Granddad's House (On Geneva Shores) (32 page)

“Good. Come on. I’ll take you home.”

As they drove to her house, George said, “Did you hear what the doctor said, some skin off one hand? I’ll bet he tried to stop them. You need to talk to him about that. He should have just given them the keys.”

She looked at George, her eyes wide. “We’ve had the worst time this year with open houses. I told Melanie she has to do them with a partner.”

“Is that why Beau was with you?”

She nodded. “And he said he wanted to see the house. You know how he likes the older classic ones. And all the other agents in our office were busy today.”

She shivered in her seat. “Something like this happened a few years ago—in Seattle. Except the agent died.” She wiped her eyes. “I never dreamed anything like that would ever happen here. I mean, moving furniture and scaring people is one thing. But trying to kill someone? Evergreen is so … quiet.” Her voice trailed off.

“Bad people are everywhere, honey,” George replied. “Consider yourself lucky it wasn’t you they found in the house.”

“I guess.”

They turned the corner and several cars were in her driveway.

“What’s going on?” he asked.

“I don’t know. Oh. There’s Genevieve and Melanie, and Bruce. They must have heard from the Stewarts.”

George walked with her toward her house.

Genevieve reached her first and gave her a hug. “You’ve got blood all over you. Did they attack you?”

“It’s not mine. Beau is the one who’s hurt.” She turned to Melanie. “Have you talked to Mrs. Stewart? We made a mess of her kitchen floor, but the police wouldn’t let me clean it up and when she got home, she said she would take care of it.”

“Not to worry. She was more concerned about you than the floor.”

“With all your friends here, I’m get going.”

“Oh, George, I’m sorry.” Olivia made quick introductions.

“Don’t you want to come in for a cup of coffee?” she asked.

He shook his head. “Not this time. Karyn’s waiting for me.” 

She nodded. “Thanks, George.”

 

George pulled out his cell when he arrived home.
The cops. The car. I’ll bet they found it.
Minutes later, a police officer’s businesslike voice reported the car had been recovered. George called the hospital, and left word for Beau when he woke.
Those two. First his brother. Then her grandfather. Now this. They deserve each other, if only they can get past all the negatives.

 

 

Chapter 19

 

“Visitors go in one at a time.”

Beau opened his eyes to focus on who the nurse was talking to as she stood next to the door.

“You go in first, George.”

Olivia’s sweet voice. He had never heard anything more beautiful. He wanted to hold her, to make sure she was okay. Except he was the one in the hospital bed.

“Hey, George.” Beau shifted slightly in the bed, not wanting his partner to know how much he was hurting. “How’s business?”

“Not nearly as exciting as what you’ve been doing.  Since when do you fight off a car thief?”

“Correction—two punks. I tossed them the keys, but I guess they didn’t like it when I threw it past them.”

“From the look in your eyes, I know you did that deliberately. How are you feeling?”

“A little punchy from whatever they’re giving me for the pain. When it wears off, I can tell they got me. They didn’t hurt Olivia, did they?”

“No. She said the car was gone when she found you. Good thing. She wouldn’t have had a chance against them.”

Beau nodded. “What about my car?”

George started to laugh. “I called the company and they talked to the cops, who put out an APB. When the first squad car had it in sight on a regular street, the company hit the button, the
engine stopped and the cops got ’em. Said it was the easiest takedown they’ve had in a month. One of ’em was actually disappointed they didn’t get to chase them, though your car probably would have outrun their cruisers. I didn’t tell them that.”

Beau started to chuckle, sucked in his breath and pressed his hand against his side to stop the pain. “Where is it—the car?”

“At the impound lot. Being checked for prints, that sort of thing. The cop wanted to know what you paid for it. When I told him, he said he’d have to live on someone else’s salary for a couple of years to get one like it.” George grinned again. “I imagine it’ll be ready before you are, from the look of things. Want me to send Olivia in?”

“Not just yet. I need you to do me a favor.” He leaned toward George, his jaw working as he tried to straighten in the bed. He gave George the address after telling him what he wanted. “Bring it back here as soon as you can.”

George nodded. “So you’ve decided?”

“I decided before all this happened. I just didn’t know I’d want to—uh, take action, quite so soon. I was thinking in the spring. Now I don’t want to wait.”

“I’ll send her in.”

Olivia rushed over to the bed. “How are you feeling?” She reached for his hand and gave him a quick kiss.

“I’ve had better days, but the doctor said I’m too stubborn to let a little bullet do me in. How are you doing? Come closer, so I can hold you.” 

