by Kim Law
He closed his eyes again, frustration mounting, but as soon as he did, rustling came from the recliner. Turning his head where it lay on the back of the sofa, he discovered his dad fumbling with the lever to lower the footrest.
“Cord?” His dad stopped mid-action as soon as he locked eyes on Cord. He looked around as if confused. “What are you doing here? Where’s Gloria?”
“I think she went into one of the bedrooms.” Cord moved to get up. “I’ll get her for you.”
“No.” His dad’s gaze flicked toward the hall. He lowered the footrest with a soft thump. “Let her be. She’s probably lying down.”
They were both now taking extra naps?
“What are you doing here?” he asked again. “You weren’t at your sister’s house Thursday night.”
No, he hadn’t been at Dani’s house. That’s where the family had gotten together. He gave a shrug, not wanting to admit that Nate had called him. “I decided to get away for a few days after all. I’m staying over at the cabins.”
“Is that so?” His dad picked up the glass of water on the side table but merely glanced down at it instead of taking a drink. “Anybody else out there with you?”
Cord paused with the question. “Renting, you mean?” But upon second thought, he didn’t think that was what his dad actually meant. “Or staying in the cabin with me?”
The thought irked. After all the months of coming in every few weeks to check on the man, he immediately assumed Cord was there to shack up with someone instead of to check on him? But then, hadn’t that been Cord’s MO for years? He’d spent more time since leaving for college worrying about himself, building his career, and seeking the pleasures of women than coming home to visit his family.
That had changed in the spring, though.
Honestly, it had begun to change before that. As each of his siblings had settled into a new life, he’d found himself being drawn home more often. It was nice to see their happiness.
His dad studied him. “Renting,” he finally answered, but Cord wasn’t fooled.
“No.” And he wasn’t about to mention that Maggie had stayed last night. Her being there wasn’t the same as what his dad had been implying anyway. It was worse. “Nate said a couple of the cabins had been reserved for the weekend, but when the forecast changed, pushing the snow into the area sooner than expected, the reservations got canceled. No one wanted to risk getting stuck here longer than the holiday weekend.”
“Probably smart. Sounds like we’re still in for another foot of it.”
“Looks that way, too.” Why were they talking about the weather? And why did the conversation seem so stilted?
What was he missing?
He moved to the end of the couch closest to his dad and leaned in, elbows propped on his knees, and he studied his father’s face. There seemed to be a hopelessness wedged in the crevices that had been carved throughout the past year. Or maybe it was just the fact that his dad looked so much older.
And then Cord read the changes for what they likely were. His dad simply looked tired. Extremely so.
Which would explain taking a nap at nine in the morning.
“What’s going on, Dad?” He reached out and touched his dad’s knee. “I came to town to check on you, okay? Not for any other reason. I should have come on Thursday, and I didn’t, so I’m here now. But then I show up and find that you’re taking a nap at nine in the morning. What’s up with that?”
Faded blue eyes met his, and Cord wondered if his eyes would look like that one day. Would he lose the vibrant hue he and each of his siblings had inherited, only to look as tired as their dad?
“I just didn’t sleep well,” his dad answered. “Nothing to worry about.”
Cord didn’t believe him. “Is it the medication? Gloria mentioned that you started taking naps about the time the last changes were made.”
The edges of his dad’s mouth pulled down. “The medication is fine. I’m just not sleeping well.”
“But hadn’t you been sleeping fine before?”
The only answer was a mulish stare, and Cord decided to change tactics. He sat back and took in his father as he would a patient. His coloring was fine. His breathing good. There were a couple of over-the-counter pain reliever bottles on the side table, as well as a bottle of lotion and a container of nuts. The prothesis lying on the floor appeared to be in good shape and ready to be used.
His father did seem okay. At least, on the outside.
Yet he wasn’t sleeping well.
And he’d completely quit going over to the worksites.
Nate was right. Him not checking on progress, at least at the main house, didn’t make sense. His dad had stated his desire several times to be part of the new direction the family was taking the business, and because of that desire, he’d been keeping a close eye on the renovations. He’d been working hard to return to full mobility so he could be available day one when the lodge opened. He and Gloria both intended to help at the check-in desk.
Cord then pictured Gloria standing in the kitchen when he’d first come in, her cheeks flushed. And now she was napping. Did he have it wrong? Was it not his dad they should be worried about?
“Is it Gloria?” he probed. “Is something wrong with her?”
His dad rubbed at the end of his amputated leg. “No. She’s just tired, too. My tossing and turning keeps her up.”
“Is it your leg?”
The rubbing stopped as abruptly as Cord fired the question. Wary eyes watched his.
“Is your leg hurting, Dad? Is something going on that you haven’t told anyone?”
“Rubbing it is simply habit now.” The reply came quick, almost as if it had been repeated before, and Cord noted that the answer hadn’t been “no.” Something was off with his dad’s leg.
He leaned back in, putting his face directly in line with his father’s, and he delivered the look he’d seen parents give unruly children. “I’m not leaving here until you tell me what’s going on. Until you let me help. That’s why I came over.”
“You need to get back to work.”
