The Royal Wedding Collection

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The Royal Wedding Collection Page 6

by Rachel Hauck


  He’d stopped. “A royal guest?”

  “Yeah. At least that’s what the spandex ladies were buzzing about. Some royal relative of Mrs. Butler’s.”

  He moved forward again. “To whom do you think she was referring?”

  “I don’t know … Hey,” she said low, “You’re from Brighton. Wouldn’t it be funny if you were their special guest?”

  “Downright hilarious. Shall we get you to the hospital?”

  “Never been much of a royal watcher anyway. Other than Kate Middleton, who marries a prince?”

  “Precisely.”

  Nate guided her through a door tucked under the stairwell and they emerged into an interior garage.

  “A secret garage?” Luxury cars were lined up, facing the closed bay doors. An attendant scurried toward them.

  “Can I help you, sir?”

  “Open the door quickly. We’re off to the hospital.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Nate, are you sure … How did you get your car in here?”

  “Ah, there’s Liam.”

  A block of a man with stalwart features, appearing very uncomfortable in his tuxedo, marched toward them.

  “Let’s be quick, Liam.” Nate opened the front passenger door for Susanna before climbing into the backseat behind her.

  The big man said not a word but deftly shot backward out of the garage, then shifted into drive with only a passing glance at Susanna. “Southeast Medical?”

  “Yes.” Behind her Nate rested a hand on her shoulder, angling against his seat belt to watch the road.

  The massive vehicle rumbled forward as Liam maneuvered through traffic.

  “Thank you. Both.” She had only a moment to absorb the vibe between the men. It was as if one served the other. But her phone chimed before she could finish her assessment.

  “Avery?”

  “It’s a heart attack, Suz. He’s so pale.” Fear blurred her sister’s words. “Are you on your way?”

  “I’ll be there in five minutes.”

  Nate reached around and took her hand, comforting her without a word, taking a small piece of her burden on himself.

  SIX

  For a man trying to recover from a heart attack, Daddy was embroiled in chaos. His room flowed with aunts, uncles, and cousins.

  Avery rested her head on the bed beside him, holding his hand in hers. But Susanna watched from the corner, smiling when Daddy’s tired eyes met hers.

  Typical Truitt tumult.

  It’s what he always said when the family descended upon them and Mama started bossing everyone around.

  “Are we eating or not?”

  “Who wants to watch a movie?”

  “Y’all, let’s get a round of cards going. Start a tournament.”

  A perpetual organizer. If she had to stop bossing, Susanna thought her mother might just lie down and die.

  At the moment, she was shoving her clipboard at cousin Zack, telling him to note his shift at the Rib Shack.

  “Aunt Glo, come on.” He laughed. “I’ve not worked at the Rib Shack since my first summer in college.”

  Susanna smiled. Brave soul, Zack. Taking on Mama. A parks-and-recreation director, he surfed every morning and socialized every night. His white-blond hair, sky-blue eyes, and sun-roasted skin made him popular with the women of the island.

  “Can you work a ladle?”

  “Yeah, I’m not stupid.”

  “Then you can work the kitchen.” Mama wrote on the clipboard schedule. “Come in Wednesday at six. Get your fish-frying legs back before the Friday rush.”

  “Aunt Glo …” Chuckle, snort, ha-ha, but Zack’s face said it all. He was going down. “Look, I’ve got … stuff … to …” Mama’s one-eyed glare cauterized his rebuttal. He shot Susanna a visual plea. Help?

  “Don’t look at me. I don’t have the magic elixir.” If she did, she wouldn’t have given up a Christmas break trip to tour three of Europe’s most beautiful gardens—Keukenhof in Holland, Mirabell in Germany, and the Lecharran in Brighton—her senior year of college to manage the restaurant while Mama surprised Daddy with a snowy Vermont getaway.

  But Susanna had seen the miracle of their healed divorce, and it’d been years since they’d gotten away together, so she’d agreed to watch the Shack and Avery. Far be it from her not to lend love a hand when asked.