She pressed up against the side of the bed, hugged him and then brushed his hair off his forehead. “George says the police found your car. I’ll bet you’re glad about that.”

He gazed into her blue eyes, blue like the sky on a clear day. Her eyes sometimes reminded him of the lake after a rain, blue like the stone he’d picked out. She was talking, but he’d lost his train of thought. “The car?”

She patted his hand. “Are you getting sleepy? George said they found it. The police did.”

“Oh. Yes. That’s good. No. I’m not sleepy. I found the place I want to talk to you about—a place where we both might like—to live.”

She was looking at him funny, her head cocked slightly to one side, as if he was speaking a language she didn’t quite understand. “What? We can’t talk about that now. We have to get you well first.”

He nodded. “I’m okay. I just lost a little blood.”

“A little? It looked like you lost way more than a little.” She turned a little pale. “I was so afraid you were dying.”

“I didn’t and I won’t. Not like that anyway. I intend to die in bed—with you next to me.” He grinned. “When I’m old, old and tired, too old to make love to you, maybe when I’m a hundred and ten.” He started to laugh, and then groaned.

She beamed and looked toward the door when the nurse came in. “She said we can’t stay long. I don’t think she wants us to make you tired.”

He gripped her hand. “You don’t make me tired, Livvy. Come back this afternoon—will you? So we can talk some more?”

She nodded and kissed his forehead, then his lips, lingering there for a bit. “I’ll be back.”

He watched her leave, and slid back down under the covers, surprised at how little strength he had.
Bring it to me, George.
The sooner the better.

 

An hour later George handed Beau the small box. “Here it is. The jeweler said you need to call him about the stone. Something about the quality of the first one wasn’t up to his standards.”

Beau opened the box. “What do you think?”

“Very nice. Did she pick it out?”

Beau shook his head. “I wanted to surprise her. If she doesn’t like it, I’ll take it back and we’ll get something else. But, the curves—reminds me of her hair, the way it curls, and it fits her long fingers.”

George laughed. “Only an architect with an artistic bent would think like that. When are you going to give it to her?”

“This afternoon. What time is it?”

“A little after two. Want me to call her?”

“No. She said she’d be back.”

“Then I better skedaddle.”

“Before you go, fill me in. Where are we with our projects?”

“On target. Every one. The only one I called to put off was that big old Colonial Revival, on the hill facing Mount Rainier. You were going to take the lead on that and it can wait. The people said to take your time. When I called and said you were taking a little break, they asked me if you were the one who got shot. I guess it was in the papers or online or something. I can ride herd on the rest of our accounts.”

“Okay. Good. I was thinking maybe if you bring me my sketch pad, I could jot down some ideas while I’m here.”

“Nothing doing. You rest. When they kick you out, you can do your sketching then. What did you say you kept telling Paul about getting well when you saw him in DC?”

Beau smiled. “I’m just not used to, you know, lying around.”

“Right. Well, your job right now is to heal, get stronger.” George turned at the knock. “I think she’s here.”

He grinned at Olivia as she pushed open the door.

“Hi, George.”

“Bye, Olivia. Make him stay in bed, will you? He’s threatening to go back to work.”

Olivia frowned at Beau. “You can’t. Not yet. You’ve been hurt.” She kissed him. “Did you have a nap?”

He nodded. “All I’m doing here is lying around and sleeping. Very boring.” He motioned with his hand. “Could you help me? I want to move the bed up.”

She hit the button that raised the head of his bed. “Tell me when.”

“That’s good.” He slid one foot and then his bare leg out from under the covers.

Olivia gasped. “What are you doing? You’re supposed to stay in bed.”

“I’ll—I just need to—just help me up.” He stood, surprised at how shaky he felt.
How’d I get so weak?
He slid down on one knee as she stood by the bed.

“Let me call the nurse to help you,” she said, reaching for his elbow.

“No. I’m all right.” He forced himself to sound stronger than he felt as he reached for her hand. “Olivia. I know your granddad would expect me to do it this way and it was what I planned anyway, so here goes. I love you.” He pulled the small box from under his pillow, opened it, and handed it to her. “Will you marry me?”

She stared at him for what seemed an eternity before her eyes misted. She looked down at the ring, reached for him and pulled him to his feet. “Oh, Beau. You know I will.”

He started to wobble and she helped him back into bed.

“When did you get this?”

