The Devoted Groom

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The Devoted Groom Page 11

by Cami Checketts


  “I love that you’re trying everything you can to help. Let’s get through the next appointment before we worry about the idea being wrong.” But inside, he was thinking the theory was off. He wouldn’t put it past Jessica to try to convince Tate not to speak, especially as he and Bree had both heard him say in his sleep, “Don’t go, Mama.” Yet so far, the nurses hadn’t confirmed the theory at all.

  “The last lady, Emily, won’t be here until after eight. She works a twelve-hour shift at the hospital from seven to seven.”

  Bree nodded.

  “Why don’t we swim before dinner?”

  “I’d love that.” Bree’s face lit up.

  Ryder felt his worries lift at that happy face. He glanced down at Tate. “Should we swim, buddy?”

  Tate grinned and nodded.

  “Oh, I almost forgot.” Ryder inclined his head toward the mudroom. “Navy left a bag for you.”

  “A bag of what?” Bree walked through the main area into the kitchen and then to the mudroom. On the counter there was a sack that said Nani Swimwear on it. “What’s this?”

  “I may have mentioned that you didn’t have a swimsuit.” His neck heated up. What if Bree got embarrassed or upset?

  “What? Navy probably thinks I’m a loser.”

  “She thinks you’re amazing. She told me several times.” He pointed at the sack. “Different companies give her lots and lots of fitness clothing, gear, and gadgets. Everybody is hoping that she’ll endorse them. She had a bunch of suits on hand that she thought you might like.”

  Bree tentatively approached the sack and pulled out a striped burgundy, white, and navy-blue one-piece. She loved it on sight. She held it up and spun to him. “This isn’t charity? She really has way too many suits?”

  Ryder nodded.

  Bree clutched the suit to her chest. “Thank you!” She picked up the entire bag and threw her arms around his neck, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek before taking off out of the laundry room. “Hurry and get dressed,” she called over her shoulder.

  Ryder glanced down at Tate, who was watching Bree go. “She’s the best, right buddy?”

  Tate looked up at him and nodded. Ryder hugged his little guy close. He obviously understood everything going on around him. Why couldn’t they break through and get him to speak?

  Chapter Fifteen

  Bree tried on all seven of the swimsuits that were in the bag. She hated being away from Ryder and Tate, but this was almost as exciting as trying on the fancy dress that Ryder had bought her yesterday for the auction. It felt as if much longer than one day had passed since they shopped together and then all the craziness with those men and Jasmine. She pushed it away and enjoyed trying on brand-new swimsuits, each with a unique flair and flattering fit. Too much fun.

  Finally, she settled on a pale blue floral halter top and matching bottoms. She hurried from her room without a cover-up, towel, or shoes. There would be towels poolside, and she could hardly wait for Ryder to see her in the suit.

  She jogged out the back door. It was a beautiful evening, probably close to seventy. She could see Ryder and Tate already splashing in the pool. Running, she hollered, “Watch out!”

  Ryder glanced up at her, and his eyes widened as she launched into the pool and made a huge splash. She came up and pushed her hair out of her eyes. “Whoo-hoo! That was a good one.”

  Ryder laughed, and Tate was grinning at her. He put his hands out to her. Bree opened her arms, and Ryder tossed Tate to her. She caught the boy with a splash, and he laughed so cutely.

  “Do you want to float on your back?” she asked him.

  He nodded.

  Bree laid him back, helping him make his stomach big and relax his head into the water like a pillow. She got where she only had two fingers under his head, and it was more for his reassurance.

  Ryder came around behind her and wrapped his arms around her abdomen. His hands were warm on her flesh. His bare chest pressed against her back. Bree’s stomach swooped, and her heart raced.

  “You look so good,” he said close to her ear, sending warm shivers through her body.

  She arched her head back. “Thanks for the suits. That was so thoughtful of you.”

  “Thank Navy.”

  Tate got bored of floating and struggled up. He pointed at the edge of the pool. Ryder kept one arm around Bree, and they moved to the edge together. Tate jumped off the side over and over again.

