They slept again.
The next time they surfaced, pale sunshine spilled into the room.
Brooke stirred drowsily, yawning and stretching like a little cat. She burrowed her face into his side. “Don’t wanna get up,” she mumbled.
He tightened an arm around her and kissed the top of her head, feeling a bone-deep contentment inexplicably overlaid with dread. “It’s your wedding day, sweetheart.”
She opened one eyelid. “Don’t you mean our wedding day?”
His face heated. “Yes. Of course.” Pressure built in his chest. He wanted to do something, say something.
But he couldn’t.
Instead, he nuzzled her cheek with his and climbed out from under the covers. It was an asinine thing to do. Any man with an ounce of testosterone would have stayed right there and claimed what was his.
But a chasm had opened at his feet. Terrifying. Endlessly deep.
He’d been down that canyon once before.
“How long before you’ll be ready to leave?” he asked, feigning cheerfulness.
Brooke rolled to her back, her expression hard to read, though she seemed more resigned than delighted about her upcoming nuptials. “Half an hour, I guess.”
“Sounds good.”
He shaved and dressed with little recollection of his jerky, automatic movements. Putting on his newest suit with a crisp white shirt and a royal blue tie made him marginally calmer.
He’d worn a tux when he married Jenny. This was not the same at all.
The florist delivered Brooke’s bouquet right on time. Austin signed for it and tipped the guy.
In the meantime, he texted back and forth with Audra. She was meeting them in Joplin. At her insistence, she had procured a small cake for afterward at her house.
Austin was completely unprepared when Brooke walked out of the bedroom. The sight of her as a bride, even a less than formal one, slammed into his chest like a gunshot. And was equally painful.
Her blond hair was caught up on top of her head in one of those fancy knots women manage, with little wisps artfully framing her flushed cheeks. Subtle makeup emphasized smoky gray eyes. Soft lips covered in pale raspberry gloss made him want to snatch her up before any other man caught a glimpse of her delicate beauty.
The dress she had chosen was perfection. Her shoulders were bare. Ivory silk flattered her delicate curves. The skirt was narrow with a hint of swish. Her legs, those legs that could twine around his back and take him to heaven, looked a million miles long. Ivory pumps to match her dress had three-inch stiletto heels that gave her more height than usual.
He tried to swallow the boulder in his throat. “You look breathtaking.”
Her smile was more cautious than radiant. “At least the dress still fits. I suppose that’s the upside of being sick every morning.”
“Is it awful? Even now?”
She lifted one pale, perfect shoulder. “I think we may be getting past the worst of it. We’ll see.”
“Good.”
He hated the stilted conversation, hated the distance she had set between them.
He knew why the awkward wall was there. Brooke was protecting herself. Austin had insisted on a sterile, emotionless union, so his bride was doing her best not to care.
His own jacked-up psyche had created this mess.
Brooke reached for her clutch purse. “We should go. Alexis will be waiting.”
Alexis had offered to meet them in Joplin, but Brooke had insisted her friend travel with them. Austin wasn’t an idiot. His bride didn’t want an intimate car ride with him.
Outside on the front porch, they both huddled into their coats. If the weather was any harbinger of marital luck, they were doomed. November had come in with steel-gray skies and chilling rain.
Austin struggled to lock the front door. The new key wanted to stick. “Damn it,” he said, after it got stuck a third time and he had to take it out and try again.
Brooke hopped from one foot to the other. “I’m going to wait in the truck. I’m freezing.”
“Wait,” he said. “You’ll ruin your dress. Let me hold the umbrella.”
At the last moment, the dead bolt finally clunked as it was supposed to. He dropped the keys in his jacket pocket and reached for the large black umbrella. But Brooke had already taken it and stepped off the porch.
In slow motion, her shoe hit the top step—the newly painted top step that was slick as glass in the pouring rain. Her flimsy heels wobbled, giving no purchase as all. As he watched in horror, unable to reach her, she fell down seven stairs, striking her shoulder and her head and finally crumpling onto the sidewalk.
