by Robyn Grady
“I’m sure he’s not,” Teagan assured Sebastian. “You’re family.”
Sebastian’s look said, That means a lot. Then he caught sight of Guthrie. “I should go say hi. That Vennard dude’s full-on. I feel like the Bolsheviks have their sabers drawn and are marching our way.”
When her cousin left, Teagan turned to Jacob. Determined to push those other issues from her mind and enjoy the evening, she ran a fingertip down his black satin lapel. “Are you enjoying yourself?”
His slow, sexy grin drew her in. “There’s a dance floor, Tea. And I’m pretty sure they’re playing our song.”
She laughed. Another cliché. But she really liked the sound of this one.
“I’m in the mood if you are.”
“Where you’re concerned,” he said, “I’m always in the mood.”
He was leaning in for a kiss when somewhere behind them an almighty roar went up. Jacob spun around, automatically corralling Teagan behind him, protecting her, while her stomach pitched with panic. All she could think was, Not again! and, Tate!
But there was no explosion. No flames. No disaster. The roar was the room welcoming newly arrived guests—her brother Dex and his gorgeous fiancée, Shelby.
Releasing that breath, Teagan grabbed Jacob’s hand and pulled him over.
“Time to meet more Hunters!”
* * *
“What a relief.”
From the dance floor, Teagan was watching the last of the guests bid farewell to Grace and Wynn. The lighting was still subdued, the security detail still on duty, but staff were beginning to clear the tables in earnest now. Decorations were coming down.
Jacob pulled her a bit closer as he asked, “What’s a relief?”
“That nothing went wrong.”
Her hands trailed across his shoulders and then down until they rested on his shirtfront. Jacob could barely contain the lucky me groan. He’d had a nice night, but man, he couldn’t wait to move on to the next phase of this evening, which involved him and Teagan being completely alone.
“I can say it aloud now. All night, I kept remembering our last Hunter wedding celebration. But, yay.” She glanced around again. “No bomb.”
“And no Bolshevik revolution.”
As her arms curled higher around his neck and she rested her cheek against his shoulder, Jacob recognized something different going on in his brain. It had to do with being this close, the building heat, looking ahead.
Admitting how he felt.
From the get-go, he’d known Teagan was unique—different from any woman he had ever known...even if there were some similarities where Ivy Schluter was concerned. Both Teagan and his ex came from excessive wealth. They were both beauties with trim builds and confident in every way. Come to think of it, they both had green eyes, too.
As his palm rode up and down Teagan’s back and he breathed in that signature vanilla scent, Jacob imagined how much calmer he would feel about the baby situation with Ivy if he could swap one woman out for the other. That sounded like he was objectifying them. Like he was sexist. That wasn’t it at all. It came down to preferring that Teagan be the mother of his child.
That wasn’t wrong. That was fact.
Of course, the paternity test could come back negative, in which case those kinds of comparisons would be meaningless. But if the baby did turn out to be his, nurturing the bond between father and son would take priority over everything else. He would be two hundred percent committed to being the best dad he possibly could be. That kind of commitment took not only time, but also a truckload of energy.
How would Teagan feel about that?
Perhaps the bigger question was, how did Teagan feel about having kids?
Jacob stilled and his ears pricked up. Someone was calling his and Teagan’s names.
The Hunters and a couple of stragglers had congregated around a round table by the mock canal. Standing to one side, Wynn was holding Tate, who was slung against his chest and shoulder, sound asleep. As he and Teagan joined them, Jacob shored up his smile. When Dex and his fiancée had arrived earlier, he’d enjoyed a brief conversation with the middle Hunter brother. Dex reminded Jacob of Ajax—the cool chick-magnet dude with the dynamite smile. The guy no one could say no to. His soon to be wife, Shelby, was a self-assured redhead with an Okie twang and a brand of charm that was sincere and modest. They both made him feel welcome.
As Jacob and Teagan took a seat, Dex looped an arm around the back of Shelby’s chair and made an announcement.
