And held on tight, praying with every cell of her body, as the sirens screamed through the night.
Please. He’s a good man. And we’ve only just found each other.
Don’t take him from me.
CHARLOTTE PACED her office.
How long was enough when a heart is broken?
If she lived to be a thousand, she’d never forget the look on her mother’s face.
She’d put it there. I had to tell her, didn’t I?
“Second-guessing?” Sylvie said from the doorway.
Charlotte sought her sister’s gaze. “I was wrong, wasn’t I?”
“About what? Protecting a woman who’s been hurt enough?”
“But I hurt her, maybe the worst.”
Sylvie snorted. “You always had delusions of grandeur.”
“It’s not funny.”
Sylvie’s eyes were soft. “No. No, it’s not.” She crossed Charlotte’s office. “He’s the one who did the damage, sweetie.”
Charlotte clenched her fingers. “Maybe I shouldn’t have told her. Should have confronted him instead. Told him to stay away.”
“So she’d just wonder why he’d dumped her? That’s really going to make her feel great.”
“I don’t know.” Charlotte pinched her nose. “I just—I can’t stand thinking about her, the expression on her face when I—”
Sylvie glanced at her watch. “I call it time. You’re not going to be able to settle down—none of us are—until we check on her.”
“You think?”
“Wow, you really are shaken. Big sis, asking my opinion. Be still, my heart.” She grinned.
“Smart-ass.”
Sylvie smoothed a hand over Charlotte’s hair. “Mama’s going to be okay. She’s incredibly strong.”
“Yeah. I hope.” Charlotte called out to Julie as they passed. “Tell Renee and Melanie we’re headed to Mama’s quarters. And you call my cell if something comes up.”
“Will do,” Julie said. “Hug her for me.”
Sylvie made small talk all the way down the hall and up the elevator, but Charlotte barely heard a word. At her mother’s door, she sucked in a deep, steadying breath.
And knocked. “Mama?”
No answer.
Knocked again. “It’s Sylvie and Charlotte. Please, just tell us you’re okay.”
They exchanged uneasy glances.
“Do we go in?” Sylvie asked.
“I don’t know. What if she’s asleep or something?”
At that moment, the elevator dinged, and Melanie and Renee rounded the corner. “She all right?” asked Renee.
“She’s not answering.”
“Go in,” Melanie urged. “We all have the keys she gave us.”
Charlotte debated, then pulled out her phone. “I want to respect her privacy.” The phone rang until voice mail picked up. “Oh, no.” Her fingers suddenly wouldn’t work as she fumbled with her key.
“Here, let me.” Melanie, ever impatient, pushed past the others and managed the lock.
When the door swung open, for an instant, all four of them hesitated, as if bad news lay inside.
Then Charlotte shook herself and stepped over the threshold. “Mama?” When no answer came, she moved ahead, terrified of what they might find.
No one in the bedroom, only the imprint, in the delicate curve of a sea creature, of their mother’s body on the spread.
“She’s not in the bathroom,” Renee announced. “So where is she?”
“She’s gone to him,” Sylvie said. “She never takes the easy path. She’d want to confront him herself.”
“So do we follow?” Melanie asked. “I can’t stand waiting.”
Everyone looked to Charlotte.
At that moment, her cell chirped. Every one of them jumped.
“Charlotte Marchand,” she answered.
“I don’t know how to tell you this,” Julie said. “Mercy Hospital just called. It’s your mother.”
Charlotte’s knees gave way. “Oh, dear God. Is she—”
“They won’t give me the information. They want to talk to you.”
“Give me the number.” With shaking fingers, she punched in the digits while her sisters crowded round, asking questions she couldn’t answer.
Oh, Mama. Oh, Mama, what have I done to you?
After what felt like years, she was transferred to the nursing station. She listened carefully, all the while staring into her sisters’ frightened eyes.
Then she disconnected.
“Mama’s been hurt. An attempted carjacking, they think.”
