by Nella Tyler
“Not to mention recovering from the kidnapping of Carson; she’s probably letting all this run together in her mind. She’s liable to be terrified that Scott can get at her or to the boy.
“No telling what she’s thinking, but my advice is that the sooner she gets someone to talk to, the better.”
Cole turned and faced the window, the muscle jerking in his jaw. He felt a cold rage threatening to overcome his ability to contain his emotions.
If he were in combat, Scott would be dead by friendly fire; that much was certain. As it was, he was going to put out a handsome reward for his, and Mary’s, capture. He would put an end to this nightmare for Gilda, and Carson, if it was the last thing he did.
“You have someone to recommend, Dr. Keeler? Someone who can come here to the house to see her?”
“Well, maybe, but maybe not. I’ll make a call and get back to you. If not, I’ll get a recommendation for someone who is close by. There ought to be a few in a place like this,” he commented dryly.
Cole got the distinct idea that Dr. Keeler was not entirely impressed with wealth. He had to agree with the old guy — there was so much more to life than money.
Chapter 37
Dr. Karen Dillon sat on the same side chair that Dr. Keeler had pulled to Gilda’s bedside. Her iPad was across her lap, and she was making notes.
Gilda lay quietly, wanting her normal life back. Her heart ached, and she felt an unusual fear deep in her gut. She couldn’t sleep, even after Dr. Keeler had removed the staples and the bandages were lightened. Cole held her hand at night or simply put his hand on her arm, letting her know he was there for her, but not moving excessively to cause her discomfort.
Now there was a new doctor here: a psychologist. Dr. Keeler had told her that he thought it might help her to talk about things, and while she protested, Cole insisted it wouldn’t hurt. He had called a female doctor intentionally, as Gilda had no female friends, with the exception of kindly Mrs. Crutcher, who was in position to help her. Mary had been her best friend and now Mary was part of the problem.
“Tell me about your first marriage, Gilda. What sort of man was Scott?” she asked.
What sort of man was he? Gilda’s first reaction was to defend him, the way she’d done for so long. Everyone in town had known he was bad news, but when Gilda had joined forces with him, he’d became her responsibility to defend.
“He wasn’t a very good man,” she began and the familiar sense of cold dread in her stomach started.
“Was he abusive?” Karen asked in a matter-of-fact voice.
“I think you already know the answer to that or you wouldn’t be here. Of course, he was abusive! He kidnapped my son and slept with my mother and my best friend. When I got ‘out of line,’ as he called it, he beat me and held a loaded gun to my head. How many types of abuse do you want to talk about?” Gilda blurted this tirade in an angry burst — but the doctor remained dispassionate. Gilda hated her for that. How could anyone not be affected by suffering?
“Did he abuse your son?”
“No. Carson was only one when we left.”
“Had he abused others? Old girlfriends? Sisters?”
“Why don’t you ask them? Why are you here, anyway? Cole! Dr. Keeler!” Gilda called out at the top of her weakened voice. She heard footfalls, and Herbert tapped and came in.
“Ma’am? May I be of service?”
“Get my husband or my doctor, please.” It was not a request, but an order. Herbert nodded and disappeared.
Cole and Dr. Keeler both came in moments later. “What’s wrong?” Cole asked her, alarmed that she’d interrupt her session to summon him.
“I don’t want to talk to any more psychologists. No therapists. No one. Dr. Keeler is here, and that’s all I need for now. Most of all, Cole, I need you,” she began to cry.
The tears grew heavier and soon, she was sobbing in deep, gasping breaths. Cole climbed onto the bed from his side and moved to put his arm around her, laying her head on his chest. He motioned to the others to leave, and Dr. Keeler ushered a very indignant Dr. Dillon out of the room.
“Hush, now, sweetheart. You have to get hold of yourself. They’re only trying to help, you know. No one wants to hurt you or make things worse.”
“Cole, I just want normal…just a normal, average life with no one kidnapping my child, no betrayals, and no demands on me for a while.
“I’m so sorry I lost the baby, Cole. I’m so sorry I didn’t get to a doctor as soon as I started feeling bad. This could have maybe all been averted,” she sobbed.
His hand shot out and he held her chin, turning her to face him. “Now, I want you to listen to me.”
She continued to shake with sobs.
“Gilda! Listen!” he barked. She froze at the tone of his voice. She’d never heard him use that tone or pitch before.
“Now,” he began, reaching behind himself to snag tissues and wipe her face. “First of all, this is me beside you: your husband, Cole. Nobody else. I love you and I’m not leaving you, nor is anyone going to get to you or to Carson. I’m going to protect you; do you understand? Do you?” he repeated, and Gilda nodded.
“Dr. Keeler and I had a talk right after you came home from the hospital. I know, Gilda. I know about the other baby,” he told her as gently as he could.
Her eyes shot up to his face, but she saw no blame or condemnation in them. “How does he know?” she asked.
“It was in your medical records, but that’s not important. What is important is that you get better. The only way that’s going to happen is if you deal with the past and put it behind yourself. That is why Dr. Dillon was called in. She’s here to help you talk through it, to remove the demons, so to speak.”
