In From the Cold (16 page)

“Okay.”

“When do you want to go?” I asked. Drake looked at me, then down at Suzie sucking her thumb.

“The sooner, the better.” From his look, Sharon’s time must be running out.

“I’ll get our things.” I hauled Suzie with me, and she helped me carry jackets, accessories and boots back to the others. Soon, we were in the limo, heading to the hospital.

I knew Drake was thinking about Yvette’s request. He watched her, then Suzie, then Paul, then me, back and forth, over and over. Legally, I wasn’t sure he could keep her if he wanted to. Did he? How would a single father manage two little girls? Would Sharon let him? Would Paul?

Paul also studied Yvette on the seat opposite, but his face was unreadable. My heart bled for the man. If Yvette’s world had been turned upside down, so had his. Would a child save him or break him? Had he been a loving father? Drake had liked both of Miles’s parents, but did they want to do this again? Many grandparents raised their grandchildren these days, but would they welcome it or resent it? And what kind of life would they offer Yvette? And what of Sharon? The repercussions rippled through all our lives.

We arrived at the hospital, made our way through the lobby and up to the ICU. Drake spoke quietly to a nurse at the station, and I saw her glance at Yvette and over at the rest of us. Drake soon returned with Yvette in his arms. “The nurse said only two of us can go in at a time. I’ll take Yvette in first and then we’ll see.”

Paul nodded, then walked over and fell rather than sat in a chair. He looked completely worn out. Drake kissed Suzie and me on the cheek, and I kissed Yvette.

“It’ll be all right, sweetheart. We’re here, and we love you,” I said.

Suzie handed Ontidi to Yvette. “Ontidi says he wants to stay with you right now.” Suzie put her fingers in her mouth and dropped her head on my shoulder. I was sure she didn’t understand what was happening, but she sensed her friend’s fear and it worried her. Giving her Ontidi was the best way she knew to comfort her. This sweet, sweet child. I had grown to love all of them in our short time together, and I hugged her to me. How could I leave them? Any of them?

Yvette clutched Ontidi to her, along with Meow, as if they were stuffed-animal bodyguards. Then Drake carried her into Sharon’s room, and Suzie and I sat beside Paul.

“Is there anything I can get you, Paul?” I asked, focusing on him. Surely his pain was far worse than mine. He was so pale, almost gray. He shook his head.

“I’m just tired.” He waved his hand helplessly in the air. “I haven’t quite…processed all this yet.”

“How is Mrs. Lofton?”

“I don’t know. She’s usually so strong, but she collapsed when Drake called. The medics say it was the shock, but she still wasn’t up when I left. A neighbor is watching her while I’m out here.” He grew quiet again, retreating into silence like a protective wall.

I sat there in silence, hoping my presence would offer some comfort. There were no words.

Suzie fell asleep on my shoulder, and we listened to the clock ticking. Ten minutes went by, and then Drake and Yvette returned. Yvette still clutched her toys, but she looked calm, almost happy. I must have looked puzzled, because Drake gave me a lopsided grin.

“She’s awake and wants to see you.”

“Me? Why?”

He shrugged again. “I’ll let her tell you.”

Whatever she’d said, Drake obviously didn’t want to repeat it in front of Paul. I gazed at him for a moment, then spoke to Yvette.

“Everything okay, sweetie?”

She nodded, but her eyes were looking heavy too. I turned to Paul. “Do you think you could hold Suzie while I go in?”

He nodded, and I carefully transferred Suzie’s dead weight into his arms. He was stiff at first, then slowly seemed to relax. Drake sat down with Yvette beside him, and I ran my hand over her hair.

“I’ll be right back,” I said, then Drake grabbed my hand. He studied my face, his eyes piercing.

“Whatever you decide,” he said, “no pressure.” He squeezed my hand, hard, then let me go. Curious now, and even more puzzled, I turned and went to Sharon.

If ever there was a human wreck, it was Sharon. Surrounded by IV trolleys, beeping monitors and tables of instruments, she lay bruised and broken in her bed, hardly recognizable. Her eyes were shut, one side of her face black and swollen. One leg and one arm were in casts, her neck in an enormous brace. She had tubes in her nose, in her throat, in her arms, and a catheter tube snaked out to a bag hung on the side. And in all that sea of white and bruised flesh, the only recognizable parts of her were the fire engine-red nails that twitched on one pale hand atop the sheets.

