“Scoot closer,” he said, giving her hand a tug.
“Russ…”
“C’mon. I’m not going to yell at you,” he promised.
Chelsea moved her chair, and he adjusted his so that they were as close as they could get. He lifted his hand to her face and caressed her cheek. “I think we should call a truce.”
“O-kay,” she let the word release slowly. “You’re going to let me take care of you?”
“After Karen gave me my shower, I’m looking forward to it.” He smiled, and it caused her to laugh.
“You always liked taking showers with women,” she joked.
“Just you,” his tone had changed again, and she felt his words heavy on her chest.
“Russ, we can’t talk like this.”
“Yes, we can. We have a past. We had a great past.”
“Until I messed it up,” she threw it in there again, and he eased back.
“Fine.” He dropped his hand from hers. “Do you want me to say it? You messed it up. You took something good and threw it away. Does that make you feel better?”
“No,” she bit back and then swallowed the tears that were threatening.
Russell took her hand again, this time lacing their fingers together. “We started out as friends. Do you remember that?”
Chelsea nodded. It was a fond memory—one she drew from in some of her saddest times.
“Let’s start there. I want to be your friend. You need a friend, Chels. You need me.”
Oh, she could go on and argue again that she’d caused all the problems that now faced them, but they were both aware of them. For now, she’d accept his truce.
“Okay. I’d like to stay here with all of you, and help get you back on your feet. And,” she took a deep breath, “I think it will be a good thing to have Lucas around good role models.”
“Can’t find better ones than right here,” he said, and she knew he meant his father and his brothers—but her mind went straight to him as the perfect role model for her son.
She let her eyes sink into his as she bit down on her bottom lip. “That’s exactly what I was thinking.”
Chapter Twelve
Russell spent a few hours in his father’s office after dinner. The pain meds Chelsea had given him hadn’t affected him quite as badly as they had before. He was still awake and alert. He liked that much better. Perhaps she’d begun to wean him from the full dosage. If that was the case, he was all for it.
Lydia had emailed him pictures of her new house, which she was looking forward to having him help her fix up. He liked knowing he’d have some purpose when he was back up on his feet. He jotted down some notes from looking at the pictures. There were some items she needed to attend to before he could even get to her.
Looking at the house made him think about the plans he and Chelsea had once made, so many years ago. His father had promised each of them a piece of the land to build their houses on. He’d always wanted a small house on the far west corner of the family property, about two miles further west than Eric.
There was room for a house of any size, but he always thought that a small house could be added on to, if they chose, but really, who needed a big house when they had endless acres right out the front door?
He’d never needed anything as a child when it came to the room to play. They’d had an above ground pool, which had ceased to go up when they’d all become too old. There were roads to ride bicycles and dirt bikes on. Streams ran through the property where they’d all fished, swam, and skipped rocks. Groves of trees provided hours of climbing and hiding. The possibilities were endless.
The thoughts brought a smile to his lips.
He typed a search into Google for prefabricated houses. He’d watched a show on it when he was in the hospital, and he’d been very impressed. Order a house and they deliver. Seriously, what was easier than that?
“You’re not surfing porn on my computer are you,” his father’s voice broke through the silence, and Russell jumped.
“Right. As if I am dumb enough to do that.”
His father shrugged, as if to toy with him. “What are you doing? You look good by the way.”
“I feel good. I’ll be perfect when I can get out of this chair.”
“In time,” his father said as he walked around the desk. “Houses? Ready to stake your claim, huh?”
“I’m thinking about it. I was watching a show on these prefabricated houses and thought that would be an excellent place to start. Then the sky’s the limit.”
His father patted him on the back. “We can drive up to Athens and take a look when you’re feeling up to it,” he offered.
“I’d like that.”
“Maybe after the new year.”
“Hey, are you busy tomorrow? I’d like to go to town and do some Christmas shopping for Lucas and Chelsea.”
His father raised an eyebrow. “You want to buy them gifts?”
He nodded his head. “Yeah. I don’t see a future for us, but I see a friendship. So I might as well be a good friend.”
A smile formed on his father’s lips. “I think that’s nice. Are you allowed to go to town?”
Russell ran his tongue over his teeth. “Not sure that I am, but what if we just tell them we’re checking fencelines, and you’re getting me out of the house for a bit.”
Now his father laughed. “If your mother finds out…”
“You can buy her something special while we’re out then.”
The laughter continued as his father rested a hand on his shoulder just as his mother walked into the office.
“Are you ready?” she asked, and Russell looked up at his father.
“You going out?”
“Nah, I have something to show you,” he said before exchanging smiles with Russell’s mother.
Russell unlocked the wheels of the chair, and his father guided him out from behind the desk and to the hallway. He then pushed him to the front door where his brothers all stood as well as Chelsea and Lucas.
There was a ramp where the stairs were, and he could feel tears burn his throat.
“You made me a ramp?” he choked out the words.
“We made you three. There’s one out the back and one into the garage.”
Russell cleared his throat. “Is this what you were working on?”
