Monster In The Closet (The Baltimore Series Book 5) by Karen Rose
Clay nodded, content. ‘Sometimes it does.’
Baltimore, Maryland,
Monday 24 August, 8.40 P.M.
It had been a lovely wedding, Taylor thought as she wheeled herself toward the hospital lobby’s elevator. She’d been capable of wheeling herself yesterday, too, but Ford had needed to keep his hands busy.
Busy hands. Oh my. She grinned a little secret grin. Because after they’d gotten back to Maggie’s house and had her dad settled in a guest room, Ford had pushed her chair out to the barn, where Ford’s hands had been very busy indeed. Nothing major. Just some serious cuddling.
Which Taylor couldn’t wait to do again. And they would once the reception was over and Ford had returned to Maggie’s. She knew he didn’t actually live there full time and would at some point go back to his real home, wherever that was. But hopefully he’d stay long enough for them to figure out what this thing between them really was and what it might become. Hopefully the partygoers at the reception wouldn’t dance all night, because Ford would be too tired to do any cuddling and that would be a real shame.
Taylor had waited for the cutting of the cake so she could bring a slice to Clay. She’d said her goodbyes to the bride and groom and then Ford had pushed her chair to the curb and hailed her a cab. He’d understood that she wanted to get back to sit with her father. It hurt her to think of Clay all alone while the rest of them partied and celebrated. Ford had wanted to come with her, just to make sure she arrived safely, but she’d had to draw the line right there. She needed to do some things for herself, because he wouldn’t always be there. He had a life too.
‘Taylor, wait.’ Stevie was walking across the hospital lobby, leaning heavily on her cane. ‘Hold the elevator, please.’
‘Are you okay?’ Taylor asked when Stevie slumped against the elevator wall.
‘I’ll be fine with some sleep and maybe an ice pack.’ Stevie pressed her fist into her lower back with a grimace. ‘I’ve just been on my feet too much today and I danced too many dances with Cordelia at the wedding reception. My old injury still gives me fits when I overdo it.’
‘And I’m sure the pregnancy doesn’t help that.’
‘No.’ Stevie’s lips curved. ‘But worth it.’
‘The wedding dancing or the pregnancy?’
Stevie grinned. ‘Both.’
‘It was a beautiful service.’ Elegant, but not over the top. Classy. ‘I liked the mix of traditional and modern music.’ JD’s wife and her friend had played all the standards for the prelude and processional, but Dillon and Holly had each picked a song to be sung by two of the volunteers from their community center during the service itself. The two singers had done a wonderful job, although one of them had teared up midway through his song. The bride and groom had stepped in, lending their voices until their friend got control of his. Of course that had had everyone in the church in tears. It had been incredibly sweet.
Stevie’s chuckle was affectionate. ‘I wasn’t surprised by “Love Story”, because every girl wants to be Taylor Swift, right? But I’ve never heard of “Standing Outside the Fire” being played at a wedding.’
‘Actually Ford told me that it was Dillon who picked Taylor Swift.’
Stevie’s mouth fell open. ‘You’re kidding!’
‘No. Ford said that it was partly to poke at Joseph for trying to scare Dillon away from Holly early on.’ Because the song had a Romeo and Juliet theme. ‘Apparently Joseph caught them . . . you know. On the living room couch. Ford says Joseph’s never quite recovered, and Dillon was terrified of him for months.’
Stevie made a face. ‘I can see how that might have got them off to a rocky start. But Joseph loves him now, so they obviously worked that out.’ Her forehead bunched up. ‘So the Garth Brooks song was Holly’s pick? Why?’
Taylor had known why the moment the man had begun to sing, and she’d been crying long before the singer had. ‘It’s because of the music video. It’s about a high-school kid with Down syndrome who wants to try out for the track team. Mom is supportive, but Dad is scared he’ll get hurt. When the kid runs the race, he falls and bloodies his face, but it’s Dad who runs out to the track and makes sure the boy crosses the finish line – all on his own.’
Stevie’s lips quivered and she sucked in a breath. ‘Damn. I’m glad I didn’t know that during the ceremony. I would have been a sobbing mess.’