  Zack exhaled and fell against the wall, running his hand through his hair.

  “It’s like the Borg.” Silas, Zack’s brother, popped him on the arm, laughing. “Resistance is futile.”

  But Silas’s laugh was short lived.

  “Silas.” Mama shoved the clipboard at him. “I’ve got you down for Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday.”

  “Me?” Eyes bulging, he pressed his hands to his chest. “Aunt Glo, I’m even less experienced than Zack. I haven’t stepped into the kitchen since, like, tenth grade.”

  “Fine, then you can bus tables.” Mama scribbled on her clipboard. “Your construction company isn’t bringing in much work right now.” Mama glared up at him. She knew everything. Even if she didn’t, she made you think she did. “You start bringing in some cash, and maybe Hadley will give you a second chance.”

  Silas’s cheeks beamed hot. “We weren’t fighting over money.”

  “Nothing is sacred, Silas,” Susanna said with a laugh. “You know that.” Not even the brokenness of her own daughter. Already “I found the right ring but not the right girl” was halfway embedded into the family lore and lingo. All because of Mama.

  Silas squinted at her. “You doing okay, cousin? Since the whole, you know, Adam thing?”

  “I’m doing fine, Si.” Zack and Silas were more like brothers to her than cousins. When she was little, their mama, Daddy’s sister Linda, would keep Susanna for a day or two when Daddy and Mama got into a rip-roaring fight.

  “Glo,” Daddy raised his raspy voice. “Leave the boys alone. We’ve got plenty of staff to work the kitchen. Shoot, I’m only one man.”

  “One man who works like five.” Mama leaned over his bed and smoothed her hand over his cheek. “It’s what got you in here, Gib. We’re lucky you only had a minor attack.”

  “Just take it easy on folks,” Daddy whispered, his eyes fluttering shut.

  “All right,” Mama said, “everyone out. Let’s give Gib some rest.”

  One by one, the family bid Daddy good night, promising to fill heaven with their prayers. Mama motioned for Avery to come around the bed.

  “Come on, baby girl. Let’s get you home. You’ve got school tomorrow.”

  “Bye, Daddy.” Avery bent down to kiss him. “Sorry I called the ambulance.”

  Daddy’s weak smile lit the room. “You did good, sweetie.”

  “She sure did.” Mama tapped Avery on the behind as she left the room. “I’ll be back in the morning, Gib. Susanna, you too. Let’s go.”

  “Stay.” Daddy motioned to Susanna with a small finger wave. “Talk … to … you.”

  “Don’t stay too long, Suz,” Mama said, bending to kiss Daddy good night. “Get better, Gib. Hear me?” Mama. She who must be obeyed. Daddy couldn’t dare do anything but return to one hundred percent.

  The door swung softly closed behind Mama as she left, the tenderness in her voice lingering. Underneath all her gruffness, Mama was passionate about Daddy. About her family.

  “She loves you,” Susanna said, scooting into the chair Avery had vacated.

  “She does. Bossy ol’ gal.”

  “What would you do without her?” Susanna slipped her hand under Daddy’s, careful not to disturb his IV.

  “Have a moment of peace and quiet.” He laughed then squeezed her hand. The heart monitor beeped, but when Susanna checked the screen, Daddy’s heart rate held steady.

  “You gave us a good scare.” Susanna shifted in her chair, adjusting the constraints of her dress. The tight sheath was fine for standing and walking. Not so much for sitting.

  “‘Tain’t nothing. Just a small blockage.” />
  “You know we’d all be lost without you. Especially Mama.” Susanna stroked her thumb over Daddy’s hand, her eyes ripe with tears.

  She could endure losing Adam and the idea of happily ever after, but she could not endure losing Daddy.

  “Angioplasty in the morning. I’ll be as good as new. Too stubborn to die. Only forty-eight. Planning on walking you down the aisle.” In that moment, Daddy’s eyes met hers with a clear focus. “I’m sorry about Adam, kitten. You always wanted the one true love, didn’t you?”

