A Bride Worth Fighting For
Page 2
Propped against the pillows, she looked so fragile, pale, and exhausted, he refused to force her to relive the trauma of the accident, even as it played in an endless, nightmarish loop in his head. She’d be better off never remembering.
“Tucker, can I speak to you alone for a moment?” Darlene tipped her head toward the doorway.
He didn’t want to leave Gwen’s side. Darlene couldn’t manipulate him to do her bidding the way she had his father and brother, although God knew she’d tried. But after spending the past month in the hospital to monitor and minimize whatever hold she had over Gwen, he’d take any action necessary to get her poison out of the room.
Avoiding the IV-insertion area, he squeezed Gwen’s hand. “I’ll be right back.”
She didn’t reply, but her gaze followed him, making his shoulders itch, as he ushered Darlene from the room. He could only imagine Gwen’s speculation and confusion as she tried to come to grips with learning he was her fiancé. He should have denied it the moment the words came out of his stepmother’s mouth. He had no explanation for why he hadn’t.
He closed the door behind him then glared at the woman who’d manipulated everyone he’d ever cared about. “Why did you tell her I was her fiancé?”
“We’re not supposed to say anything to upset her, so I couldn’t very well mention John,” Darlene shot back with an innocence that had never fooled him.
“You didn’t have to lie to her. Why lead her to believe she’s engaged at all?” The panic on Gwen’s face when Darlene introduced him sickened him.
“I’m protecting her, and I’m not losing her as a daughter-in-law.”
As if any woman Tucker brought into his life would consider Darlene to be true family. But at least he’d moved a step closer to an acknowledgement of whatever self-serving purpose Gwen’s connection gave her.
“Besides, John will come to his senses. The allure of working as a car salesman will wear off fast, especially when he finds himself downsized.”
How could she convince an independent business to fire his brother? He didn’t know, but he didn’t question it either. She’d been able to convince a judge of his father’s mental competence and the hospital staff that John was a threat to Gwen’s health and shouldn’t be allowed in her room.
When John returned, Darlene would likely insist Gwen had been confused if she thought she’d heard Tucker’s name when she awoke in the hospital. She’d probably even accuse her of being disloyal to John.
The lost, vulnerable look in Gwen’s eyes as she watched him leave the room had sealed his fate. With her mother deceased, her father not part of her life, and her ditzy maid of honor moving across the country, she needed someone she could depend on while she healed.
As far as he could tell, she had no one else, and he couldn’t leave her in Darlene’s hands. Regardless of Gwen’s motives before the accident, for the past month she’d been nothing but an innocent victim. He had a chance to influence her before she remembered her willingness to make a deal with Darlene. Even if he couldn’t change her mind, he had a better chance of figuring out what she was up to by sticking close to her.
Being engaged was pretty darn close.
***
Having fulfilled her token appearance to remind everyone that, as Gwen’s self-appointed next of kin, she was in charge, Darlene left. The approach had served her well after his father’s stroke, but she’d had the advantage of being Dad’s wife. Claiming the title of fiancé could work to Tucker’s advantage, though he had no intention of pointing it out.
After waiting to make sure she wouldn’t return, he opened the door and stepped into Gwen’s room. The bruises and gash had healed until only a small scar marred the center of her forehead. With her eyes closed, she appeared innocent and peaceful, and he longed to preserve that image for both their sakes.
Letting her sleep, he meandered around the bed and stared out the window at the darkening sky. He preferred to be honest and straightforward in his dealings with people. After watching Darlene suck the will to live from his father, he hated games and underhanded tricks. Yet he’d jumped into her game today without learning the rules or how to win.
He could stop the game by refusing to play. He’d provide emotional support and companionship while Gwen remained in the hospital. As soon as she became mentally stronger, he’d tell her the truth. He wouldn’t let either of them be manipulated by Darlene’s scheme.
A doctor tapped on the door and strode in. Tucker turned from the window as Gwen stirred on the bed.
“Ms. Fairfax, I’m so glad to see you’re awake. How are you feeling?”
“Headache,” she murmured. Skimming her hand over her forehead, she flinched.
“Those may stick around for weeks, months, or perhaps years.” He brushed off the complaint.
“Years?” Horror filled both her voice and her expression. “My head hurts so much, I can’t think.”
“Don’t try then.” The man shrugged. “You don’t want to overdo it.”
“You want me to be a vegetable?”
“Considering the amount of swelling and contusions in the brain, we expected you to stay in a permanent-vegetative state. You should be grateful you’ve recovered so much brain function.”
Despite having lived through the days of dire predictions followed by the weeks of increasing but cautious hope, Tucker flinched at the doctor’s harsh bedside manner.
“But I can’t remember the past ten months at all.” She glanced at him and then quickly looked away.
She couldn’t remember him. She couldn’t remember John. Even though he’d promised to help her, he no longer knew if he wanted her to recall the truth.
“We’ll keep you here for another day or two for observation,” the doctor said. “After that, you can continue resting and relaxing at home. Your future mother-in-law has made arrangements for you to go home with her after you’re released.”
