Divine Charity [Divine Creek Ranch 18] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting)

by Heather Rainier

  Jack and the guys didn’t look like they knew any more than he did yet so he spun to go find Val. Following the sound of his voice, he found him standing next to the truck behind Charity’s vehicle. The bashed-in windshield was explainable, now that he knew about the biker. The impact had been hard enough to flip the biker back into the truck’s windshield. His Harley—what was left of it—was strewn on Crockett Street between the truck’s front bumper and the crushed rear end of Charity’s vehicle. Squinting at the scratched-up remains of the motorcycle’s fuel tank, he thought the blue and red paint job on it looked familiar.

  Shit.

  An EMT treated a man with a cut on his forehead while a deputy spoke with him next to the truck. The man looked like he was scared to death. On the sidewalk, two EMTs ministered to the biker who had already been loaded onto a gurney. Their backs blocked Ransome from getting a glimpse of his face and he didn’t think he wanted to know. He didn’t want to be right. Looking around, Ransome didn’t spot a helmet—the one thing he’d been praying to see in the rubble.

  Val was on the other side of the gurney, on one knee, holding the guy’s limp hand. “Hang in there, buddy. They’re taking good care of you.” He looked up at Ransome and the bleakness in his eyes told him what he really didn’t want to know.

  Two city police officers came over, their eyes were bloodshot as they spoke with the EMTs who raised the gurney and moved swiftly to the waiting ambulance. One of the EMTs patted one of the officers on the shoulder as he took out his phone and placed a call.

  With an aching heart, Ransome tugged Val’s shirt and they hurried back to the ambulance Charity was in. Knowing it was the right thing to do, Ransome said, “Justin, you ride with her to the hospital. We’ll bring the truck and find out what’s going on with Justine and Grace. I’ll call Beau on the way.”

  “Okay,” Justin said as he climbed into the ambulance at the EMT’s nod. “When you see Justine, kiss her for me.” Left unspoken in his husky tone was the hope that when they got to her, she was okay.

  “Val! Ransome!” Charity called out, stopping the EMT from closing the door.

  “Yeah, angel?” Ransome called.

  Charity said, “Justine’s prom dress and all of our shopping from this morning was in the back of the SUV. Please get as much of it out of there as you’re able. Grace had stuff in there, too.” She sounded like she was choked up. “I love you. If you see her, tell her I love her.”

  Ransome’s throat closed up on him. Val nodded and said, “You got it, babe.”

  The ambulance took off and Ransome couldn’t help the empty feeling that assailed him with their absence. Charity was a vital part of his life and he sent a prayer of thanks heavenward that she was mostly okay, if a little banged up.

  They found Ethan talking to Hank while he continued directing the emergency workers as they dealt with the injured people in the other two vehicles and began working on clearing the street. After spotting Ransome and Val, Ethan approached with Adam, while Jack stayed with Grace.

  Ethan said, “The driver of the truck was texting when the accident happened. Hank said they found his phone.”

  “That explains why he looked so scared earlier.”

  “Damn it,” Val growled.

  Hank joined them and nodded. “This job is hard on days like today. Dumb-asses think their conversations can’t wait until they get where they’re going. If Patterson dies, that driver’s looking at reckless driving and involuntary manslaughter.”

  Val’s face fell. “Patterson Elder? They had his head wrapped already when I walked over there so I wasn’t sure.”

  “Yeah, Patterson Elder. He’s a city cop, and a damned good one, too.”

  Ransome’s heart ached for Patterson’s family. “We know him. Met him several months ago on a ride with Eli and Justin. Nice guy. I thought I recognized his bike but I knew he was a cop so I didn’t want to say anything. No point in starting a rumor if it wasn’t him.”

  Hank nodded, his shoulders drooping. “His father and brothers are going to be devastated. If anyone deserves a miracle, it’s them. I wish he’d been wearing his helmet.” He looked up at Val and Ransome, since they hovered over him by several inches and said, “I hope you both wear your helmets when you ride.”

  “Every time, sir,” Ransome replied. “It sucks sometimes but I like my head on my shoulders more than I like the wind in my hair.”

