The Heart's Shrapnel

by S. J. Lynn

  “Um . . . I’ll give you a minute,” Jane’s mom says.

  “Thank you, Mrs. Summers.”

  “No, son. Thank you.” She closes the door, and I look at Jane. She’s still asleep, and I don’t want to wake her.

  There’s a stuffed animal on the upper right corner of the bed. It looks old and ratty even. A favorite? Sitting on the edge of the bed, I grab it. I’m not even sure what the hell it was supposed to be at one time.

  Lifting back the corner of the covers, I place it in the crook of Jane’s arm. She snuggles into it immediately, and I wish it were me. But, I can’t. I have to go. The driver is waiting.

  I lightly brush my finger against the silken skin of her face. My heart contracts with pain. It feels like the kind of memory you have the last time you saw someone you loved. But, it’s not the last time.

  Rising, I kiss her softly on the lips. I leave the room and shut the door.

  ***

  Jane

  The sound of birds chirping and the smell of sunshine waft through the room. I smile, feeling content and happy.

  Where am I? I remember waking up in a hospital room, but that’s it. Opening my eyes, familiar walls stare back at me. Am I dreaming? I’m back in my old room in my mom and dad’s farmhouse. Mom and Dad?

  Pushing back the covers, I try to get up, but I can’t. My ribs are killing me. Suddenly out of breath, I lay back against the pillow and notice something in my arms. As carefully as I can manage, I lift whatever it is up in front of me.

  Penny. My old Gloworm stuffed animal. I loved this thing and took it everywhere. Bringing it back down, I breathe it in. It smells of my childhood, and . . . Wes?

  Oh my God, Wes! Trying again, I work at removing myself from the bed and onto the cool wooden floor. It creaks beneath my bare feet.

  Someone bursts through the door. “Jane?”

  “Mom?”

  She rushes over to me and calls for Dad who rushes in just moments later.

  “Honey, let’s get you back to bed,” Dad says, assisting me.

  Once I am safely situated, I ask, “Where is he? Is he okay? Kevin was after him. He tried to kill him, he—”

  “It’s okay, Jane. Calm down. Everything’s fine . . . he’s fine. He’s the one who dropped you off,” Mom assures me. I take a steadying breath and lean my head against the pillow. My eyes heat and a single tear burns the corner of my eyes.

  “He’s gone? I didn’t get a chance to say good-bye.”

  From my peripheral, I see Mom nodding to Dad, and he leaves. Where’s he going?

  Minutes go by with Mom and I saying nothing as she sits holding my hand. I close my eyes, suddenly tired. My door opens and she gets up. Then the door closes and all goes silent. Where did they go? I hear the floor creak.

  “Jane.”

  My mouth splits into a grin. I hear a few more steps and open my eyes. He’s standing above me like a dream. He’s so sexy in his uniform. I think I might die. It’s not your typical army attire. It’s more casual with a CID badge on the side of one arm.

  “You stayed,” I whisper, elated.

  He bends down and kisses me on the lips.

  I smile against his mouth and whisper, “Again.”

  He kisses me again a little longer, but then he breaks away all too soon.

  “I was headed down to the car, and just couldn’t do it without seeing your eyes before I left.” It’s his turn to smile. “So the driver is still waiting to take me back.”

  “Take you back?” I start to sit up, but he stops me.

  “Shh, Jane. Relax. You’re still recovering. I’m leaving for about a week or so to finish some things up.”

  “Oh,” I say with a pout.

  Wes smooths out the crease between my brows with his fingers. “And when I’m done, I’m all yours.”

  My gaze shoots to his. What is he saying?

  “I’d like you to move in with me,” he adds. “We can discuss when and where later, but I’d really love to have you in my life forever. And wake up to your beautiful face every morning . . . and maybe start a family?”

  I smile through my tears. He makes me so happy. “Kiss me again.”

  He smiles just before brushing his lips on mine. “I love you, Jane from Baltimore,” he whispers against my mouth as he stares into my eyes with a love I’ve never known before.

  “And, I love you, Wes from Utah.”