So Darlene’s plan was to get Gwen inside her home and under her complete control. No way would he let Gwen end up like his father. “She’s been in a coma for a month. You can’t consider sending her home yet.”
“Insurance regulations.” The doctor shrugged again, as if actual medical care took a backseat.
“When can I go back to work?” Gwen turned to Tucker, her green eyes filling with panic. This time she held his gaze. “Do I have a job? Do I have a home? Why can’t I remember these things?”
She didn’t need a fiancé. She needed a friend. If Darlene hadn’t opened her mouth, he might have been able to offer his support instead of adding to her distress and confusion. If he told her the truth now, she wouldn’t trust him, and she’d push him away, leaving her with no one to help her make sense of her life or keep his stepmother from taking advantage of her.
He strode to the bed and took her icy hand in his. “Don’t worry. I’m staying by your side, and we’ll figure things out as we go.”
“Thank you.” She hung on to him so tightly he felt like a fraud.
“A discharge liaison will come in tomorrow to talk to you about what you can expect when you go home,” the doctor continued.
“What if she chooses not to stay with Darlene?” Tucker asked. That scenario would only happen over his dead body.
“I can’t sign off on you staying alone for the first week, Gwen, but if you have a competent adult for support, I have no interest in who the person is, as long as you’re comfortable with the choice. You can talk this out with the liaison tomorrow.”
Tucker gritted his teeth. If only he could rip her out of the hospital and take her someplace where the people caring for her actually cared about healing her.
The doctor picked up a clipboard at the end of the bed and frowned. “Apparently, someone already researched alternate arrangements for you.” He pulled a brochure from under the metal clip.
Releasing Tucker’s hand, Gwen took the glossy paper, squinting at it. “The Wiccan Haus. What kind of p
lace is it?”
“I’ve never heard of it, so I can’t offer insight. But our liaisons have excellent resources for post-hospital recovery options. Consider it, especially if you don’t want to move in with your mother-in-law.” The doctor headed out of the room.
Tucker bit back the instinct to correct Darlene’s title. She had never been a mother to him or John. She’d seen his father for the lonely widower he’d been and taken advantage of him from the beginning. He would not let Gwen be taken advantage of, too.
She turned to him. “Have you heard of this place?”
He shook his head, focusing on her brochure. “What is the Wiccan Haus?”
“A resort and spa.” A small smile touched her lips as she read. “Who wouldn’t want to hang out at a resort for a while?”
“Someone who cares about the natural environment that the resort owners destroyed in order to make boatloads of money off tourists.”
The hope in her eyes wilted along with her smile.
Shit. First thing after she awoke from a month-long coma, he slapped her down. Considering she had no memory, he couldn’t hold her responsible for setting off his hot-button issue. Memory lapses or not, most of the public was unaware of the destruction and disruption a high-traffic resort brought to fragile natural landscapes.
He leaned closer to read the accommodation’s tagline. “‘A place of spiritual and emotional healing.’” That type of healing struck him as more suited to a shrink’s office or a religious organization. Resorts tended to tout opportunities to relax and unwind.
He opened the paper and skimmed the details. “This place is off the coast of Maine. One ferryboat of only twelve guests arrives each week. Stays are booked by the week.”
Not thousands of guests pouring through as he’d assumed, keeping the human footprint at a manageable level. If she went there, she’d be away from Darlene for an entire week.
“No electronics,” he read. An asterisk at the bottom mentioned limited access to a computer and a phone at the main desk. Darlene wouldn’t be able to barrage her with texts, e-mails, and phone calls.
Excitement stirred in his gut. If this place had any vacancies, Gwen could have a week to get her memory back without anyone trying to manipulate her. No other establishment he could think of would give her even a day before Darlene started interfering.
Of course, he had to research the medical facilities available first. He wouldn’t strand her in a place lacking the capability to get her immediate medical care if she showed any signs of relapse or if her headaches raised the concern of a stroke or any other symptom requiring serious intervention.
Gwen traced her fingertips over the back of his hand, making his skin tingle with awareness. “Will you stay with me? If we spend the week together, I’ll surely remember you.”
No. She’d been his brother’s fiancée. He couldn’t go on a trip with her, no matter how platonic his intentions. Besides, he had to stay here to ensure Darlene’s power-hungry plans didn’t destroy the small remaining habitats of natural prairie plants.
On the other hand, she was so vulnerable and fragile he could hardly send her off on her own. She needed someone who would protect her. He could use the alone time to figure out how she fit into Darlene’s land-development plans. A month of hanging out at the hospital hadn’t yielded answers, and John hadn’t been able to lend any insight either.
He also couldn’t dismiss the promise he’d made as Gwen lay bleeding and unconscious on the road. I’ll stay with you while you heal, but you have to stay with me now.
“Of course, I’ll stay with you.” He flipped his hand over to clasp her palm. “After all, I’m your fiancé.”
***
“Tucker. Wait.”
He tossed his suitcase in the back of his Jeep hybrid and slammed the door before squinting into the rising sun at his brother jogging toward him from across the street.
“I need you to help me talk to Gwen.”
