“Miss Quinn, why don’t you get your notes on your patient and let’s look at them.”
Chelsea nodded. “They’re in my room. I’ll be right back. C’mon, Lucas.”
“He’s fine right here,” Russell offered, again, not sure why, but there was great pleasure in having him there.
Chelsea nodded and left the room.
“He’s not bothering you during your rehabilitation is he?” Karen asked as Lucas walked to the window and looked outside.
“No. He seems to be equally as good a nurse as his mother is,” he said.
“Sometimes children are the best medicine. You need to let her know if that changes, though,” she said, her brows raised as if to make a point.
“I will.”
Chelsea returned with her notes and with Russell’s mother, who took Lucas to do something else. He listened as the women discussed him, right in front of him, and he focused in on Chelsea’s voice as she answered every question Karen had for her. She was brilliant, he thought. Every patient that had her for a nurse would be well taken care of.
Karen gave her instructions, which Chelsea jotted down. They discussed his pending doctor’s appointment for the day after Christmas. When Karen packed up to leave, she leaned into him. “Have a nice Christmas. I’ll see you in a few days. Esther will be here tomorrow.”
“Chelsea can’t just take care of me?”
“Not yet, but she’s doing a great job,” she said, and Russell shifted his gaze to Chelsea, who was still writing down notes in her notebook.
“I think she is, too,” he offered, and Karen smiled.
~*~
It was nearly lunchtime when Russell’s father came for him. “I told your mother I was taking you to check fences. I’ve already gotten some feedback on that not being good for you. So if I catch hell taking you into town…”
“We'll be okay, Dad. Hey, I sent an email to that prefabricated housing company and set us up an appointment in January.”
His father laughed as he unlocked the wheels to the wheelchair and began to push Russell from the bedroom. “You’re serious about all of this, huh?” he asked as he pushed him out to the driveway.
“Time to think about settling down I think.”
His father opened the door to his mother’s car, which was easier for him to slide into than his father’s truck.
“Settle down? That sounds like wife and kids talk.”
“Maybe,” he offered, as his father helped lift him from the chair and ease him into the car.
Once he was settled, his father put the wheelchair in the trunk, and then climbed in next to him.
“Back to this settling in. Does this have something to do with Chelsea?”
Russell laughed. “Maybe.”
“Do you think that’s a good idea? Things are a bit unstable right now with everything going on in her life and with you suffering these injuries.”
“Mom says it’s fate.”
His father let out a snort of disapproval as he turned onto the dirt road that would lead them into town.
“Your mom buys into fate much more than I do. I just don’t want to see you get hurt. If Phillip Smythe is right, and it was her husband’s truck that ran you off the road…”
“Ex-husband.”
“Whatever,” his father said lifting his hands from the wheel for emphasis. “Some connection with her nearly got you killed. As your father, a lifetime commitment to this sounds a little crazy. Especially since you’re talking about it while you’re still ankle to groin in a huge bandage and a wheelchair, and she’s hiding out in our house.”
There was validity to his father’s worries, but at the moment he wasn’t going to think about it. He was going to focus on going Christmas shopping and getting home before anyone noticed they’d been missing for hours.
As they merged onto the main road, Russell could feel the tension build in his body. They’d be passing the guardrail he went through. He braced for it as they came up on it.
“Slow down, would you. I want to see this,” he said to his father, who did as he asked and actually pulled to the shoulder.
“I usually drive the other way. I didn’t want your mother to see this,” he admitted.
Russell looked at the road ahead where his tire tracks still stained the pavement. The railing was taped off, but his truck had done quite a job on them before they gave way and his truck flipped down the hill and into the trees.
He held his breath. Nearly two weeks later and it still looked horrible. Closing his eyes, he tried to remember anything he could about that night.
Innocently, he’d gone to the bar to let off a little steam. He’d been worked up over his brother going to Italy with Gia. It had been stupid, but he was lonely, and when things hadn’t worked out for himself with Gia, well, he just wanted a night to forget.
He’d had all of two beers before he’d begun making moves on the bartender. Yes, he’d gotten into it with someone who didn’t care much for the Walkers, though he hadn’t offered up much reasoning, except to say Byron Walker had once screwed him out of a job or something. It hadn’t been much of a surprise, as many people didn’t care for Russell’s uncle. It was when he’d made a comment about his father that Russell remembered getting mad, but even then he’d let the comment slide. And then the man said something about not being man enough for Chelsea. That had struck a chord. He’d made it a point to bring up the knowledge that she had to get some on the side and challenged his manhood again. That’s when he got in the man’s face.
They never hit each other. Only words had been exchanged, but they were heated.
There was a woman there, too. She’d been older, and he remembered looking at her thinking that she must have had a hell of a life, and it showed like a map on her face. Her skin was pale, and her hair nearly black. It was a stark contrast.
She had held off the man, telling him that Russell wasn’t worth the energy, but he didn’t remember them following him to his truck that night. All he remembered was finishing his beer, tipping the bartender, and leaving.
“You doing okay?” his father asked, and Russell realized he’d closed his eyes.
“Yeah. I was just trying to remember being run off the road.”
“And?”