“Shelby and I have something to share.” Dex looked into his fiancée’s smiling eyes. “Time to come clean.”
Shelby told the table, “We’ve set a date for the big day!”
While Guthrie puffed out his chest, Taryn let out a whoop, and Grace got up to fling her arms around the latest Hunter bride-to-be. And Teagan? Was it imagination or did her response sound forced? Jacob thought she looked happy for her brother and Shelby. Her restraint wasn’t due to envy. It felt way more personal than that.
As the congratulations kept coming, Teagan slid a look his way. Jacob thought she might be thinking about their future, too. Could she be wondering whether he and Ivy might “do the right thing” and tie the knot for the baby’s sake? If the baby was his. He just couldn’t see it.
Guthrie spoke up. “I feel more future granddad vibes heading my way.”
“Yeah, we want kids.” Grinning from ear to ear, Dex stole a kiss from his future bride. “Why waste my darling’s special talents?”
Shelby explained for those who didn’t know. “I worked with children back home in Mountain Ridge, and I was Tate’s nanny while he stayed with Dex in LA.” She studied Tate, who was still pushing out z’s. “I can’t wait to be a mom.” She sent a wink Taryn’s way. “Can’t wait to be an auntie, too.”
“I have an adorable niece,” Grace said. “Tate met her on Christmas Day...the day Wynn proposed.”
“Best day of my life,” Wynn said.
Grace sighed. “The older you get, the more you realize children are what makes it all worthwhile. They’re what’s most important.” She looked at Jacob. “Do you have any nieces or nephews, Jacob?”
“My brothers are nowhere near settling down. My sister...” He thought back. “I can’t remember if she’s ever had a boyfriend. I mean, I’m pretty sure she likes boys.”
Teagan gave him a dry look. “Lanie definitely likes boys.”
After meeting his sister once, how could Teagan be so sure? Not that it mattered. He loved his sister. He loved all his family, like Teagan so clearly loved hers.
The Vennard dude was sitting at the table, too. Waving that unlit pipe around his head, he put in his two intellectual, and disconnected, cents’ worth now.
“The children of future generations are in dire straits. Goliath corporations have taken over, debasing the working wage, destroying the environment, wiping out the future for those who breathe the fetid air of the decadently privileged.” He pointed the pipe Jacob’s way. “The gap between the elite and lower classes is fast evaporating. Soon the homeless will multiply to staggering levels in countries that once bragged about high standards of living.”
Everyone was looking either down or away. Great that this man had a passion but, sorry, this was not the place to express it. He was completely over-the-top and out-of-bounds. Still, Jacob had a question. He was living on Easy Street now, but he could never forget the lack of food and opportunity growing up. So many kids were in that same boat today.
“If you were in charge, Professor Vennard, what would be your first command? How would you begin to turn it all around?”
Jacob didn’t miss Guthrie’s grunt of disapproval. Hunter Enterprises was one of those evil Goliath corporations Vennard was ranting about. The family had accrued a massive fortune and, Jacob was sure, saw no reason for change. And the other Hunter men? Col
e, Wynn and Dex were looking straight at Jacob as if to ask, Whose side are you on, Stone?
“The first thing?” Vennard’s eyes gleamed. “I would reclaim all the wealth, those bulging bank accounts, the hoarded property.”
Jacob was listening. “How would you do that?”
Vennard gripped his pipe tighter. “Let’s assume we had a favorable change of government. The transfer could be achieved quite peacefully.”
Cole scratched his ear. “If you’re talking about a revolution, they’re rarely peaceful.”
“Let there be violence then!” Vennard’s face was suddenly red. His gaze was burning. “Armies are growing in strength as we speak, waiting in the wings, becoming bolder and smarter, beginning at last to fight back. And, by God, we will win.”
Jacob had a clear view of the entire room, including the main entrance. Brandon Powell had stood there surveying the area as guests filed out. Now he moved closer, sending eye signals to his men.
