Chapter Twenty-Eight
Felicity stood at the end of Travis’ bed. She gazed at his inert figure, her emotions wrung out like an old dishrag. She couldn’t get near him. A mask was taped to his face, tubes secured to his arms. He looked like he’d been hog-tied in place so he couldn’t jump up and run away. A patient in the next bed lay mouth agape, his lips dried and cracked. Felicity shuddered, hugging arms to her body. These were the lucky ones. From what the nurse said, Travis was lucky to be alive. The bullet hit an artery. The damage had been severe. Felicity remembered the blood, remembered being frightened by the enormous soaking into his shirt.
Her instincts had been correct. Doctors said the blood loss had almost killed him.
Struggling not to crumble as doctors and nurses moved around the intensive care unit, she swallowed over the painful rock in her throat. Travis wasn’t safe yet. They said the next twenty-four hours would be crucial. It could go either way. They said she could see him but he wouldn’t know she was here. Tears surged and her lips quivered. Please, get better. Digging her hands into her bare arms, she willed him to heal. There was so much she wanted to say, so much she wanted him to know.
She never even thanked him for saving her mother.
Standing like a heel, a stump, she stared at him. His parents had been here first. They spent almost an hour with him doing God knows what. There was nothing to do! She’d waited for them to leave, counted the seconds but, now, wondered why. There was nothing they could do. He wasn’t Travis. He was a body, one more patient lying in intensive care. Pushing herself closer, she wanted to touch him, hold him. Wanted to connect.
“Travis,” she whispered. “Travis, can you hear me?”
Monitors bleeped. A machine swelled and hissed. She knew it was foolish, but she wanted him to know she was here. They’d said her mom could hear her. Deep in a coma, her mind had still been able to compute her presence. Could Travis?
Felicity touched her fingers to his arm, heartened by its warmth. Exhaling a ragged breath, a well of relief poured into her. “You’re going to be all right. The doctors say you did great.” A flutter in her chest betrayed her claim, but he didn’t know. He couldn’t feel the pound of her heart, the flock of nerves in her breast. Steadying her voice, she said, “You’re strong and healthy and you’re going to pull through this. They don’t know it’s because you think you can do anything.” A nervous laugh erupted as tears spilled free. “They don’t know how strong-minded you are, how determined. That’s why you’re going to be okay. That’s why,” she said, her voice breaking. “Because you have to. You have to, Travis.”
“Felicity.”
She whirled, startled to see Troy standing behind her. No hat, no smile, he stood rigid, seemingly uncaring to anyone who didn’t know him. But she did. Hot, fluid, his dark eyes were steeped in pain. Troy was hurting.
Felicity went to him quickly. Throwing herself against him, she wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed her face in his shoulder. “I don’t know, Troy. I don’t know if he’s going to be okay.”
Hugging her to him, he hooked his cheek to hers. “He’s got to be, Felicity. He can’t die.”
Troy’s words gave life to the fear she’d hidden away deep inside. Die. Death. Surrendering to the strength and warmth of her closest friend, Felicity let go. She unlatched the lock on her heart. Released the fear, the doubts. Tears flowed and she let them. Troy understood. He was the one person in this world who understood her pain. Friends since childhood, the three of them had been inseparable. They loved the same things, lived the same life. Troy was like family. He knew her heart. Despite his differences with Travis, their bond held strong. They were brothers. Twins. Troy loved his brother. He loved her.
Breathing in the scent of him, the round of his muscle, she cried softly into the dampened T-shirt, “He won’t leave us, Troy. He can’t.”
Cal stood on the threshold of his parent’s’ home, staring into the impassive gaze of his mother. Brightly lit lamps reflected in her eyes, light brown eyes that held no affection. He could smell the roasting scent of chicken from within, knew he’d called her from supper. Idly, he wondered after his father. Was he here? Was he waiting for her? Did he wonder at the interruption?
