Читать книгу Bachelor Protector - Julianna Morris, Julianna Morris - Страница 13
ОглавлениеBACK AT THE SUITE, Tyler found his mother had kept the food warm so they could eat together. It was an awkward meal that might have gone better if family dinners had been a Prentiss tradition. But even on holidays, his parents had attended social events.
After they finished eating, he cleared his throat.
“Nathan, as you know, I talked to Dr. Chin at the rehab center today. He’s sending recommendations for you to follow while you’re here in California. Since Mom has a job, I’ll be taking you to your appointments. Unless you decide to return to rehab, that is.”
His brother glared. “That isn’t happening. And I don’t need his recommendations. I’m doing fine. As for appointments, if I never see another doctor, I’ll be happy.”
Rosemary straightened. “That isn’t what we agreed to when you wanted to leave the rehab center. I’ve let it go longer than I intended, but don’t think I’ve forgotten.”
It was nice to see she hadn’t completely lost touch with reality. Tyler had envisioned her believing that love and sunshine would be enough to resolve Nathan’s PTSD and restore him physically. While it might be possible, he’d do a whole lot better with treatment.
Tyler leaned forward. “I don’t suppose a tiny town like Glimmer Creek has many medical services. We’ll probably have to drive to the nearest city for doctors and therapy.”
His brother looked ready to argue, so Tyler fixed him with a hard stare. “In the hospital, you told me you wanted to go back on active duty. That isn’t likely to happen without therapy. Or have you decided to leave the service?”
Resentment flickered in Nathan’s eyes. “I don’t want a medical discharge. The army is going to do a medical review in a few months to determine my fitness.”
Tyler ached, suspecting Nathan questioned whether he could pass the review. Maybe he couldn’t. Maybe he no longer wanted to return to active duty—after his personal tour of hell, nobody would blame him for deciding he’d had enough.
“We don’t have to talk about this now, do we?” their mother asked in a shaky voice, and Tyler looked at her sharply. Her eyes were wide and her cheeks were pale.
“No,” he and his brother said in unison. Taking care of her was an old habit.
Nathan put his hand over hers. “It’s okay, Mom, I’m just feeling sorry for myself.”
“You’re entitled.”
“Naw, but don’t worry, I’ll see a doctor. Right now I’m tired, so I’m going to lie down.”
She smiled shakily. “Is there anything I can get you?”
Nathan shook his head and limped out of the kitchen.
Tyler turned to his mother.
“Did you have to mention him going back on active duty?” she asked tearfully. “He’s sacrificed enough.”
“It’s important. Nathan has to want to get better. Deciding what he wants and how to get it will motivate him.”
“I realize that. And I’m sorry I didn’t get him to a doctor earlier. He’s just so much calmer here, and I wanted to give him time. Besides, Kurt is good for him. They’ve shared a lot of the same experiences, and Nathan respects his opinion.”
“Some of Nathan’s doctors and therapists at the Walter Reed Medical Center were combat vets, too. What makes Kurt Fullerton different?”
“He just is.”
She began clearing the table, shaking her head when he offered to help. So Tyler got out his laptop to send an email to his office, asking them to ship basic drafting equipment to him at Poppy Gold. He didn’t know how long he’d have to be in California, but he had commissions with deadlines and couldn’t sit idly by.
Yet he kept shooting worried looks at his mom, who was now fussing with the refrigerator. His relationship with his father might have been complicated, but his death had shaken Tyler to the core. When it came to his mother, he didn’t want to confront feelings like that again for a very long time.
* * *
THE FOLLOWING AFTERNOON, Rosemary worked at the bakery’s front counter to stay out of the way of the building inspection, but as soon as Stephen Seibert left, she hurried to the office and saw Sarah looking tense.
“Is something wrong?” Rosemary asked. “You can’t have failed the inspection.”
“I passed, but Stephen told me the county is expecting to implement new building codes next year. I meet the state codes, but not all the new ones that have been proposed for Glimmer County. So I’ll have to remodel. Again.”
“How long do you have to comply?”
“Within twelve months of the effective date. The problem is there may not be enough space to enlarge the kitchens. Stephen will send a detailed analysis in a few days.” Sarah squared her shoulders and smiled brightly. “But don’t worry, I’ll figure it out. In the meantime, I’d better get busy with tasks that need doing today.”
Rosemary kept wondering how she could help, but all she could think of was to get Tyler involved. He was a gifted architect, and he might be able to come up a plan.
Except Tyler might resist. He seemed determined to stay in Glimmer Creek as long as she and Nathan were here, but he was also uncomfortable with the idea of his mother working.
When Kurt had learned about Tyler’s reaction to her job, he’d chuckled and asked if her son was worried about becoming a latchkey kid. It had made her laugh, as well, but it had also made her think. As a family they’d gone through a tremendous upheaval over the past year. Maybe that explained why Tyler didn’t want to see his mother in a new way.