Looking at the obvious damage made me wonder what internal damage had occurred, and as if in answer, her breathing stopped for a few seconds and one of the monitors began to beep urgently. A nurse ran in and checked Sharon’s tube, and then she breathed again, raggedly, as if she were fighting for breath at the end of a race. The beeping stopped and an eyelid twitched. The nurse looked at me and shook her head.

“Will she make it?” I whispered as she started to leave.

The nurse looked from Sharon to me. “I can’t say.” And with that enigmatic comment, she turned and left the room.

I walked closer to the bedside, threading my way through the tubes, and reached for her free hand. She felt cold and limp. I rubbed the back of her hand with my thumb.

“Sharon?” I leaned over her. “Sharon?”

She opened one eye, just barely, and tried to focus. “Claaa,” she tried to say.

“I’m here.”

“Take ’Vette.”

“What?” Of all the things I thought she might say, this was not it.

She tried again, slowly. “Take Yvette. Raise her.”

“Sharon, I can’t…I mean, Drake and I aren’t…we’re not—”

“Take her. You. Drake.” She started gasping, fighting to get the words out. The beeping started again and I heard footsteps. “For her. For ’Vette.”

She choked in earnest, her hand trying to claw at the tube in her throat. I backed away from the bed, trying to get out of the way, as two nurses and a doctor ran into the room. I turned and walked back to the waiting room. Both Suzie and Yvette slept in the men’s arms, blissfully unaware of the life-and-death struggle in the next room. Drake raised his eyebrows, wordlessly questioning.

“I don’t know,” I said. “She’s having trouble breathing. The doctor and nurses are with her now.”

I sat down beside him, but none of us said anything. Soon, however, the doctor came out. He looked at us and shook his head.

“I’m very sorry,” he said. “We did everything we could.”

We sat there, stunned. I vaguely heard the doctor say he would inform the policeman on guard, and that he would send up their funeral arranger whenever we were ready.

Drake turned to me. “Would you and Paul mind taking the girls home? The girls don’t need to be here now, and I can handle this.”

“Of course. Are you sure you don’t need me?”

He paused, then kissed my forehead. “I need you more than ever, but not for this.”

I reached up and touched his face, careful not to wake Yvette. “I’m here.”

“I know.” His eyes filled. “I know.”

Chapter Sixteen

Drake

The funeral arrangements for Sharon took about an hour, and the police another. After a quick check-in with my attorney, I was more than ready to leave.

Sharon’s bombshell outweighed my thoughts on her death. She wanted us, Claire and me, to raise her daughter. As bad a mother as she’d been, she must have recognized that Yvette had been happy with us. I was willing—more than willing as it happened—but I needed one key player, one I still wasn’t sure I could recruit.

I had already shared Sharon’s request with Paul. He wasn’t as shocked as I’d thought he’d be. I had even expected outrage, but as he freely acknowledged, they had only seen Yvette twice in her life and were too old to raise another child.

“You were always a good friend to Miles, Drake,” he said. We sipped coffee together in the great room back at the house, while Claire settled the girls in for their naps. “We welcomed your influence on him, truth to tell. Miles was always…Miles. We knew that. We had hoped when he married and had a family, he would settle down. Obviously, that didn’t happen.” He gazed out the window at the spectacular view of the Tetons, then back at me. “You like fatherhood.”

He said it as a statement, not a question, and I smiled. “I love it. I can’t imagine life without Suzie now. And our time with Yvette has been very special. We’ve fallen in love with her too.”

“We?”

“Claire and I.”

“Are you two married?”

“Well, no.”

“Are you going to be?”

“We haven’t really discussed it. We’ve both had some bad—”

He interrupted, waving my words aside. “You’re young, Drake, and so is she. Do you feel the same way about her that you did about your first wife?”

It was hard now to remember how I’d felt for Wanda. She had been beautiful and funny, and I had wanted her—but Claire I needed. And if she didn’t feel the same, I’d be devastated.

“No. It’s much more than that.”

“Could you live without her?”

“No.”

“Could she live without you?”

That stopped me. I hoped not, but I feared that if I asked her to stay, she’d balk. Too much, too soon, too scared. She had already come so far, my phoenix, but like me, she knew the conflagration and feared more ashes in her future.

“I don’t know.”

