Читать книгу Home To Wickham Falls - Rochelle Alers, Rochelle Alers - Страница 12

Chapter Four

Sawyer retrieved a visitor’s pass from the front desk at the county hospital and took the elevator to the second floor. The numbers on the wall indicated his father’s room was down the hallway on his right. He walked in and stopped when he saw a nurse at his father’s bedside.

She glanced up and flashed a polite smile. “Could you please step outside, sir? I’ll be finished in a few minutes.”

He retreated, leaning against a wall in the immaculate wing dedicated to cardiac patients. Mara had returned to the house in good spirits because Henry had been moved out of ICU and into a semiprivate room. He’d barely had time to ask her about Henry’s condition because Dylan and Colin regaled her excitedly with what they had eaten at Ruthie’s.

The nurse stuck her head out the door. “Sir, you can come in now. I had to change his IV and check his vitals.”

“How is he? I’m his son,” Sawyer explained when she gave him a questioning look.

“He’s progressing well. You can get the name of his doctor from the nurse’s station and he’ll tell you everything.”

“Thank you.”

Sawyer entered the sun-filled room, his gaze fixed on the figure in the bed closest to the window. Sawyer didn’t know what to expect when he glanced down at his father but it wasn’t the man he hardly recognized. Henry Middleton was only sixty-seven yet appeared at least ten years older. As a former merchant seaman the elements had not been kind to his complexion. Streaks of silver were threaded between fading strawberry blonde curls.

Reaching for a chair, Sawyer pulled it closer to the bed and stared at Henry, who appeared to be sleeping. His chest rose and fell in an even rhythm. Sawyer ran his forefinger down the limp right hand resting on the snowy-white sheet, finding the skin cool to the touch. Then, without warning, Henry opened his eyes.

“You came.” His voice was barely a whisper.

“Yes, Dad, I came.”

Tears filled his red-rimmed blue eyes. “I prayed you’d come.”

Sawyer felt a lump forming in his throat as he watched his father cry. Rachel said Henry had changed, but he never could have imagined the dictatorial man shedding even a single tear. He patted Henry’s hand. “And your prayers are answered.” Rising slightly, Sawyer reached for the box of tissues on the bedside table. He gently blotted Henry’s cheeks. How was he to comfort a man who’d never shown him a modicum of gentleness, a man who preferred ridicule to compliments?

“How...long...long are you sta...ying?” Henry’s eyelids fluttered.

“I’ll be here until the end of summer.” Sawyer wasn’t certain if his father heard him, because he suspected the nurse had given him a sedative.

A hint of a smile parted the older man’s lips. “I feel like an elephant’s sitting on my chest.” His smile faded as he closed his eyes again. “I guess I’m going to feel some pain for a while. Do you know they put stents in my arteries?”

“Yes, Dad, and you’ll feel a lot better once you’re out of here.”

“When did you get here?”

“Yesterday.”

“Who called you?”

“Rachel.”

Henry chuckled softly. “I knew she would. It’s good they brought me to her hospital so she can make certain they don’t give me the wrong medication.”

Sawyer shook his head. This was the Henry he knew. He hoped his father’s brush with death had made him less negative. “They’re not going to give you the wrong medication. And if you were going to die, then it would’ve happened before they got you to the hospital.”

“I guess you’re right.”

“I know I’m right.”

Henry breathed out a lingering sigh. “I remember you telling me that I’m too mean to die.”

Sawyer nodded. “I seem to remember saying that more than once.”

“Do you realize you’re right? That I’m too mean to die? At least, not yet.” Henry sighed again. “I think I’m going to sleep now. Will you stay with me until I fall asleep?”

Leaning over, Sawyer pressed a kiss to his forehead. “Yes.” Seconds later soft snoring filled the room. He caught movement out of the corner of his eye, and saw Rachel in the doorway. Smiling, she motioned him closer. He stood and approached her.

“Did you get the chance to talk to Dad?” she whispered.

“Yes.”

“Did he growl at you?”

“He’s in no condition to growl at anyone. How long do you think he’s going to be here?”

“Probably another two days, barring complications. He almost coded in the ambulance. I spoke to his cardiologist earlier this morning and he says they’re going to get him out of bed tomorrow because they want him ambulatory.”

“Will he be able to walk stairs?”

“Not for at least a week. I’ll have Mom turn the family room into a temporary bedroom. The love seat converts into a bed.” Rachel glanced at her watch. “I’m on meal break, so I’m going to grab a bite then take a power nap before I go back on duty.”