‘I’m glad I was sitting in the back row because I was a sobbing mess. I always think of my sister when I hear that song. Julie really wants to have a life. More than what she’s able to have back home. It’s too small a town to have the same services that Holly and Dillon have.’ Taylor sighed. ‘Anyway, it was a beautiful ceremony and Holly was just . . . glowy. It was like she was so happy she couldn’t keep it all in.’
‘She was,’ Stevie said fondly. ‘And Dillon was so nervous.’
‘So was Clay when he gave that little speech over Skype at the reception.’
Stevie laughed a little. ‘He’s been obsessing about that speech since Holly asked him to do it, months ago. I’m glad Alec thought of Skype.’ She frowned again. ‘Or was it you? Yesterday is like cotton candy in my head.’
‘It was me, but that doesn’t matter.’ It did, actually. It meant that Stevie cared about giving her credit for ideas, which meant her father’s wife might be starting to warm up to the adult child who had popped up out of nowhere. ‘But Alec set it up.’
‘Alec’s a good kid,’ Stevie said. ‘He and Ford helped Holly and Dillon fix up their apartment. It was kind of shabby, but it was all Dillon could afford.’
‘Alec and Ford respected Dillon’s pride,’ Taylor said quietly.
‘Exactly. The apartment’s close enough to Holly’s sister’s house that her sister can take Holly into the bakery on days when the weather’s too snowy for Dillon to drive.’
‘They’ll be able to be independent and have privacy. That’s so nice.’ Privacy for a new couple was critical. Taylor knew that even though she had little experience with relationships. For now, anyway. If she and Ford ever got past second base, they’d need privacy too.
Stevie stopped to sit in a chair set against the wall, breaking into Taylor’s concentration.
‘Are you okay?’ Taylor asked for the second time in fifteen minutes.
‘Just tired. This hospital is too damn huge, and of course Clay’s room is at the opposite end. Go on ahead and I’ll catch up.’
Taylor didn’t say yes or no. She simply stayed where she was, silently waiting until Stevie was ready to get up. Clay would want her to make sure his wife was okay. In the meantime, she wanted to know if there was such a thing as privacy in her new world.
‘Stevie, where does Ford live?’
Stevie blinked at the topic change. ‘He used to have an apartment in the city, close to the university, but now that he’s graduated and working fulltime, I’m not sure where he’ll live. Maybe with Daphne until he gets a place of his own. Why?’
‘I just realized I didn’t know.’
Stevie’s eyes narrowed slightly. ‘You’re thinking of living with him?’
‘Oh no, not right now. I just met him. And I’ll be able to live at Maggie’s until my internship is over next month.’
‘And then?’ Stevie asked evenly.
‘You’re asking me if I’ll stay.’
‘Yes, I am.’
‘I’ll definitely stay until Clay’s back to full health, at least. He’ll try to go back to work too soon. I can help out there so that he doesn’t feel the stress.’
‘Are you asking for a job, Taylor?’ Stevie asked, not unkindly. ‘Working with our firm?’
It was Taylor’s turn to blink. ‘No. At least I don’t think so. I never even thought about it. All I meant was that I could do paperwork, answer the phone. I’ve done the books for the ranch since my mother
died, so I can do that for Clay. Just basic stuff. I don’t think I want to do what you guys do. I don’t want to shoot people.’
Stevie’s lips twitched. ‘Well, we don’t shoot people all that often. We try never to do so, in fact. If you don’t want to work for us, what do you want to do?’
Taylor opened her mouth to say she didn’t know, then realized that she did. ‘I don’t want to shoot people,’ she repeated. ‘I want to put them back together. I want to do what Maggie does. I’m going to ask her for a job after the internship. She’s got empty stalls and I can train any new horses she brings in. We could double the number of counseling slots and eliminate the waiting lists. Kids like Jazzie and Janie shouldn’t need to wait for help.’
Stevie pushed to her feet using the cane as leverage, smoothed the grimace of pain from her face and turned it into an encouraging smile. ‘I like that plan. I don’t think you’ll have to twist Maggie’s arm to make it so.’
