Family Sins(71)

When Samuel came home and found out what had happened in his absence, he’d called Bowie to check on Talia’s welfare. Within minutes of his call, Michael had called, too, upset that no one had let him know what was going on. After a quick explanation, Bowie had settled back into the chair by Talia’s bedside and closed his eyes.

His heart hurt for her in a way he couldn’t explain. The last seven years had been so hard for her, and just as the suffering was coming to an end he showed back up in her life wanting so desperately to be the good guy she needed, and instead this was what he’d brought to her.

The door to her room opened, and he refocused his thoughts.

It was a nurse coming to check Talia’s IV. “Any activity?” she asked, as she adjusted the flow of the drip.

“No, ma’am,” Bowie said.

She made a note, but when she’d finished what she’d come to do, she hesitated to leave.

“I’m Amber Stewart. I live at the end of Talia’s block. I guess you don’t remember me. I was in the class behind you and Talia in high school.”

Bowie stood up. “Amber Hatfield?”

She smiled, pleased he had remembered.

“Yes, I was a Hatfield. I just wanted to say that I remember how close you two were back then, and while it’s none of my business, I want you to know I’m so happy you’re back in her life. She sacrificed everything for her father. She deserves to be loved.”

“And I’m going to spend the rest of my life on that project,” he said.

She grinned. “When you see Samuel and Bella, tell them Amber said hello. Bella is my first cousin. Her mother and my mother are sisters.”

Bowie reached across the bed and shook her hand.

“Well, then, in mountain terms, it appears we’re family. Nice to see you again, and I’ll pass your message along to Samuel and Bella for sure.”

She smiled and then was out the door.

Bowie looked down, taking comfort in the faint blush of pink beneath Talia’s skin, and brushed a strand of hair away from her face.

“That nurse is Amber Hatfield. She was a year behind us in school. She’s taking good care of you, baby. She’s helping you heal so you can wake up for me.”

Then his voice broke. He looked up at the monitors registering the strength of her life force. The readouts on the machines were nothing but numbers. But they were talking to him when she could not.

My heart still beats. I’m still here, they were saying.

He leaned over the bed to kiss her forehead, leaving his tears on her face. When he reached down to wipe them away, her eyelids fluttered.

His pulse leaped.

“Talia? I’m here, baby. It’s me, Bowie. I’m here.”

Her lips parted ever so briefly as he heard her exhale.

When he reached for her hand, her fingers curled, holding him fast.

“She’s coming back. She’s coming back. Thank you, God,” Bowie whispered.





Sixteen

It had been a long and frustrating day for the Wayne family. People’s behavior toward them was shifting.

That fear of lordly power was gone. The head-ducking unwillingness to make eye contact with the family who held the purse strings to the city was all but gone. Mad Jack had even noticed an outright glare from an employee in the restaurant at the golf course. By the time the day was winding down and the family was gathering for dinner, nerves were on edge.

Nita had already informed Jack that she had invited Andrew and notified Cook of the added guest. And because she was so mellow from a pitcher of margaritas and two straight hours of intermittent orgasms, she’d ordered Cook to prepare a rustic bruschetta to pair with the aperitif she’d chosen for the evening. The light wine was meant to spark an appetite. She could only hope that it might soothe ruffled feathers, as well.

Andrew was his usual urbane self, keeping her entertained and laughing as they waited, and she was congratulating herself on finding him. They’d been together now for almost six months, ever since she and Fiona had come back from New York City, and he was still holding true to his promise to be the best she’d ever had. He was pricey, but well worth it to her.

She’d heard the front door open and close several times in the past half hour, which meant more family members were home. Andrew had just moved to the wet bar to refill Nita’s glass when Jack Wayne entered the library.

“Evening, Andrew. Good evening, Nita,” Jack said, and then politely kissed Nita’s cheek.

“Good evening, sir,” Andrew said. “Would you care for an aperitif?”

“Yes, please,” Jack said. His eyebrows arched as he scanned the delicate bite-size toasted baguette slices topped with a black olive and sun-dried tomato tapenade. “How inviting. Is this your doing, Nita?”

“Don’t be so surprised. Mother had fifteen years of my childhood to induct me into the Emily Post way of life and learning what fork went with which course.”

“Touché,” Jack said, and tried one. “Mmm, quite tasty,” he added, and chased it with a sip of the wine.

Blake entered with Charles on his heels.

Justin strode in with his usual “don’t mess with me” attitude and poured his own wine before claiming his favorite chair.

Fiona straggled in last, muttering something about the condition of her hair and how it needed a cut, and the sacrifices that had to be made being stranded in this town and left to the services of people who barely knew how to wash and dry a client’s hair. After delivering that gripe, she went straight to the bar and demanded a drink.