by Shirley Wine
As if I could forget.
Was it only last night? Victoria felt as if she’d lived two lifetimes since then. ‘So?’
‘Did it escape your attention that Davina’s father owns Sundowner Press, publisher of The Clarion and The Sunday Insight?’
She stared at him and swallowed hard to dislodge the lump in her throat. ‘You think they could come after us?’
‘By this time tomorrow, you’ll be headline news, Victoria,’ he said, giving her a grim smile. ‘I can damn near guarantee it.’
It’ll be a hollow victory. Davina’s threat surfaced.
The lift pinged, the doors opening, and they stepped out into the corridor. The hospital cafe was directly ahead and Victoria preceded Keir through the swing doors.
It was well past the lunch rush and only a handful of people were in the cafe. Keir edged her towards the service counter.
‘I think we’re in the clear,’ he murmured above her head.
‘You think we could be ambushed?’
He gave her a droll look.
Victoria gave an edgy look around as they joined her father at the buffet. The savoury smells emanating from the kitchen made her stomach grumble.
‘What would you like?’ Keir took a tray as he scanned the menu board.
‘I’m not fussy.’ She pulled a wry face. ‘I’m starved.’
After considering their choices, they placed their orders.
‘Go find us a table outside on the terrace.’ Keir looked from her to Andrew. ‘I’ll get this.’
As she walked beside her father, Victoria was glad of these minutes alone with him. Was this Keir’s intention? They sat at a table sheltered from the brisk southerly that had blown up, and Victoria turned on her father. ‘You knew?’
She didn’t need to clarify the question.
Her father looked away, avoiding eye contact and obviously uncomfortable. ‘Look, it was a long time ago.’
‘That’s not going to cut it, and you know it. You flat out lied to me.’
He leaned closer, giving her a fulminating look. ‘Let’s get one thing straight: it wasn’t me who lied. The man didn’t give you his name, or you know darn well you would have found him long before now.’
Remembering her desperate search to find Seth Donahue, Victoria trembled.
And all the time my father knew.
‘I was the adult, Victoria.’
‘And I wasn’t?’
Her father fiddled with the serviette holder. ‘Had you taken my advice, this situation would never have arisen.’
She sucked a ragged breath, fighting down anger. ‘Connor is my child, Dad, and I was never going to give him away, so what’s the point of rehashing this old argument now? You told me you had no idea who Seth was, and now it’s blatantly obvious you did know. Uncle Tom, too?’
His ruddy flush confirmed her suspicion.
‘Who gave either of you the right to play God with my life, or my son’s life?’
‘That’s enough.’ Her father’s eyes blazed. ‘I investigated the man. His reputation even then was that of a hard bastard who cared little for anyone or anything. I figured that to a man of Donovan’s ilk, you were just a summer fling.’
Nausea churned in her stomach as she remembered just how often she’d harboured those same thoughts. ‘He wasn’t like that.’
‘Of course he wasn’t,’ he said, his voice laced with derision. ‘Donovan is a man like any other; he’d show a girl his sweet side when she’s putting it out.’
‘There’s no need to be crude,’ she muttered, hiding trembling lips behind a clenched fist as she went hot all over then icy cold.
Her father’s face went red and a vein bulged in his neck as he slammed a hand on the tabletop. ‘Face it, he left you. Skedaddled off to America and left you to raise his kid alone. If you think he would’ve changed his plans for you, you’re delusional.’ He looked past her towards the door leading into the cafe. ‘What the hell sort of trouble have you stirred up this weekend, Vic?’
‘Don’t call me that,’ she said bitterly. ‘And what makes you think I’ve caused trouble?’
Her father’s ruddy complexion deepened. He leaned across the table and gripped her hand so tightly she winced. ‘Maybe because that’s what you do.’
‘You’re the one who slugged Keir.’
‘I was entitled. That man ruined your life.’
‘Keir did not ruin my life. How can you say that?’
‘Time will tell. You’ve made your bed, girlie. I hope like hell you don’t find it too damn uncomfortable to sleep in.’ Her father glanced towards the door. ‘And here comes your next headache, so take a word of advice from your old man and drop this subject. Now.’