“Make certain you get some sleep before you drive home. You don’t need to drive drowsy.”

“I have to get the boys up in the morning because they tend to—”

“Don’t worry about the boys, Rachel,” Sawyer said, cutting her off. “I’ll get them up and see that they get on the bus.”

“You don’t have to do that, Sawyer.”

“I don’t mind. You hang out here and get some rest before you get behind the wheel. Remember, you’re a nurse, not Superwoman.”

Rachel flashed a tender smile. “I’m so glad you’re here.”

Sawyer hugged her. “So am I.” He stood in the doorway and watched her retreating back before returning to sit at his father’s bedside. He had not lied to Rachel. It felt good to sleep under the roof in the house where he had been raised, and he knew it was just a matter of time before word got out that he was back in Wickham Falls.

Reaching for his cell phone, he sent a group text to his partners:

My father had angioplasty surgery. He came through okay. Plan to spend summer here.

Seconds later a response from Elena popped up on his screen.

Glad to know your dad is okay. We told the staff about the hiatus. It didn’t go over well although they’re being paid. They still want to come into the office.

Darius: I don’t have a problem with them coming in. What about you, Saw?

Sawyer: I’m with you, Darius. Maybe they’ll come up with something spectacular before we go public.

Elena: Word!

Sawyer laughed softly. It was on a rare occasion Elena used slang. Sawyer sent another message.

I’ll check in later for updates.

Darius: Speaking of updates I finally popped the question. Last night I asked Chloe to move in with me and she went off like a mad woman claiming her parents didn’t raise her to shack up with a man. This morning I took her to a jeweler and told her to pick out a ring. I must admit my woman has fabulous taste in jewelry.

Sawyer: Congrats! It’s about time, brother. When are you tying the knot?

Darius: Easter week, and I want you and Thom to be my groomsmen. Chloe wants a destination wedding, so I’m seriously thinking of chartering a ship leaving out of New York for the wedding party and holding the ceremony and reception in Key West.

Sawyer: I’m in.

Elena: You’re next, Sawyer.

Sawyer: Nah!! Right now I’m cool being a bachelor.

Elena: Yeah right. I’m willing to bet some pretty young country girl is going to catch your eye and you’ll stop all that talk about being a cool bachelor. In case you don’t realize it, you’re still a country boy.

Sawyer: What’s wrong with being a country boy?

Elena: Nothing. Don’t forget Thom comes from a little town in Tennessee and I wouldn’t trade him in if Brad Pitt walked through my door right this very minute.

Sawyer: This country boy is going to ring off now. You guys give your better halves my best.

He was still smiling when he slipped the phone into the pocket of his jeans. Little had Elena known that a pretty country girl had caught his eye but that’s where it began and ended.

He wanted Jessica Calhoun, not as a wife or even a lover, but as a friend. He didn’t want to get too involved with her and then, come summer’s end, leave her to return to New York.

* * *

The doorbell rang, followed by Bootsy’s strident barking, as Jessica descended the staircase. “I’m coming, baby boy.” Logan had called to let her know he was coming over so they could get a jump on the grant proposal.

She opened the front door and within seconds Jessica scooped him up and held him tightly as the dog continued growling. “Sorry about that,” she said in apology. “He’s usually more welcoming.”

Logan patted the small dog on the head. “Hey, Bootsy.”

“Come on in. I printed out two copies of last year’s grant application so we each will have a copy. We’ll work at the table in the eating nook where we will have more room.”

Logan sniffed the air. “Something smells good.”

“I’m cooking for the week. Do you want anything to eat or drink?”

“No, thank you.”

Jessica indicated where Logan should sit and then placed Bootsy in his crate in the mudroom. She returned to the kitchen and sat on the cushioned bench seat opposite Logan. “Have you set a wedding date?”

A mysterious smile played at the corners of his mouth. “Yes. Bastille Day.”

“You’re getting married July fourteenth?”

Logan affected a wide grin. “Oui, mademoiselle.”

She smiled. “Congratulations! I’d love to be a fly on the wall and see everyone’s expression at the school when you show up wearing a wedding band.”

“That’s not nice, Miss Calhoun,” he chided.

“And you’re not nice, Mister Mysterious,” Jessica countered teasingly, “playing the footloose and fancy-free bachelor when you have a girlfriend waiting for you in France.”