‘I have to get licensed first, though, which requires I get my masters. That’ll take two years. I was signed up to go to grad school in California, but classes start in early September. I won’t be ready to leave then. So I’ll lose at least a semester. Hopefully Maggie can wait.’
‘You could go to school locally.’
‘I could.’ She’d considered it. ‘I still might, if there’s time.’
‘Which brings us back to the question of housing. Where will you live when your internship is over?’
Taylor hesitated. ‘Clay mentioned something about you guys having an extra room. Just until I can find something I can afford. I can help around the house. Work for my keep. I can take Cordelia riding and do Clay’s heavy lifting, since he won’t be able to for a long time and you won’t be able to in a few months. You really shouldn’t be lifting anything now.’
‘Okay.’
‘Okay to which thing?’ Taylor asked, wary of Stevie’s easy acceptance.
‘Okay, I won’t lift heavy things, and okay, you can have the spare room. You don’t have to work for your keep, Taylor. You’re family. We want you to stay with us, but we want it to be what you want too. And once you’re back in California, you’ll have a room to come back to when you want to visit.’
‘Thank you. I’ll be a good guest, I promise.’
‘I wouldn’t have thought anything different. Ah,’ Stevie sighed. ‘Finally.’
They’d made it to Clay’s room, possibly at a slower pace than Ford’s snail’s crawl yesterday. Poor Stevie. If she’s this bad now, what’s she going to be like when she’s carrying a whole baby? Taylor was seeing bed rest in the woman’s future, which meant Clay would have even more to do – and even more to worry about.
She couldn’t go back to California. Not yet. The extra time she could spend with Ford was only a very nice side benefit.
Except . . . Stevie and Clay had so many people who loved them, who would help them. Frederick has only me.
She wouldn’t be able to stay indefinitely. That much was crystal cl—
‘Shit,’ she hissed, wheeling herself into the room as quickly as she could, because the laptop she’d loaned Frederick was sliding off his lap. She retrieved it just in time, setting it on her own lap.
Both of her fathers were sound asleep, Clay in the hospital bed and Frederick slumped in a chair, his head back at an unnatural angle. You’re gonna regret falling asleep like that, she thought. She looked over her shoulder at Stevie, who was carefully making her way to the more comfortable of the two chairs situated at Clay’s bedside.
On the nightstand was Clay’s laptop and phone, and a shoebox that Taylor recognized from home. The very sight of it made her eyes burn, because she knew what it meant. Sitting on its lid, precisely arranged, were the boutonnière and the bow tie. Holly had gotten such a kick out of the fact that Clay had gone to the trouble of wearing them. Taylor imagined that Clay had gotten a far bigger kick from the contents of the shoebox.
Stevie was frowning at the box. ‘What’s in it?’ she asked softly.
‘Pictures,’ Taylor whispered. ‘He keeps all of our photos in shoeboxes. Each of us girls has one. That’s my box. I decorated it the year he adopted me and changed my name. Dad – I mean Frederick-Dad – brought with him.’ Her heart twisted, but it was a nice kind of twist. ‘He wanted Clay to see the years he’d missed. It was the best he could do.’ She turned to look at Frederick’s face, the face she’d loved for so long. ‘How can I leave him? How can I make this kind of a choice?’
‘You might not have to,’ Clay muttered grumpily before Stevie could say a word. ‘You two really have to learn sign language or something. Your whispers are loud enough to wake the damn dead.’
Taylor kept on whispering, hoping to at least not wake Frederick. ‘What do you mean, I might not have to?’
‘Look at your laptop. It’s okay.’
Warily Taylor lifted the laptop’s lid. And drew a fast, harsh breath. ‘He wrote emails to the neighboring landowners.’ She looked up at Clay, trembling so hard it was a wonder her teeth didn’t clatter. ‘He’s selling the ranch.’
Stevie’s eyes widened. ‘Just like that?’