His words ratcheted up her anxiety another couple of notches and she was only too glad to obey. As Keir set the tray on the table, she was keenly aware of his shrewd glance flicking between her and her father.
If Victoria thought the wait during Connor’s surgery was unbearable, this vigil by her son’s bedside tested every ounce of her courage. Connor was so small, so helpless lying there, his stillness so alien. The white sheets washed out his normal robust colour, his lashes standing out as dark smudges on magnolia pale cheeks. His sculptured lips, miniature versions of his father’s, hung flaccid and loose. The white bandage covering the area they’d shaved for surgery contrasted starkly with his sable hair.
She stole a look at Keir’s impassive profile.
If you think he would’ve changed his plans for you, you’re delusional …
The doubts her father planted multiplied by the minute and she longed to know what Keir was thinking, as much as she feared knowing. What did he think about Connor, about her, about this whole damn situation? Trying to second-guess his thoughts was an exercise in futility.
You owe me an explanation. Keir’s threat hung over her head and she cursed her father’s interference all over again.
Through the long, wearying hours Keir barely spared her a glance, his attention solely centred on Connor’s still figure.
You’ve made your bed. The inherent threat in her father’s words multiplied.
With each passing hour she found it more difficult to remain hopeful. She stroked her boy’s limp hand, but his intelligent and often mischievous eyes remained closed. She was ready to succumb to despair and her heart was slowly breaking.
The doctors stressed the importance of talking to Connor. ‘Your familiar voice will pull him toward consciousness.’
At first Victoria was self-conscious but as the hours passed, one jumbled on top of the other, she forgot about Keir and her attention focused on her child. She talked about familiar routines, his friends, school, and trips to the beach and the zoo. She talked about horses, shopping, and his playroom, books and toys. Victoria talked until she was hoarse and her voice a mere husky rasp, but nothing was the elusive spark that jolted Connor back to consciousness.
Time became irrelevant. Nurses and doctors came and went, but Connor never roused, and her dread steadily grew. She knew that the longer he remained unresponsive, the greater the chance of an unfavourable outcome. The bleep of his heart monitor took on a life force of its own and threatened to drive her crazy.
‘Won’t he ever wake up?’ She glanced up at Keir, unable to conceal her despair.
‘You heard the doctor, Tori, it’s early days yet.’ He gripped her shoulder and leaned down to wipe away an errant tear.
‘I hate this.’ She scrubbed at her cheeks, too worried to be self-conscious.
‘Me too,’ he said on a soft sigh.
He stroked her head, and she found his hand’s betraying tremble strangely comforting. For all that he remained positive and tried to keep her spirits up, Victoria sensed Keir was as worried as she was.
‘Do you want me to take over for a while?’
‘It’s worth a try.’ She was prepared to try anything, anything at all if it would help rouse Connor and bring him back to consciousness. ‘Let me explain
who you are. Connor, Connor.’ She stroked her baby’s limp hand with trembling fingers as tears burned at the back of eyes gritty with fatigue. ‘Connor, you asked me to find your daddy, remember? I’ve found him for you, darling.’
And guess what, kiddo? He was hiding behind an alias. All this time I’ve been searching for the wrong man.
Bitterness was counterproductive. It would not help her little boy. With a superhuman effort, she forced the bitterness down before it could leach into her voice. ‘Your daddy’s here, Connor. Your daddy’s here and wants to talk to you.’
Victoria rose, relinquishing her seat beside Connor to Keir. Those pesky tears blurred her vision as Keir picked up Connor’s hand and held it. The contrast was startling. Connor’s hand was so very small and vulnerable in Keir’s much larger one. A lump of emotion caught at her throat.
Anger gained a stranglehold on her battered emotions, anger with her father and with Keir—Donovan money garners attention, and not in a good way.
That may be so, but each man in their own way had deceived her. They both had deprived Connor of his birthright, the right to know his father.