“Not today, I don’t.”
His dad looked pained, but not in the physical sense, and his hesitancy bothered Cord.
What was so bad that he wouldn’t want to share it?
“What is it?” he urged. “Nate mentioned that you didn’t stay at Dani’s very long Thursday night. He also said you’ve quit visiting the jobsites.”
“It’s too cold to go out.”
“Okay. I can understand that.” The temperature had certainly taken a turn into frigid lately. “So, you’re just sitting here all day doing nothing?”
“I’m still doing physical therapy.”
“And how is that going?”
His dad glanced over his shoulder as if expecting Gloria to come down the hall, and when he turned back, his posture sunk. The air pushed out of his chest. “I did miss a couple of appointments recently, okay?”
“Why?”
“Because . . .” He sighed, then he reached for his pant leg.
He rolled the material up over the end of his limb, and when Cord got his first look, the bottom fell out of his stomach.
“Dad.” The flesh around the scarring was swollen and covered with sores.
“Shhh,” his father hissed. “Don’t wake Gloria. She doesn’t need to worry about this. I’ve been having a little trouble with my new leg, is all.”
“And you’re just now telling someone?” There was one place on the outside edge that was not only rubbed raw but looked like it had been bleeding. Cord hurt for the man. He knew it had to be hard to suddenly be so dependent on others. “Why wasn’t this reported by your physical therapist?” he asked.
“He doesn’t know about it. We’re working on walking right now. I do exercises with the leg on.”
Meaning, his therapist hadn’t been fully checking his dad during whatever appointments he had actually made it to. Because no way had his dad’s efforts not taken
a downward turn since this issue started. And there hadn’t been an issue the last time Cord had been home.
“I’ll be talking to your therapist,” he growled, angry for the unneeded pain his dad had to deal with. “Someone should have noticed this.” He squatted in front of the recliner to examine the leg and gently probed at the area. “When did this start? And why haven’t you told anyone? Your prosthesis needs to be adjusted.”
“Telling someone is what I’m doing now.”
Going back on his haunches, Cord stared up at his dad as understanding dawned. “You were waiting for me to come home before mentioning it?” And then he hadn’t been home in over a month.
“It’s just that everyone is so busy.” Guilt seemed to consume his dad. “I don’t want to be any more of a burden than I am. Gloria does so much. She helps me do darned near everything. She’s worn down, and I won’t add any more to it. And then three of your brothers are getting ready for new babies. Their wives need their husbands at home, not running me all over the place. Nate is working hard to get the house done and ready to open, and Jaden’s only been on the job as a counselor for a few months. I didn’t want to ask him to take time off, either. Nor do I want to ask you. I know how many days you’ve already been out of the office this year because of me, and there’s no need to take any more.”
“Then who do you expect to help you?”
His father looked lost. “I was hoping it would get better without having to bother anyone. I put lotion on it all the time.”
Cord hung his head. “Dad. You can’t fix this by yourself.”
“Apparently,” he grumbled. He rubbed his calloused and age-stained thumb along the edge of the worst spot. “This is from Thursday. I tucked a piece of gauze in there before we headed over to your sister’s, hoping to pad the spot that always gets the worst of it. But the gauze must have slipped. I came home with this, instead.”
This being the equivalent of a second-degree burn. “Has it been bleeding?” Heated red skin rimmed the edges, indicating an infection had already set in.
His dad nodded. “A little. When we got home, I got it cleaned up myself. Gloria had lunch plans with a friend on Friday, and I didn’t want her to cancel.”
Stubborn man.
Cord rose to his feet. If he’d come in on Thursday, he could have gotten this taken care yesterday. Now his dad had to wait even longer. “I’ll take you to the prosthetist on Monday. Be ready to go.”
“No. I’m serious, Cord. I don’t want you taking more time off work because of me. I’ll tell Gloria, and she can take me.”
“Yes, you will tell her.” He glared at his father. “Because you shouldn’t have hidden it from her to begin with. She wants to be there for you, Dad. You know that. And she’ll feel awful thinking you had an issue and she didn’t notice.” Gloria was terrific with his dad. They’d been together for seven years before they’d married almost three years ago. “I’ll still take you on Monday, though. And it won’t be a problem because I already have the day off. In fact”—he muttered—“I have the whole freaking week off.”
His dad looked at him. “You’re taking a week off?” His shock was obvious.
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because I want to.” He gave his father the same mulish stare he’d inherited. His dad wasn’t the only Wilde who could be stubborn.
His father didn’t believe him, though. Cord could tell. A year ago, the man wouldn’t have known that about him, but over the course of the last eight months, they’d spent a lot of time together. Far more than they had since Cord went away to college. And his dad knew he liked to work. That he took pride in being an excellent physician.
It had been difficult getting away every time Cord needed to be here, but he’d managed it. Often by being on the phone multiple times throughout the day. If one of his patients came in with an unexpected issue, his partners knew to keep him in the loop. He wanted his patients to know that he was always there for them, even if he couldn’t physically be in the same location.
He wasn’t there for them right now, though.