“Didn’t like her.”
“Why not?”
“She’s a bitch.”
Cole had to stifle a smile, tucking her head beneath his chin. “And, why is she a bitch?”
Gilda squirmed in the covers and she let her head fall against Cole’s chest. “She’s asking questions like a medical form. She has no emotion; she’s not even good at asking her damned questions.”
“Then she’s the wrong person for you. We’ll bring in someone else. No problem. I want you to be completely comfortable.”
“Why do I have to talk to anyone?”
“You’re so sad, honey. Even little Carson is worried about you.”
“Cole, I’ve lost a baby…our baby…and if I’d gone to a doctor earlier, it could have been prevented.”
“Gilda, look at me. You are not responsible for the baby. I’ve talked to the doctors. They tell me that due to the size of the gallstones, there was no way they could have avoided going in. By the time you began feeling the discomfort, it was already too late to prevent it.
“It was just a tragedy based on timing — there was no negligence on your part, and I’m not going to allow you to take the blame for it. Do you understand me? None of it was your fault.”
Cole was trying to moderate his voice to be convincing, and yet not so loud or forceful to upset Gilda. She was breaking his heart. She hadn’t done anything to bring all that onto herself and yet she was suffering the most. It simply wasn’t fair to her, and he intended to spend the rest of his life trying to make up for the cruelty of others.
Cole looked down to see her reaction and saw that she had fallen asleep in his arms. He smiled, recognizing that her crying jag was done and she had evidently relaxed enough from her inner guilt to let herself sleep. He hoped he’d had something to do with her releasing the guilt.
Chapter 38
Everyone watched as slowly, Gilda began to regain herself, smiling a bit more, inviting Carson to sit on the bed and watch television with her, and coming downstairs for meals. Her surgery was healing well, and she could dress normally and move about with only an occasional twinge as the muscles that had been severed in surgery began to knit.
She napped frequently and Cole took advantage of these breaks, lying down
with her. Although she was still too tender for what he’d like to do to her, he contented himself with opening her blouse and gently sucking on her breasts, petting her nipples — in general being loving and yet a little romantic; that made them both feel good.
“I’m sorry all this has sort of ruined our private time,” she apologized one afternoon.
“Are you kidding? Sweetheart, just being next to you is a thousand times preferred to being without you. We’ve got all the time in the world. I just want you to feel better so you can have the normal life you miss.”
“I love you, Cole.”
“Oh, sweetheart,” he groaned, wrapping his arm around her and running his fingertips down her breasts and onto her pussy, which was bare since she’d just showered and had laid down naked between the sheets.
“Ahhh…” she moaned as her legs parted of their own volition. Cole smiled and slid toward the foot of the bed, positioning himself between her legs.
With gentle fingers, he separated her labia lips and began to suck her tender skin. Gilda’s eyes rolled backward as the remembered feelings began to once again flood her. “Ohhhh, Cole, honey, I’d forgotten how good you can make me feel,” she sighed.
“I’d forgotten how good you taste, sweetheart,” he whispered, feeding off her.
The tender flesh had been long ignored. She felt her orgasm coming quickly and called his name softly.
He knew she couldn’t bear his weight, especially while she was still healing, so he reached for her hand and put it on himself. They turned toward one another, kissed and while staring into one another’s eyes, stroking the other one until they crested and released.
Cole sighed as Gilda smiled and then closed her eyes to sleep. He’d forgotten how much he loved being with her. She was his entire life, and their recent scare had underscored that.
Cole napped briefly beside her, but his mind was working, and before long, he got up and went downstairs into his mahogany-paneled office. He flung himself into the tufted-leather chair and tapped a number on his phone.
“Stephens here. What’s the update?” he asked, his voice authoritative and in charge. “That is not acceptable.” More discussion and excuses from the other end. “You’ve got forty-eight hours to find this asshole, or I will find someone who can,” he barked and disconnected.
Cole sat there, the tension in his posture revealing the turmoil inside. He finally slammed his fist on the desk and picked the phone up again. “Cole Stephens here,” he said tersely. “You still available? Good. Packet coming your way — usual method. Get it done. Now.” He disconnected again and looked at the ceiling.
As much as he hadn’t wanted to ever make that call, he had just let loose the kraken.
* * *
With Gilda improving daily, Cole concerned himself with the business of organizing his father’s holdings. The estate had an entire wing dedicated to business: offices for himself and a small staff, a conference room, a small viewing auditorium, and a few guest rooms for those who would be staying overnight.
He called in the managers of all his concerns and one by one, received an update on each company’s status. He had decided to hire a professional CEO to consolidate most of the holdings, sell off those he didn’t want, and streamline the diverse holdings into a trackable entity that kept the income stream for all those employees involved, but left Cole free to live a life laced with Gilda, Carson, and hopefully, more children.
After some inquiries, he interviewed a sleek, professionally-attired ex-financier named Gregory Clintock. He came highly recommended, and Cole knew before the end of their first interview that he’d found the right man.
Clintock made no secret of the fact that he hoped to increase his personal fortune with Cole’s help and may even be interested in purchasing some of the smaller, outlying companies he was cutting loose. Thus, Clintock would work in tandem, seeing to Cole’s interests, as well as his own.