  “He wasn’t it, I guess.” Tears again. Susanna picked at the threads of the cotton hospital blanket with her free hand. “But you know, it was getting kind of silly. Waiting, not moving forward, acting more like friends than lovers.” She reached for a tissue from the bedside table. “I can see it now. My fortieth birthday, and we’re all sitting on the back deck of the Shack, and Aunt Jen says, ‘Say, Suz, when you suppose Adam is going to propose? You’re getting a bit long in the tooth.’”

  Daddy’s short laugh gave way to wheezing. Susanna rose up, ready to buzz the nurses as he fought for a good breath. “I guess … not so funny.”

  She sat back down, rolling the tissue over her finger and dabbing the water from her eyes. “But it is. Go ahead and laugh. We could use it.” She cupped her hand under Daddy’s. “What I care most about now is that you’re okay.”

  “I’ll be right as rain after tomorrow.” Daddy closed his eyes with a slow, filling inhale. “So what’s with your fancy duds?” He peeked at her through a one-eyed slit. “You look pretty.”

  “I was at some benefit with Gage. He’s trying to get the job for the new hospital wing.”

  “Gage Stone. Good man. Industrious. Owns his own business—”

  “Stop right there, Daddy.”

  His lips parted in a half smile. “You see right through me.”

  “I do.” Susanna shredded the edge of her tissue. “Daddy, should I try to get Adam back?” She knew the answer. But she’d been committed for so long it seemed downright unholy to just let the relationship end so simply.

  “Only you know, kitten.”

  “It smarts like the dickens, but …” Her voice waivered with truth. “I think he did us both a favor.” The more she realized she didn’t want to marry him either, the more she felt the fool. Best just to move on. Put it behind her.

  The conversation settled, and Susanna watched Daddy resting, breathing. In his fighting years with Mama, Daddy would order Susanna to her room where she’d hide in her closet, shaking with fear. Now she was overwhelmed with love.

  He became a very different Daddy after he remarried Mama when Susanna was twelve. He was gentle and kind, encouraging, supportive, and in his way, telling her he was sorry about her childhood. Over and over.

  “What am I going to do with all that money?” he ventured through his medicated drowsiness, his eyes still closed, his breathing still a bit labored.

  “What money?”

  “The money I saved up for your wedding.”

  She laughed through a fresh start of tears. “Buy that yacht you’ve been threatening Mama with.”

  Wedding. Yacht. It didn’t matter. There were no savings. Daddy and Mama sank all of their money into keeping the Rib Shack afloat. That was Daddy’s yacht. Anchored in the red clay of Georgia.

  “I blame myself. Well, your mama and me,” he said, eyes open now. “We skewered you to the wall before you had a chance to duck.”

  “Stop it, Daddy. No need for this talk now.” She caught a fast tear with her finger before it dripped from her chin onto his hand.

  “You ain’t protecting my feelings by pretending we were great parents.”

  “I’m not. You were rotten when I was little. But, Daddy, I can’t blame you and Mama for my failed relationship with Adam.”

  “I always thought you were just settling with him.”

  “Really …” Susanna stretched back, eyes wide. “This is news.”

  “Well, you know. Love’s a tricky business. You seemed to think he was the true love you always wanted. He was a nice, steady boy with a good career. But, kitten, there’s something more for you. I can feel it. Something big.”

  “Now that’s just the medication talking. All I want is for you to get better. That’s my something big.”

  Daddy drifted off. In the quiet, Susanna realized how scared she had been on the way to the hospital, but Nate—

  She jumped up. Nate. Goodness, she’d forgotten him. Left him in the waiting area.

  The door eased open and two nurses entered.

  “… he’s been sitting there all night,” said one of the nurses.

  “I can’t keep my eyes off of him. He’s like a fine painting,” said the nurse with the name tag that read Kasey. “Hey there, Mr. Truitt.”

  “He’s sleeping,” Susanna said. “Did you say a man was still sitting in the waiting room?”