‘He’d been thinking about it for a long time,’ Clay said quietly. ‘He said if he moves away from the ranch, he might as well move here as anywhere else. He can make some money selling the property, and get his youngest daughter the services she’s been needing.’ He rolled his head to meet Taylor’s eyes, his weary but so kind. ‘He loves you, Taylor. So much that he’s going to uproot himself to keep you from having to choose. I don’t know how your mother managed to snag him, but he’s a hell of a guy.’
Taylor’s heart was racing, and she found she’d pressed her hand to her breastbone in a feeble attempt to make it slow down. Frederick wasn’t going to make her choose. She looked at him, love flowing out of her heart so hard that it hurt her chest. Her hand shaking, she switched to the browser window he’d left open.
And then she smiled. ‘Doesn’t Grandpa live in a place called Wight’s Landing?’
Clay’s eyes twinkled. ‘He does, in a house right on the beach. Has a dock and everything.’
‘Looks like Dad found a house there too. He’s got it bookmarked. It’s right on the water. It’s got a dock as well. And a boat.’
‘He’s already called a realtor and made an appointment to see it. Dad’s taking him out there tomorrow, first thing.’
‘We had a weekend cottage on the beach when we lived in Oakland. He told me once that was the only thing he missed from his old life. He loved living on the water.’
Stevie’s lips trembled. ‘Now he might be able to again.’
Clay frowned at her. ‘Are you crying? Again?’
‘Hormones,’ Stevie snapped. ‘Shut up.’ But she said it lovingly, if that was possible. ‘Everyone was bawling at the wedding. I fit right in.’
Taylor was still blown away. Frederick Dawson had sacrificed for her, and now he was about to do so again. ‘But I’m gonna let him,’ she murmured.
‘Let him do what?’ Clay asked.
‘Let him sell the ranch and move here, even though it’s another sacrifice. Does that make me selfish?’
Clay’s smile was gentle. ‘No, honey. But for what it’s worth, I don’t think you could stop him. He’s been thinking about this for some time.’
Ford. I need to tell Ford. She found her phone and texted him. Call me when you can. Good news.
His answer came back immediately. Turn around.
She turned and found him in the doorway, breathing a little hard, still wearing his tux, although he’d unfastened the tie so that it hung around his collar. He looked . . . rakish. Good enough to eat. ‘You came! I thought you’d dance all night.’
‘Dillon and Holly threw me out. They said I was too gloomy after you left and I was bringing their party do
wn.’ He glanced at the still-snoring Frederick. ‘I have a car, so I can drive us all back. What’s your news?’
She opened her mouth to tell him, but Clay held up a hand. ‘Are you going to get all, you know . . .’ He made a face. ‘Kissy?’
Taylor nodded. ‘Probably.’
He waved his hand toward the door in a shooing motion. ‘Then take it outside, kid.’
‘Privacy. Right.’ She deftly turned the chair around and glided past Ford so quickly that he had to turn on his heel to follow her and nearly stumbled.
‘You’re really good at wheeling that thing yourself,’ he accused as he followed her.
‘Yep. I spent four months in a chair after a horse rolled over me and broke my pelvis. I have biceps of freaking steel.’
‘Your horse . . . You broke your pelvis?’
‘Yeah. It’s fine now. All screwed back together. I set off the metal detector in LAX, and if I have kids, they may need to be delivered by C-section. Otherwise, everything is in perfect working order.’ She lifted her brows as she said this. ‘Got it?’
He actually blushed. ‘Got it.’
‘Good.’
Baltimore, Maryland,
Monday 24 August, 9.00 P.M.
They made it to the waiting room in half the time it had taken the day before, and Ford lowered himself into a chair very carefully, wincing at the sudden tightness of the tux pants. He did not want to have to explain a rip or, God forbid, a stain when he returned the damn monkey suit. That would be beyond embarrassing.
Taylor frowned. ‘Did you hurt yourself at the reception? Dammit, I was afraid you’d reinjure your leg. Do we need to go down to the ER?’
‘No, that’s not the problem.’ The thigh that had been shot had been throbbing all night, but didn’t hold a candle to the throbbing in his groin. ‘If you must know, thinking about all your perfectly working parts has me hard as a rock.’ He stretched his leg out and adjusted himself.