Would that affect his willingness to help Sarah?
There was only one way to find out, so as soon as Rosemary got back to the Yosemite suite after work, she told Tyler about the building inspector’s news.
“She’ll need expert advice from an architect,” she concluded. “I wondered if you could take a quick look and tell her what you think.”
Tyler sighed. “I have commissions to work on while I’m here. My office is sending a drafting table and everything else I need by overnight courier.”
“Just consider it,” Rosemary implored. “What they’re asking seems terribly unfair, and you might be able to think of options the building inspector didn’t.”
* * *
“ALL RIGHT, I’LL make time,” Tyler agreed reluctantly.
On the rare occasions he’d encountered his mother’s friends since starting his career, he’d discovered they loved to get free professional services, no matter how wealthy they might be. Sarah would probably appreciate a free consult, even from him.
“Thank you, dear,” his mother said. “What would you like for dinner?”
“Order whatever you want. I’m not hungry. I thought I’d explore the town. Maybe I’ll stop by the bakery and see if Sarah wants to talk about the remodeling,” he added impulsively.
His mother’s face brightened. “That would be wonderful. She should still be there.”
Tyler’s mood was wry as he walked to Sarah’s Sweet Treats. Volunteering his advice was the diplomatic thing to do. His mother hadn’t accused him of calling in the complaint, but the faint doubt he’d seen in her eyes bothered him. He didn’t expect blind faith, but she could have asked.
Or maybe he was just being unreasonable and the thought had never occurred to her.
After all, he felt guilty for what had happened in Illinois, if only for failing to convince the owner that the design changes weren’t safe. Knowing it was the new architect’s responsibility wasn’t enough to absolve him of all blame. So maybe he was more sensitive than he needed to be.
Though it was late in the afternoon, the scents emanating from the sweet shop were richly tantalizing. Tyler opened the door and saw customers still crowding the small waiting and sitting area.
Sarah was working with two other employees, filling orders and chatting with the customers. She flicked a glance in his direction and her mouth tightened. A few minutes later, she flipped the Open sign to Closed, but it was another fifteen minutes before everyone was gone.
When it was quiet, she walked over to him. “Do you need something?”
“Mom mentioned you might need some renovations because of upcoming building code changes. She asked me to see if I can make some suggestions.”
An interesting expression crossed Sarah’s face. “That isn’t necessary. I don’t even have the full analysis from the building inspector yet.”
While Tyler had been reluctant to offer his advice, he also wasn’t used to having his services rejected. “Then maybe when you get it.”
“I don’t—” She broke off and looked at her two front-counter employees. “Hey, guys, you don’t need to stay and clean up. Put a half hour of overtime on your timesheets, and I’ll see you tomorrow.”
The pair left and Sarah sat opposite Tyler at the small café table. “I’m not sure why you’d offer, but it isn’t necessary. I’ll figure it out.”
“Is there any possibility of protesting the changes? Usually there’s a public comment period when regulations are changing.”
“I...” Sarah started to yawn and clapped a hand over her mouth. “Sorry, I’m short on sleep. I could protest, but the proposed rules aren’t bad. They only affect me because the restaurant and catering side of my business has gotten so huge. If I’d known code changes were coming, I would have bought a larger building to start with. Now I may need to relocate, which is too bad, because I get a huge amount of foot traffic from the tour buses.”
“That’s an even better reason for me to take a look,” Tyler said, unsure why he was pushing the issue. “Besides, a year isn’t that long when it comes to this sort of thing. If nothing else, it can be difficult to book contractors. You must have experience with that after your previous remodels.”
“Actually, my father and other family members insisted on doing most of the work,” Sarah murmured.
* * *
AS TYLER NODDED, Sarah thought about the preliminary report the building inspector had given her. She hated the idea of going into debt again, but the worst part was not knowing if another remodel was possible. She didn’t see how an extra inch of space could be gained without reducing the already-small customer area, and even that might not be enough.
“Do you think your family would be willing to help do the work again?” Tyler asked.
Sarah fought an unreasonable panic at the thought of losing her independence, which always came when she relied too heavily on family. She hadn’t been married to Douglas for that long, but she was still repairing the damage he’d done to her self-confidence.
She’d let her father take charge of the previous renovations because it had saved her a ton of money and it meant so much to him. Yet it had also made her uneasy...she was just too aware of how easy it was to start depending on someone else. Maybe some people were naturally stronger, but life had already shown how easily she could lose herself.
“I’m sure they’d want to help,” she admitted, “but they’re busy and I hate inconveniencing them.” She didn’t add that it might be impossible to stop them.
“But it’s good for the town, right? My mom mentioned this is the only bakery.”
