“You’re in good hands with these two. I’ll go feed the others and get food for us.” Dale pushed off the bed and slipped into his discarded clothes from last night. He stooped down—allowing me to take in the incredible view—and neatly placed my clothes on the end of the bed where I could reach them.
“I wouldn’t want you to be stranded here totally naked.” He lowered his brows for a moment, re-collected my clothes, and turned to leave the room. “On second thought…”
“Dale Ramsden, Junior. You give me those clothes back right now.”
Pouting slightly, he tossed them back on the bed.
“Thanks.”
He gave me a quick peck on the forehead before leaving the bedroom. I flopped back on the pillows, listening to his footsteps on the stairs and letting Gypsy wiggle her way back to my face. Zynk managed to get himself up on the bed as well. They each let me curl an arm around their necks, and I squeezed, holding on for as long as I could. I would probably have to get a dog when I got back home. My apartment would seem so quiet, so lonely without one. My landlord would flip, but he’d have to deal with it. If I couldn’t have Dale, I’d at least have a dog, dammit.
I fumbled back into my clothes due more to the fact Gypsy and Zynk wouldn’t give me a whisper of space than to my sprained ankle. The dogs remained glued to my sides as I edged myself to the end of the bed. I sat there for a few moments, my bladder strongly hinting at a necessary trip. Dale hadn’t brought the crutches upstairs, and he’d already gone outside.
“What do you think, Gyp?” I met Gypsy’s blue-eyed stare.
She let out a faint bark and jumped off the bed. Crouching and balancing my weight on Gypsy, I hobbled, almost painlessly, to the bathroom. I carried out my business there and freshened up thanks to the dog’s unwavering dedication. By the time she escorted me back to the bedroom, Dale was cresting the top stair.
“What’s going on here?” He took Gypsy’s place and settled in under my right arm.
“I needed to use the facilities,” I explained. “It couldn’t wait.”
Dale whisked me into his arms, making me feel as light as a feather. He carried me downstairs and deposited me on one of the island stools.
“That okay?” he asked.
“Uh-huh.”
“What’ll it be? Pancakes? French toast? Eggs?”
“Yes.”
“Alanna.” He placed his hands on his hips and scowled, but the expression wasn’t ominous on his perfect face.
“Okay, okay. Pancakes.”
“Pancakes coming right up.”
The phone rang, echoing loudly in the quiet of the house. Huffing out a breath, Dale scooted over toward the refrigerator to pick it up.
“Hello…Hey, Dad…Yeah, she’s fine…I know I called the hospital…It is good news…Pancakes…Uhhh…Yeah, sure…Bye.”
Dale hung up the phone and ran his hand through his tousled hair.
“What’s the matter?”
“Dad wants to come by and see you.” He held out his hands. “I couldn’t stop him.”
“And what makes you think I’d want you to stop him,” I said.
“Maybe
I
wanted to stop him. Maybe I want you all to myself on our las—” He stopped abruptly and shook his head. “Maybe I want you all to myself today.”
He walked over to the island and bent to get out the griddle from the cabinets below. I slid off the stool and, using the island for support, scuffled over to him. When he stood, his face was twisted with emotion, and he wouldn’t look at me.
“Dale…” I turned him so he faced me and slid my arms around his waist. His hands squished me against him, and he bent to rest his chin on my shoulder. The whiskers along his jaw tickled my cheek as I leaned my head against his.
“I’m going to be doing this a lot today so you’d better deal with it.” He pulled away and busied himself with pancake preparations.
“I think I can tolerate a surplus of hugs.” I eased back to the stool and looked at him for a long, silent moment.
“What are you doing?” he asked.
“Memorizing.”
“Memorizing what?”
“Your face, your smile, your everything. I want to be able to conjure the image of you anytime, anywhere.”
He looked back at me as if he were doing the same. He then turned his attention to the pancake batter until Gypsy barked at the front door. I was reminded of the dogs barking in the backyard when I was home alone with them—when Brian was apparently prowling around out there. A chill buzzed through me, and Dale took my hand across the island.
He was about to say something when the doorbell rang.
“That was quick,” he mumbled as he went to the door.
“Is Alanna here?” a much younger voice sang.
“Yeah, Uncle Dale. Is Alanna here?” another young voice chimed in.
“Where is she?” a third voice asked.