“Not quite, Jessica. I’ve never dated any of the women who work for the school district, and that’s why there’s been gossip about my love life. The same can be said about you.”

“You’re right,” she confirmed. Although she’d dated one man for several months after moving to West Virginia, Jessica had a hard-and-fast rule not to date her coworkers. “Well, let’s get into this monster and see what we can salvage or if we have to come up with new strategies to present to the committee.”

They spent more than three hours going over pages of the proposal, deleting data they’d submitted the year before, while jotting down notes along the margins for possible consideration. “I think we’re aiming too low,” Jessica said, as she studied the section with the award bid request.

“You’re kidding, aren’t you?”

“No, I’m not. Think about it, Logan. Other school districts are being awarded millions, while we’re only asking for less than half a mil. That may indicate our need isn’t as great as other districts. Our demand is as great as Newark, New Jersey’s, where they got a hundred million in grants from Facebook cofounder Mark Zuckerberg.”

“You can’t compare a city like Newark, which probably has a total population of at least a quarter of a million, to a town like Wickham Falls, where we struggle to maintain a population over four thousand, with half of them children.”

“I still think we’ve been going at it from the wrong direction,” Jessica argued softly. “It’s not so much about asking for money as it is showing a specific need. If you don’t mind, I’d like to ask a friend’s brother who is into computers if he can offer some input. He’s a graduate of Wickham Falls’ schools, and as an alumnus his feedback may prove invaluable.”

Logan leaned back, his gaze never wavering. “If he agrees then I don’t see why we can’t bring him on as an unpaid consultant.”

Jessica gathered the pages with their notes, walked Logan to the door and then released Bootsy from the mudroom. She picked him up, cradling him to her chest. “Baby, you’re going to have to learn not to show your teeth at Mama’s company or they’ll think you have no home training.”

Bootsy wiggled for her to put him down and ran into the mudroom, where his lead and harness hung from a hook on the door. Jessica doubted he needed to go out but decided to indulge him. Reaching for the can of pepper spray, she tucked it into the pocket of her jeans and put on her pet’s outside gear. At the last possible minute she picked up her cell phone and left the house.

* * *

The following weekend Jessica got up Saturday morning and set out patio furniture before she returned to the kitchen to prepare for food for the Memorial Day weekend get-together. While she had invited Sawyer to bring his nephews over for the backyard cookout, she had also extended the invitation to the families of her girls’-night-out colleagues, Abby, Beatrice, and Carly—who referred to themselves as the ABCs. She had also sent Rachel a text asking her to come if she wasn’t scheduled to work.

The doorbell echoed throughout the house and seconds later Bootsy bounded into the kitchen barking loudly for her to follow him. “I’m coming, baby boy.” She knew Bootsy would continue to bark until she went to see who or what had caught his attention.

Jessica opened the front door and her pulse skipped a beat before settling back to a normal rhythm. Sawyer stood on the porch with Rachel and his nephews. His deeply tanned face under the New York Yankees baseball cap indicated he had spent time in the sun since she last saw him. The added color illuminated eyes that reminded her of polished sapphires. Jessica still couldn’t figure out what was it about her best friend’s brother that made her feel tingly all over. She opened the door wider.

“Welcome!” Her voice had gone up an octave and Rachel, carrying the picnic hamper, looked at her as if she had suddenly taken leave of her senses.

“Hello, Miss Calhoun,” the boys said in unison.

“Can we play with Bootsy?” Dylan asked.

“Yes. But if he starts panting too hard, then please bring him inside.” As if on cue, the puppy raced after the two boys as they headed for the rear of the house. “You didn’t have to bring anything,” she told Sawyer, who cradled a plastic crate filled with beer and soft drinks to his chest.

“Down here we’re taught never to come to someone’s home empty-handed.”

Rachel set the hamper on the ladder-back chair in the entryway and then patted her brother’s back. “Nice talk for someone wearing a Yankees cap.”

“Come with me, Sawyer, and I’ll show you where you can put your contraband.”

He laughed loudly. “Damn! You ladies are cold.”

“Sawyer! You’re going to have to watch your language,” Rachel admonished. “You keep swearing, and Dylan and Colin are going to end up with sewer mouths.”

“Sorry about that, sis.” He followed Jessica as she led the way around the house to an expansive patio area. “Something smells real good.”

