Jake took a deep breath, and held his voice steady. "And I'm asking about him now. How is he?"
"Why don't you come and see?"
"You make it sound like I haven't done anything all day. The shop—"
"Just hurry up."
"That's where I'm—"
Dial tone.
Jake slammed the receiver down. Stay calm. She's under stress.
He leaned against the counter and ran his hands through his hair before going to his room and changing into comfortable clothes.
Jake went back to the car and made his way to the hospital.
When he got to the waiting room, he saw Brayden sitting in a chair. His eyes were closed, and he didn't look comfortable squished into the chair—Brayden was a head taller than the rest of the Hunter brothers.
Jake sat next to him and cleared his throat.
One of Brayden's eyes cracked open. "Jake, buddy. You made it. Mom's been asking about you."
"So I gathered. How's Dad?"
"Appears to have been a stroke. He has better movement than expected, and he's even speaking better than I would have thought. With some time, I think he'll be back to normal—or at least close. It could be a while, though. Months."
Jake groaned. He was glad his dad wasn't in worse shape, but Jake chose the wrong time to stand up about his hours at the shop.
Brayden gave him a curious look. "Are you okay?"
"I'm in a bit of a mood." Jake took a deep breath. "Why aren't you in there?"
"The room's too full. I've been here since last night, so I offered to come out here. I need some rest anyway."
"Go home," Jake said. "A bed would be more comfortable than this. You're going to have a sore neck."
Brayden sat up and stretched. "That's not a bad idea. You should go back and see Dad. I'll catch a ride with you when you leave."
Jake nodded and stood up. "What room is he in?"
"Six-seventy-one." Brayden closed his eyes again, readjusting himself in the chair.
Jake found his way to his dad's room. It was no wonder Brayden had gone to the waiting room. His mother sat next to the bed, and three other brothers took up the remaining chairs, while an aunt and uncle stood against a wall.
His gaze finally rested on his dad. Jake's heart shattered seeing him in the hospital bed. He pushed his way to the bed. "Dad, are you okay?" Jake took his hand.
His father nodded, although the look in his eyes made Jake wonder if he even recognized him.
"Jake." His dad squeezed Jake's hand.
Relief swept through Jake. He leaned his head against his dad's arm and wept.
Eighteen
Jake felt a hand on his shoulder. He took a deep breath, looked up, and wiped his wet eyes. His aunt Alicia squeezed his shoulder. "He's asked about you a lot. It's good to see you."
Jake stood and gave her a hug. He then said hi to his brothers and turned back to his dad. "I've kept the shop going. It's going better than ever. You don't need to worry about the bills. Everything is going to be just fine." He sniffed, and then wiped his eyes again.
His dad nodded and mumbled something.
"Shh. Don't worry about speaking." Jake kneeled, and slid his hand in his father's. "Get some rest, Dad. We're all here for you, but you don't need to do anything except get better."
"Jake… I love you."
Tears filled Jake's eyes. "Dad, I love you, too." He blinked the tears away, and stared at his father who looked ten years older than he had the other day. He'd already aged prematurely after Sophia's passing, and now he looked old enough to be Jake's grandpa. His hair was significantly grayer and his wrinkles were deeper. Maybe it was only the lighting, and he would look better once at home.
His dad squeezed his hand. One half of his mouth smiled.
Jake's heart ached. "Rest, Dad." He couldn't take his eyes off his dad.
Would he really be okay? He hoped Brayden was right, and that it was only a matter of time. Jake leaned his head against his father's arm again. Would life ever return normal? Or would his family die off one by one? First Sophia, then his dad, followed by his mom? Who next?
He closed his eyes. Soon, conversation started around the room. Jake recognized who spoke, but couldn't make sense of anything said. All he could think about was how he didn't want to lose his dad. He hadn't even had a chance to properly mourn his sister.
After a while, Jake looked up to see his dad sleeping. Jake turned to his mom. "Why don't you let me bring you home? You've been here since last night. Get cleaned up, and sleep in your own bed."
"I can't leave his side."