  Hank nodded when they told him they needed to retrieve all of the girls’ belongings from the SUV, which included a couple of handbags and numerous shopping bags and a gorgeous blue and gold dress wrapped up in a long plastic bag. It tugged at his heart that it was probably Justine’s prom dress. He prayed Justine would be able to wear it.

  Val saw it and whistled. “Our girl’s gonna knock that boy’s socks off…but not his pants.” They shared a wry chuckle.

  “Definitely not his pants.”

  They placed everything in the truck with care and hurried on to the hospital. Val dialed Beau’s number while Ransome drove. Ransome listened to the one-sided conversation and after he hung up, Val told him that Beau and his friend Noah were stuck in the traffic backed up from the accident but were now turned around and heading toward the hospital.

  “Good.”

  “I could hear Noah in the background asking questions. He sounded worried.”

  “Of course he did. Our girl’s perfect. He must know that.”

  * * * *

  “Trevor Dornan, you are a man fortune smiles upon,” he said to himself as he sat parked on the curb watching the drama unfold while snacking from a bag of pork rinds. He’d been about to take a detour around the accident after he’d seen it happen, before the traffic got snarled and clogged all the surrounding roadways. But then he’d had a brilliant thought.

  There were at least five cars involved in that accident. And most people being the bleeding heart types that they were wouldn’t be levelheaded about an accident involving that many people. There’d be chaos. There’d be loved ones showing up to boo-hoo about the victims. Nobody would notice him. He was too smart to get caught again, especially now that he knew who he was up against.

  His first thought had been to maybe snag one of those hot-looking blonde gals in the front of the SUV while they were unconscious before a big crowd was drawn. They looked like sisters. He might be shooting blanks but he could still get it up…a little. Witnesses might think he was trying to help but the risk was too great. And he couldn’t take the chance that if the one he took was damaged from the accident, she’d be no damn use to him.

  Nope, he was better off biding his time and watching. Figured that maybe something or someone would click for him at the accident scene which was drawing quite a crowd. He’d looked up everyone involved in his court case and even knew what most of them looked like. It was amazing how stupid people were when setting up their Facebook profiles, giving away too much information, showing pictures of them and their kids, even listing their phone numbers. It boggled his mind. But it also helped a lot. He’d been willing to bet if he sat there long enough, he’d find the missing puzzle piece as to why she was somewhere in this Podunk town—he gave a triumphant cry as he beheld what was before his eyes.

  Val Teller and Ransome Cross.

  “You were a dumbass not to think of them at the first.” His father’s guttural voice grated in his mind. Anytime he felt not quite up to par, it was always his father’s voice he heard. His father was a hard man. He’d taught his son well. He’d just make damn sure not to lose the scent now that he had them.

  He’d know those two sons of bitches anywhere because he’d been up close and personal with their fists. That defeat rankled, too. Come to think of it, he could blame them for his masculine disfigurement every bit as much as he blamed the bitch. He ground his teeth together, wishing for a chance to do the same to them. Normally, violent hatred and other strong emotions caused an instant erection, but he didn’t even get a tingle that time. Yeah, that was something he
could blame on them as well. It was probably just as well he hadn’t decided to snag one of the blondes.

  A deep chuckle sounded from him as that Teller bastard leaned down to kiss one of the blonde chippies from the accident and then watched in surprise as Cross did the same.

  “Well, now,” he muttered. “Isn’t this a sweet little family reunion.”

  He laughed out loud, glad the windows on the truck were up when the third guy he didn’t recognize kissed her, too.

  “Hell, maybe I shoulda grabbed her after all if the bitch can handle three men.”

  Maybe he’d set a trap for them and lure them out so he could even the score between them and bag the blonde bitch in the process.

  That’d feel real good. He might not have a functioning dick at the moment but he still had his fists and somebody needed to pay for his loss.

  He followed Teller and Cross in their truck, being careful to stay well back, just to see where they ended up. There’d been a sign out front of the doctor’s office saying she was closed for the day when he got back from lunch. Might as well make his day productive.