Eric laughed. “We’ve been working on them for the past few days in the barn up at my house. You’re not one to stay in the house. We thought this would make your recovery easier if you could get out a bit.”
He covered his mouth. He wasn’t going to cry, he promised. There was too much hell to be had, with all of his brothers standing around him. But before he fell asleep, he’d shed a tear or two in appreciation. That was acceptable—alone—in the dark.
His father leaned in, with his hands on the back of the chair. “Ready for your first spin? I’ll take you down it, but it should be just the right angle when you get that sling off your arm you’ll be able to do it with ease.”
“I’m ready,” he said.
Slowly, his father took him down the ramp, and they all whooped at their success. Russell couldn’t say it was a gift he’d ever had wanted, but it just might have been the best one.
“Me turn. Me.” Lucas wiggled down his mother’s body and toward Russell.
Chelsea ran after him scooping him back up. “Oh, it’s not a ride kiddo.”
“Me turn,” he argued.
“Let me have him,” Russell held out his arm. “Set him on my lap.”
“No. It’s okay. You don’t…”
“Chels, c’mon.”
She pursed her lips before she set Lucas on Russell’s lap and Lucas turned to him. He lifted his little hand to his face, and gently rested it on his cheek.
“You have ouchie.”
Russell nodded with a smile. “I do have an ouchie. Mommy is making the ouchies go away,” he promised him. “Are you ready to ride?”
Lucas nodded and held on to the arms of
the chair.
“Okay, Dad. Lucas wants a ride on the ramp.”
His father laughed a deep hearty laugh. “Hold on, cowboy.” He pushed them both up the ramp and turned them around. “Are you ready?”
“Go,” Lucas ordered.
“Hold on tight,” Russell whispered in his ear as he wrapped his arm around him.
His father took them down the ramp as slowly as he had the first time and Lucas giggled, which caused everyone to laugh along.
“Again. Again.”
“You heard the man, Dad. We need to go again.”
And just as any good grandfather would, as if Lucas were his grandson, his father obliged and gave them another ride.
Chelsea promised herself she wouldn’t cry, not until she went to bed, but watching Everett Walker push his son up and down the ramp they’d built for Russell was tugging at her heart. And then when Russell put Lucas on his lap, she had to turn around. It was nearly more than she could handle.
Glenda slipped her arm around Chelsea’s waist. “Why don’t you go inside and gather yourself. They’re going to take him up and down all the ramps, and Lucas seems to be fine right where he is.”
She would have protested, but Glenda was right. She needed to gather herself and Lucas didn’t need to see her cry.
The moment she walked back into the kitchen, the tears began. Perhaps the scenario would have been different, but in her head, she’d seen Lucas play with Russell and his father many times. Even when he’d written her off, and she’d married someone else, she still had dreamed about him.
The dreams had become more vivid once Dominic was out of the picture. Of course, the moment she’d seen Russell in the hospital—well, she’d dreamed of him every night since.
They were going to be friends. They’d agreed. It broke her heart to think that’s all that was left, but it was enough. Above all else, Lucas was happy. That was all that mattered.
She could hear them all move to the garage and Lucas was still laughing.
Chelsea walked into the living room and took a moment in front of the Christmas tree. A new ornament caught her eye, and she reached out to touch it. It said Lucas, and it had a place for a picture of him and Santa, which was left empty.
She covered her mouth as more tears streamed down her cheeks.
Slowly, she turned to the fireplace to see two more stockings had been added on the end next to Russell’s. There was one with Lucas’s name, and it was next to the stocking with her name which had once hung there many years ago. She pressed her hand to her chest. That was simply one of the best Christmas surprises she’d ever had, and she wasn’t even sure Glenda had planned it to be.
Her knees could hardly hold her now. She moved to the nearest seat and fell into it just as Glenda walked into the room carrying two mugs, with tea bags hanging from the sides.
“Let those tears out. Every mama has them.”
“Oh, Glenda. I don’t know how to accept all of this. Seeing him with Lucas and then the ornament and the stockings,” she said as she sobbed. “When it’s all over, it’s going to break Lucas’s heart to leave here—to leave you.”
Glenda set the mugs on the coffee table and sat down next to Chelsea. “I believe in fate. They all give me a hard time about it, but I do. I hate to say it, but I think that’s what all of this is. It’s fate that you’re a nursing student, he got hurt, and you needed refuge.”
Chelsea chuckled through the tears. “You don’t think that’s stretching it a bit?”
“No, not at all. So fate made you take a detour, and you got Lucas. You wouldn’t give him up would you?”
Her heart sank. “No. Heavens, no.”
“See, everything for a reason. Look at Susan and Eric. She was in the cards to cater for me. And Dane and Gia. Well, had he not moved away, Gia would have just been another woman in town, not the woman.”
“He doesn’t want anything more than friendship from me, and I think that’s pushing it. He's cordial, but…”
Glenda patted her hand. “He doesn’t know what he wants yet. I know my son. I saw the way he looked at Lucas when you set him on his lap. That wasn’t a look of just friendship, Chelsea. And when he looks at you, well, I’ve see him look at you like that before, honey.”
“What if you’re wrong?”