Melanie made a sound of distress. She was the one who’d insisted their mother not sell the Corvette.
Sylvie began to cry, and Charlotte wanted to join her.
“She’s going to be okay,” she managed. “She was beaten up pretty badly, but apparently, she put up quite a fight. But—”
“What?” Renee demanded.
“It’s William. He was shot, defending her. And he may not make it.”
A stunned silence strung out.
Then Melanie spoke, though her voice was shaky.
“I’ll get my car. Meet you downstairs.”
JUDITH WAS PACKING up her office and weeping at the same time. How could he? Tears raged through her at intervals, and she knew her father would counsel her to wait before making such a sweeping decision.
But her father’s advice meant nothing to her now. Had he ever really loved her or only considered her a burden? Pitied her or honestly cared?
Of course, he said he loved her, but how could he, if he’d pull something like this? She paused to blow her nose, then started through the next drawer of her desk.
“Judith.”
She glanced up. “Glen?” Oh, great. Her humiliation was complete. “You probably wonder why—” She indicated the boxes.
He crossed to her. “Judith,” he said again, and his tone sank in on her with a shiver.
“What is it?”
He gripped her upper arms. “It’s your father. He’s been shot.”
Her eyes flew wide open. “Shot? But what— Who would— Is he—how badly is he hurt?”
“Come on. I’ll drive you to Mercy.” With an arm around her shoulders, he started to walk.
“No. Tell me. It’s bad, isn’t it?” She covered her mouth. “Is he—” She couldn’t say it.
“He’s alive, but his condition is critical. They’re taking him into surgery.”
“Oh, Glen. I just—” She started shaking. “He—we—we had a terrible fight. Oh, God, if he dies—”
“Your father is tough. If anyone can pull through, he will.”
“Oh, God, oh, God—” She started searching for her car keys. “I have to get to him.”
“I’m having a car brought around front.” Glen took her arm and steadied her as she broke into sobs. “Hold on, Judith. He’s going to be okay. We have to believe it.”
If I lose him, I will never forgive myself.
Terrified and shaking, Judith let Glen lead her out.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
ANNE PUSHED BACK the blanket the nurse had placed on her when she couldn’t stop shivering and slipped down from the gurney she’d been left on while waiting for her X-rays to come back.
She was halfway across the floor of the cubicle on her way to ask again about William when the drapes flew back—
And her girls rushed to surround her.
“Mama—oh, Mama, where are you hurt—”
“What are you doing out of the bed?”
They surrounded her, all talking at once, her girls, and she clutched at them for strength. “I’m all right,” she soothed.
“You’re not. Look at you. You’re all bruised, and—”
All of them were worried, but Charlotte was a wraith. “Mama, I’ll never forgive myself. What have I done?”
Anne reached for her and stifled a gasp when Charlotte hugged her tight.
“Oh. Oh, I’m so sorry. Where are you hurt?”
“I’m fine. Just sore. Come here.”
Gingerly, Charlotte complied. She held her mother carefully and pressed their heads together. “Mama, I—”
“Hush,” she said. “Not a word of that. I can’t think about any of it now. I have to find someone to tell me what’s going on with William.” Realizing Charlotte would do better with a mission, she gave her one. “Get me out of here, Charlotte.”
“We’ll take you home, Mama,” Sylvie said.
“No. I’m not leaving until I know if William—” She swallowed a lump the size of North America. “He has to make it. I only want out of this—gown. I want my clothes. I need—” Her voice cracked. “I need to be with him.”
“But he’s in surgery,” Melanie pointed out.
“I know. But I have to be as close as I can get.” She pinned her eldest. “Talk to them, Charlotte Anne.”
Charlotte nodded. “As good as done.” She left, and Anne knew that nothing short of God himself would stop her.
Relief made her head light. She swayed.
“Mama!” Renee steadied her. “Get back in bed.”
