Let’s get a couple of things straight. I’m not your fiancée. Who I screw, when I screw and how I screw is no longer any of your business. I could do the entire NY Giants team for halftime entertainment and it wouldn’t be any of your business. Once you dipped your wick there—” she stabbed a finger in Richard’s general direction “—you were never coming here again. Literally or figuratively.”

  “Honey, his wick’s no longer interested in anything you’ve got,” Richard sniped.

  “Which is a good thing,” she lobbed back.

  Simon bit back a laugh. Well said. She’d bloody well laid it all on the line. She really was a magnificent woman.

  The doors opened to the first floor and Simon herded everyone off the elevator.

  “I think we could all use a cup of tea...or coffee,” he said, steering everyone to the right, following the signs to the café.

  Tawny grumbled at Elliott. “You were supposed to show up to support Simon, not act like a jerk.”

  “Well, I guess if Simon doesn’t like it you can always kiss it and make it better,” Elliott said with a sneer.

  Simon had a fairly good idea of how much willpower Tawny employed to ignore Elliott’s comment. Doubtless, flaunting her and Simon’s night in Elliott’s face was tempting, especially considering Elliott had brought his new lover along. But apparently she’d been sincere when she’d said she hadn’t slept with him to get back at Elliott. Instead she ignored his gibe.

  “How did you get here so quick?” she said. “There’s no way you got here in that amount of time from the gallery.”

  “My apartment’s only a couple of blocks away,” Richard said, letting the cat out of the bag.

  Simon felt sucker-punched. Certainly he was a sucker. Elliott hadn’t been locked in at the gallery. He’d used him. Lied to him and used him. Their friendship had weathered the occasional row, but never would
he have believed Elliott would lie to him. He stopped outside of the café entrance, restraining Elliott with a hand on his arm.

  “Thanks, Richard. I’d love for you to buy me a cup of coffee,” Tawny said, very much tongue in cheek but obviously trying to get Richard to give Elliott and Simon a moment of privacy.

  Elliott glanced at Richard. “Please. Do it for me.”

  “Well, since it’s for you,” Richard said, giving Tawny a look of distaste. He reluctantly followed her into the café.

  “Were you ever locked in at the gallery?” Simon asked with quiet fury.

  “Yes. It does go into lockdown mode.”

  “For how long?” Simon’s anger rendered him nearly speechless.

  Elliott shoved his hands into his pockets and looked abashed. “About an hour. The security-system people talked me through disarming it.”

  “Was this before or after you asked me to break your news to Tawny?”

  “After. Definitely after. I swear to you, Simon.”

  He felt marginally better—if Elliott wasn’t lying. For fifteen years they’d been as close as brothers, and in less than a day he no longer knew if he could trust Elliott. He no longer knew the man before him. The man he’d loved like a brother couldn’t have betrayed his fiancée, wouldn’t have left Simon to clean up his mess. “Yet when you got out of the gallery, you didn’t think you needed to come over to Tawny’s?”

  “You were already taking care of it. I thought it would be best to let her sleep on it. I didn’t know she’d be sleeping on it with you.”

  Simon’s anger dissipated as quickly as it had swamped him, leaving exhaustion in its wake. He hadn’t used Elliott, but he had betrayed him to some extent. Simon realized he’d come across as something of a sanctimonious bastard. Two women in scrubs walked past and he waited until they were out of earshot.

  “Elliott, you put both of us in that position. Do you know she’s afraid of the dark?”

  “Of course I do. We were together for six months.”

  “Then why did you tell me to leave her there alone? That struck me as rather callous.”

  Elliott shoved his hands into his trouser pockets and avoided Simon’s eyes. “Things have already been a bit rocky between us. I told you we haven’t been setting any records in the bedroom—” Right, and Tawny’d pretty much said the same. “She says I whine and that I’m self-centered.”