  Bree glanced at Ryder. “Even if things don’t work out with the nurse tonight, it’s okay.”

  Ryder nodded. “You’re right.”

  “I am?”

  “I’ve got you and Tate here. It doesn’t matter if he never speaks as long as we have each other.”

  Bree leaned against his shoulder, feeling deeply the rightness of this moment as Tate launched into his dad’s arms again. She wanted to have the two of them in her life permanently. Old fears resurfaced, and she wondered if the dream would ever really come true for her. Every other person she’d wanted to stay close to in her life had left her. What if it happened with Ryder and Tate too?

  Chapter Sixteen

  Ryder was nervous through dinner and waiting for the last nurse. He’d told Bree the truth. She and Tate were all he needed, but he still wanted his son to have a full life, and without speaking, that would be difficult. Yet other people dealt with more severe disabilities than speech. It would be okay, it just might take some time for him to reconcile his dreams of Tate’s life with the reality of him never communicating verbally. It didn’t make him love Tate one bit less. It was just an adjustment in Ryder’s thinking and would take some work to help Tate communicate effectively in other ways. Hopefully, his little man wouldn’t get teased like Mack used to. The schools were a lot more on top of stuff like that nowadays, right?

  Bree was dressed in a white button-down shirt and red dress pants. She’d let her hair trail down her back in curls rather than make it big like she usually did. He loved it any way she did it, but her not making it big, to take the focus off her face like she’d told him, felt like she was trusting him to love her for her, not just for her gorgeous face.

  They were playing a game of three-player war with face cards. Ryder knew his son was smart. At four and a half, he knew all his numbers and easily kept up with the game, figuring out who had the highest card and when a war should take place.

  The doorbell rang. Ryder stood from the sofa. “I’ll get it.”

  Bree smiled up at him. She stood and held out her hand for Tate. He grasped her fingers. “Why don’t we all get it?”

  He nodded his thanks. Apparently, she knew how uncertain he was. This felt like the final hope for Tate. Not that he and Bree wouldn’t keep hoping and helping Tate with his opportunities to speak, but if there was no insight from the nurse tonight, maybe he’d have to change his focus and his dreams for his boy. Bree was insightful and talented though, so he wouldn’t give up hope.

  They walked to the door together. It felt like they were a family, so much more than any family he and Jessica had ever had. He’d shared how shallow and stupid he’d been in his relationship with Jessica, and Bree hadn’t judged him or treated him any differently. She was a unique and amazing lady. He just prayed he could keep her with him and Tate.

  He released his grip on Bree’s waist to swing the door open wide. The last of Jessica’s nurses, Emily, smiled at him, but her focus went straight to Tate. She was a petite brunette probably in her thirties. “There’s the little man. Look how big you’ve gotten.”

  Tate just smiled at her.

  Emily’s face filled with concern, and she looked to Bree. “Hello. I’m Emily Shanfield.”

  “Bree Stevens.” They shook hands. “I’m Tate’s speech pathologist.”

  Ryder wanted to protest that she was so much more than that to Tate and him, but he didn’t think now was the time. He gestured Emily into the house. “Please, come sit down.”

  They walked quietly into the main living room, and Emil
y settled into a loveseat with Ryder, Bree, and Tate on a couch perpendicular to her. Ryder wondered if they should have Tate go color, but the other nurses hadn’t said anything that would help or hurt Tate.

  “Tate’s having trouble with speech?” Emily asked immediately.

  Ryder nodded. “He hasn’t spoken since Jessica died.”

  Emily sucked in a breath. Her eyes were wary as they darted from Tate to Ryder to Bree. “Why haven’t you called me before this?”

  Ryder lifted his shoulders. “Should I have?”

  Emily looked down at her lap. She seemed to be having an inner battle.

  “Emily.” Bree’s voice was soft, understanding. “Did you ever overhear Jessica asking Tate not to speak after she left?”

  Emily sighed and shook her head.

  Ryder’s stomach dropped. This was their last hope for some answers, and it appeared this nurse was like all the rest. No help.