She grinned, pleased with herself. ‘Poor baby.’
‘Yeah,’ he groused, but it was all for show. ‘You go ahead and laugh. I’ll make you pay.’
Baltimore, Maryland,
Monday 24 August, 8.40 P.M.
It had been a lovely wedding, Taylor thought as she wheeled herself toward the hospital lobby’s elevator. She’d been capable of wheeling herself yesterday, too, but Ford had needed to keep his hands busy.
Busy hands. Oh my. She grinned a little secret grin. Because after they’d gotten back to Maggie’s house and had her dad settled in a guest room, Ford had pushed her chair out to the barn, where Ford’s hands had been very busy indeed. Nothing major. Just some serious cuddling.
Which Taylor couldn’t wait to do again. And they would once the reception was over and Ford had returned to Maggie’s. She knew he didn’t actually live there full time and would at some point go back to his real home, wherever that was. But hopefully he’d stay long enough for them to figure out what this thing between them really was and what it might become. Hopefully the partygoers at the reception wouldn’t dance all night, because Ford would be too tired to do any cuddling and that would be a real shame.
Taylor had waited for the cutting of the cake so she could bring a slice to Clay. She’d said her goodbyes to the bride and groom and then Ford had pushed her chair to the curb and hailed her a cab. He’d understood that she wanted to get back to sit with her father. It hurt her to think of Clay all alone while the rest of them partied and celebrated. Ford had wanted to come with her, just to make sure she arrived safely, but she’d had to draw the line right there. She needed to do some things for herself, because he wouldn’t always be there. He had a life too.
‘Taylor, wait.’ Stevie was walking across the hospital lobby, leaning heavily on her cane. ‘Hold the elevator, please.’
‘Are you okay?’ Taylor asked when Stevie slumped against the elevator wall.
‘I’ll be fine with some sleep and maybe an ice pack.’ Stevie pressed her fist into her lower back with a grimace. ‘I’ve just been on my feet too much today and I danced too many dances with Cordelia at the wedding reception. My old injury still gives me fits when I overdo it.’
‘And I’m sure the pregnancy doesn’t help that.’
‘No.’ Stevie’s lips curved. ‘But worth it.’
‘The wedding dancing or the pregnancy?’
Stevie grinned. ‘Both.’
‘It was a beautiful service.’ Elegant, but not over the top. Classy. ‘I liked the mix of traditional and modern music.’ JD’s wife and her friend had played all the standards for the prelude and processional, but Dillon and Holly had each picked a song to be sung by two of the volunteers from their community center during the service itself. The two singers had done a wonderful job, although one of them had teared up midway through his song. The bride and groom had stepped in, lending their voices until their friend got control of his. Of course that had had everyone in the church in tears. It had been incredibly sweet.
Stevie’s chuckle was affectionate. ‘I wasn’t surprised by “Love Story”, because every girl wants to be Taylor Swift, right? But I’ve never heard of “Standing Outside the Fire” being played at a wedding.’
‘Actually Ford told me that it was Dillon who picked Taylor Swift.’
Stevie’s mouth fell open. ‘You’re kidding!’
‘No. Ford said that it was partly to poke at Joseph for trying to scare Dillon away from Holly early on.’ Because the song had a Romeo and Juliet theme. ‘Apparently Joseph caught them . . . you know. On the living room couch. Ford says Joseph’s never quite recovered, and Dillon was terrified of him for months.’
Stevie made a face. ‘I can see how that might have got them off to a rocky start. But Joseph loves him now, so they obviously worked that out.’ Her forehead bunched up. ‘So the Garth Brooks song was Holly’s pick? Why?’
Taylor had known why the moment the man had begun to sing, and she’d been crying long before the singer had. ‘It’s because of the music video. It’s about a high-school kid with Down syndrome who wants to try out for the track team. Mom is supportive, but Dad is scared he’ll get hurt. When the kid runs the race, he falls and bloodies his face, but it’s Dad who runs out to the track and makes sure the boy crosses the finish line – all on his own.’