Anger and resentment burned in his gut. From the moment Tucker had realized Gwen’s dress was caught in the car door, he’d stopped helping his little brother and focused his efforts on helping her. She needed him, while John had thrown away their relationship, nearly killing her in the process. “You wouldn’t need my help if you’d tried talking to her before you ran out in the middle of your wedding.”
“Yes, I should have talked first. But I never meant to hurt her. I panicked, trying to get away, and I had no idea her dress was caught. I stopped the second I realized it.”
“The police questioned me twice, trying to determine if you deliberately caused her head injuries by opening the door.” He didn’t believe his sibling had attempted murder, but, regardless, Gwen’s near-death experience could have been avoided. His life had been turned upside down, but those disruptions and changes still didn’t come close to matching the pain she continued to endure.
John flinched. “It was an accident, one I feel horribly guilty for. Worse, I can’t even apologize because I’ve been barred from visiting her so I don’t cause her more trauma.”
“When you get the chance to apologize, are you going to ask her to take you back?” Tucker’s stomach knotted. He should step aside and send John to the Wiccan Haus with Gwen. Even if they hadn’t loved each other, they’d had a real relationship. If John’s presence would be more instrumental in her healing, he needed to be with her, no matter how protective and personally involved Tucker had become since shouldering the “fiancé” label.
“No, the wedding is off for good,” John said. “But I wanted to talk to her about what business deal she’d hoped to accomplish by marrying me, so we could both salvage some success.”
Those details interested Tucker, too. Mostly, he wanted insight into whether he could trust either John or Gwen. “She didn’t tell you before the wedding what she was getting out of the marriage?”
“I didn’t ask.”
Either his brother was lying or Tucker had already established a better line of communication and trust with Gwen than John had ever had. He would risk everything by sending his brother away with her and would have no way to influence the outcome. “How do you expect her to tell you now? Number one, you violated her trust by skipping out, and number two, she doesn’t remember.”
“I’d hoped that once she saw me, she would remember. Before Darlene got me fired, I sold one car—to a lawyer, who says she can help me claim the CEO position I was promised.”
If only a strong leader would take over the company and return it to the dual progress and preservation purposes their father had operated under. But Tucker’s cynicism ran too deep for him to believe that leader could be his brother. John had a knack for being taken in by scams and empty promises. “If you get the job, will you be following Darlene’s agenda or working against her?”
“I’ll be working in the best interests of Wilde Land Development.”
For too long, those interests had directly opposed Tucker’s goals to protect the environment. He was better off operating under the assumption John and Gwen were just as conniving and coldhearted as Darlene. No way would he help any of them with their strategy until he knew exactly what they were up to.
A car veered into the driveway and slammed to a stop. “Oh, thank goodness you haven’t left yet.” Shooting John a suspicious glance, Tucker’s assistant jumped from the vehicle and pressed an envelope into his hands. “I spent all day yesterday researching at the courthouse. Read this as soon as you’re alone.”
“Thanks.” Tucker stuck the packet in a pocket of his notebook as his colleague dashed back to his car and peeled away.
“Anything I should know about?” John asked, his gaze tracking the envelope.
“Nope, I don’t think so.” Despite his own curiosity about the information his assistant had uncovered, he slapped the notebook shut.
“I’m on your side. I’m not plotting to take the company back from Darlene just so I can be her puppet.”
<
br /> “I hope not,” Tucker said. “I need to go. Gwen and I have a plane to catch.” He wished he could trust his brother, but, with eight years between their ages, they’d never been particularly close, and John had been Darlene’s pawn too many times over the past decade.
“One more question. How long have you had feelings for Gwen?” John asked.
“I don’t have feelings for her, not the way you’re thinking.” Although he certainly was concerned about the threat she posed to the environmental areas he’d dedicated his life to protecting. The tingling of his skin whenever she touched him was irrelevant. “This trip has nothing to do with romance. She’s a very sick woman who needs more care than she’ll get recuperating on her own.”
“You’re right about how injured and vulnerable she is,” John said. “I hope you manage to remember it before you seduce her. One guilt-ridden Wilde brother is enough.”
Chapter Three
Gwen sat in a warm, enclosed seating area on the ferryboat, while the other guests hung out on deck, half-enshrouded in a thick mist, the wind whipping their hair.
Tucker stood among them. As much as she’d come to depend on him over the past couple of days, she was relieved to have him more than an arm’s length away, his attention elsewhere. Since she’d awoken in the hospital, he’d been at her side nearly every moment—always solicitous, generous, and kind.
He was the perfect fiancé. And she had no memory of him. Nothing.
Oh, she understood how she’d been attracted to him. Tall, broad shouldered, wearing a motorcycle jacket open over a blue T-shirt and jeans, he looked as at home standing on the deck of the boat as he had reading a book at her bedside or driving a Jeep to the airport and then a rental car to the dock. His blond hair blew across his forehead in the wind, covering his ears in a style just long enough to be rebellious.
The beard stubble across his face, a shade darker than his hair, added to his air of danger and mystery. Her stomach dipped whenever she considered what sort of dangerous things he might want to do with her, making her half-afraid, half-hopeful an infatuation had started blossoming again.