That was one of the things he and his partners had argued about after they’d asked him to take time off. After an hour of discussion that had gone nowhere, he’d finally relented and agreed to a two-week vacation. Then he’d return, and his life would resume exactly as it had been. Of course, his partners still wanted him to speak to a counselor during this break.
And, of course, he had no intention of doing so.
He stepped away from his dad, his anger back in full force. If he’d come home weeks before, he would have caught this issue in the beginning stages. Just like, if he hadn’t refused to see his patient that day at the office, he’d have been on top of her issue, too.
He’d screwed up in both instances. And it hadn’t been him in the end who’d gotten hurt.
He headed for the kitchen, ready to get out of there. “I’ll be back later with an antibiotic cream. In the meantime, talk to your wife.”
Chapter Five
Maggie read over the page in her notepad and gave a final nod. Her birth plan was complete. At six weeks from delivery, naturally, she’d been thinking about it for some time. However, she’d never written the details down due to waiting to see if Cord would be around for the delivery. Not that his being there or not being there mattered as to how she wanted to deliver. She just hadn’t been able to fully picture the day until now. After last night, though, her picture was complete. She would deliver alone.
She would make all decisions alone.
She lay the pen she’d been using on top of the notepad and pushed up from the table. In six weeks, she’d deliver a beautiful, healthy baby boy at the Birch Bay hospital. She’d breastfeed him from the moment she was able. She’d welcome him into the world with love, lowered lights, and soft music—preferably without an epidural, though she did reserve the right to change her mind. And after she went home, she’d be the best mother she could possibly be.
Also, she’d make sure her brother upheld his promise to be the best uncle he could be. Because as the baby’s uncle, Mason would also be the main man in her son’s life.
She wrinkled her nose. All of that would be fine and dandy if she could honestly believe every word running through her mind. Rarely did things work out exactly as planned, though. Her growing belly was proof of that.
Turning from the table, she moved to the stove. She’d been up and out of the bedroom since Cord had walked away from the house several hours before. After locking herself away the previous night, she hadn’t wanted to come out today. She hadn’t wanted to look into Cord’s impassive face yet again. However, she’d also known that she couldn’t hide away forever. She’d been in the bathroom, trying to make herself look as if she hadn’t just slept in her clothes, when she’d first heard him leave through the front door.
Soon after, rhythmic scraping noises had come from outside, and she’d figured out that he’d been clearing the path to the truck again. He’d then come back in, a couple of thumps had sounded from the other room, and within seconds, the front door had opened and closed once more. Then all had gone quiet.
Maggie had remained in the middle of the small room, unmoving, straining to hear what he might do next. No sounds had come, but movement had finally caught her attention through the bedroom window. She’d crossed to watch until Cord disappeared from view. A lone, dark figure making its way through the unmarred and still-falling snow, and the sight had represented to her what she’d always known about the man himself.
He was a loner.
But he was also a caretaker.
He’d been making his way to his father’s house, she was certain, and after no longer being able to see him, she’d finally come out of the room. What had been waiting for her had squeezed at her heart.
“Breakfast” had been scrawled in heavy slanted letters on a yellow sticky note, with the note attached to a package of blueberry bagels. Another note had proclaimed �
�cream cheese” and had been stuck to the front of the refrigerator. The last message had still been attached to the square pad of paper the others had been ripped from, a permanent marker lying to one side of it and a charcoal-gray hoodie to the other. “In case you get cold,” it had said.
He’d left her breakfast and a sweatshirt.
He’d also left a fire roaring in the fireplace; thus, she hadn’t gotten cold. Nor did she think the hoodie would stretch around her oversized midsection.
But oh, she’d wanted to try it.
She’d wanted to snuggle deep into the soft cotton and breathe the darned man in. He smelled better than any person she’d ever met, and she’d lay money the smell was a natural scent and not something manufactured and sold at a markup.
She glanced at the sweatshirt again, still lying on top of the table untouched, and told herself not to be moved by the thoughtfulness. It didn’t change anything. Her son’s father still wanted nothing to do with him, and as soon as the tow truck driver delivered her car to the cabin, she’d be on her way and out of Cord’s life for good.
And if Cord didn’t return before her car got there?
Well, then she’d use one of his sticky notes to leave a summary of the decisions she’d made overnight.
One: she wouldn’t accept his five thousand dollars nor any other money at any other time.
Two: she wanted a legal document filed, stating that he wished to have no rights as a parent. This, she would let him pay for.
And three: he would lose her phone number, and she’d lose his. They would be done forever.
The decisions broke her heart for her son, but she could—and she would—give him a good life. She didn’t need Cord’s money to make that happen.
Footsteps sounded on the porch outside, but instead of allowing herself to glance in that direction, she lifted the lid off the pot of potato soup. When she’d called to see about getting her car towed to the cabin, she’d found out that it would be several hours before they could get to it. Unsurprisingly, she hadn’t been the only one having problems on the roads the night before. So, she’d decided to pass the time by cooking. She’d want to eat again soon anyway. Plus, uncomfortable discussions tended to go better with food, and if anything were true in the moment, it’s that any conversation she and Cord were to have would likely be uncomfortable.