Stevie’s lips quivered and she sucked in a breath. ‘Damn. I’m glad I didn’t know that during the ceremony. I would have been a sobbing mess.’
‘I’m glad I was sitting in the back row because I was a sobbing mess. I always think of my sister when I hear that song. Julie really wants to have a life. More than what she’s able to have back home. It’s too small a town to have the same services that Holly and Dillon have.’ Taylor sighed. ‘Anyway, it was a beautiful ceremony and Holly was just . . . glowy. It was like she was so happy she couldn’t keep it all in.’
‘She was,’ Stevie said fondly. ‘And Dillon was so nervous.’
‘So was Clay when he gave that little speech over Skype at the reception.’
Stevie laughed a little. ‘He’s been obsessing about that speech since Holly asked him to do it, months ago. I’m glad Alec thought of Skype.’ She frowned again. ‘Or was it you? Yesterday is like cotton candy in my head.’
‘It was me, but that doesn’t matter.’ It did, actually. It meant that Stevie cared about giving her credit for ideas, which meant her father’s wife might be starting to warm up to the adult child who had popped up out of nowhere. ‘But Alec set it up.’
‘Alec’s a good kid,’ Stevie said. ‘He and Ford helped Holly and Dillon fix up their apartment. It was kind of shabby, but it was all Dillon could afford.’
‘Alec and Ford respected Dillon’s pride,’ Taylor said quietly.
‘Exactly. The apartment’s close enough to Holly’s sister’s house that her sister can take Holly into the bakery on days when the weather’s too snowy for Dillon to drive.’
‘They’ll be able to be independent and have privacy. That’s so nice.’ Privacy for a new couple was critical. Taylor knew that even though she had little experience with relationships. For now, anyway. If she and Ford ever got past second base, they’d need privacy too.
Stevie stopped to sit in a chair set against the wall, breaking into Taylor’s concentration.
‘Are you okay?’ Taylor asked for the second time in fifteen minutes.
‘Just tired. This hospital is too damn huge, and of course Clay’s room is at the opposite end. Go on ahead and I’ll catch up.’
Taylor didn’t say yes or no. She simply stayed where she was, silently waiting until Stevie was ready to get up. Clay would want her to make sure his wife was okay. In the meantime, she wanted to know if there was such a thing as privacy in her new world.
‘Stevie, where does Ford live?’
Stevie blinked at the topic change. ‘He used to have an apartment in the city, close to the university, but now that he’s graduated and working fulltime, I’m not sure where he’ll live. Maybe with Daphne until he gets a place of his own. Why?’
‘I just realized I didn’t know.’
Stevie’s eyes narrowed slightly. ‘You’re thinking of living with him?’
‘Oh no, not right now. I just met him. And I’ll be able to live at Maggie’s until my internship is over next month.’
‘And then?’ Stevie asked evenly.
‘You’re asking me if I’ll stay.’
‘Yes, I am.’
‘I’ll definitely stay until Clay’s back to full health, at least. He’ll try to go back to work too soon. I can help out there so that he doesn’t feel the stress.’
‘Are you asking for a job, Taylor?’ Stevie asked, not unkindly. ‘Working with our firm?’
It was Taylor’s turn to blink. ‘No. At least I don’t think so. I never even thought about it. All I meant was that I could do paperwork, answer the phone. I’ve done the books for the ranch since my mother
Stevie’s lips twitched. ‘Well, we don’t shoot people all that often. We try never to do so, in fact. If you don’t want to work for us, what do you want to do?’
Taylor opened her mouth to say she didn’t know, then realized that she did. ‘I don’t want to shoot people,’ she repeated. ‘I want to put them back together. I want to do what Maggie does. I’m going to ask her for a job after the internship. She’s got empty stalls and I can train any new horses she brings in. We could double the number of counseling slots and eliminate the waiting lists. Kids like Jazzie and Janie shouldn’t need to wait for help.’
Stevie pushed to her feet using the cane as leverage, smoothed the grimace of pain from her face and turned it into an encouraging smile. ‘I like that plan. I don’t think you’ll have to twist Maggie’s arm to make it so.’