“Yes. I always thought we needed one growing up. Even when I went to college I wanted to come back here and open this place. The plan was derailed because...er...that is, for a while, but not forgotten.”
Tyler’s eyebrows shot upward. “Why not start a chain? You could bake in a central factory and ship everything to the different sites. If you plan it right, there could be Sarah’s Sweet Treat outlets all over the Gold Country.”
“I’m not interested in factory baking, that’s why.” Sarah was annoyed, even though she hadn’t expected him to understand. “Maybe my dream isn’t as grand as being a famous architect, with clients who are desperate to have my name on their building, but I don’t want a business empire. I simply enjoy feeding people.”
Tyler’s face chilled. “Being able to call it a Prentiss building isn’t the only reason people want my designs. I’m good at what I do.”
Apparently she’d touched a nerve again.
“I’m sure you’re an excellent architect,” Sarah said, debating whether she should explain that she knew about the investigation in Illinois. No, she decided, taking another look at his arctic expression.
A gremlin inside of her wanted to goad him, but she didn’t think it was wise. It might be like catching a tiger by the tail—both hanging on and letting go would be equally dangerous.
“Then you’ll accept my professional assessment of your building,” Tyler said.
Sarah lifted her chin. The offer of free advice was tempting, but she didn’t want to be put under an obligation and couldn’t afford to hire him.
“I’m not helpless and I’m quite capable of taking care of it by myself,” she told Tyler. “I’m sure you have more important things to do with your time.”
“You don’t need to get huff—” Tyler stopped, apparently rethinking what he’d intended to say. “That is, I know you’re capable. But you aren’t an architect. I expect to be in Glimmer Creek until my mom and brother leave. Why don’t I take a look at the analysis from the building office when it comes, along with the blueprints for your building? I’d be happy to make recommendations.”
She knew quite well he’d started to say she was getting huffy and rolled her eyes. In her opinion, huffy was gender-specific. If she’d called him that, he would have felt his masculinity was being threatened. That was another point in Theo’s favor—he didn’t get in a tizzy about his manhood, though being a neutered cat, he might not feel he had that much to defend.
Sarah gave herself a shake. Her thoughts tended to drift when she was tired, and she still had to clear out the register and take care of a dozen other things before she could go home.
“That was sarcastic, not huffy,” she returned, and Tyler looked faintly embarrassed. “But I’m not making any decisions until I’m more rested and have done more evaluation of my own.”
“I understand. Maybe you can assist me in return.”
Sarah was instantly wary. “How?”
“I’ve contacted over a dozen general practitioners in Stockton to get an appointment for Nathan, but the earliest slot for a new patient isn’t for two or three weeks. Do you have any contacts who could help? Maybe someone in your family?”
“Go to the Glimmer Creek clinic. No appointment needed.”
“I noticed there was a clinic in town, but I’d prefer someone in private practice.”
Sarah gave him an exasperated look. “Give me a break. The GC clinic is brand-new and state-of-the-art. All of our medical professionals work out of it, but I’d recommend Dr. Romano for your brother. He was a reservist who served in the air force during the first Gulf War. Just call and ask when he’s there.”
Tyler nodded. “Okay. Do you mind if I wander around and take measurements, just in case you decide to accept my opinion on your renovations?” He pulled a tape measure from his pocket along with a small notebook.
“You brought a tape measure?”
“It’s a habit. If you don’t let me do some innocent checking, my mother’s feelings may be hurt. She really hopes I can come up with a solution for you.”
Invoking Rosemary’s feelings was dirty pool. “Fine. Do some measuring. Just stay out of everyone’s way. Would you like a cup of coffee before I empty the coffee makers?”
“Sure. Decaf if you have it, regular otherwise.”
Sarah poured him a large to-go cup of decaf and cleaned the coffee makers, then put the now day-old baked items into plastic bags.
“Don’t you have someone who can do that?” Tyler asked.
“Somebody comes later to clean, but we take care of the coffee machines immediately and bag the day-old items.”
“What about those?” He gestured to the loaves of bread she’d kept separate.
“They’ll be made into croutons. Croutons are popular in the shop, and we also use them for our restaurant and catering needs.”
Leaving Tyler to roam the building by himself, Sarah took the contents of the till back to the office and got it ready for the bank’s night drop box. The shift supervisor cosigned the slip, and Sarah sealed the deposit in a large envelope.
“Hey, guys, I’ll be right back,” she told the kitchen crew. They waved, used to her going to the bank each evening.
The swing shift was the smallest, except when they were catering a dinner. Luckily in Glimmer Creek, there were plenty of people willing to work on an as-needed basis.
Tyler was sitting at a table by the front window, pouring over figures in his notebook, presumably the measurements. She just couldn’t see what he hoped to do with them without knowing the proposed regulations.
“Um, are you done yet?” Sarah asked, wanting to push him out the door.