  **Please enjoy a preview of “Through the Fog” by S. J. Lynn. A romantic suspense**

  Through the Fog Excerpt

  Chapter One

  I WASN’T PREPARED FOR THIS. I mean, back in Queens, New York, I had worked with some wealthy patients but this guy is in a class of his own. It took me almost ten minutes just to navigate my rental car down his never-ending driveway and it was like going back in time. He’s obviously rich but it’s more than that.

  A large gate greets me, and I reach into my purse to find the scrap of paper with the code I’ll need to open it. Once I’ve entered the number into the key-pad, the gates open, drawing my eyes to the wide array of lit up trees, leading me deeper into the unknown. If I wasn’t nervous before, I definitely am now. The night sky only adds to my unease. I am farther away from home than I’ve ever been in my life and this place makes me feel every inch of the distance. I miss my cozy apartment already.

  I continue down the drive and it seems like I’ll never get to the man’s house, but a few minutes further and it comes into view. This is no standard two-story home. It’s a castle, a real stone castle that could fit hundreds of people. I don’t know why I’m surprised. He is a Duke.

  I shut my car off and search my purse for a comb to try and tame my auburn mess. I’m normally very professional in my appearance, but the trans-Atlantic commute hasn’t exactly made that easy. My usual bright hazel eyes look dim from exhaustion. Taking my purse, I step out of my rental car, leaving my things behind, and make my way up to the front steps where two overly large wooden doors greet me in welcome. I’m not quite sure what to do. Should I knock? I doubt anyone will hear me.

  I don’t see a doorbell, which makes no sense at all. There’s probably a protocol for this but I’m outside my comfort zone here. I’m not a visiting nurse. Usually all of my patients are at the hospital—and at least in America—so I don’t run into problems like this. I knock several times but to no avail. Aren’t they expecting me? With all these lights, I can be seen from Mars.

  Just when I am about to go try honking, a disembodied voice startles me. “May I help you?”

  Glancing around I see a discreet speaker with a little button under it. It’s so cleverly disguised by the ironwork of the doorframe that I hadn’t noticed it before. I wonder if they can see me too. “Uh, I’m Adalind Carter,” I say putting my hands up to my pounding heart.

  “What can I do for you, ma’am?” The voice on the other end is clipped and undeniably English, not warm and fuzzy but not unwelcoming.

  “A Mr. Hugo contacted a friend of mine…Ms. Shelly Storm? She sent—” Instantly, I am buzzed in.

  Hmmm…even here people jump at the mention of your name, Shelly.

  The outside of the house was amazing, but the in-side is even more spectacular. The entryway is exactly what someone who has seen every episode of Downton Abbey would expect—shiny marble floors, golden fixtures, a grand staircase, and a crystal chandelier that probably cost just as much as my car back home. I wonder briefly who changes the lightbulbs.

  Nobody comes to greet me, so after a while I decide to wait in the room to the left of the entryway because it has chairs and couches. It has beautiful dark wooden floors that accent with the ancient wooden beams on the ceiling. The decor is all in earth tones and I feel soothed just stepping into the room. There are shelves upon shelves of old books and overstuffed chairs gathered around a fireplace. It’s rather cozy, inviting.

  Behind me someone clears their throat and I spin around, almost losing my footing. An older gentleman is standing in the doorway, his ha
nds behind his back. I briefly note that he is handsome for his age with his full, salt and pepper hair that flows back from his high forehead in a classic wave. The only lines that stand out on his face are those around his eyes and mouth making it obvious that he smiles a lot… or used to. Everything about him is immaculate—from his straight, white teeth to his amber eyes and his pressed, black penguin suit.

  This must be Hugo. Shelly didn’t miss a single de-tail regarding what he’d look like. She must have asked him to describe himself for my benefit. She thinks of everything.

  “Ms. Carter. I am Hugo and I wish to welcome you to Warlington Castle. I have been looking forward to your visit and I apologize if your reception seemed a bit cold. I had to be sure it was you.”

  I feel like I’m in an episode of the Twilight Zone—featuring the English aristocracy. I guess in a way I sort of am.