  He felt pretty sneaky, creeping right up under them without either of them being the wiser.

  * * * *

  Standing on a tall ladder, Leah Woodworth dusted a shelf and rearranged an Easter display. Taking a moment, she surveyed the expanse of Stigall’s Department Store. Her baby. It hummed like a well-maintained machine most of the time and she loved it. At the moment the store was quiet as people got off work and went home to supper with their families.

  “Leah?” Presley Ann said from the base of the ladder. “Is there any way you and I could have a little chat sometime soon? I need to talk to you.”

  “Presley Ann, if this is about wanting off Friday or Saturday night, I can’t do it. I’m going to need you.”

  “It’s not that,” Presley Ann answered softly.

  “And no, I can’t give you an advance. You know how Dad feels about that.”

  Presley Ann made a quiet, disgruntled sound. “It’s not that either. I don’t need any favors. It’s…personal. You’re never at the apartment so I thought we could eat supper in your office…and talk.”

  Presley Ann seldom ever wanted to talk to her. She mostly talked at her, either lecturing Leah about her failings as a fashionista or complaining about how bad her feet hurt.

  But guilt edged in, as she recalled the recent change in Presley Ann’s demeanor. She’d jumped at the chance to work in the temporary prom headquarters they’d set up that morning, and had seemed happy about the prospect of extra hours. Maybe talking with her would be a chance to find out what was going on.

  She’d been looking pale of late. Although Leah didn’t feel particularly close to Presley Ann, she didn’t want her to be sick either. But then again, it might just be that her latest boyfriend had dumped her and she wanted a shoulder to cry on…again. That was probably it. Same song, different verse. Sighing, she looked down at her sister and was about to nod but was distracted by the front doorbell.

  Despite her attempts to ignore it, excitement shot up her spine when she recognized the two men who had just entered. Two more of the persistent Elder bothers. James and Vincent. They scanned the store and then spotted her on the ladder. Her heart thumped as she recalled the warm, quick kiss Patterson had given her earlier. Lord, if anything could convince her to give those three men a chance it was kisses like that one. The memory of his warm lips on hers made them tingle.

  She descended as quickly as was safe while they made a beeline for her. They were waiting at the base, but as she got a close-up look at them, she lost all pretense of a nonchalant yet sassy greeting.

  “What—what happened? James. Vincent. What’s the matter?”

  “We need to talk to you privately,” James said, reaching out to her but stopping just shy of touching her. His eyes implored her.

  “Sure. In my office?”

  She walked past Presley Ann and led James and Vincent around the corner and down the hall to her office. Farther down the hall, she could hear Evelyn and the head cashier chatting amiably in the bookkeeping office. She was eternally grateful that Evelyn had quickly grown bored with retirement and had come back to work part time. Thinking how random that observation was, she directed the men into her office.

  She was about to invite them to sit in the chairs opposite her desk, but they directed her to take a seat in one of them instead. Then they knelt in front of her.

  Her heart pounded even faster when she looked in their eyes. “Guys, you’re scaring me now. What happened?”

  “It’s Patterson. There’s been an accident.”

  Tunnel vision enveloped her and their voices had a funny echo in for a few seconds.

  “Is he all right? What happened?” she asked, even though she had a feeling she already knew.

  Vincent swallowed and said, “He was on his motorcycle—”

  She reached out to cover his mouth with her fingers, unwilling to hear his words.

  “No,” she whispered, her voice sounding so far away and weak. “He brought me coffee earlier and told me not to make any plans for supper because he was going to bring it to me. He doesn’t like it when I get fast food while I’m working. He wanted me to have a decent meal. He said he was stopping by Rudy’s to pick up my favorite and have Rudy put one of his lemon bars in for dessert. He didn’t even give me the chance to turn him down. He just said he was doing it and that was that…He…”

  He kissed me.

  She babbled on breathlessly, unwilling to give them a chance to further explain until she was out of air. James reached up and wiped a tear from her cheek. “He’s not coming, honey.”