"You have to take care of yourself. Someone will be here with him at all times." Jake looked around the full room. "Right?"
Cruz sat up and took his coat off, showing his heavily-tattooed arms. "I'll be here, Mom. If he needs anything, I'll get it. Jake's right. You need sleep. I haven't even seen you sit down since I got here."
Zachary stuffed his phone into his pocket, nodding to their mom. "I'm not going anywhere either. Dad's well taken care of, and you know what? He'll be glad you're home resting. He doesn't want you wasting away in that chair."
"They're right, Mom," said Rafael, pulling on the sleeves of his designer shirt—one that he had probably created himself. "The three of us will take care of him. You can send in Brayden, too, when he wakes up. I saw him sleeping in the waiting room."
She looked back and forth at them. "But, I…I can't. What if he wakes up and I'm not here?"
Cruz put an arm around her, and kissed the top of her head. "He'll understand. Do you think he'd want you driving yourself into the ground?"
"Probably not." She frowned.
"You know he wouldn't," Jake said. "Let me drive you home, and then we can return after you've had some sleep."
She leaned against Cruz's shoulder. "Tell him I'll be back soon. Please."
"Of course, Mom. He'll be glad to hear you're taking care of yourself. Besides, if you get sick, how are you going to take care of him? You're taking care of yourself for him. The stronger you are, the more you can give him." Cruz nudged her toward the door.
"Point taken." She moved Cruz's arm, and then went to the bed, whispering in her husband's ear. She gave him a kiss, and then turned to Jake. "Do you want me to have one of your brothers drive me? You've hardly spent any time here."
He looked up at the clock. "Dad's sleeping, Mom. Plus, I'm exhausted from running the shop all day." He wasn't about to mention Elena helping him out in the shop. If they thought he could get them free help, his parents wouldn't ever agree to hiring employees.
Cruz raised an eyebrow—the one without piercings. "You're manning the shop all on your own, dude?"
"You see anyone else helping me?" Jake asked, his voice exasperated.
"I mean you haven't hired help?" Rafael asked, looking at Jake like he had lost his mind.
Jake took a deep breath. "I'm not allowed."
"Mom," Zachary said. "How could you guys do that to Jake? It wears me out working there all day with another person."
Cruz turned to their mom. "Let me help Jake with the shop. That way he can spend more time here, or at least get some rest. I've never seen him so ragged. Zachary's right. Jake can't keep this up."
She sighed, looking like she had no fight left in her. "Whatever you boys feel like doing."
Rafael helped her get a jacket on, and then she hugged everyone else in the room goodbye.
Jake gave Cruz a fist pump to thank him for agreeing to help him with the shop. Then he helped his mom out of the room. They made their way to the waiting room and then said goodbye to the relatives there.
Jake noticed a headache building behind his right eye.
While his mom spoke to one of her sisters, Jake pulled Brayden aside. "Are you sure Dad's going to go back to normal? Did you hear his speech?"
"Of course. With therapy, he'll be back to his old self. He sounds a lot better than most stroke victims."
"But what about his r
esponsibilities?" Jake asked. "He mows the lawn, needs to start running the shop again, and he takes care of the finances. I think he's trying to hide it, but his left arm barely moved."
"Again, therapy." Brayden patted Jake's shoulder. "I'm telling you, all we need is time. Yes, it looks bad now, but he's going to improve each day."
Jake gritted his teeth. "You're a heart doctor, not a stroke expert. Why do you think you know so much about Dad's condition?"
"I've spoken with the doctors here, Jake. They've explained everything to me. It was caught early, and they were able to treat it within a good window of time. We were really lucky."
"Lucky. Right." Jake shook his head. "Our family doesn't have good luck. If we did, Sophia would still be with us and Dad would be home."
"If Sophia taught us anything, it was to appreciate our loved ones while they're with us. Wouldn't you say? Dad's still with us—I don't think we could ask for more at this point."
"What about Sophia? We could ask for her back." Tears stung his eyes. "How much more heartache can this family take?" How much more could Jake take?