Cole liked this idea; it kept things honest and transparent. There was no doubt Clintock knew what he was doing, but even so, Cole would never let go of the reins entirely.
Clintock sat in the tapestry-upholstered chair opposite Cole’s desk. His legs were long and well-clad in an expensive suit, one knee artfully laid over the other leg in a cunningly anticipated posture that indicated indifference and yet authority at the same time.
Cole didn’t trust him, and that’s exactly why he hired him. Clintock thought exactly the way George had and for that reason, he was the perfect choice to consolidate.
“Your objective?” Clintock asked succinctly.
“Anything that’s on American soil should be consolidated and expanded. Dump anything offshore. You can buy it, as long as the price is reasonable, but take it. I don’t want it any longer.”
“You do understand, don’t you, that doing that will be putting all your eggs in one basket?”
“I do. It won’t be the first time I’ve fought for my country, and it won’t be the last.”
“There are going to be some unhappy people, not to mention a free-for-all to scoop up your father’s work.”
“I realize that. They’re welcome to it. I want out. Is there a way I need to state that more clearly?”
Clintock looked doubtful. “You’ve made yourself clear; just seems a shame.”
“Is there anything else?”
Clintock’s posture shifted, and he stood and held out his hand. “No, sir. I think you’ve made things perfectly clear. I’ll keep you updated and make this a priority.”
“One other thing, Clintock,” Cole said as the man was almost out the door. He stopped, without looking around. “I want it kept quiet. Private meetings, quiet exchanges, hand to hand. I want no impact to reflect back on my American concerns.”
“Yes, sir, not a problem,” Clintock said over his shoulder and left.
Cole contemplated Clintock’s attitude and decided he had joined hands with the devil, but then the devil’s role model had assembled everything to begin with. It was time to tear the walls down.
Chapter 39
It was Carson’s sixth birthday and Cole and Gilda decided to have a no-holds-barred party in his honor. Gilda had carefully cultivated a small group of friends for Carson: children and grandchildren of wealthy families.
She wasn’t necessarily crazy about their elitist attitudes, but she was smart enough to recognize that Carson, who would one day become Cole’s legal son, would have a far greater advantage in his life if he made connections with others as a child. She believed people always seek the level to which they are accustomed.
Gilda hired a party planner and the theme was that of a popular science fiction series set in another galaxy. The result was a mammoth, 360-degree temporary building with an interior fashioned to look like the surface of another planet. The children were all given laser light guns and theatrical smoke wove in and about the Styrofoam rocks and unearthly trees and fauna. Strobe lights and a moving celestial sky gave an unearthly sensation to the occupants.
Carson was beside himself with excitement. The children were allowed to roam freely, and for children who were required to be quiet unless spoken to, this alone was a coveted freedom.
Otherworld creatures in costume circulated with trays of strange-looking concoctions that were actually hotdogs and cupcakes in disguise. Drinks had vapor streams of green and orange, and even the utensils were shaped like frozen creatures with multiple legs and heads. Gilda was amazed at the creativity the party planner exhibited and rewarded the effort with a healthy tip.
By day’s end, Carson was exhausted but possibly the happiest he’d been in his entire life. He’d never had a birthday party, and to have one that was so over the top was so exciting he couldn’t stop talking about it.
“He’s overdue to start school, Gilda,” Cole brought up as they went to bed that night.
“Yes, I know. I just couldn’t bring myself to enroll him in the city, withall the problems the schools there had. Now, of course, here it�
�s different. Do you have one to recommend? Is there a bus? How does it work here?”
He laughed. “No, sweetheart, the schools here are quite different. They are more of a boarding school, although the students are permitted weekend passes to come home. During the week they are in small classes with very qualified professors who will identify their individual strengths and incorporate individualized classes.
“There will be, of course, the standard, reading, writing, and stock market mathematics,” he added to Gilda’s shocked look. He laughed. “Just teasing. The kids here are taught the basics just as you were, although I was serious about the boarding school.”
“I don’t know if I like the idea of him being gone through the week,” she commented. “I will miss him, and I think he’s too young.”
“Sweetheart, he’ll only be a couple of miles away, and it’s a good thing for a child to learn to be away from home. Makes them resourceful and independent. They learn to assimilate with others better and won’t be homesick.”
“I see the point in that; Lord knows I was a homesick mess, even though my mama wasn’t very good to be around. She was all I knew, though.”
“Exactly. Carson will be the better for it. Besides, when we begin to add more children to our family, the other siblings will get their share of attention in turn,” he said matter-of-factly.
Gilda looked at him in surprise. “Other children? I’m not having any more children, Cole,” she announced.
His mouth opened, but he stopped before saying the first thing that came to mind. He had to remember that she was still carrying guilt, even though none was earned.
“We won’t talk about that now, Gilda. There’s no hurry. If and when you’re ready, we can talk about it then.”
She seemed appeased for the moment and crept closer to lie on his chest. Her hand reached for his naked member, and she began to pet him. He inflated almost immediately, the touch of her hand having been so seldom offered over the previous few months.