It was short-lived. Cal was here with a purpose. Fiddling with the ends of the envelope in his hand, he found it painful to look into his momma’s eyes and not see an invitation to come in, or the love he’d grown up with, known all his life. Love, happiness. It was all he wanted, really. Hers. His. It wasn’t his fault that life dealt her a cruel blow putting Susannah Ladd in Daddy’s life before her, his wife, the mother of his children. It wasn’t Cal’s fault his parents shared a painful past. But it was his purpose to ease her pain.
Her grief, he’d realized. After sharing the letters with Annie, Cal had come to realize what was truly eating at his mother after all these years. His wife had explained it as simple as a man could understand. Women live for love. They give it, nurture it, create new life because of it. For a woman love was the purest form of communication. It sustained them, strengthened them. It was their currency, Cal realized, but Annie explained it went further. Love was the mortar between the bricks. It built the home, provided the shelter. It was the gravity that kept a family grounded, the dreams that kept the clouds floating and the sun shining. If Victoria felt her love had been weakened, damaged, her world would feel like it was crumbling beneath her.
It was a hefty burden, but one he assumed came with the package of living.
“What do you want?” Unwilling to welcome him inside, Victoria Foster held the door half-closed, her elegantly-dressed figure a mere slice of view between door edge and frame.
“I have something for you,” he replied softly.
“You’ve already demonstrated your disdain for this family. What would I want from you now?”
“It’s not from me.” Cal offered up the letter he’d been holding. “It’s from Daddy.”
Startled, she looked down at the aged yellow envelope in his hands, but suspicion instantly bucked the surprise from her gaze. “What is that? Is this some kind of ruse he’s playing on your behalf?”
Cal shook his head, tamping back a swell of sadness. “He doesn’t know I’m giving it to you.” In fact, his daddy might be angry about him sharing the letters with Momma, but something had to give and Cal decided it had to be the past.
Victoria took the envelope, a sudden interest taking over. “What’s in it?”
Cal didn’t say a word. She tore open the flap and he watched silently as she read, his heart pitching as her expression changed. He noticed a slight tremor in her hand when she looked at him. The color had drained from her face. “Where did you get this?”
“In the attic.”
“I don’t understand...”
“What’s there to understand? He loves you, Momma. He loves you. You.”
Hazel eyes glistened in the lamplight. Soft and vulnerable, they were the pillows of love he’d known from his childhood. Questions flowed freely but not a single one did she voice. His mother was too proud.
Cal straightened, pulled his collar snug around his neck. His job was done. If she didn’t want to listen, if she wanted to overlook the facts because her heart had been injured, there was nothing he could do to prevent it. This was about her and Daddy. This was their life, their struggle. While it might affect the entire family, they were the ones holding the reins. He turned to go.
“Wait.” His mother reached out for him. “Don’t go.”
Pausing, hope funneled into him as his mother held his gaze.
“You said your father doesn’t know...”
“He doesn’t know I found the letter. He doesn’t know I’m sharing it with you.” There was no need to reveal the others. They’d only cause harm.
Her mouth broke into a nervous smile. Embarrassed. “So you know about Susannah.”
“I only know of her, the rumors, but I believe she’s the reason you’re taking up
for Jack against Delaney.”
The accusation buckled his mother’s stately image of poise and grace. It found its home, made her look small and petty, because it was true. Cal had pegged her like a bull’s eye in her heart. While Cal hated to knock her down, he hoped the truth would serve to pick her up again.
Watching her glance down at the letter, he suspected a confession hovered on her lips. Meeting his gaze directly, she said, “I’m not a perfect person, Cal.”
“None of us are, Momma.”
“I have my faults.”
“We all do.”
“I wish I could say I was above petty jealousy but I can’t.” She blinked, evading him for a moment before returning to look at him head on. “I always knew he wanted to marry her, and would have, but for the simple fact she said no.”