“I’m in here,” I yelled, and the shuffle of boots sounded as Mick, Noah, and Riley rushed into the kitchen.
“Banana Alanna!” the three of them said at the same time.
“Hey, boys. How did you know I was wishing for you to come over?”
I swiveled on the stool to meet their faces, and they each took a turn hugging me. Noah climbed onto the other stool beside me and rested his little hands on my shoulders. He kneaded the muscles there, and I leaned my head back.
“Now where did you learn how to do that?”
“Uncle Dale said I might need to know how to do this someday,” Noah replied, his brown eyes wide with innocence.
“He’s teaching you boys well.” I laid my hand over Noah’s, and he offered me a real cherub of a smile.
“Is your ankle okay, Alanna?” Mick asked, looking at my wrapped ankle.
“It’ll be fine.” I ruffled his hair.
“Are you going to let Uncle Dale take care of you?” Riley asked.
My throat tightened so much I couldn’t answer him right away. Riley looked at me expectantly and then, thankfully, Selia and Dale came into the kitchen. Dale scooped up Riley, and the boy squealed, forgetting the question he had asked me.
Too bad I couldn’t forget it.
Selia leaned down and pecked me on the cheek. “How are you?”
“Fine, thanks. What about Jake?”
“In Jake’s words, ‘Selia, it’s just a scratch.’”
“Yeah, a scratch that required staples to close,” I said.
“Everything is still where it’s supposed to be. Mostly.” Selia shrugged, but she couldn’t hide the worry that flitted across her face.
“I’m heading back to the hospital once I pass these angels of mine off to Dad, but I thought you might like to know that the forensics team positively linked Brian Turner to all the…” Selia mouthed the word
murders
like she had done in front of the boys before. “Combined with the statement you gave the police yesterday, he’s looking at life in prison.”
I’d never sent anyone to prison. Dale rubbed his warm hand over my back and the cold rising inside me vanished.
“Pancakes,” Mick hollered, breaking the tension.
“You already had breakfast,” Selia said.
“But Mom…” Mick whined. “Your pancakes aren’t like Uncle Dale’s.”
Selia’s mouth opened in mock horror.
“Dude, you better run and hide,” Dale whispered to Mick, shielding the boy with his body. “Now, Selia, let’s be calm about this. Don’t make a scene because your own offspring prefer my superior cooking skills.”
Selia swatted Dale and attempted to reach around him to get at Mick, who giggled and ran to me.
“Alanna!”
“She’s not going to save you, kid,” Selia said. She hooked her arm around her son, placed her hand under Mick’s chin, and squished his cheeks together.
“Do you have something you want to take back, you little monster? Something about my pancakes?”
“You’re pancakes are delicious, Mommy.” Mick batted his long eyelashes at Selia.
Noah and Riley were practically on the floor in wild hysterics over their brother’s antics. Selia dropped a kiss on Mick’s nose.
The whole lighthearted scene made my heart heavy. I wasn’t only going to be leaving Dale. I would be leaving this entire family as well.
Holy Goddess, my chest ached more than my ankle.
I was well into my second round of pancakes, as were Mick, Riley, and Noah, when Ram arrived.
“You saved some for me, right?” Ram cuffed Riley playfully on the neck.
“Uh-huh, Pop,” Riley replied. “Uncle Dale wouldn’t let us eat those.” He pointed to a plate stacked high with pancakes.
“Very good.” Ram kissed Selia and shook hands with Dale. “How’s Jake?”
“He’ll be up and around in no time,” Selia said.
“He’d better be. He’s got a lot to live for,” Ram replied as he took Selia’s hand in his own.
“And he better not forget it.” Selia pulled Mick onto her lap and squeezed him. He wriggled a little but settled against her, a content look on his adorable face.
Ram turned toward me and actually dropped to one knee to inspect my ankle.
“My dearest, Alanna, it pains me to see you hurt.” He got to his feet and reached for my hand. Sandwiching it between his two large hands, he squeezed.
“It’s not that bad.” I leaned forward to kiss the cheek he presented to me.
“Not that bad. Not that bad.” He shook his head vigorously. “If I could get my hands on that Turner guy, I’d hang him by his nut—”
“Dad!” Selia and Dale interrupted at the same time.
“The boys, Dad,” Selia warned.
“Sorry. I’m sorry, but someone who behaves like Turner needs to be taught a lesson,” Ram said.