  Emily kept looking at the three of them. Then she tilted her head up. “Do you understand that nurses are just like doctors with client-nurse privileges?”

  Ryder nodded, but then a spark lit in his mind. “If I rephrase the question will you nod or shake your head?”

  A long silence stretched on. Emily was clasping her hands so tightly her fingers were turning white. Finally, Emily said, “I always thought you were a good husband and father no matter how much Jessica complained. If it can help Tate”—her lips thinned—“I’ll nod or shake my head.”

  The breath rushed out of Ryder. Bree squeezed his leg. He waited, wondering if she wanted to pose the questions, but Emily had said she’d answer him. He’d paid for Jessica’s care. Did that give him any more rights?

  “Did Jessica ask Tate not to speak?” he asked first.

  Emily paused and then nodded her head quickly.

  Ryder felt like he’d been gut-punched. The theory was one thing, but to know Tate’s mother would do something like this to him made his stomach roll.

  “Did you hear her ask him repeatedly not to speak after she passed?”

  Emily nodded again.

  He tried to think of other questions to phrase. Would Tate really still obey his mother after eight months? Jessica had obviously been delusional and desperate at the end, but this was still a low blow. She knew how it had hurt him to have Mack not speak and get teased. It felt like she’d chosen this as her final punishment to Ryder.

  “Did Jessica ever threaten Tate not to speak?”

  Emily stared at him and finally shook her head quickly.

  The pause made him think he needed to rephrase the question. “Did Jessica threaten me if Tate spoke after she passed?”

  She nodded quickly.

  Bree gasped beside him. He wondered if she was thinking Jessica had been a monster. He was, yet he knew the cancer had messed with her head, and her parents’ refusal to take her home for her last months on earth had broken her.

  “Jessica told Tate that harm would come to me if he spoke?”

  Another quick nod.

  Ryder wished the lady would just talk to him and tell him everything she’d heard, but it was impressive that she wanted to honor her oath she’d made as a nurse. At least, now they knew the reason Tate wasn’t speaking. They talked a little bit longer, but didn’t gather anything specific, so they thanked Emily profusely and walked her to the door.

  The sun had gone down, but it was still semi-light outside. They all stood in the doorframe watching the rear lights of her Chevy Tahoe as she drove away. When the vehicle disappeared in the trees, Ryder opened his arms to Tate. His son came quickly, and he lifted him up. “Tate. Your mom was very sick when she died. She didn’t know what she was saying.” He paused to see if Tate was comprehending. Finally, the little boy nodded. “Nobody is going to hurt daddy if you talk.”

  Tate simply stared at him. Ryder’s heart was beating so hard it hurt.

  “Do you understand buddy? Daddy won’t get hurt if you talk. Mama was wrong to tell you that.”

  Tate nodded, and Ryder prayed he’d say something, anything.

  “Please talk, Tate.” His voice broke. “Daddy won’t get hurt if you talk,” he said again.

  “Somebody’s going to hurt daddy if the girl doesn’t talk.”

  Ryder’s head whipped up. The voice came from the side of the porch. A man dressed all in black with dirt smudges on his face and a long tear in his shirt had a gun pointed straight at them. Ryder handed Tate to Bree and pushed them both behind him.

  “Remember me?” the man asked.

  Ryder nodded. “You’re the guy that got away last night.”

  Bree gasped behind him and pressed harder against his back. He could feel her body trembling.

  “Yep. Now, your girl needs to tell me what her sister did with Troy.”

  “Her sister told her last night to stay away from her. They have no relationship.” Ryder’s palms were clammy. How had this guy gotten through his gate? Would the security cameras pick him up when he was so close to the house? Even if a camera swept over them, would the company be watching closely enough to realize what was going on?

  The guy’s brow furrowed.

  “Why don’t you leave before my security shows up?” Ryder kept his shoulders back and his voice unemotional and steady. He didn’t know if security would show up or not. He’d never had a safety issue before, so he didn’t know how long it would take them to respond. They might not even know there was a problem.