  “The handsome one.” Kasey typed in notes on Daddy’s bedside computer. “Hasn’t budged in the last hour. Said he was waiting for a woman.” She arched her brow. “You that woman?”

  “Of course not.” Well, not that woman in that tone. Susanna gently kissed Daddy’s cheek, then whispered, “I love you. You have all my prayers.”

  She hurried down the hall on tiptoe, trying not to disturb the patients with the click-clack of her heels against the tile. Her legs pushed against the constraints of her tight skirt. Her heart thumped against the confinement of her expectations.

  Why had he waited so long?

  Yet when she rounded the nurses’ station, the chairs were empty. Susanna stopped cold. So he’d finally gone. Disappointment smarted as she slowly finished her route to the chairs.

  Well, good for him. He shouldn’t have hung around for so long.

  But oh, it would’ve been nice to thank him. Again. Twice in four days he’d been her knight in shining armor.

  Maybe she could contact Mrs. Butler’s event coordinator, see if she’d release his phone number or address.

  “Thanks, Nate,” Susanna whispered to the cold waiting area as she sank down into the nearest chair, her thoughts drifting toward how she was going to get home.

  “Susanna?”

  She looked up into Nate’s fine face. He stood over her with a cup of coffee in his hand.

  “I thought you’d gone.” She rose to meet him, hand pressed against her stomach as her heart splashed down. He was dashing, with his cocky grin and confident glint in his eyes.

  “I’m still here. Just went for coffee.” He hoisted his vending-machine cup. “Would you like some?”

  “No, no. Thank you.” She sank to the chair again, bone tired. “W–why did you stay?”

  “To see how you—and your father—fared.”

  He took the seat next to her, feeling as if she were seeing him for the first time, seeing beyond his high, fine features, beyond the sense that he carried a hundred years of history in his bones.

  He was handsome, yes, but kind was the first word that came to Susanna’s mind when she thought of him—at Lover’s Oak, leading her down the hall to the Butlers’ secret garage. Comforting her on the drive to the hospital.

  “I don’t always need to be rescued,” she said, out of the blue, out of her heart.

  His smile challenged the waiting-room shadows. “Would it be bad if you did?”

  She regarded him with wide eyes. “Do you know a man who wants a woman who always needs to be rescued?”

  “Sometimes it does a chap’s heart good to rescue a beautiful woman. Makes him remember why God rescued him.” His velvet confession brushed her heart.

  “You are a very interesting man, Nate Kenneth.”

  “You are a fascinating woman, Susanna Truitt.” He sipped his coffee. “Tell me, how is your father?”

  “Good. He’s lucky. It’s a mild blockage. They’ll do an angioplasty in the morning.”

  “My father”—Nate settled back against the blue vinyl chair—“battles leukemia.”

/>   “Nate, I’m sorry.” It was the first time she considered whether he had a father or parents.

  “He’s been failing the last few months.” Emotion accented his eyes. “I quite regret all the years I fought him, believing I knew better, rebelled.” He laughed at his comment. “I’m a brave man, am I not? To realize the errors of my youth just as my father is ailing?”

  “Better than after he’s gone.”

  Nate smiled, nodding. “It’s what I love about you Americans. No fussing about. Just say it plain.”

  “Plain? I don’t think I’ve been saying things very plain the past decade of my life.” She slid back against the seat and rested her head against the back of the chair. “I’m too tired to go home.”

  “Then we’ll just sit here and rest,” Nate said.

  With a slow breath out, Susanna released the tension of the night, of the day, of the weekend, and drew strength from Nate’s calm company.

  She’d nearly dozed off when his phone rang. The piercing sound jolted them forward in unison. “It’s Liam.” He answered, walking toward the window, then around the nurses’ station, phone against one ear, hand over the other.

  Susanna watched his straight back until he disappeared, deciding she liked him. Not because he showed up at the oddest, most-needed times, but because he appeared so genuine and down-to-earth. When she had more energy, she’d like to talk to him about Brighton, his family, what kind of work he did that required the likes of a Liam.

 

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