“I guess he was eager to meet you,” she said as she walked toward him. “This is our guest, Lucas.”
The little boy buried his face in Russell’s mother’s neck. “He seems to like you.”
“Of course, he does. I’m loveable,” she agreed.
He looked at the boy—studied him as he raised his head. Blond hair, blue eyes, and a familiar smile gazed down at him. He looked like his mother, and that eased the pain he was having in his chest.
As Gerald pushed him toward the house, each of his brothers and their significant others shook his hand, patted him on the back, or kissed his cheek.
Lydia jumped right in front of his chair, placed her hands on his cheeks, and gave him a generous kiss on the lips.
“I’m so glad you’re home. You will heal so much better here. And then when you’re ready…”
He laughed. “I can help you with your new place.”
“Absolutely.” She kissed him again before stepping to the side.
Just as Gerald pushed him to the door, Chelsea stepped into view. “Welcome home,” she said, with as much trepidation as he was feeling.
“Thanks.” His voice cracked as he spoke. How was this possibly going to work, when both of them were so obviously uncomfortable?
“I’d better get Lucas, so your mom can get you settled.”
She started by him, and he reached for her. “He looks just like you,” he said, hoping the sincerity relayed correctly.
“He’s my life.” Though her words should have sliced right through his heart, seeing her there, and having seen him, he knew the extent of her love for her son. It was admirable, especially considering his paternity.
She slid by them, and Gerald pushed him into the house, through to the kitchen where it looked as though they were having a party.
“What’s all this?” he asked.
“They’re all excited to have you home. So if you need to rest, you’d better let me know. You know how this family is, this could go on for hours,” Gerald joked at their family’s expense.
Russell chuckled. “I know I’m supposed to rest, but I think this might be what I need for the moment.”
Chelsea reached for Lucas and pulled him to her. “He’s going to do much better at home,” she told Glenda, who watched her family file into the house.
“I know he will. It’ll surprise everyone.”
“Would you mind if I took Lucas out back and showed him the chickens?”
Glenda’s brows drew together. “Now? Don’t you want to come in and eat?”
“I think I need a few minutes to collect myself. I’m just a little overwhelmed.”
Glenda rubbed her arm. “Take all the time you need. Our home and our land is yours. He should explore and enjoy every part of it.”
Chelsea watched Glenda follow her family back into the house. She took a deep breath and gave Lucas a kiss on the forehead. “Would you like to see the chickens?”
“Chick-in,” he replied as he wiggled out of her arms and down her body. He started off, stopped and held his hand out for her, and waited for her to catch up. “Chick-in, Mommy.”
She wondered if there would ever be a time when she didn’t nearly tear up when he called her Mommy. How could it tug at her heart still? But it did.
Russell watched Chelsea and Lucas from the back door. Lucas had a lot of energy, and she had a genuine smile to match. Russell had been prepared for it to hurt when he saw them together, but even he could admit, he’d never made her as happy as she was just looking at the chickens with her son.
“He loves his mommy,” his mother said as she set a plate of food on the table next to him.
“I didn’t know what to expect when I saw him—or her here for that matter.”
“She needs us, and you need her,” his mother sat down next to him. “Be open minded.”
“I’ll do my best,” he said with a hint of sarcasm. Then he relaxed in his chair. “I’ll admit, I’m not sure what my mood will be now that I’m home. Sitting in this damn chair only pisses me off.”
“It’s part of your recovery. Be strong of mind and you’ll recover physically,” she offered as she took a piece of cheese from the plate she’d brought him and popped it into her mouth.
“I shouldn’t be in this chair at all,” he said, turning to face her. “I wasn’t drunk that night. I don’t remember losing control of my truck. I don’t remember anyone running me off the road either.”
“But Phillip said you were, and they found the truck that did it.”
He nodded. “He told me. Her ex-husband’s truck.”
“And it was parked outside of her house,” his mother whispered as if it were a secret.
Russell rubbed the ache starting between his eyes. It didn’t sit right with him. Who was at the bar that night in another blue truck? And he hadn’t known anyone at the bar either.
“You’re due for your pain meds.” She stood from the table and hurried off to find the bag they’d brought home as Chelsea and Lucas came through the back door. She had hold of both his hands and walked behind him. He was covered in mud and grinning from ear to ear.
Russell’s mother walked back to the table with the pills she’d gone after, and a glass of water. Shifting a glance at Chelsea she tucked in a smile. “Oh, my goodness. What happened here?”
“Lucas seems to think it’s a fun game to chase the chickens,” she said still holding tightly to his hands. “I need to throw him in a tub, but I don’t want to get mud all over the house.”
“I’ll get him some clean clothes, and you take him into Russell’s room. There’s a tub in there.”
Russell swallowed the pills his mother had given him and nearly choked on them. “My room doesn’t have a bathroom.”
“Honey, we moved you down to the main level. It’ll be a bit before you can do the stairs. Chelsea and Lucas are staying in your room.”
The panicked look on Chelsea’s face meant that the reaction to his mother’s words had left a trail of irritation on his.
“We’ll hurry,” Chelsea said as she hurried past them to the bedroom down the hall from the kitchen.