“Well then, I’m wrong. But for now, you’re here, and it’s Christmas time. We’re going to make the best of it.”
“I saw the ornament on the tree that says Lucas.”
Glenda smiled wide. “He’s not afraid of Santa, is he? He’ll be dropping by on Christmas Eve.”
“You’re kidding, right?”
“I don’t kid about Christmas. I have that there so when he sits on Santa’s lap you’ll have a memento.”
The tears, which had dried, fell again. “You’re too good to us,” Chelsea said as she wiped at her cheeks.
“We love you and Lucas. All of us do,” she said as she handed Chelsea one of the mugs she’d set on the table.
For the first time in a long time, Chelsea felt that love Glenda talked about. And as she listened carefully, she could hear her son laughing from beyond the back door, and she knew he, too, felt the love they were spoiling them with.
Chapter Thirteen
Glenda had offered to give Lucas his bath, read him a story, and sit with him until Chelsea was done helping put Russell to bed.
Without protest, Russell had allowed Chelsea to drain his catheter bag, take his vitals, give him his medicines, and even agreed to let her take a warm cloth over his body so that he’d feel refreshed. Though that had been the hardest part of the night, Chelsea thought as she started.
As he sat on the edge of his bed, she removed the sling on his left arm. Carefully she pulled his shirt off of him, and her body temperature began to rise. All she could hope for was that he didn’t see the heat rise in her cheeks. This was too familiar, and much too intimate.
Gently she took the cloth over his shoulder and down his arm. For a moment she lingered on the tattoo. It was once a C for Chelsea, but he’d had it added to, and now it was a beautiful, ornate band that encircled his well-formed bicep.
She licked her lips and cleared her mind as she took the cloth across his chest to the other shoulder. Even though his right arm wasn’t injured, she took equally as much care to wipe the cloth from his shoulder to his fingers.
His eyes had closed, she noticed, as she worked the cloth around the back of his neck and then over his broad chest and firm stomach. Her breath hitched as she moved in closer to him so that she could reach around him and run the cloth down his muscular back.
She jumped when his hand came to her waist and held her where she was, extremely close to him.
Chelsea looked down at him, and his eyes were wide now looking up at her.
“It’s hard to have you this close to me,” he said. His voice was full of gravel and heat.
“That’s why you should have Karen here full time.” Her voice cracked, but she kept her body close, afraid to move.
“That isn’t what I meant.” His hand slid up her back, and she found she had to rest her hand on his right shoulder to keep her balance. “I’m mad at you. I’m mad down to my core.”
“Russ, I’m…”
“You’re sorry. You’ve said that. I’d be fine if you never said it again.” She felt the lightness of his fingertips through the fabric of her shirt, and it sent a tingle down the length of her spine. “I lied when I said we should just be friends. I thought I could do it.”
Chelsea felt her hand begin to shake. The messages she was getting were mixed. Here he was, holding her close to him, but he didn’t want to be friends. She wasn’t sure she could go on like this.
Russell lifted his chest and pressed his hand to the center of her back bringing her closer to him still.
“Chelsea, I remember the day I fell in love with you. It was Christmas, too.”
She managed a weak breath. “I remember.”
“I
fell in love tonight, too.”
She swallowed hard. “You did?”
“With Lucas.”
The tears she’d promised herself for bedtime rushed to the surface and fell just as quickly. “Russ…”
“He’s a fantastic kid, Chelsea. I thought it would be hard to see him and know where he came from. But he came from you. And…” His chest expanded as he took a deep breath and locked eyes with her. “And I’ve never stopped loving you.”
Chelsea took her free hand and covered her mouth as the sobbing continued.
“Don’t cry,” he said as he brushed away the tears on her cheeks.
“Russ, I can’t help it. I don’t know what to do with it. I don’t deserve it.”
“My mother would kill me if I said someone didn’t deserve a second chance. She thinks like that.”
That caused her to chuckle. “She puts a lot of stock in fate.”
“Yes, she does.” He lifted his hand into her hair. “I hate that I can’t stand up and lay you in this bed with me.”
“You’ll heal quickly. That’s how you work.”
He gently brushed his thumb over her cheek again. “I’m sorry I accused you.”
She stepped back from him and turned to put the cloth away. She couldn’t look at him.
“Chelsea?” His voice lost the heat, but she’d noted the panic that had risen in it.
“I should go relieve your mom,” she sniffed.
“You should turn around and talk to me. What’s going on?”
Chelsea turned to him. “Do you think I would ever want to see you physically hurt? You asking me where I was that night says that you do.”
“It was stupid. Chels…”
“It’s not stupid. It’s honest.” This is where truth and feelings always hurt the worst. “That truck was in my garage for the past two years, Russ. The night before you were hit, it was stolen.”
His eyes opened wide, and the soft demeanor had vanished. “You didn’t mention that.”
“I know,” she shouted and then turned to close the bedroom door. “I didn’t want it. You don’t know how many times I’d thought about letting it roll into the lake. So when it was stolen, that was better.”
Walker Revenge (The Walker Family Series Book 5) Page 9