His entire body was paralyzed. A roaring in his head made it almost impossible to think. To breathe.
He was at her side in seconds, calling 9-1-1. Feeling like a fool because he couldn’t remember his new address.
“Brooke. Brooke, sweetheart.”
Her eyes were closed. A large, ugly bruise already bloomed on her right cheekbone. Blood seeped from a gash just above it. He wanted to scoop her up and hold her, but he was terrified to risk further injuries.
He knew the first-aid drill. Brooke might have damaged her spine during the fall. To lift her limp body could do irreparable harm.
Shrugging out of his coat, he draped it over her, covering as much of her small, broken body as he could. He left her only long enough to retrieve the damned umbrella. Then he opened it and crouched beside her, keeping the rain at bay as best he could.
With one hand, he stroked her face, held her wrist, felt her pulse. “Hang on, Brooke. Help is on the way. You’re going to be fine.” Though it seemed her heart beat strongly, what did he know?
Royal’s emergency services were top-notch. Austin knew they must have arrived in mere minutes. But the delay seemed like an eternity.
When at last they pulled up with a cacophony of sirens and a barrage of flashing lights, he should have felt relief. Instead, he was numb. The fear had overtaken him...had frozen every cell in his body.
Forced to step back, he watched, agonized, as they eased Brooke onto a board and strapped her down. Started an IV. Wrapped her in a blanket.
“She’s pregnant,” he blurted out suddenly. “She’s pregnant.”
One of the female EMTs gave him a sympathetic smile. “We’ll take good care of her, sir. You can meet us at the hospital. Okay?”
He nodded. Hospital. Right. Not a courthouse. Not today.
He should call Audra. And Alexis.
The idea of making meaningful conversation was beyond him.
Instead, he took Brooke’s phone from her purse and found Alexis’s info. Adding Audra’s number to the text, he sent word to both of them.
Brooke fell. We’re at the hospital. I don’t know about the baby.
His own cell phone rang immediately. He didn’t answer. He couldn’t speak. He was so cold and so scared and so damned helpless.
He couldn’t lose someone again. He couldn’t.
In retrospect, he shouldn’t have driven himself to the hospital. There was no time to waste, though, so he did it anyway.
The emergency room waiting area was crowded. After struggling to find a parking space, he was then forced to cool his heels for several minutes before it was finally his turn at the counter.
“They brought my fiancée in by ambulance,” he said. “Brooke Goodman?”
The woman consulted her computer. “The triage nurses are with her now. As soon as they get her in a cubicle, I can send you back.”
“Can you tell me anything?”
The middle-aged woman, harried, impersonal, glanced at him a second time, and whatever she saw on his face must have cut through her professional reserve, because her expression softened. “I’m sorry. I can’t give out any information like that. But it won’t be long. Please take
a seat, and I’ll call you.”
Sixteen
Brooke stirred, tried to breathe and groaned as a sharp pain lanced through her chest. A feminine voice broke through the fog. “Easy, Brookie. Not so fast. I’ll hold a straw to your mouth. Open your lips.”
It was simpler to cooperate than to protest. A trickle of cool liquid soothed her parched throat.
Why was she here? What happened to her?
Moments later, she sank back into sleep.
Her dreams were not pleasant. In them, she struggled. She cried out. And always, the pain.
Gradually, the fog receded. But the pain did not. Breathing was agony. “Alexis?” Her voice sounded thin and reedy.
“I’m here, baby. What do you need?”
“More water, please.”
Swallowing didn’t hurt. As long as she stayed perfectly still.
Unfortunately, that wasn’t going to be an option for much longer. An overly cheerful nurse came in and unhooked an IV. “Gotta get this young lady up and moving around before pneumonia sets in. I’ll be back shortly.”
Brooke put an arm over her face. “Damn, that hurts.”