His mother sat back down next to him. The pain was building, but behind his eyes and not in his leg or arm. His mother put her hand on his arm. “You should lie down.”
“Seems as though my room is being occupied,” he quipped through gritted teeth.
“I’ll go help her.”
“Don’t bother. No need to hurry her,” he said on a breath. “I’m going to just roll myself in there and lay down.”
“I’ll help you then.”
“I don’t need help,” he snapped and realized he’d done so loudly, as everyone turned and grew quiet.
That was when the excuses started, and his family began to dismiss themselves one by one. Soon it was just him and his mother, alone in the kitchen. The headache had compounded, and a niggling thought was itching in his brain.
He hadn’t meant to be so sour about everything. Getting home was supposed to have made everything better.
His mother had escorted everyone out the door and then run upstairs after the clothes she’d promised Chelsea she’d find.
It was then Russell noticed that even his father had somehow exited with the crowd. He was sitting there absolutely alone.
He could use this against them when he was pissed.
Backing his chair away from the table, he managed to maneuver it through the kitchen without crashing his extended leg into anything. Navigating the turn to the hall was a little trickier, especially since he only, really, had one good arm.
He managed himself into the guestroom on the main level. Sounds of water, a small voice singing, and Chelsea’s voice soothing came from the bathroom.
For a moment he let himself enjoy the sounds. Once he’d wanted a house full of them. Chances were that would never happen. He’d grown too crabby and undesirable. There were times he couldn’t even stand himself.
Russell rolled the wheelchair to the
side of the bed. Pulling back the bedding, he exposed the fancy linens his mother would save for guests. If he had to recover there, he might as well enjoy the best his mother had to offer.
Putting the brakes on the chair, Russell carefully bent to move the foot plates. Every muscle in his body still ached. Even these tedious tasks hurt. But he’d be damned if it was going to hold him back.
Once he removed the obstacles, he pushed up with his good arm, to stand on his good leg. Even that was wobbly, but the bed was only a few inches away. He could do this.
Pushing harder, he got up on one leg, but the brakes on the chair weren’t as secure as he’d thought.
Just as Chelsea walked out of the bathroom with the toddler in her arms wrapped in a towel, Russell felt the chair move, and he was headed toward the floor.
It all flashed before him. He was going down. Then he saw the little boy running around naked, and two strong, yet feminine arms were wrapped around him keeping him from falling.
“What in the hell were you doing?” Chelsea hollered as she guided him toward the bed, and sat him on the edge. “You could have fallen and hurt yourself.”
“I’m already hurt.”
“Don’t you get sassy with me,” she scolded. Her cheeks were fire red, and her eyes wide. “I’m here to help you, and you’re damn well going to let me. Don’t you ever do that again.”
“You’re not my mother,” he retorted with equal venom.
“No, but I am,” his mother said from the doorway as she picked up Lucas and wrapped him back up in his towel. “I’ll strap you to that bed if you do that again.”
Russell fisted his hands. “I’m fine. I have to learn to do this.”
Chelsea leaned in real close. “Then you let me teach you,” she growled through clenched teeth. “I’ll damn well let you do it when you’re strong enough.”
His mother cleared her throat. “I’ll take him upstairs and get him dressed.”
He noticed Chelsea didn’t even look their way. “Thank you,” she said as she kept a steely stare on him. When his mother and her son were out of the room, she eased back. “As pleasant as it is, why don’t you let me look at your catheter bag so I can dump it.”
Humiliation crept up his spine and spread through his skin like a burn from the inside. “Can’t we have someone else do that?”
“I’m the nurse your parents hired to take care of you.”
“But you’re not a full nurse yet.”
“Nope, but I’m here. It’ll take them hours to get someone else out here from town to do it. By then, you might have an infection if its full and flowing the wrong way up the tube. Perhaps you should just remember that I’ve seen everything you have, only now it’s absolutely in a professional capacity. You don’t have to worry about anything.”
God, he hated this. He hated every part of it.
He had no choices. This was his reality.
“Fine,” he spat out. “Do it and then let me get some rest. Those pills my mother gave me are starting to make your face fuzzy.”
She laughed as she lifted his legs onto the bed and pulled up his pant leg.
Russell laid his head back on the billion pillows his mother thought the bed needed for show, and closed his eyes. He didn’t want to see her looking at his—anything.
She lifted his pant leg only. “You’ll be okay for a little bit. What this tells me is you need more fluids.”
He opened his eyes and squinted at her. “These are not the kinds of things I want to hear you tell me.”
“Oh, is there anything you want me to tell you?” She bore a stare into him, and he knew she was thinking about his drugged slip of words when he’d first seen her. He’d told her he loved her, and he wondered if it would always haunt him. But then he thought about it. There was something he wanted her to tell him.
“Why don’t you tell me where you were the night of my accident.”
Her eyes grew wide. “You want to know where I was when you were in your accident?”
“Yeah. I mean, I was run off the road by a truck that was owned by your ex-husband, which they found parked at your house.”
“Across from my house,” she clarified curtly.