“Then find out. If you can convince Claire to stay, I’ll let you keep Yvette, as long as we have visiting rights. We haven’t been very good grandparents in the past, but we have time to change that now.”

Yes, he had time. But I was painfully aware that my time with Claire had just grown that much shorter and that much more important.

I ordered pizza for dinner on my way home from dropping Paul at his hotel. At home, the girls were quiet and clingy, neither wanting to be far away from the other or from Claire or me. I felt the same way about them, so it was no burden to have one or the other on my lap at any given time during the evening. Claire was also quiet, and I caught her watching me several times, her face troubled, but after the last few days, I couldn’t imagine that she wouldn’t be. She was sensitive and caring, and probably more disturbed than she let on, trying to keep a calm façade for the girls. It wasn’t until we were in bed that I finally had a chance to talk with her.

I was nervous. I hadn’t expected that, but I was. It was more important than ever to convince her to stay with me, but I was so scared. I watched her in silence as she washed her face and put on her nightgown, feeling my desire leap as I watched her raise her arms above her head, my hands aching to touch those lush curves, her heavy breasts. But we needed to talk first.

Finally, she slid in next to me, her graceful hand splayed on my chest. I covered her hand with mine and took a deep breath.

“Claire?”

“Hmmm?” she mumbled into my chest.

“About what Sharon said…” I felt her tense. Shit.

“Yes.”

“What did you think about it?”

“I don’t know. What did she say to you?”

“I assume the same thing she said to you. She asked me to raise Yvette—with you.”

A long silence.

“Well?”

“That’s what she said to me too.”

“What do you think?”

“What do
you
think?”

Talk about running in circles. I squeezed her hand on my chest, closed my eyes, and with a deep breath, I leapt. “I’m going to make a hash of this, but I want you to know even before Sharon asked me to I wanted to and I think we could be really good together and for the girls and I know this is hard for you and way too fast and you think our worlds are too different, but I really want you to come home with me.”

I was babbling. I never babbled.

Silence.

“So you want to hire me as a nanny?”

“No. I want you to marry me.”

Another long silence.

“For the girls?” She pulled her hand away from me. Not good.

“Yes, but—”

“A nanny would be cheaper.”

“Claire, that’s not—”

“Or a housekeeper. Don’t you already have one?” Her voice sounded distant, clipped, hurt.

“Claire, let me finish.”

She rolled away and left the bed, wrapping her robe around her, her back to me.

“Where are you going?”

“To my room.”

“I thought this was your room.”

“No.”

“Claire.” I sat up. “Don’t do this. You don’t understand.”

She whipped around at me, as angry as I’d ever seen her. I’d royally fucked this up, and as usual, I had no clue how. But the look on her face tore at me.

“I understand plenty, Drake Driscoll. I love those little girls too, God knows, but you don’t understand
me
.
He
said lots of things too, anything he thought would make life easy for him. So now you want your cake and eat it too, is that it? And I’m convenient. Get the official wife who cares about your girls, so you can still go your merry way and screw everything in skirts that catches your fancy. I’ll be there to make sure things get
taken care of
—isn’t that how you first described your plans for Suzie to me? And what about me?
Me
?”

She hit her chest and then whirled, heading for the door. I barely caught her before she reached the handle and jerked her into my arms.

“Claire, stop. You’ve got this all wrong.” She struggled against me, and I shook her. I had to make her listen, make her see. “I love you. Want you. Need you. How can you think for a moment it’s just the girls?”

She stilled, searching my face, but for what I wasn’t sure. What did love or need look like? Or sincerity? I felt all those things, but it was as if she studied me with a different alphabet. The words were there, but she simply couldn’t read them.

“I love you, Claire. Truly. I don’t want to leave here without you, or go back to that half-life. These days with you—I can’t let you go. Don’t you see? Don’t you feel it too?”

I was whispering into her hair, holding her to me as tightly as I could. If I could have slipped her inside me or tied her to me, I would.

Finally, she raised her head and studied my face again. She cupped my jaw, and I kissed her palm. She let out a rattling breath and dropped her forehead against my chest, defeated.

“I do love you, Drake, but I’m terrified. I can’t marry you, not like this. I would never know whether you married me for me or for the girls. I can’t do it. I
won’t
do it. I won’t be used, not again.”