Cal couldn’t imagine the person who would have revealed such information to his mother. He couldn’t imagine how they could be so hateful when his mother had done nothing but follow a man from her hometown to his. Victoria Guthrie had been a young socialite from Chattanooga, an innocent woman who hadn’t been privy to the goings-on in their community before her arrival. To fill her in after the fact was downright spiteful. “We’ve all experienced a young crush, Momma, but that doesn’t mean it’s ‘meant to be.’ It’s nothing but a first kiss.”
Staring at him, she seemed rapt by his words.
“Marriage is for life,” he said, overcome by a wisdom he felt undeserved but driven to share. “It’s about building a home, a family, continuing a love through the generations. Daddy wanted that life with you. He might have loved Susannah, but he also loved you. Isn’t that enough?”
Victoria Foster pressed her lips together and nodded. Tears sprang to her eyes but she nodded, quickly, surely. She nodded, yes.
Cal remembered the words penned by his father verbatim.
Susannah, I’m writing to inform you of my engagement. Victoria Guthrie of Chattanooga has accepted my proposal for marriage. She is a beautiful woman who I am sure you would approve. Not only of excellent upbringing and education but she has a heart of pure gold, making my days shine with joy, my heart overflow with love.
I know you and Harry have been married and I wish you nothing but happiness for the years to come. Your friendship has meant the world to me and I hope you will wish the same for me. While we have shared many special moments, it occurs to me that I should tell you I cannot imagine my life going forward without Victoria. You and she will most assuredly cross paths and I wanted you to have this in your heart to hold. I am dedicating my life to Victoria.
Yours truly, Gerald.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
The fire ravaged several acres before firefighters were able to extinguish the last of it. Men in boxy suits hiked heavily up and down the hill, their horizontal reflector stripes flashing iridescently as they crossed walls of light flooding from portable lamps. Nick stood entrenched, watching the progress. He’d wanted to leave hours ago. He wanted to see Delaney, tell her how much he loved her, but his presence had been required here. After scouring the mountainside, retracing his roll down the hill with Jeremiah, he’d managed to locate the gun. The pistol Jeremiah most likely used to shoot Travis, the same one he used to shoot him. It was all the police needed to charge him with attempted murder and haul his butt to jail.
God willing, Travis wouldn’t die. According to Felicity it was still touch and go, but he was out of surgery and alive. It was all they could ask for—that and Delaney’s recovery. Add the fact the Ladd boys had been picked up on a highway outside of town, and the news was improving all around. Incredibly, Lacy had identified the two with the help of Travis’ surveillance photos. Adding a name to the mix enabled the police to identify license plates and send out an alert. Once they matched the hair sample found at the robbery scene, they could tie the men to the hotel burglary and send them away for a long time. Wicked pleasure coursed through him. Stealing a firearm in the process of robbery would chain their jail cell closed.
Unclenching his teeth, Nick massaged his jaw. The bruises on his body were beginning to ache though none of them were too serious. Muscles would heal. Buildings could be rebuilt. Trees would regrow. Nick’s only unsettled business remained that of Jillian. Somehow, some way, he had to tie her to the fire. He didn’t believe Jeremiah set off the explosive by himself. He wasn’t smart enough. But Jillian was. She was smart enough and malicious enough to blow up the stables, including every living animal inside them. She stopped by the stables the day before, which gave her access. She could have easily obtained the know-how to construct a bomb. Motive, she never lacked. Jillian was behind it, he was sure of it.
With the crisis here winding down and under control, his next goal was to connect Jillian to the cell phone. They’d located bits and pieces from the detonating device, but discovering where it was purchased would prove the challenge. Jeremiah’s cell phone had been used to call the phone, thereby triggering the explosion, but he claimed he’d lost it. Likely story. More likely he sold it to Jillian for a pretty penny. Of course there remained the business of his bail as well. Someone paid a lot of money to see him go free. Made sense it was a down payment for arson.
Turning away from the disheartening scene, Nick had about all the bad news he was going to tolerate. He strode across the stone-paved patio and up the few steps to the outdoor sidewalk. Malcolm would have some ideas. Between the two of them they could brainstorm their way through any problem.