“I don’t.”
“We’d better finish our shopping. Where do you want to go first?”
~*~
With Russell out with Everett, Chelsea found it nice just to relax for a few hours. Lydia had dropped by with baked goods for Glenda for Christmas, and she stayed to chat with Chelsea.
They sat on the back porch of the Walker house. Chelsea had a jacket wrapped around her to keep her warm, and a cup of tea between her hands. Lucas was blowing bubbles in the cold, which Lydia had brought over for him. She would never have imagined this was how they would spend Christmas Eve.
“I drove by your house this morning on my way back from the event center. Smythe was loading things into his truck.”
“I asked him to get Lucas’s bed, a gate, and his highchair. They were things we didn’t think of the first time, but it’ll make it easier here.”
“I’m sure between all of Russell’s brothers and cousins, you could have had them move them for you. Why ask Smythe?” she growled.
“He offered, and he checks up on the house. It’s his opportunity to see if it’s been compromised again.”
“You, my friend, are living many different hells. Your ex is on parole. Your house is broken into, and you’re forced out of it. And you have to spend all this extra time with Smythe. He’s never been a fan of the Walkers, you know.”
Chelsea shook her head. “No,” she whispered. “He’s never been a fan of Byron Walker because he causes trouble,” she reminded her.
Lydia nodded in agreement. “He’s certainly had a lot of work because of him. And Jake’s street racing hasn't helped his attitude toward the Walkers.”
Chelsea laughed. “I think he’s learned his lesson there.�
�
Lydia sat back in her chair and warmed her hands on her mug. “How does Russ do with Lucas? That’s been a sore spot for him, you know.”
“I can imagine. He wasn’t ready to accept him, but I think he might have fallen in love.”
“With Lucas?”
Chelsea nodded, as she watched him spin in circles. “I think they’ll be good for each other.”
Lydia leaned in, her arms on her legs. “Are you sure about this? Do you really want to go back there?”
“It was a good place to be, Lydia. I messed it up.”
“You fight a lot.”
That made her chuckle. “We still do. But if he’ll give me another chance, I won’t turn it down.”
“Do you think it’s your ex that tried to hurt him?”
She shook her head. “I think it’s coincidence.”
“You believe that just randomly, whoever stole that truck decided to run him off the road?”
“I have to believe that. I can’t think that this is my fault at all. I wasn’t there. And it’s only chance that I happened to be on that floor at the hospital for rotation when he came in. This is life offering me a second chance,” she assured her friend.
Lydia relaxed back. “We’re a mess, you know? You love a man with a temper and a mouth that causes people to run him off of roads. And the only man who is interested in me is the one man I have no interest in.”
“Are you sure?”
“The only thing I’m more sure about is that I’d rather die alone than to give in to him,” she said with a curt nod.
Chelsea turned when she heard the door behind them slide open. She nearly laughed when Phillip Smythe walked through it.
Lydia gripped her mug tighter and her lips pursed.
“Afternoon, Ladies,” he said lightheartedly.
“Good afternoon,” Chelsea greeted, but Lydia kept her eyes forward.
“Chels, the things I brought from your house are in the garage. Mrs. Walker thought that would work for now. She’ll have Gerald and Ben bring them up for you. I also brought those other items I’d been holding,” he said, as he looked at Lucas.
“I appreciate it. Can I get you some coffee or tea?” she offered and noticed Lydia shift her a steel-eyed look.
“I have to get back to town. I’m going back over the tapes from the bar.”
“Do you think you’ll find something.”
“I hope so,” he said. “I’d like to give Russ some closure.”
“He’d appreciate that.”
“Where is he?” Phillip asked, but she noticed his eyes had diverted to Lydia, who kept her attention directed away.
“He went out with Everett to check the fences. They’ve been gone for a very long time, though.”
“Perhaps they stopped up at Eric’s.”
“That could be,” she agreed. She hadn’t thought of that.
“I’ll leave you two to your drinks.” He turned to leave and stopped again. “Goodbye, Lydia.”
Lydia huffed out a breath. “Bye,” she said sarcastically, without ever looking over her shoulder.
Phillip smiled and headed back into the house.
Lucas jumped around the yard a bit more. His little nose had become cherry red, and Chelsea’s tea had gone cold. As she stood to gather up her son, the door opened again, and Russell poised his chair at the top of the ramp.
Lucas looked up and with an enormous smile on his little lips. He ran toward him. “Ride.”
The smile on Russell’s face matched that of her son’s, and she felt her heart swell in her chest.
“Dad, you heard him,” Russell said, and Everett picked up Lucas, set him on Russell’s lap, and pushed them down the ramp to the patio where she sat with Lydia. “It’s chilly out here,” he said as Lucas snuggled up to him and rested his head against him.
“He’s been a little cooped up in the house. I thought it was good to let him run,” she said as she gazed at the two of them together.
“I should head back home,” Lydia stood. “My grandfather is trying to make nice by having dinner tonight. It should be interesting.”
Lydia kissed Chelsea on the cheek and then did the same for both Russell and Lucas before she walked through the house.