Jessica glanced at him over her shoulder. “I hope you brought your appetite because I’m smoking brisket, ribs and chicken. I have hot dogs, burgers and links for the kids.” She pointed to a large tin tub filled with ice, bottles of beer and juice and cans of soda. “I think there’s still some room in there for your...contribution.”

Sawyer gave her a level look. “I thought it was contraband?”

She scrunched up her nose. “Did I say contraband and not contribution?”

“You can’t blame it on a slip of the tongue, because you know damn well...I mean you know right well what you meant.”

“Rachel’s right. You’re going to have to clean up your language because there’re going to be a few kids here this afternoon.”

“How many?”

“About six, and that includes your nephews.”

Sawyer put bottles of beer and soda into the tub of icy water. “I suppose I spend too much time around adults.”

“None of your friends in New York have children?”

“No.” He stood straight, giving Jessica a long, penetrating stare, and realized she was a chameleon. The first time he’d seen her she was dressed to the nines, and then her clothes had been casual-chic at the restaurant, and now she appeared no older than a college coed with a white tank top, matching cropped pants and blue-and-white-striped espadrilles. She had covered her hair with a white bandana. And what Sawyer could not decide was which Jessica he liked best.

Sawyer’s gaze swept over the patio that had an outdoor kitchen. “I’ve passed this house a few times but I never knew there was this much land behind it.” He deliberately changed the topic from marriage and babies because he was tired of Rachel accusing him of being selfish because he wasn’t willing to settle down. He had time to find that special woman with whom to share his life.

“It’s a little more than an acre,” Jessica said.

“What I do remember is the owners had their own garden and sold most of what they grew.”

“The greenhouses are still here. They’re hidden behind the trees, and they’re the reason I bought this place.”

His eyebrows lifted. “You’re kidding.”

“Nope. I grow all of my fruits, vegetables and flowers.”

“The flowers you sent my father were from your garden?”

“Yes. Unfortunately I didn’t get to see him when I went to the hospital because he was with his therapist at the time, so I just left them along with a card.”

Folding his arms over his chest, Sawyer angled his head. Jessica was more an enigma than he had originally thought. Somehow he could not imagine a twenty-first-century thirty-something career woman farming. “I still can’t believe you grow your own flowers and produce.”

“The next time you come over I’ll give you a tour.”

“Will there be a next time?” he asked. He schooled his expression not to reveal the anticipation that Jessica would invite him to her home again.

“I’m certain there’ll be.”

Sawyer successfully hid a smile behind an expression of indifference. Jessica’s offer for him to come back to her home was definitely a pleasant surprise and totally unexpected.

“Is there anything else I can do to help out before the others get here?”

“No. You’re a guest, Sawyer.”

“It’s a backyard cookout, not a formal dinner, and if you’ve been up for hours putting all of this together then it means you’ll probably be too tired to enjoy your guests. Now, please tell me how I can help you.”

A slow smile softened her lips, drawing his gaze to linger there. “You’re quite the silver-tongued devil when it comes to piling on the guilt.”

Sawyer winked at her. “It’s more like being persuasive.”

Jessica rested a hand on his forearm. “Okay, Mister Persuasive. You can fire up the grill and cook burgers and hot dogs for the kids. They’ll probably want to eat before the adults.”

Rachel joined them on the patio. “Is there something I can do before the others get here?”

“You can help me set the table,” Jessica told her. “All of the dishes and serving pieces are stacked on the kitchen countertop.”

Sawyer cocked his head to one side. “I think I hear someone calling you, Jessica.”

“You must have ears like a bat,” Jessica teased as she turned and walked around the house.

Rachel stared at Sawyer’s impassive expression. “You’ve really got it bad, brother love.”

He frowned at Rachel. “What are you talking about?”

“Jessica. You really like her, don’t you?”

He adjusted his cap and pulled it lower on his forehead. “What’s there not to like? She’s pretty, smart, and she seems to have charmed the pants off our family.”

“That’s not what I’m talking about, Sawyer. You like Jessica the way a man likes a woman.”

“Do you want me to lie?”

“No. I’m glad you like her because I think she’s good for you.”

Sawyer walked to the gas grill and pushed buttons to ignite the propane, his sister shadowing his steps. “Good how?”

“She has all the qualities you should look for in a woman who could become your potential wife.”

Sawyer gave Rachel an incredulous stare. “When did you become a matchmaker? Because I’ve never had a problem letting a woman know I was interested in her. That’s enough about me and Jessica. I’ve been assigned the task of manning the grill, so I need to get busy.”