“Did he leave you that truck?”
Chelsea fisted her hands at her side, and he could see the lines form at the corners of her eyes. Her breath came faster now, and he was finding great satisfaction in seeing her fume over his question.
“I have never driven that truck before.”
“So, where were you?”
Her nostrils were flaring and he’d yet to get his answer. Was she having to think about it? Could he possibly have hit on something?
“Is everything okay,” his mother’s voice cut through the tension that had enveloped the room
She stepped in with Lucas on her hip, but the moment he saw his mother, he wiggled his way down and hurried to Chelsea.
She batted her eyes, obviously trying not to cry. Lucas pulled at her pant leg, and she bent down to pick him up.
“A nurse will be here in the morning. I’ll have her check in on you,” she informed him gruffly.
His mother moved toward the bed. “Is everything okay here?”
“I’ll let him fill you in. I’m going to go pack.” She turned toward his mother. “Thank you again for everything. This isn’t going to work.”
A moment later she was gone.
His mother fisted her hands on her hips, narrowed her stare on him, and moved in. He might be a grown man, but she still scared the hell out of him. The only difference between when he was a child and now—he couldn’t run.
“What did you say to her.”
“Mom, it’s not worth it. I don’t know what you’re thinking to have her here helping me, but…”
“I’m helping her. You’ll be fine soon enough,” she interrupted. “That girl needs someone to watch over her. Phillip can’t do it all the time. He’s protecting the rest of the city. That little boy doesn’t need any more drama in his short little life. He needs love. He needs fresh air. He needs chicken coops to get muddy in. You…you need to focus on healing. And I can’t think of a better way than having someone who knows how to put up with your whiney crap help you along.”
His mouth fell open, but he had no words.
How could he have accused her of hurting him physically? Sure, she’d done it emotionally. Then again, who says she couldn’t have done it anyway.
The drugs were messing up his thinking. Hell, a few days ago, he’d told the woman he loved her. Could it be any more confusing?
Russell looked at his mother, but she was getting fuzzy. The pain meds she’d given him were starting to take effect. There needed to be an apology. He just wasn’t sure if it should come to him or if he should be giving it. It took a lot of through process to realize it was dark. His eyes were closed and for the life of him, he couldn’t pry them open.
The swirling in his head usually meant he was going under. Fine, he’d face this problem when he woke up. At least he’d have more energy for it then.
Chapter Ten
Lucas had begun to cry when Chelsea took his blanket and shoved it in the suitcase. At the moment, she had to turn a deaf ear to it and finish what she’d started. They needed to get out of the house and go back to their life—the one that didn’t include the Walkers, no matter how depressing the thought.
When she picked up his Tigger, he let out an ungodly screech, and she turned to see him standing there with his arms up and his face red from the tears he’d been crying.
This wasn’t what she’d wanted when she’d stormed out on Russell. She’d wanted Russell to look like this.
Chelsea picked up Lucas and handed him the Tigger. Then she pulled him close to her, and he rested his head on her shoulder, almost as if he knew she needed the comfort.
There was a knock at the door, and when she looked up, she saw Phillip standing there, his hat in his hand.
“Glenda says our patient is a little
testy.”
She realized she was rocking from side to side as Lucas had fallen asleep on her shoulder. Perhaps his falling asleep was to calm her as much as it was what he needed.
Because she wasn’t going to wake him, she took a breath and quieted her voice. “He’s an ass. I can’t do this. I can’t stay here and take care of him.” She rubbed Lucas’s back as she walked toward the bed. With his Tigger gripped tightly in his hands, she laid him down on the bed and pulled a small blanket up over him.
Phillip moved in behind her and looked down at him. “He’s precious, Chelsea. Makes me wish I’d have had one.”
“Why didn’t you?”
“My choice in women that I married was never good.”
“You still have time.”
He chuckled quietly. “Only got eyes on one woman, and I find a way to seem like the idiot I have a reputation for being, whenever she’s around.” Backing up, he ran his hand over the rim of his hat. “Listen, I know you’re not happy here, but you need to stay out here.”
“I’ll be fine at home. I don’t…”
“Your house was broken into last night.”
Chelsea felt the tightness in her chest, and her breath grew thick in her lungs. Gently, she sat down on the bed next to Lucas, who continued to sleep soundly.
“Dominic?”
Patrick shook his head. “Still have eyes on him in Texas, and he’s right where he’s supposed to be.”
“Who’s doing this?”
“I don’t know. We took the truck in, and we’re trying to identify who was driving it.”
She hated being in such a vulnerable position. Feeling hunted was a horrible feeling. Chelsea shifted her eyes up to look at Phillip. “I don’t want anything to happen to the Walkers. They don’t deserve to have anything happen to them because of me. I need to find somewhere else for Lucas and me. If this is someone who knows me, they’ll look for me with my parents and my sister. I don’t want them hurt either.”
“The safest place for you is here. No one is going to let anyone near you.”
“Why would they do this for me?”
“You’re worth it, Chels. This family has a high tolerance for pain if you will. Nothing will break them.”
Walker Revenge (The Walker Family Series Book 5) Page 7