“I have a bit more to do. Your candy chef said she takes a break at eight, so I’m waiting till then to finish my measurements in the smaller kitchen.”
* * *
TYLER FOUGHT BACK a smile at the harried look on Sarah’s face. She hadn’t agreed to accept his advice, but the more she resisted, the more he wanted her to take it. The situation was unusual for him, to say the least. He was no longer accustomed to pursuing clients and certainly not to being turned down for a free consultation.
“Fine. I’m going to the bank with the night deposit.”
Sarah unlocked the door and went outside. Tyler found himself watching as she walked up the street, her hips swaying gently. The late sun glinted like platinum fire on her hair, and he shifted uneasily, more physically aware of her than he wanted to be.
As she turned to cross, a motorcycle came roaring up the street and veered toward her. Tyler jumped to his feet as the rider reached for the thick envelope she carried. The biker missed, but pushed Sarah hard enough that she went down.
Tyler ran outside as he dialed 911 on his cell. The emergency operator answered on the first ring.
“A motorcyclist just tried to rob Sarah Fullerton, half a block southeast from her business,” he said concisely. “Across from the bank. They hit her and drove off.”
“Yes, sir. Please stay on the phone while I dispatch officers to the scene.”
Sarah was sitting up when he got there, dazed, but still clutching the envelope.
“I’ve called the police,” Tyler explained, trying to determine if she was badly hurt. “Do you need an ambulance?”
“No, and I don’t need the police, either. It was just a motorcyclist who doesn’t know how to steer.”
“Somebody tried to rob you, Sarah,” he announced bluntly, anger burning through him. “I was watching, and there’s no question the biker was reaching for the envelope. He also struck you and left. That’s hit-and-run.”
A hum of agreement came from the onlookers who’d gathered.
Sarah tried to get up, and he insisted she stay put. “You need to be checked first.” Tyler heard a voice from his phone and put it to his ear. “Sorry, what was that?”
“I’ve dispatched paramedics, sir,” the dispatcher said. “May I have your name, phone number and address?”
Tyler was providing them as a police car and paramedic unit came screaming to a halt nearby.
Two uniformed officers and a paramedic team came over, and it was clear from the way they greeted Sarah that she was either family or a good friend. One officer started directing traffic while the second took a report, speaking to the different witnesses.
A third vehicle arrived, and a tall, solemn-looking man got out, striding over to Sarah. She was now sitting at the end of the paramedic vehicle while they treated an abrasion on her elbow. Though he wore plain clothes, he had a badge attached to his belt.
“Hey, coz, what happened?” he asked.
“A motorcyclist brushed against me and I got knocked over. I wouldn’t have even fallen if I hadn’t been off balance. Everyone is making too big of a deal about this, Zach.” Yet her voice had risen, suggesting she was more agitated than she wanted to let on.
“Somebody tried to snatch the bank deposit she was carrying,” Tyler interjected. “I saw it clearly.”
Sarah remained pale as he described the rider, which wouldn’t help with identification. Despite the warm day, the biker had been wearing a bulky jacket, gloves and helmet. Tyler couldn’t even confirm the person’s sex. On top of that, nobody had spotted any distinguishing insignia on the rider’s clothes or motorcycle.
“We have a bulletin out to watch for bikes of that description, but it’s probably long gone now,” Zach said.
The paramedics advised Sarah to see a doctor but didn’t think she needed to be transported to the local medical clinic.
“Hey, Millie,” she called, waving to a woman hovering at the edge of the crowd. Tyler recognized her as one of the cooks he’d seen working in the kitchen. “I’m all right and I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
Though Millie nodded and walked back toward Sarah’s Sweet Treats, it was clear that she’d rather stay. Frankly, Tyler thought they had too many onlookers. The officers seemed to agree because they were urging the crowd to disperse.
Sarah was keeping a death grip on the envelope and looked at Tyler blankly when he offered to put it in the bank’s night drop box, just a few feet from the paramedic’s vehicle.
“Oh. Yeah.” She glanced down, then held it out to him.
“Just a moment,” ordered Zach. “Sarah, how much cash is in there?”
“Twelve hundred seventy-two dollars and fifty-three cents. Also some local checks.”
“Who knew you were bringing the deposit down here?”
“Practically everyone knows I take care of it around the same time each evening.”
Zach looked exasperated. “Routines make you an easy target, Sarah. Until we get this sorted out, call the station and I’ll send an officer to escort you or come myself.”
“I really don’t think the rider was trying to steal it,” she protested.
“That’s your Pollyanna nature speaking. Witnesses say otherwise, and it’s better to be safe than sorry.”
Tyler took the envelope and dropped it in the deposit slot. If he’d thought a small town like Glimmer Creek couldn’t provide any excitement, he’d obviously been wrong. But this was one form of excitement he could do without.