  He bows and I have no idea if I am supposed to follow suit so I half-bow and half-curtsey. Win, win.

  “Thank you, Hugo, I understand your caution. I can only hope I am able to provide the Duke with the care that he needs.”

  “I have every confidence, Ms. Carter. You’ve come highly recommended by Shelly, and I trust her implicitly.” Interesting. “Now, if you will allow me to escort you, I’ll lead you to your room.”

  I follow Hugo past the grand staircase and down a hallway leading to an elevator that eventually takes us to the next floor. I suspect he doesn’t want to trudge me up that many steps and I silently thank him for it.

  It is eerily quiet in the massive house as we make our way down the thick carpet to the end of the hall.

  Hugo gestures to a door, then turns to me and says, “I will leave you now. Should you need me, there is a button on the side of the Duke of Warlington’s bed. You also are equipped with one in your room.”

  Wait, he’s leaving already? He hasn’t told me anything.

  As he starts to turn away, I stop him.

  “Hugo?”

  “Yes, Ms. Carter?” He turns expectantly towards me.

  “Could you give me a brief overview of his condition? I only know that he…the Duke, has been in a coma for a two-month period.” Reaching into my purse, I pull out a pad and pen. My laptop is still in the car with my things so I’ll have to document everything later.

  I wasn’t lying. Less than twenty-four hours ago, I had been sitting in my apartment when Shelly called and told me that I was urgently needed for an assignment. She’d even driven me to the airport, giving me the little information she had on the way.

  “Yes, Ms. Carter.”

  “Please call me Adalind,” I interject before he can go any further.

  “Ms. Carter, I’m afraid I don’t know much about his condition. The nurses before you, well, let’s just say there’s a reason they are no longer in our employ.” His face hardens at the mention of my predecessors, and I wonder why, but don’t dwell on it too long. I’m here to do a job.

  “All right, please just fill me in on how he came to be in a coma. You didn’t give Shelly much detail, so there wasn’t much for her to tell me. The more information I have, the more I can help him.”

  “I understand.” Hugo gestures to a bench of carved, polished wood right outside the Duke’s room. I gingerly sit on what must be an antique while he remains standing.

  “I’m sure you can imagine that the privacy of the Duke is of utmost important next to his life, so I’m afraid I can only give you the basics.”

  “That’s all I’m asking. I understand this is a, uh, sensitive situation.”

  Hugo eyes me carefully before he continues with his story. “His Grace apparently had been speeding on a road that he regularly drove on and lost control of the vehicle causing it to roll down a steep hill. Fortunately, he survived. But, it was a dreadful accident. He has yet to gain consciousness, which of course you know. However, the past few days he seems to display some eye movement. I think I even witnessed his hands slightly twitch,” he adds, his hope obvious.

  As I listen to Hugo, I wonder if perhaps these subtle signs he claims to be seeing are just a result of his wishful thinking, which is likely to be the case. After all, it isn’t all that common for someone to come out of a coma after more than two months. Even if they do, it’s not without its own set of problems. But, although I only met Hugo a few minutes ago, it’s evident that he would do anything for the Duke. The mere fact that he tracked down Shelly, whose health-care clinic has a sterling reputation, and then brought in me, a stranger from a different country, attests to that.

  “Okay, so he was in a horrible car accident and has been in a coma. I’m assuming the nurses who were here before me kept some kind of charts these past couple of months?” He’d implied that they weren’t much help, but surely they kept records. It’s standard procedure and drilled into nurses worldwide from day one of our training.

  His eyes narrow, and his lips thin in disgust, as if he’s just squashed a bug beneath his feet. I sense from his cold demeanor that it is taking a huge power of will for him to respond in a way that is in keeping with his position.

  “I’m afraid they kept no records of any kind, Ms. Carter. I’ll fill you in wherever I can, but I honestly don’t know all that much.” He sighs casting his eyes off to the side in thought.

  “I understand.” I smile at him warmly; it’s important that he know I am only here to help. I need information to give the Duke the best care possible but I am all about “first do no harm.” “Might I ask who set up the nurses’ visits?”

  “That would be the Duke’s cousin.”