‘I have to get licensed first, though, which requires I get my masters. That’ll take two years. I was signed up to go to grad school in California, but classes start in early September. I won’t be ready to leave then. So I’ll lose at least a semester. Hopefully Maggie can wait.’
‘You could go to school locally.’
‘I could.’ She’d considered it. ‘I still might, if there’s time.’
‘Which brings us back to the question of housing. Where will you live when your internship is over?’
Taylor hesitated. ‘Clay mentioned something about you guys having an extra room. Just until I can find something I can afford. I can help around the house. Work for my keep. I can take Cordelia riding and do Clay’s heavy lifting, since he won’t be able to for a long time and you won’t be able to in a few months. You really shouldn’t be lifting anything now.’
‘Okay.’
‘Okay to which thing?’ Taylor asked, wary of Stevie’s easy acceptance.
‘Okay, I won’t lift heavy things, and okay, you can have the spare room. You don’t have to work for your keep, Taylor. You’re family. We want you to stay with us, but we want it to be what you want too. And once you’re back in California, you’ll have a room to come back to when you want to visit.’
‘Thank you. I’ll be a good guest, I promise.’
‘I wouldn’t have thought anything different. Ah,’ Stevie sighed. ‘Finally.’
They’d made it to Clay’s room, possibly at a slower pace than Ford’s snail’s crawl yesterday. Poor Stevie. If she’s this bad now, what’s she going to be like when she’s carrying a whole baby? Taylor was seeing bed rest in the woman’s future, which meant Clay would have even more to do – and even more to worry about.
She couldn’t go back to California. Not yet. The extra time she could spend with Ford was only a very nice side benefit.
Except . . . Stevie and Clay had so many people who loved them, who would help them. Frederick has only me.
She wouldn’t be able to stay indefinitely. That much was crystal cl—
‘Shit,’ she hissed, wheeling herself into the room as quickly as she could, because the laptop she’d loaned Frederick was sliding off his lap. She retrieved it just in time, setting it on her own lap.
Both of her fathers were sound asleep, Clay in the hospital bed and Frederick slumped in a chair, his head back at an unnatural angle. You’re gonna regret falling asleep like that, she thought. She looked over her shoulder at Stevie, who was carefully making her way to the more comfortable of the two chairs situated at Clay’s bedside.
On the nightstand was Clay’s laptop and phone, and a shoebox that Taylor recognized from home. The very sight of it made her eyes burn, because she knew what it meant. Sitting on its lid, precisely arranged, were the boutonnière and the bow tie. Holly had gotten such a kick out of the fact that Clay had gone to the trouble of wearing them. Taylor imagined that Clay had gotten a far bigger kick from the contents of the shoebox.
Stevie was frowning at the box. ‘What’s in it?’ she asked softly.
‘Pictures,’ Taylor whispered. ‘He keeps all of our photos in shoeboxes. Each of us girls has one. That’s my box. I decorated it the year he adopted me and changed my name. Dad – I mean Frederick-Dad – brought with him.’ Her heart twisted, but it was a nice kind of twist. ‘He wanted Clay to see the years he’d missed. It was the best he could do.’ She turned to look at Frederick’s face, the face she’d loved for so long. ‘How can I leave him? How can I make this kind of a choice?’
‘You might not have to,’ Clay muttered grumpily before Stevie could say a word. ‘You two really have to learn sign language or something. Your whispers are loud enough to wake the damn dead.’
Taylor kept on whispering, hoping to at least not wake Frederick. ‘What do you mean, I might not have to?’
‘Look at your laptop. It’s okay.’
Warily Taylor lifted the laptop’s lid. And drew a fast, harsh breath. ‘He wrote emails to the neighboring landowners.’ She looked up at Clay, trembling so hard it was a wonder her teeth didn’t clatter. ‘He’s selling the ranch.’
Stevie’s eyes widened. ‘Just like that?’
‘He’d been thinking about it for a long time,’ Clay said quietly. ‘He said if he moves away from the ranch, he might as well move here as anywhere else. He can make some money selling the property, and get his youngest daughter the services she’s been needing.’ He rolled his head to meet Taylor’s eyes, his weary but so kind. ‘He loves you, Taylor. So much that he’s going to uproot himself to keep you from having to choose. I don’t know how your mother managed to snag him, but he’s a hell of a guy.’