“I think prison ought to do it, Ram,” I said. “He won’t be able to do what he did anymore.”
“He wouldn’t have been able to do it if I’d carried out my plan either. His equipment would be useless.” Ram shot a wink at me, and my heart warmed in my chest. So nice having family to defend you. I’d nearly forgotten what that was like.
Ram reached for his plate of pancakes and plopped onto the stool next to me. Several bites in, he raised an eyebrow at Dale.
“Son, you know what you’re doing here with these pancakes.”
“I learned from the best, didn’t I?”
“You know it.” Ram nodded and shoveled in a few more bites. “Vince and Violet are going to stop by as well. I ran into them on the way here.”
Dale rolled his eyes so only I could see.
“It’s like we’re having a party, Uncle Dale,” Noah said as a glob of syrup rolled down his chin.
“It does seem that way,” Dale agreed.
“How come you’re not happy then?” Riley asked. “You’re supposed to be happy at a party, Uncle Dale.”
“Who said I wasn’t happy?”
“I can tell.” Riley put down his fork and hopped over to the island. Dale crouched to be eye level with his nephew. “You’re eyes are sad.”
Dale looked at Riley for a long moment, not saying a word or moving a muscle. My eyes stung, and I wished we were alone so the tears could roll. Finally, Riley threw his arms around Dale’s neck, and Dale squeezed the boy against him. When he released his nephew, he ruffled his sandy hair.
“You’re a good kid. You know that, right?”
Riley hugged Dale again.
“Go finish your pancakes before Gypsy gets at them.” Dale nudged Riley back toward the dining room table.
As Riley skipped away, Selia came to lean against the island. “I guess you’re still planning on leaving, huh?” She didn’t look directly at me. Instead, she studied her fingernails as she waited for me to respond.
“I have to leave.” The words came out as a strained whisper.
Selia nodded. “Must be a mighty fine job you got back there.”
Now she turned her hazel eyes toward me, and the full force of her big sisterly protection hit me head on.
“I didn’t come here looking for all this.”
“Maybe not, but you got it anyway. Now you’re going to throw it back at us. My husband almost died protecting you.” Fire blazed in her hazel eyes.
“Selia,” Dale warned.
“It’s the goddamned truth, Dale.”
I was hurting the entire Ramsden clan. This wasn’t just about Dale and me anymore.
“I’m not throwing it back at you.” A small flare of my own anger bubbled inside of me. I rather liked the anger. It would make it easier to leave. “I came here to do a job and go back to New York. I don’t regret falling in love with your brother, or the rest of you for that matter, but I can’t stay. Sometimes you can’t have it all.”
I slammed down my fork, and it clattered in the quiet that had descended in the kitchen. Ram came to stand behind Selia, his hands resting on her small shoulders.
“Ease off, Selia. They’re hurting enough.” He tugged her away from me, but she tossed a remorseful glance my way. She sat with the boys at the dining room table.
“We’ll sure miss you, Alanna,” Ram said as he sat next to me again. “Maybe you could come back and visit around the holidays or something. I throw a mean Christmas Eve bash every year.”
“Thanks, Ram.” I tried my hardest to keep from crumbling. “I would like that.”
Part of that was truth. I would love to come back, but another part of me wondered if I could bid these people more than one good-bye.
A knock at the front door had Dale waking from his temporary paralysis. He looked as if he were barely keeping it together as well. When he came back to the kitchen, Vince and Violet were following him.
A round of
hello
s and
are-you-okay
s circulated amongst the group, and then Violet came over. I’d pushed my plate to the center of the island, my appetite long gone by this point.
“Hey, love,” she said.
“Hey,” I said.
“Come with me.” Violet walked over to the door near the garage and retrieved the crutches. I slid off the stool and eased onto them, hobbling after Violet as she led me toward Dale’s study. Vince edged Dale out to the backyard.
“There’s nothing you can say to make this better,” I warned her.
“I wouldn’t dream of trying to make this better,” Violet said. “I can’t imagine what you went through in the woods with that psycho, and I know if I had to leave Vince, I’d be in way worse shape than you are. But then again, I’ve been accused of being emotional.” She made quotation marks with her hands and flopped onto one of the chairs in the study. “Look, I’m sorry Vince and I ran out on you guys. We figured—”