  I narrow my eyes at him in question.

  “I will not concern you with the details, but know that as of two days ago, these decisions are no longer his to make.”

  From how Hugo talks, I can only imagine why this is the case. I wonder briefly if Shelly is aware of this information, and if so, why wouldn’t she tell me? Regardless, I scribble it down to consult her about it later. She had warned me she only had incomplete information and I have no reason to doubt her. Hugo doesn’t seem like the confiding type anyway. He probably wouldn’t have told her much over the phone.

  “Oh!” His sudden outburst disrupts me from my thoughts. “There was a brief time that His Grace was in an actual hospital. I’m not sure if that helps.”

  “Maybe. How long ago was that?”

  “It was right after the accident. He was transported to the hospital by helicopter directly from the accident scene. It takes around an hour to drive there, south of here. He stayed for only three days before his cousin William had him moved here. Doctors agreed to let him go on the condition that proper medical help was on the property. But, you see how well that is going,” he adds dryly. “The hospital was very hesitant to let the Duke leave, as you can probably imagine, but around here the wishes of the aristocracy still hold a certain amount of sway.”

  I’m listening carefully to all that he tells me, and it’s not adding up. Why would the Duke’s cousin want him to be out of the hospital so fast? If he should be anywhere, it’s there! And taking him out is just more trouble for everyone involved with greater risks to the Duke’s recovery.

  I shake my head. “Who knows why people do the things they do? With my job, I’ve been in a lot of delicate situations. When it comes to your own family in a crisis, you find yourself doing things that don’t make a lot of sense. The knee-jerk reaction seems to be to want injured loved ones home. I’m sure the cousin meant well. I mean, with the Duke being such a public figure, I can sort of see the need to protect his privacy.”

  “Yes, I suppose so.” Hugo doesn’t seem convinced by what I’m telling him, and neither am I really. But, I’ve been doing this for a while now and I’ve seen a lot of craziness. My job is to give my patient the best care possible, not get involved in family drama. “But, Ms. Carter, I still don’t think it was the best thing for the Duke.” Me either, Hugo, but no one asked us. “Still, as I said, you’ve come highly recommended, and so I insisted that you be t
he woman for the job as I was given authority to make the decision. I know that the Duke will be in excellent hands.”

  I can tell he is done with the conversation. He’s fidgeting, eager to part ways. Truth be told, I’m a little fidgety too. I’ve never traveled so far to take care of anyone, especially not someone this powerful in society. Just being in this crazy gorgeous castle has my stomach twisted in all sorts of knots.

  “Thank you, Hugo. I will do my best.”

  “You are most welcome, Ms. Carter. If you will excuse me, I shall retrieve your bags.” He points over to a door. “This door to the right is the Duke of Warlington’s room. I wasn’t sure if you wanted to see him before you got settled or not. However, there is a connecting door right ahead of you as you walk in leading to your bed chambers should you need to get to him quickly at any point.”

  Jeez, I hope if this Duke does wake up in the middle of the night that he’s not some old, perverted freak. Wouldn’t that be the cherry on my sundae? I usually go back to my own home after my shift ends, although I realize that’s not possible here. But, the odds of him coming out of his coma are slim to none and really I’m only here to give an independent evaluation of the Duke’s condition. Shelly said I’d be here for a week, tops, she thought Hugo really needed someone to assess the situation and help him make arrangements for the Duke’s long-term care. If he doesn’t show any signs of possibly waking, then I will have him sent back to the hospital or another care facility for them to wait it out. I’m not here to be a babysitter.

  “That’s fine, Hugo.”

  “Ms. Carter?” I turn expectantly towards him. He looks like he wants to tell me something important. His face is serious, but uncertain. Then his expression again becomes unreadable. “I just wondered if you would like some tea brought up in a moment.”

  Weird. I wonder what he really wanted to say, and why he decided against it.

  “No, I’m fine. Thank you.” He nods and turns to walk away, leaving me second-guessing my part in all of this. Once I’m sure he is completely out of sight, I place my hand on the door and pause, taking a deep breath before entering the Duke’s room.