Alexis pulled a chair closer to the bed. “You have two cracked ribs. And a broken wrist. The wrist required surgery. But everything is going to heal nicely. Those ribs will give you hell, though. Nothing they can do about that.”
Gradually, snippets began to return. Her wedding day. The rainy morning. A slow-motion tumble off the porch. She remembered hearing Austin’s panicked shout. Her own scream. And then multiple jolts of pain before she blacked out.
“The baby?” she croaked, suddenly terrified. “What about the baby?”
Alexis stroked her hand. “The doctor says the baby is fine. There was a bit of bleeding initially. They were concerned you might lose the pregnancy, but that has settled down. Your poor body took the brunt of the damage. They can’t give you the best pain meds, though, because of the pregnancy. That’s why you’re hurting.”
“Ah...”
Brooke turned her head slowly and scanned the room. As far as she could tell, she was in one of the very luxurious private suites at Royal Memorial Hospital.
Alexis hovered. “Can I get you anything?”
“What day is it?”
“Thursday afternoon. They’ll bring you dinner shortly. You didn’t get to eat yesterday because of the surgery. Then today when you woke up, the morning sickness kicked in. They’re concerned about your weight.”
“Where’s Austin?” She couldn’t hold back the words any longer.
Alexis blanched. “Well, um...”
The door opened and a familiar redhead walked into the room. She smiled gently at Brooke. “We’ve met. I’m Audra.”
“Austin’s sister.”
“Yes.”
“Where is he?”
The other two women looked at each other and back at Brooke. Alexis swallowed. “We’re not exactly sure, honey. He took off.”
Brook tried to sit up in the bed, alarmed. “What do you mean?” Pain forced her back down.
Audra took over the narrative. “Austin was here with you when Alexis and I arrived. He stayed through the surgery, until the doctor assured all of us you were safe and out of the woods. And then he...”
“Then he left.” Alexis had a militant look in her eyes. “No one knows where he is. I’m sorry, Brooke.”
Before Brooke could process that extraordinary information, the officious nurse was back. With the help of Audra and Alexis, the uniformed professional hustled Brooke out of bed and into a robe before making her stand and take a stroll down the corridor and back.
At first the pain was enough to make Brooke’s forehead bead with sweat. Gradually, it subsided to a dull ache. Her legs moved slowly, as if she had been bedridden for a week and not a mere thirty-six hours.
Finally, the ordeal was over and she was allowed to return to her bed.
She fell asleep almost instantly.
When she awoke, Brooke instinctively looked for Austin, but her heart cried out in disbelief. He was nowhere in sight. Only Audra was in the room.
Austin’s sister was as gentle as Alexis and even more comfortable with the routine. Brooke remembered that she had been—or still was—a nurse. “Thank you for helping me,” Brooke said. She didn’t know the protocol for dealing with Austin’s sister.
All she could think about was Austin admitting that Audra had said marrying Brooke was a bad idea.
Great. Just great.
The dinner trays were delivered. As darkness fell outside the window, Brooke made herself eat.
Audra didn’t say much.
When Brooke had finished half a baked chicken breast and some mashed potatoes, Audra sighed. “My brother isn’t answering his cell phone. But while you were sleeping, this was delivered by hand to the front desk.”
It was a plain white envelope with the word Brooke scribbled on the front. Though Brooke had never actually seen Austin’s handwriting, the bold masculine scrawl was somehow familiar.
Her hands shook as she opened it.
Dear Brooke,
I’ve moved my things out of the condo for the moment. I want you to be comfortable there. And I’m trying to clear my head. If you need anything at all, Audra has access to my accounts. I’ll be in touch soon.
AB
Brooke handed the single sheet of paper to Austin’s sister. “I don’t really know what this means.” Horrible feelings assaulted her. Hurt. Abandonment. A deep sense of betrayal.