Keir spoke quietly but in the same authoritative tone he’d used when Victoria was about to refuse the sweet tea Logan had pressed on her. That tone had steadied her panic then, and now it brought reassurance.
Father and son.
So often she’d fantasised about Keir meeting his son, but never once had she imagined this scenario—a shared vigil over their unconscious child.
‘Victoria! He’s coming round!’ Keir’s imperative whisper made the breath catch in her throat.
She leaned over Keir’s shoulder, gripping it for support as, ever so slowly, Connor’s eyelids flickered. Once, twice and then they lifted and opened fully. His pupils were wide and unfocused but his eyes were open.
‘Mummy?’
It was the merest whisper, but joy and relief crowded Victoria.
‘I’m here, sweetheart.’ She leaned closer as recognition gradually animated his features.
Keir’s arm encircled her shoulders, his fingers digging into the tender flesh. His breath was a shaky rasp in her ear as he whispered, ‘Thank you, God.’
‘Mummy?’
‘I’m here, sweetheart. I’m here.’ She laid a gentle hand on Connor’s cheek and emotion swelled inside her until she thought she’d explode with the love she felt for this little boy. With a broken laugh she glanced up at Keir.
Tears glistened in his dark eyes, but it was the yearning in his smile that threatened to break her heart all over again.
Damn my father. How could he do this to Keir, or to me?
‘He’s going to be okay,’ she whispered, fighting the overwhelming impulse to scoop Connor close in her arms and protect him from further harm. ‘Our baby is going to be okay.’
Keir gripped her shoulder even tighter and merely nodded, and she had the distinct impression words were beyond him.
‘You found my daddy?’
Relief vented itself in a small unsteady laugh. ‘I did indeed, and he’s right here, Connor.’
Her little boy frowned as he looked past her to the silent man standing by her side. ‘Are you my daddy?’
‘Yes, Connor, I’m your daddy.’ Keir’s voice was clogged with emotion.
Tears of thankfulness burned behind her eyelids.
Connor was lucid and appeared undamaged, but it had been Keir’s voice that made Connor come back to them. Victoria didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. She stole a look at Keir and saw the emotion he couldn’t hide as his hand skimmed the boy’s sable hair.
‘You won’t get lost again?’
‘No, I won’t get lost, I promise.’
Something in Keir’s voice reassured Connor, and his eyelids began to drift closed.
The doctor monitoring him gave a satisfied smile.
Victoria was so focused on Connor that the doctor’s presence had barely registered. Now, she watched intently as he shone a light in Connor’s eyes, tested his responses and took his blood pressure before he listened to Connor’s heartbeat. A nurse moved to his side and handed him a syringe, and the doctor inserted its contents into Connor’s drip-feed.
As Victoria watched, Connor’s eyelids flickered and then closed, forming dark crescents on his pale cheeks.
‘He’ll do, Ms Scanlan, he’s sleeping now.’ The doctor folded his stethoscope, tucking it in his lab coat pocket before subjecting her and Keir to a thoughtful glance. ‘Give him a few days and you’ll be pulling your hair out trying to keep him quiet.’
With a shaky laugh Victoria surreptitiously swiped at wayward tears. ‘Anything would be better than seeing him like this.’
‘I’ve given Connor a sedative that will ensure he sleeps for hours. He needs rest but so do you.’ The doctor watched her from beneath bushy brows.
‘I can’t leave him.’ The thought of leaving her son so soon terrified her. ‘What if something goes wrong?’
‘Rest assured we’ll keep a close eye on him.’
‘You need rest too, Victoria.’ Keir’s no-nonsense voice mingled with the doctor’s.
‘Are you sure?’ She looked from Connor to Keir, gnawing on her lower lip.
‘You don’t have to do it all on your own any longer, Victoria.’ Keir stood up and put an arm around her shoulders. ‘Let me take you home and you can get some rest, too.’
As much as she wanted to resist, she felt her strength ebb as tiredness overwhelmed her, and she leaned unashamedly on Keir’s arm.
‘Do you want a sedative for her?’ The doctor exchanged glances with Keir.