"Let's hope we don't have to find out," Brayden said. "Why don't you just get Mom home? I'll stay here with Dad as long we need. Both of you look like you need a long night's sleep."
Jake's body ached with exhaustion. "I know I do, and I doubt she's gotten much sleep here."
They walked over to rest of the family, and Jake managed to get his mom into the car and away from the hospital. As soon as they pulled out of the parking lot, she let out a loud cry. "How could this have happened?"
"I don't know, Mom. We're going to have to ask more questions and do our own research."
"First our Sophia, and now this." She sobbed into her hands.
Jake didn't say anything. She likely needed a good cry. Knowing her, she had probably put on a tough face all day at the hospital, trying to be strong for everyone else.
When they got home, he helped her out of the car. "Are you hungry? I can make something to eat." Despite how tired he was, his stomach growled.
"How can I think of food?"
"Because you need to take care of yourself, Mom. How are you going to be any good for Dad if you get sick from not eating or sleeping? We're home so you can recharge, and that's going to take food and rest."
"Oh, all right. If you insist. I think I'll take a shower and get cleaned up first. No need to bring all the hospital germs in our room."
Jake opened the front door. "Perfect. When you get out, I'll have something ready to eat."
She headed for the bathroom while he locked the door. It was strange to be home with only his mom. The house had a quietness that felt wrong. His dad and Sophia should have been there.
The answering machine flashed the number sixteen. He played through them to make sure there wasn't anything important, which there weren't. They were all as he figured. Friends and family calling to find out what was going on. Everyone wanted the details. And they would have to wait.
Zachary, who practically lived online, had posted some updates on social media, but that was never enough. His family was all about personal connections. Forget texting or replying with a comment online when you can call and hear someone's voice.
Jake went through the cupboards and fridge, not finding much he wanted to make. Finally, he found some canned soup buried in the back of the pantry. He dumped the contents into a pot and then made sandwiches. It was at least something to fill their stomachs while they slept.
By the time his mom came into the kitchen, Jake was had just set the table.
"That smells good, Son. Thanks."
"Don't thank me yet. You haven't even tasted it."
Her lips curled upward a little. "Always one to make me smile." She kissed his cheek and then sat down. "Would you bless the meal? Your father usually—" Her voice cracked.
"No problem." He took her hand and prayed over the meal, also asking for an extra blessing on his dad.
They ate the soup and sandwiches in silence.
As he was finishing up, he noticed tears shining in her eyes. "He's going to be okay, Mom. Brayden said it wasn't a bad stroke, and that he should make a full recovery."
"But no one knows. Not even the doctors can see into the future. They just make guesses."
"Based on everything they know and have seen, which is more than we know and have seen. We have to trust them, and Brayden wouldn't lie to us."
She shook her head. "No, he wouldn't. But I won't believe anything until I see it with my own two eyes."
Jake patted the top of her hand. "Tomorrow he'll be doing even better than he was today. I promise."
"You don't know that."
"No, but we have to believe. He needs us to."
She nodded. "You're right. Thanks again for making the food. Would you mind waking me at seven?"
"Do you realize how late it is now?" Jake asked. "You need more sleep than that. Dad has plenty of people to keep him company. It'll make him happy that you're taking care of yourself."
His mom scowled. "Okay. Wake me at nine. What are we going to do about the shop?"
"I'll have to open late. It won't be a big deal."
Her eyes widened.
"Kittle Falls will get along just fine for one morning with us."
"But our finances. We—"
"It'll be fine. I promise. Just get some sleep."
"Nine o'clock." She gave him a stern look.
"Sure thing. Goodnight, Mom." He forced a smile.
She squeezed him tightly, and he returned the embrace.
After cleaning the dishes, Jake climbed into bed, and reached for the alarm. He fell asleep before he touched it. He fell to the pillow, already dreaming.
Nineteen
Tiffany's elbow slid off the edge of the railing as she stared into the ocean. Her eyes grew heavy, but she couldn't sleep. She readjusted herself, unable to stop thinking about her date with Jake. Everything had been perfect…too perfect?