As Jacob had told Teagan, he didn’t deal in criminal law, but he had friends who did. Most murders were committed not by strangers but by people known to the deceased. Powell’s guys had been thorough when searching guests entering this room. Vennard wasn’t armed as such. But his walking stick, Jacob knew, could cause some damage if it came down with enough force. Individuals could die from a sharp object—like a pipe—rammed through an eye socket or throat.
“The elite have used violence in all its forms throughout history,” Vennard went on. “They will use any means available to subdue what they term ‘the mob.’” When Sebastian cleared his throat, uncomfortable, Vennard spoke directly to him. “You know there are people who don’t play by the rules. Who are determined to seize power and shut others out.”
When Sebastian looked to his cousins around the table for help, Cole spoke up again.
“If you’re referring to Hunter Enterprises, Professor, we’re all about being fair, offering opportunities. You’ve worked there a few months now, Sebastian. Tell the professor your experience.”
Sebastian’s mouth tightened as he shrugged. “It’s a great place to work.”
Vennard placed his cane on the table as he sat forward. “This boy is reluctant to share his true feelings.” With a caring note in his voice now, he addressed Sebastian again. “Decades ago, your father was squeezed out of the Hunter company, wasn’t he, son? You should have been perched at the top of the tree now. Instead you are begging for crumbs.”
Guthrie intervened. “That’s enough, Milo.”
Quite enough. Jacob had no objections to people holding fast to their beliefs—philosophical, personal, whatever. He even agreed with some aspects of Vennard’s argument. These days the imbalance between haves and have-nots was staggering. But Jacob was only thinking about Guthrie’s safety now.
Vennard’s grip on his cane tightened even as he cajoled. Looking at Sebastian, he said, “Let the boy answer.”
Sebastian cleared his throat again. “From what I know,” he began, “you’re right. My father was squeezed out in those early years.”
Cole coughed out a humorless laugh. “That’s not true. They couldn’t agree on—”
“Oh, c’mon. It is true. My father still feels betrayed.” Sebastian’s chin wrenched higher. “And, frankly, I don’t blame him. I’d be spitting mad, too.”
Jacob was concentrating on Brandon now. He was closing the distance, looking to Cole for a sign to intervene. The situation was going downhill fast.
“It must be hard working alongside me then,” Cole replied.
Sebastian’s smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I have great faith it will all even out in the end.”
Shooting to his feet, Vennard cried out, “Equality! Liberty!” He swung the cane above his head. “Fraternity against tyranny!”
Cole and Jacob leaped up at the same time Brandon swept in, other guards close behind. As they wrestled with the man, Guthrie, dazed and hurt, stared up at his old friend.
Vennard was struggling, cursing at the brothers. “Get your Fascist hands off me! You can’t hold us back.”
Tate was stirring awake. While Wynn hurried him away from the commotion, a weary Guthrie made it to his feet.
“Milo...my friend...you’re not in your right mind.”
“What is genuine is proved in the fire.” Vennard’s eyes filled with frenzied tears. “We have nothing to lose but our chains.”
As Milo Vennard was ushered away, Guthrie muttered to himself again. “He’s not well...not well.”
Cole sliced a hand through the air. “You can’t have that man around anymore. That’s the end of it.”
“Of course,” Guthrie grumbled. “I just wonder...”
“Whether he’s been behind the threats on your life?” Dex’s eyes narrowed. “He was at the wedding. He mentioned an army waiting in the wings. Does he have connections that are capable of pulling off an explosion?”
“That very first incident, when I was run off the road... I had just spoken to Milo.” Guthrie shuddered. “God save us all from fanatics.”
Jacob made a point. “The victors in history decide who the fanatics are.”
Dex laughed. “You agree with Vennard’s ranting?”
Jacob thought about his abject poverty growing up. “I think it’s fair to say that I have more experience with Vennard’s ideas about injustice than you ever could.”
Jacob was aware of Teagan sitting beside him, stiff. He moved to take her hand under the table. As soon as their fingers touched, she pulled away.