Audra glanced at the terse note and winced. “Nor do I. But he was a mess yesterday. Don’t give up on him, Brooke. Please. I love my brother, and I want him to be happy.”
Brooke’s throat hurt. Some aspects about this interlude were going to take far longer to heal than a broken wrist. “The songwriters and poets tell us we each have one great love in our lives.”
“That’s bull crap. Austin loved Jenny. Of course he did. But I’ve seen a change in him since he met you. I have to believe that means something.”
“Wishing doesn’t make it so.” The facts were damning.
Both Austin and Brooke had struggled with mixed emotions about marrying for the baby’s sake. Austin had been willing to help Brooke secure her inheritance, but once her father relented, that excuse was no longer valid.
In the end, the wedding hadn’t happened. Now, it likely never would. Even though she knew it was probably for the best, the crushing weight in her chest made it hard to breathe.
* * *
The following morning Brooke convinced Alexis to take her home—to the condo, though Brooke’s friend was not at all happy about it. “Come to my house, damn it,” Alexis said. “We have a million servants. You’ll recover in the lap of luxury. I don’t want you spending time alone.”
Actually, time alone sounded heavenly. Brooke needed to be on her own to lick her wounds and regroup. “I’ll be fine,” she insisted. “The doctor said I don’t have any special restrictions. They gave me plastic to wrap around the cast when I shower, and the ribs themselves will be self-limiting. I have to move slowly or pay the price.”
“You are so stubborn.”
Brooke grinned. “Pot. Kettle.” She slipped her arms into the loose cardigan Alexis had brought to the hospital. That, along with a solid T-shirt and knit stretchy pants were destined to be Brooke’s wardrobe for the near future.
At the moment, she and Alexis were waiting on the nurse to bring the discharge forms.
Audra had driven back to Joplin late last night.
Austin had been spotted on the job site at the club this morning, but that was the only information Brooke had been able to pry out of her closemouthed friend.
Brooke picked at a loose thread on her sweater. “Where’s my wedding dress? Is it ruined?”
Alexis gri
maced. “I won’t lie. It was a mess. Blood. Mud. A rip or two. But my dry cleaner is a miracle worker. I took it to him yesterday and promised him a pair of tickets to the charity gala if he could work his magic.”
“You didn’t have to do that.”
“For you, Brookie, anything.” Alexis paced the confines of the small room. “You won’t be able to work at the club for a few weeks, but not to worry. I’ll pay you anyway. You know...sick leave.”
“Don’t be absurd. I’m on contract. Sick leave wasn’t part of our agreement.”
Alexis bristled, her eyes flashing. At times like this, Brooke could see the resemblance to her grandfather. “It’s my budget and my event. I can do as I please.”
Brooke blinked back tears. She was dispirited and exhausted and barely hanging on to hope for the future. In spite of everything, she missed Austin’s steady, comforting presence, his support. And she missed him. He was like a drug her body craved without ceasing.
To have Alexis in her corner meant everything. “Thank you. At least it was my left hand. I can still work on pencil sketches for the day-care murals. So I won’t fall completely behind.”
“Well, there you go.”
Soon, the paperwork was complete, and they were on their way.
The most logical route from the hospital to the condo would have taken them directly past the Cattleman’s Club. Instead, Alexis drove three blocks out of the way.
Brooke pretended not to notice.
When they reached the street where Austin had leased a home for himself and his child and his temporary wife, Brooke struggled with a great wave of sadness. She had tried so hard to do the right things in her life.
Yet lately, everything she touched seemed to turn to ashes.
The attached garage at the back of the house made it possible for Brooke to enter the condo by negotiating only two steps. If she and Austin had gone out this way on Wednesday, the accident never would have happened. She would be his wife by now.
A shiver snaked its way down her spine, though the day was warm. In true Royal fashion, the cold snap had moved on. Now November was showing her balmy side. Who knew how long it would last? And who knew if Brooke would ever again share Austin’s bed?
Million Dollar Baby Page 15