“No. I—”
“Please,” said Sylvie. “Just until Charlotte springs you.” With a move as smooth as any she’d ever managed herself, Sylvie had her back in the bed before she realized what had happened. “Have they run tests?”
“That’s what they’re waiting on, X-rays and blood work. But it’s been forever.”
“I’ll go see what I can find out about William,” Renee offered.
“Oh, chère, thank you. And hurry back, please. He—he was shot, saving me.”
“Can you tell us what happened?” Melanie asked.
Renee’s steps slowed.
“Please, chère, go on. I’ll tell it all again, but I have to—” Tears filled her eyes. “He has to make it. I love him.”
Renee nodded and left.
Sylvie’s own eyes were bright. “Oh, Mama…”
“He’s a good man. He wasn’t doing anything underhanded. I’m certain of that now.” She blinked to clear her vision. “I should have been all along. He was only protecting me. He’s very strong-willed and accustomed to taking charge. I don’t say I wasn’t angry, because I was, but—” She covered her lips. Bit them. “Oh, please,” she whispered. “Please give me a chance to take it back.”
Sylvie and Melanie flanked her, squeezing her hands. Stroking her hair. “Shh, Mama,” Sylvie said. “Let’s pray for him, shall we? We can hear the story later.”
Anne gripped their hands tightly and took comfort in the sound of Sylvie’s voice. The three of them huddled in silence, then, and slowly, Anne’s terror receded. She was borne up by her daughters’ love and felt faint stirrings of hope.
The girls settled, each on one side of her, the warmth of their bodies seeping into the chill of her own.
And Anne offered up silent pleas for the return of the man she wanted more time to love.
IT FELT LIKE DAYS but was less than an hour before Charlotte worked her magic.
An odd sensation, for a mother, to be dressed by the children for whom she’d once performed the service, but Anne was too sore to manage by herself.
And there was a soothing that came from simple human touch. It could sweep right past words to the heart of things.
Renee popped in again, this time with a fragment of news. “He’s still alive, Mama. They hope it won’t be much longer before the surgeon comes out.”
“Thank you,” Anne murmured. “Oh, thank you.” She held out a hand to Renee. “I can’t tell you how much it helped to have you up there.” She looked around. “I’m going upstairs.” She waited for objections.
Their faces were grim, but, as so often before, her daughters ranged themselves around her.
And, whatever they believed of William, offered her their full support.
JUDITH WAS PACING the surgical waiting room. Glen had left to make some phone calls, as cell phones weren’t allowed in this part of the hospital.
It was just as well. She was useless for small talk, and no one would tell her anything.
Except that her father was still alive.
When the door opened, she whirled, hoping for news—
But stopped in shock. She had never met Anne Marchand, but she’d seen her pictures.
The woman in the doorway was battered and hardly the elegant creature one would expect, but there was a dignity about her still.
And if Judith had had any doubts about her identity, the blazing eyes of Charlotte Marchand and her sisters would have cleared them. Judith didn’t move, uncertain how to feel. From what the police had told her, her father had been shot trying to rescue this woman from an attempted carjacking, yet he’d inexplicably tried to buy her hotel from under her. To make matters more confusing, when Judith had confronted him, he’d seemed more concerned about Anne’s reaction than her own.
The awkward silence stretched out.
Then Anne Marchand came toward her.
“Mama—” Charlotte reached out as though to stop her.
“I’ll be fine,” Anne murmured. She made her way with slow steps, obviously in physical pain.
But her eyes revealed pain of another sort. Judith had no idea what to say to her.
Anne took her hand. “You’re Judith. William has told me how proud he is of you.”
Judith’s eyes swam with tears.
“He saved my life. I was—” Anne’s own eyes were wet. “I was awful to him, and he still—” Her hand squeezed Judith’s.
Judith squeezed back. “So was I.”
Anne looked startled for a second, then spoke again. “Whatever is tangled between our families, right now we have something very important in common, and it overshadows all else. You must be frightened, and so am I. Will you sit with me, Judith, and we’ll keep vigil together for a man we both love?”