Sebastian nodded to those at the table. “I’m calling it a night.” He pasted on a smile for Grace’s sake. “Again, congratulations to you both.”
When Sebastian was gone, those left shared a look.
Dex kicked the conversation off. “Sebastian’s take on our families’ history was an eye-opener.”
Guthrie’s shoulders slumped further. “I had no idea he was so resentful.”
Cole was standing behind his father’s chair. “Sebastian appeared on the scene after the attacks began, Dad.”
“He was there at your wedding, Cole,” Dex added. “And he jumped at the chance to work at Hunter Broadcasting. He’s inside now.”
Cole speculated. “Keeping his enemy closer?”
Teagan repeated Sebastian’s comment. “It will all even out in the end.”
Someone’s phone was beeping. When Guthrie pulled out his cell, Cole groaned. “Whoever that is can wait.”
But Guthrie was already studying the screen.
“It’s Eloise,” he said and connected.
Jacob didn’t think Guthrie’s face could get any paler. By the time he disconnected, the older man was visibly shaken. He looked at each of his children and ground out the latest news.
“We need to go. That was Eloise’s new beau. She’s in hospital. Honey’s there, too.”
Sixteen
When the Hunters arrived at North Sydney General Hospital, Eloise’s lover was waiting. The tall, well-built tank of a man stood by the visitor lounge windows, his hands stuffed into his jeans’ pockets as he gazed out at the twinkling city skyline.
Earlier, Kyle Scafe had called on Eloise’s phone to inform Guthrie that his estranged wife had suffered head injuries. Apparently, someone from child protection services had taken Honey away.
As they’d rushed from Wynn and Grace’s party, Cole had wasted no time contacting the hospital. No one could say whether Honey had been injured, too.
While Taryn, Shelby and Grace had taken Tate home, the rest of the family had piled into Cole’s vehicle. Now, like everyone else, Teagan had questions for Kyle Scafe. How had Eloise hit her head? Where was Honey when it happened? Where precisely was the baby now?
Kyle heard them enter the lounge. He edged around, took his hands from his pockets and greeted them with a thousand-yard stare.
Teagan had assumed he would be agitated. He only looked detached.
“I’m sorry to meet you under these circumstances,” he said as though reciting a line from a play.
Cole, Dex and Wynn stood beside their father while Guthrie stepped forward and demanded, “Is my daughter still on the premises?”
Kyle Scafe’s broad brow wrinkled like he was trying to think. “I have no idea.”
“I’ll go find some answers,” Dex told his brothers.
He was about to head off when a doctor joined them. “Who do I speak with about Eloise Hunter?” she asked.
Guthrie straightened. “I’m her husband.”
The doctor lowered her folder. “When your wife was brought in, she was under the influence of alcohol. Mrs. Hunter suffered a blow to the head. No fractures, but abrasions and bruising. I’ve ordered an MRI to check for bleeding on the brain.”
Guthrie was nodding. “And my daughter? The baby?”
Kyle moved closer. “I was with Eloise when it happened. When we got here, Honey was taken away.”
The doctor looked between the two men. “I’m sure CPS have questions for you both. I’ll let the representative know you’re here.” She spoke to Guthrie. “You can see your wife now. She’s awake.”
Guthrie exhaled. “Thank you.”
As they all moved forward, the doctor held up a hand. “Only Mr. Hunter at this time.”
As Guthrie followed the doctor down the hall, Teagan felt the atmosphere in the waiting lounge turn from strained to verging on lethal. No one took a seat while a dazed Kyle ran a hand through his dirty-blond hair.
“Eloise obviously has a problem,” he said.
Cole folded his arms. “At least one.”
“I’ve seen her drink before, but never around the kids.” Kyle’s unshaven jaw clenched as his walnut-size Adam’s apple bobbed up and down. “I hadn’t realized that she’d downed almost the entire bottle of gin. The last time she came back from the bathroom, she was swaying.”