Malcolm. What would he do without the man? Nick closed his eyes briefly as he walked by floor-to-ceiling windows along the spa. Interior lights were dim, deepening the shadows in and around overstuffed chairs and sofas positioned along the hall of windows. There wasn’t a doubt in his mind he would have killed Jeremiah if Malcolm hadn’t intervened. He would have locked his hands around Jeremiah’s throat and squeezed the life from him. A mild tremor raced through him. It was a death that evoked mixed emotion.
With the spa behind him, Nick wondered briefly as to Cal’s whereabouts. Was he at the hospital? Nick hoped not. With his daughter in town, Cal should be spending every last second with her. Family was precious. Life was short. Hotel Ladd was his job, not his entire existence.
Shouldn’t be Nick’s either. He’d been doing a lot of thinking over the last couple of days, taking stock of his life, thinking about what mattered. It had been late in his life when he found the woman of his dreams, and then to have her nearly ripped from his arms had given him pause. He’d planned on scouting the Asian continent for a new locale next year, maybe India or one of the islands, but now he wasn’t so sure. His problem wasn’t deciding on which exotic locale but convincing his wife to join him. Delaney refused to leave. She contended the horses needed her, the stable staff needed her. They weren’t ready for her departure, she argued, but Nick knew the truth. It was Delaney. Rooted deeply in her corner of the world, the slice of paradise staked out by her family before her, she wasn’t going anywhere. Maybe someday after the hotel has been opened for a year or so. Maybe when Felicity is out of college. But if Nick had learned anything from the events of late, it was that “maybe” doesn’t always come. Sometimes fate yanks you out of the game before “someday” arrives.
Swinging open the rear door to the lobby, Nick scanned the faces mingling about. Most of the guests had gone, leaving only the most curious to probe for information. Taking stock of his presence, a front desk clerk looked to him expectantly but he waved her off. He wasn’t on duty. He was on his way to the hospital.
Nick walked down the hall to the waiting room for ICU. He’d called ahead to check on Felicity, wondering how she was holding up, if she was hungry, if she needed anything. He could pick something up from Fran’s on his way but her response had been a placid refusal—Ashley had come and gone with food. Casey was keeping her company at the moment, the baby at home with grandma. While Nick was glad Felicity had company, he was worried about her. She was fair-hearted, too young and innocent to be exposed to th
e uglier side of life.
But after an attempted kidnapping and witnessing her boyfriend’s shooting by a lunatic, she could say goodbye to innocence. It had left her at the poker table with a losing hand.
Entering the room, he slowed his pace, treading softly as he took a seat beside Felicity. “Hey.”
“Hey,” Felicity replied. “Have you seen mom?”
“No. I wanted to see you first.” Nick took her hand and held it gently between his own. Warm, slender, it felt fragile, matching the shaky quality in Felicity’s gaze. Her eyes were puffy, devoid of cheer. Even the brightly colored floral blouse she wore didn’t help to paint a happy picture. Not that he could blame her. Nick was feeling pretty gloomy himself these days.
Casey stood. “I’m gonna go grab some water.”
Nick silently acknowledged her departure, then returned his attention to Felicity. He hated that she was hurting, hated that she was hit by two tragedies at once. Giving her a gentle squeeze, he said, “Travis is a strong guy. He’ll get through this, you watch and see.” She nodded but seemed detached, as though she knew the deal. There were no guarantees. “It was a brave thing he did for you. It’s obvious that boy loves you. He’ll fight to get back to you, you have to know that. Believe in the power of the spirit, the heart.” As he spoke, Nick could feel something churning inside her. There was something she wasn’t saying. Alone in the room, he brushed the loose tendrils of hair from her face. “Talk to me. Let me take some of the pain from you.”
Red-rimmed eyes peered into his. “Our last words before he was shot...our last conversation…I told him I didn’t want him interfering for me.”
“What do you mean?”
Tears welled as she averted his gaze. “He stopped by my father’s hotel room, he saw my car so he stopped and I told him—”
Losing Ladd Page 22