Would the other shoe drop? Could Jake be hiding something? Everyone had secrets—including her. She hadn't even told him her real name. Sure, Elena was her new name, but would it wasn't her real name. Would someone call out "Elena" causing her to turn automatically, knowing it was her? It didn't seem likely.
Guilt stung at her for distrusting him…and keeping such a big secret from him. He was so sweet and caring. He would probably never do the things to her that Trent had done. In fact, he would probably recoil if he knew how long she allowed herself to stay and put up with it.
Jake was everything Trent wasn't, but could her heart handle the risk? Would they both be better off if she simply moved on as planned? It certainly wasn't fair to Jake for her to drag him into her emotional mess. It would probably take years to get over all the damage inflicted by Trent.
She watched people on the beach down below. From the looks of it, the beach was never empty, regardless of the time. At least not in the summer, according to what Jake had said. This far north in California, it was bound to get cold in the winter. Perhaps even as cold as back home. Correction—her old home. She couldn't return there unless Trent was dead or incarcerated, and she couldn't see that happening.
Tiffany noticed a couple sitting by the water's edge far away from the others. They looked cozy, and made her think of Jake. It had felt so good to let go of everything, and just enjoy nature in his arms. Chills ran down her back just thinking of his soft breath on her neck and ears. Oh, how she had wanted him to kiss her. But he had been a perfect gentleman…and that made him all the more desirable.
He was everything she wanted—no, needed. Better, in fact. He was gorgeous, but didn't seem to know it. So many guys thought they were far hotter than they actually were. Men like Trent strutted around like a proud, ugly rooster, thinking they were God's gift to the world. Not Jake, though he easily could have.
Tiffany watched the waves crash, remembering the water near their feet at their secret beach. She could almost feel Jake's warm embrace
as she stood on the deck.
It had been so long since she'd allowed herself to feel safe. When Trent wrapped her arms around her, he made Tiffany feel trapped. She always had a mental image of being tied up with a chain and locked up when Trent held her. His grasp was always harsh. Every time he touched her, it felt like a show of ownership instead of a kind embrace…unlike Jake. When he touched her, they seemed to connect on a deep level where words couldn't reach.
They both had their own pain. It was clear the loss of his sister had deeply affected him. Her heart warmed thinking about how sweet that was. He cared so deeply—that much was clear. And he didn't let the pain ruin him. Jake didn't lash out with anger because life wasn't fair. He didn't think the world owed him.
Jake was the kind of guy Tiffany wanted to spend the rest of her life with, if she chose to spend her life with someone. The timing couldn't have been worse. She needed space and time. Probably counseling, and lots of it. Although just the few days already spent away from Trent helped her feel better about everything. Maybe getting away from him was all the professional help she needed.
Tiffany shook her head. That wasn't true, and she knew it. If she was ever going to trust another man with her heart again, it would take years of therapy first. She couldn't get Trent out of her mind. Nearly every thought led back to him and his cruelty. She couldn't stop comparing Jake to him.
She couldn't do that to Jake. He deserved so much more. And he wouldn't want to marry a divorced woman. Not that Tiffany was even divorced yet. Hopefully, though, her grandpa's friends would move the paperwork as fast as promised.
Tiffany turned around and leaned her back against the railing, staring into the hotel room. She was such a liar. When she came clean, Jake would run away, screaming. He wouldn't want someone so…tainted. A bold-faced liar.
Tears ran down her face, and she didn't bother wiping them away. She slid down to the ground and wrapped her arms around her knees. She didn't want to ruin Jake or the wonderful time they'd had.
The best thing to do was walk away—it was the only fair thing to do for Jake. Then they would at least have the memories. If she never loved again, she would at least know she'd been treated well this one week in Kittle Falls. She could hold onto the untainted memories. Every relationship had its problems, and as wonderful as Jake was, they would have a lot of problems because of Tiffany's wounds. She would ruin what they had. It would be better to just have the memories of this short-lived fairy tale.
Seaside Surprises: A Sweet Romance (The Seaside Hunters) Page 9