  The guy looked at him, as if considering it, but then he pointed the gun higher and stepped closer. “No! If I don’t find Troy, I’ll have nothing. He owes me a fat load of money, and her sister”—he paused to glare at Bree—“dragged him away last night. I’ve been waiting at our spot, and he never came. I found out where you live and have been waiting outside the gate for my opening for the last two hours. I rode in on that lady’s back bumper. Now, you’re going to help me, or I’m going to shoot you.”

  Ryder had no clue how to reason with this guy. You can’t reason with the unreasonable, his dad was fond of saying. The saying made his gut churn even more. Nobody was hurting Bree or Tate. “Look.” He held up his hands. “You let my girl and son go inside, and I’ll get you a ‘fat load of money.’ I’ve got over a hundred grand in my safe.”

  The guy’s eyes lit up. “Where’s your safe?”

  “Let them go, and I’ll take you to it.” He couldn’t care less about the money. If the guy would let Bree and Tate go hide safely in her bedroom, Bree would call the police. Even if this guy shot Ryder, at least Bree and Tate would have a chance.

  “No deal.” The guy shook his head. “I’m not letting her go call the cops. We’ll stay together. You’ll open your safe and give me your cash. Then I’ll leave.”

  Ryder was shaking his head.

  “You have no choice here!” The man roared.

  Ryder sensed movement behind the man. He glanced over at the trees as three black shadows appeared.

  The man turned, and Ryder saw his opening. He leapt off the porch, sprinting at the man. The guy whipped back around as Ryder dove, tackling him into the flower bed. He heard the gun discharge and a scream. He grabbed the man’s wrist and squeezed with both hands, keeping him pinned down with his body. The man growled in frustration, hitting at him with his free hand. Ryder released his right hand and elbowed him hard in the jaw.

  A small black shadow was upon them and stomped on the man’s wrist then ripped the gun from his fingers.

  Ryder slammed his fist into the guy’s face then jumped to his feet, not sure if these new arrivals were friends or foes.

  The small figure put her hands up. It was Jasmine.

  “It’s all right, big guy. I won’t hurt you,” she said, winking at him.

  Ryder’s shoulders relaxed. Another man in black was dragging the man away from Ryder’s feet, the man was writhing and cursing. Ryder whipped around. Bree and Tate were on the porch. They both looked unharmed. They both looked perfect. The breath rushed out of him.r />
  A man who was almost his height and reminded him a lot of James Bond, down to the pristine suit and handgun strode up to him. “We apologize for infiltrating your property, Mr. Quinn.” He even had an English accent. He shifted the gun to his left hand and stuck out his right. “Sutton Smith. Pleasure to meet you.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Bree clung to Tate as she watched the drama unfold around her. Ryder had leapt from the porch like some crazy superhero. Then Jasmine had shown up and helped him disarm the guy. She had a couple of tough-looking guys in suits with her and one man who looked like a really muscular James Bond. It was nuts.

  The men hauled off the bad guy, and James Bond came and introduced himself as Sutton Smith, explaining that her sister worked for him. They’d known to come because the leader from the other night, Troy, had finally admitted to them that his guy would probably come after them.

  “So you’re the good guys?” Bree asked.

  “We like to think so.” He smiled patiently at her. He turned to Jasmine. “Would you like a few minutes with your sister?” he asked. “We can wait outside the gate.”

  “Thank you, sir.” The level of respect in Jasmine’s voice astounded Bree. The Jasmine she remembered treated most adults with either humor or contempt.

  He inclined his head to her. “Nice to meet you,” he said to Bree and Ryder.

  “You as well,” Ryder said.

  Bree couldn’t find her voice. They’d been threatened by some man, on Ryder’s property, and now, Jasmine was here again. Did this mean Jasmine cared? That they had a chance to form a relationship as adults?

  She focused on Ryder. His jaw was tight, and his blue eyes darker. He was obviously upset, and who could blame him? Did he blame her for bringing this threat to him and Tate? Her stomach sank at the thought.

  “Why don’t you talk in my office,” Ryder said.

 

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