Taylor’s heart was racing, and she found she’d pressed her hand to her breastbone in a feeble attempt to make it slow down. Frederick wasn’t going to make her choose. She looked at him, love flowing out of her heart so hard that it hurt her chest. Her hand shaking, she switched to the browser window he’d left open.
And then she smiled. ‘Doesn’t Grandpa live in a place called Wight’s Landing?’
Clay’s eyes twinkled. ‘He does, in a house right on the beach. Has a dock and everything.’
‘Looks like Dad found a house there too. He’s got it bookmarked. It’s right on the water. It’s got a dock as well. And a boat.’
‘He’s already called a realtor and made an appointment to see it. Dad’s taking him out there tomorrow, first thing.’
‘We had a weekend cottage on the beach when we lived in Oakland. He told me once that was the only thing he missed from his old life. He loved living on the water.’
Stevie’s lips trembled. ‘Now he might be able to again.’
Clay frowned at her. ‘Are you crying? Again?’
‘Hormones,’ Stevie snapped. ‘Shut up.’ But she said it lovingly, if that was possible. ‘Everyone was bawling at the wedding. I fit right in.’
Taylor was still blown away. Frederick Dawson had sacrificed for her, and now he was about to do so again. ‘But I’m gonna let him,’ she murmured.
‘Let him do what?’ Clay asked.
‘Let him sell the ranch and move here, even though it’s another sacrifice. Does that make me selfish?’
Clay’s smile was gentle. ‘No, honey. But for what it’s worth, I don’t think you could stop him. He’s been thinking about this for some time.’
Ford. I need to tell Ford. She found her phone and texted him. Call me when you can. Good news.
His answer came back immediately. Turn around.
She turned and found him in the doorway, breathing a little hard, still wearing his tux, although he’d unfastened the tie so that it hung around his collar. He looked . . . rakish. Good enough to eat. ‘You came! I thought you’d dance all night.’
‘Dillon and Holly threw me out. They said I was too gloomy after you left and I was bringing their party do
She opened her mouth to tell him, but Clay held up a hand. ‘Are you going to get all, you know . . .’ He made a face. ‘Kissy?’
Taylor nodded. ‘Probably.’
He waved his hand toward the door in a shooing motion. ‘Then take it outside, kid.’
‘Privacy. Right.’ She deftly turned the chair around and glided past Ford so quickly that he had to turn on his heel to follow her and nearly stumbled.
‘You’re really good at wheeling that thing yourself,’ he accused as he followed her.
‘Yep. I spent four months in a chair after a horse rolled over me and broke my pelvis. I have biceps of freaking steel.’
‘Your horse . . . You broke your pelvis?’
‘Yeah. It’s fine now. All screwed back together. I set off the metal detector in LAX, and if I have kids, they may need to be delivered by C-section. Otherwise, everything is in perfect working order.’ She lifted her brows as she said this. ‘Got it?’
He actually blushed. ‘Got it.’
‘Good.’
Baltimore, Maryland,
Monday 24 August, 9.00 P.M.
They made it to the waiting room in half the time it had taken the day before, and Ford lowered himself into a chair very carefully, wincing at the sudden tightness of the tux pants. He did not want to have to explain a rip or, God forbid, a stain when he returned the damn monkey suit. That would be beyond embarrassing.
Taylor frowned. ‘Did you hurt yourself at the reception? Dammit, I was afraid you’d reinjure your leg. Do we need to go down to the ER?’
‘No, that’s not the problem.’ The thigh that had been shot had been throbbing all night, but didn’t hold a candle to the throbbing in his groin. ‘If you must know, thinking about all your perfectly working parts has me hard as a rock.’ He stretched his leg out and adjusted himself.
She grinned, pleased with herself. ‘Poor baby.’
‘Yeah,’ he groused, but it was all for show. ‘You go ahead and laugh. I’ll make you pay.’