Her words were said with such emotion, such reverence, that Judith found herself leaning into Anne’s quiet strength. “I can’t think,” she admitted. “If he dies—”
“He won’t,” Anne said firmly. “We have to believe that. I won’t lose him.”
Judith was reminded that this woman had lost a man she loved once before. This must be incredibly painful for her, waiting and not knowing—
“Please.” She gestured to the chair beside her. “Won’t you sit down? I’d—I’d like very much to wait with you. If—” She cast a glance at a frowning Charlotte. “If you think your daughters won’t mind. I don’t really understand all that’s going on with your hotel and The Regency, but—”
“Shh, dear.” Anne, though several inches shorter than her, patted Judith’s shoulder and made her feel cherished. “None of that matters in the face of William’s struggle.” Her voice wobbled, but her shoulders were straight, her eyes kind and comforting. “Everything else can be worked out later.” Gently, Anne sat and drew Judith with her.
Then she looked at her daughters. “Renee, please see if you can find us tea, would you? Sylvie, who is with Daisy Rose?”
“Jefferson has her.”
“Good for him. Melanie, does Robert know where you are?”
Melanie smiled. “I’ll call him, now that you’re okay.”
“She’s not okay,” Charlotte challenged. “She should be home in bed.”
Anne arched one eyebrow. “But I’m not. Should you be back at the hotel?”
“They know how to reach me. Julie and Luc are staying late and dissuading the entire hotel staff from charging over here to check on you.”
“I’ll bet none of you have had dinner.” She turned to Judith. “Are you hungry, dear?”
Judith shook her head. “I couldn’t.”
Anne smiled sadly. “Nor I.” She glanced over at her daughters. “Why don’t you go see what there is for you and your sisters after you call Robert, Melanie.”
“You need to eat, too, Mama,” Charlotte argued. “You’re injured.”
“Then you go find something small fo
r me, Charlotte. And Sylvie, you help Melanie carry.” With the efficiency of a small general, she dispatched her daughters, however unwilling they were to leave her.
Judith began to see why this woman fascinated her father.
Anne settled into her chair and patted Judith’s hand, which she hadn’t let go. “Now, there. My girls will come around, chère, but for now, we’ll just wait by ourselves. Do you want to talk?”
Judith had endured all the strained conversation she could bear, with her nerves screaming. “I don’t know what to say, Mrs. Marchand.”
Another pat. “Then we won’t talk. But I’m here if you change your mind, and please call me Anne. You’re not alone, dear. And William will be all right. He’s a very stubborn man.” Judith could feel her fingers trembling, but Anne’s voice was steady and calm.
A little of Judith’s panic eased, with this formidable woman at her side. She put some effort into aiding Anne’s attempt to put the best face on things. “He’s the strongest person I know.”
Anne nodded her approval. “And we’re strong women.” As if that insured his recovery.
Judith’s heart lightened a little. Anne’s presence fortified her.
And if anyone up there were listening, she could not imagine that Anne Marchand’s will would not make an impression.
Judith drew her first deep breath of the evening.
And squeezed the hand of the woman who obviously loved her father.
Oh, Daddy, come back to me.
She cast a glance at the woman beside her, bruised and battered but resolute. Eyes closed, her lips moving slightly as if in prayer.
Come back to both of us, she amended.
THE NIGHT DRAGGED ON. Anne’s food was untouched, her tea barely tasted. Weariness sank deep into her bones, and she was getting stiff from sitting so long.
But she betrayed none of that to the young woman beside her, so frightened for her father, or to her girls, who would surely push for her to go somewhere and lie down.
All Anne could think was that she had been thousands of miles away when Remy was dying, and she couldn’t leave William, no matter how long this took. With effort, she tamped down, once again, the panic that wanted to rise into her throat. A thousand times in her memory, she’d heard the shot. Had seen William fall.
Love Is Lovelier Page 17