  “Oh. His motorcycle broke down, huh?” she asked, grasping desperately at straws. “I always worry about him on that bike, even though I don’t really have the right or responsibility to worry about him. He does what he wants anyway. I have to fuss at him to wear his helmet. Stupid man, one of these days…one of these days he’s…” She reached out to both of them, placing her hands on their shoulders, fearing she’d fall out of the chair when the world threatened to go topsy-turvy. They braced her with their hands. Even squatting, they seemed to tower over her, surround her.

  Vincent looked at her with tears swimming in his green eyes—so much like Patterson’s. “Leah.” His voice lost strength and he had to clear his throat.

  “What happened? Where is he right now?” she asked, squeezing his firm shoulder as he struggled to speak. He covered her hand with his and said, “Doll, he’s in the hospital. He was thrown from his motorcycle. He wasn’t wearing his helmet.”

  She closed her eyes, bracing herself. “It’s bad?”

  James said, “Yes. He was rear ended and thrown into the windshield of the vehicle that hit him. The doctors say he has a head injury. There’s swelling in his brain. They’re doing everything they can for him, but…”

  “Did they offer any hope?” Even a little hope? A slight chance? A chance to finally tell him…

  James cleared his throat again. “They were giving him drugs trying to reduce the swelling and they may know more in the morning. They didn’t sound hopeful though.”

  “Can you take me to him?” I wish I’d gone to him sooner. To all three of them. I should’ve said something sooner.

  “Of course, honey.”

  Rising from the chair, feeling as though she’d aged fifty years, she removed her purse from her desk and walked down to the bookkeeping office, her legs feeling like blocks of wood.

  Evelyn looked up and her eyes widened as she went to Leah. “Oh dear. What happened?” She glanced at James and Vincent and frowned as though she noticed Patterson was missing from the trio.

  “Evelyn, I have to leave on an emergency. Patterson has been hurt. I’ll be at the hospital. I’ll need you to close the store and open in the morning.”

  Evelyn patted her forearm. “Of course, sweetheart. You go see to Patterson. I’ll keep him in my prayers. Presley An
n will help me and it’ll be fine.” She whispered something to James and Vincent but her words didn’t register with Leah as she turned and walked down the hall. She was fishing her car keys from her purse when they caught up with her and James said, “No, honey. I don’t think you should drive. You’re coming with us.”

  “Okay,” she whispered, still holding the keys in her hand as she walked with them to the front doors.

  “Leah? Are you leaving? We were going to eat supper and talk, remember?” Presley Ann said as she approached from the prom headquarters.

  “Not now, Presley Ann,” Leah said, without even looking at her. “Help Evelyn get the store closed and please help her open in the morning.”

  “But I have an appointment—”

  You selfish brat. A man I love may be dying and all you can think about is your own self-centered world. You can get your hair or your nails done another time.

  “Reschedule it. For once, I need you to come through for me. Deal with it.”

  “Okay.”

  In other circumstances, Presley Ann’s compliance would’ve surprised Leah, but at that moment it barely registered.

  At the hospital, they led Leah to the intensive care unit and told the nurse on duty that she was family. Patterson lay on a hospital bed with IVs and wires connected to him. Machines whirred on either side of his bed, and she recognized the up-and-down motion of a ventilator.

  “He’s not breathing on his own?” Her voice sounded hoarse.

  Vincent shook his head and pulled a chair close to the bed for her. Neither man said anything else. “We’ll give you some time alone if you’d like,” Vincent whispered to her.

  She nodded and they left the room. She looked around at all the intimidating equipment working to keep Patterson alive while they waited to see if the anti-inflammatory drugs would help him.

  His head was wrapped in gauze and the ventilator tube kept his mouth propped open. His sexy full lips were slack and nothing at all like the teasing devilish grin she secretly loved. He’d taken her by surprise when he’d backed her into her door, invaded her space, and pressed those lips to hers. Minutes after he’d left, her lips had still tingled with his gentle touch and her resolve to hold him and his brothers at arms’ length had begun to seriously crumble. Now here he was, so seriously injured. There was a cut across the bridge of his nose which had been carefully taped shut and bruises darkened his cheeks and one side of his jaw.