When Chelsea turned back, she noticed Lucas had already fallen asleep on Russell’s lap, and Russell was gazing at him, much as she did, herself, when he’d sleep. He brushed his hand over his head, his fingers lingering on his forehead. She thought she might cry at the sight.
“Did Mom tell you Santa is coming to visit him tonight?”
“She did. She’s gone above and beyond.”
“She loves Christmas. She put stockings up for you both too.”
“I saw them. She’s made me feel like part of the family.”
Russell reached his hand out to her, and she took it. “You are part of this family. So is he.”
She squeezed his hand. “That was all I ever wanted, Russ. You have to know that.”
“I do now.” He shifted slightly so he could reach into his pocket, under Lucas’s body. “So I have a confession. Dad and I weren’t out checking fencelines.”
“You shouldn’t leave the house,” she scolded.
“I know. But I wanted to go to town and do some shopping.”
Chelsea narrowed her eyes on him. “Karen had better not find out.”
He laughed. “She won’t. I wanted to get something for you, and I can’t wait until tomorrow to give it to you.” He handed her a small wrapped box, and now the tears did come.
“Russ…”
“Go on,” he said as he wrapped his arm around Lucas and held him close.
Between the thoughtfulness of the gift in her hands and the sight in front of her, she thought perhaps her heart might melt.
She unwrapped the box and pulled it open to reveal a diamond, heart-shaped pendant. She pulled out the necklace and held it up.
“Oh, Russell. This is too much.”
“You have a beautiful heart, Chels. I wanted to commemorate it. I think becoming a nurse fits you. You’ve always cared for people, and the two of us know how much you give to others, first hand,” he said before he placed a kiss on Lucas’s head.
Chelsea covered her mouth with her hand. “It’s beautiful.”
“Put it on. I’m not much help right now,” he joked.
Chelsea unclasped the hook, slipped it around her neck, and rehooked it. “Well?”
“It pales in your beauty,” he complimented softly.
“It’s moments like this that I think we’ll never fight again.”
“Don’t count on it.” He took her hand and pulled her closer to him. “I’m not going to let you go this time. This time, I’ll fight for you. For both of you.”
“That’s a big promise.”
“Yeah, well my eyes are open now. I love both of you, and that’s a lot coming from me. I can’t see ever letting either of you leave me.”
Chelsea held her hand over her heart. “Russell, you’ve been around him for a few days. What if you find out that it’s too much? You and I, we’ve loved each other before. We know what to expect. Things are different now. Can you really look at him every day and not be reminded of what I did to break your heart?”
“I look at my mother and how she looks at Eric. He wasn’t easy on her. And he was eight when our dad married her. Chels, if she can love Eric as much as she does, I know that in my heart I can love Lucas for who he is, and not think about his genetics. Family can be chosen too.”
“I love you, Russell Walker. You need to know that no matter what I’ve ever done, I never stopped loving you.”
He pulled her in closer until their lips met. And though it was a simple kiss, it held so much promise.
Lucas squirmed beneath them, and she backed away. “I should go put him down for a nap.”
“Why don’t you put him in my room, we’ll be near enough for him then.”
She nodded and scooped up her son as she stood.
And as she carried him into the house, she kissed him softly on the cheek. He already smelled of Russell.
As she lay him down on Russell’s bed, she looked down at his fair skin, and his white-blond hair. There had never been a more perfect human conceived, she thought. Russell saw that in him too. She knew that to be true. Maybe they could have it all and Russell could love them both. Wouldn’t that make it the best Christmas ever?
Chapter Sixteen
Keeping Lucas out of the presents was a full-time job for everyone who had gathered for dinner. Russell knew his father was a patient man, but until he’d picked up Lucas for the tenth time to distract him, he hadn’t quite understood how patient he was. It didn’t seem to weigh on him, this child that just happened into their lives and was disrupting everything around them—in a good way.
It was killing Russell to sit and watch everyone moving about, setting the table, pouring drinks, just being normal. Susan was fussing with some dish, while Chelsea tended to the pumpkin pie she’d promised Gerald she’d make. Somehow, Russell managed to get himself in a corner, and the world moved on without him—until she came to him.
Pearl had dropped by a dress from her bridal store for Chelsea to wear tonight. It was a bridesmaid sample and more of a party dress than a wedding dress. It fit her like a glove. She’d curled her hair, and golden strands cascaded down over her bare shoulders. She was as lovely as he’d ever remembered her.
“I brought you a drink,” she said, handing him a wine glass.
He sniffed the liquid inside. “This is grape juice.”
She smiled. “Can’t mix drugs and alcohol,” she joked, and he humored her with a laugh. Karen had made it a fact to remind him more than once that he could do his celebrating after the holidays.
“Come here,” he said, motioning her toward him. “Sit down.”
“There is nowhere to sit.”
“I want you on my lap, so you’re close to me.”
She moved in closer. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
“You won’t. You know where all of my no-no places are,” he joked, and she laughed as she carefully eased herself down on his lap with her body mostly on his good leg and the chair. It would have to do, he thought. But in a month, he was going to sweep her up in his arms and carry her away. They’d dance, too, when he could walk again. There was a lot of healing to be done, he decided.
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