He did his best to smile as he settled himself back onto the bed. “Sometime before you did that open house. Do you like it? Let me put it on your finger. I’ve been wanting to see how it would look.” He slid it onto her finger. Perfect.
Just like I thought.

“It’s beautiful.” She admired the ring and hugged him again.

“It fits okay? Not too loose?”

“Perfectly. How did you manage that?”

He smirked at her. “I have my ways.” He dropped his voice to what he hoped was a sexy growl.

The door opened while they were kissing. At a discreet cough, Olivia pulled away from him.

The doctor was standing there. “When do you want to go home, Mr. James?”

“As soon as possible.”

“I’m thinking the end of the week—if you are strong enough to walk without falling down, without help.”

Olivia grinned. “I can help him.”

“I’m sure you can, but he has to show me he can do it himself.”

“I’ll start practicing,” Beau offered.
I’m weak as a puppy.
Could the doctor tell?

“How about you concentrate on resting and doing what the nurses tell you?” The physician smiled. “I’ll come back to check on things—a little later.”

Olivia hugged him again. “The end of the week, Beau. Do you want me to move my things to your place—so I can help you?”

He grinned. “Just the motivation I was hoping for,” he drawled.

“Good. I better leave—so the doctor can check you.”

“Not before you give me a kiss.”

She did so twice, and was about to do so again when the nurse came in.

“Time for your sponge bath, Mr. James.”

He groaned. “Oh, God. Do you have to? I’m not used to—you know …”

Olivia laughed. “Do you want me to tell her where you’re especially ticklish? Which rib …”

“Don’t you dare.” He started to chuckle, remembering their last shower together, then moaned. “Don’t make me laugh. It hurts too much.”

Olivia waved to him and blew him a kiss at the doorway.

Beau closed his eyes and tried not to think of Olivia as the nurse bathed him. He squinted at her when she chuckled. He slid his hands south, hoping the heat on his neck and face wasn’t all that noticeable.

“Couldn’t stop thinking about her, could you?” she asked. 

 

Six weeks later Beau welcomed Katie, Ted, and Paul as they got off the plane in Seattle.

“Welcome to the rainy Northwest in December.”

Ted laughed. “At least it’s not snowing.”

Two hours after Olivia collected Katie and Ted to put them up at her town house, Beau frowned at Paul who was leaning heavily on a cane, his left leg in a cast, his left foot in a stabilizing boot.

His brother stood next to the windows in Beau’s condo looking out at the lake. His blue eyes were sunken in his pale cheeks and the Marine buzz cut had grown out in uneven tufts along
one side of his head. A small bandage lay along his scalp above one ear. He traced the most noticeable scar on his cheek with one finger.

“You don’t seem all that happy to be here. What gives?” Beau asked.

Paul shrugged.

“Do you need some pain meds? I’ll get them. Or these crutches instead of that cane?”

“No.” His brother’s hands clenched and unclenched. “Maybe I shouldn’t have come.”

“You’re my best man, or did you forget that was one of the reasons you’re here?”

“I’m barely a man at all. Look at me! I can hardly walk. The docs said my leg may end up shorter than the other one. I may never be able to walk without a limp. On the plane, people kept staring at me. I hate it!”

Beau was silent for a long minute. He rose and opened the slider, having decided tough love was called for.

“What do you want me to do, Paul, toss you over the side of the balcony? You’re alive. That’s more than you can say for some of those men in your squad. Your colonel told me how you saved them. It’s not your fault some were tortured. It’s not your fault some of them—but not all of them—died. You’re the reason they weren’t
all
captured and killed. And I don’t want to listen to a pity party just because your leg isn’t healed yet. You had two different surgeries, for God’s sake. What the hell do you expect? That you can just walk out of the OR like nothing happened?”

Paul looked at him for a long minute and shook his head before sitting down, the leg in the cast sticking out in front of the chair. “Look at you—that gorgeous car I saw in the garage. A beautiful woman. This place. You must be making gazillions.”

“I work hard. And I saved my money—after the folks died.” Beau met his brother’s gaze. “Your part of the trust fund is still there for you. You have a brain, Paul. Use it! Engineers don’t have to have two good legs, though you will once you’re healed. And there are lots of firms around here who’d love to take advantage of your skills—the leadership as well as what you know about building roads and bridges. Besides that, you’re a hero. They’ll be falling all over themselves to hire you once the Marine Corps lets you go.”

“Maybe.” Paul rose with difficulty, grabbed the crutches, and moved slowly toward the guest bedroom.

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