Victoria murmured in protest but Keir overrode her. ‘I think that’s an excellent idea.’
The doctor left the room and returned a few minutes later with an envelope that he gave to Keir, who slipped it in an inside pocket of his jacket. He handed the doctor a card. ‘These are my phone numbers. If you need to contact Connor’s mother, she will be with me.’
Startled, Victoria looked from Keir to the doctor and saw the man’s soundless whistle.
‘Of course, Mr Donovan.’
Victoria watched them, struggling with resentment at Keir’s high-handed, take-charge manner.
Be honest. I’d have fallen apart without him to lean on.
Sometime during that long vigil, they’d drawn closer.
Night had come and gone and now the day was well advanced towards a second night. Keir’s hand was warm under her elbow as he guided her to the lifts. Something in his watchful demeanour made her wary, but he remained silent until they were alone and the lift door shut, enclosing them in privacy.
‘Dad warned me, Victoria. The press is baying for blood.’ Keir faced her squarely as they descended from the ICU. ‘While we’re in the hospital we’re okay, but we’re likely to be pursued once we’re outside.’
Victoria nodded but was too tired to do more.
‘Dad’s posted security guards at every entrance to Darkhaven.’
Victoria reeled. He’d warned her, but she’d been sceptical. Now, her first instinct was to flee, but the strong hand under her arm precluded her taking that approach.
‘What about Connor?’ Fear for her son made her voice tremble.
‘I’ve placed an embargo on any information regarding him being given out to anyone except you and me, and then only in person. As soon as he’s ready to be shifted out of ICU I’ll arrange around-the-clock security for him.’
‘You think that’s necessary?’
‘Connor is my son.’
The unequivocal statement jerked her back to reality.
Her heart seemed to stop and then race. She gave him a quick, despairing glance. The colourful bruise on his jaw, the dark stubble and dishevelled appearance gave him a dangerous, rakish air.
‘I’ve never said otherwise.’ Victoria was glad there were no mirrors, knowing she probably appeared just as worse for wear.
The look he gave her scorched her clear through to her soul. ‘More�
��s the pity that you didn’t think of telling me sooner and maybe I could have prevented this, or at least mitigated the worst of this.’
This was a bunch of reporters, cameras at the ready, huddled outside the Haigh Street entrance. Security staff stood between them and the hospital entrance, vetting everyone who passed through the doors.
Victoria sucked in a shaken breath, and Keir gripped her arm tightly and swore under his breath as any hope that he may have exaggerated, vanished.
‘Whatever you do, don’t acknowledge you’ve heard any questions,’ he said tersely, ‘and don’t say a word.’
The caution was unnecessary.
They exited the main doors, and Victoria was glad of his reassuring bulk as they were rapidly hemmed in on all sides. Camera flashes hurt her tired eyes. Keir guided her towards the waiting car, ignoring the strident voices bombarding them with questions.
He opened the rear door of a sleek black car, pushed her inside, clambered in behind her and slammed the door, the tinted glass affording them some privacy.
‘Do I have to face that every time I want to visit Connor?’ she asked after she’d caught her breath.
‘No. I’ll make arrangements to ensure you can come and go in privacy.’
She nodded and slumped back against the luxurious upholstery, closing her eyes and willing the world to go away.
I hope you can cope with the consequences. Caine’s warning now made sense. Her impulsive actions had precipitated a crisis that had engulfed the entire Donovan family.
When their car finally stopped, Victoria opened her eyes, staring in stunned amazement as she surveyed an impressive mansion.
‘Welcome to Dunstan.’ Keir answered her unspoken question, his expression impassive.
‘Why am I here? I thought you were taking me home?’
‘Did you imagine you’d be safe there?’
She stared at him, appalled. ‘The press—’
‘—are swarming around your apartment like flies around a honey jar.’
She swallowed hard, but the lump in her throat refused to budge. ‘Connor?’
‘Is not safe there and neither are you.’ The edge to Keir’s smile made her nervous. ‘You can now consider Dunstan home.’