“But I won’t use you, Claire. Whether we keep Yvette or not, I still need you. But if we marry now, we can have each other
and
Yvette and Suzie. We’ll be a family. I know the timing’s not ideal, but I can’t help that. I know I love you, and I’m not Jim.” She sucked in a breath. “I’ve been betrayed before too. I know how it feels. And I would never, ever do that to you.”

Claire’s face crumpled before my eyes. “God, Drake. I wish…” She backed away from me, shaking her head. “No. No.” Then she ran from the room.

I sat on the edge of the bed and buried my face in my hands. Could this get any worse? I felt sucked dry, a husk, waiting for the next wind of fate to blow me away. What had I said? What could I have said to make her stay?

I was too worn out to think, but too upset to sleep. I slid under the covers, her heat already diminishing, her lingering scent teasing me. There must be a way to convince her.

And suddenly, an idea occurred to me, or at least a dim spark of an idea. Claire was wrong. She was tied to us whether she liked it or not, but I didn’t want her to go all the way home before she figured it out. I had a plan. It was lame and clumsy—possibly dim-witted—but I was desperate. I had to fight for Claire with every weapon at my disposal—even little two-legged ones.

I was up before Claire in the morning. I had the girls dressed, fed and briefed before she came into the kitchen. Yvette seemed no different than usual, quiet and subdued, and I hoped my plan would help keep her occupied too. Claire looked tired, her eyes red rimmed, whereas I felt invigorated.

“I’ll make breakfast,” she said, moving toward the kitchen. She didn’t look at me, but at the girls, who smirked at her from the table. Who knew three-year-olds could smirk? I had to suppress a smile.

“We’ve already eaten,” I said, “but there’s some for you. Let me fix you a plate.”

“No, that’s okay. I’ll get it.” She walked over to the plate on the counter, and I saw her pick up the bottle of glue beside it, then put it down again, puzzled. The girls giggled.

Claire lifted the glue and wiggled it back and forth at Suzie as she sat down. “What’s up with the glue?”

Suzie looked at me and then leaned in to stage whisper to Claire. “It’s a game.”

“A game?”

“Uh hunh. We’re going to leave you clues all day and you have to figure out what they mean.” She pointed at the glue in Claire’s hand. “That’s the first one, right, Daddy?”

Claire and Suzie looked at me and I nodded. “That’s right.”

Claire gazed at me for a moment or two longer, a thoughtful expression on her face, and a flicker of hope lit in my chest. Then she turned back to Suzie.

“Girls, would one of you put this glue back, please?” She held it out, and Suzie took it.

“Sure, Miss Claire.”

Yvette giggled again. Claire looked at her and raised an eyebrow, clearly suspicious, then shrugged. She looked too miserable to care. I wanted to hold her, but I knew I had to be patient. The battle had just begun.

Our campaign began in earnest after breakfast. When Claire sat down to read, a twist tie was her bookmark. By her toothbrush, a stapler. On the washing machine, a roll of masking tape. Inside the sheets, a coil of rope. By her placemat, a needle and thread. On the newspaper at the front door, a hammer and nail. In her boots, a screw. In her pocket, a button.

She never said anything, but I studied her face and watched her try to puzzle out the different objects. The girls stalked her, too afraid of missing her finding another clue, and burst into delighted giggles every time. A sad little smile hovered near her lips at the end of the day, but I wasn’t sure what that meant. Maybe something, maybe nothing. But if she had figured it out, she didn’t tell any of us.

My stratagem did distract Yvette. There were moments when a look of uncertainty clouded her face, but I hovered over her, watchful, and a hug and a kiss seemed to be enough to clear the skies. I’d always heard children were resilient, and Yvette proved it.

My own hopes were low, however. When the girls pestered Claire that night for an answer, Claire claimed that she still didn’t know what the clues meant. Claire and I slept apart again that night, and I ached for her.

The next day, a small memorial service was held for Miles and Sharon. Paul would take Miles’s ashes home to bury, and I would take Sharon’s, so Yvette would be able to visit her mother’s grave. Most of Jason’s guests had stayed for the service, but all agreed the party was over, and many planned to leave Jackson later that day. Jason walked up to me after the service.

“Drake.” He reached out his hand and I shook it. “I’m sorry about Miles and Sharon. The whole mess, well, it’s such a damn shame.” He shook his head.

“Thank you. You at least saw this disaster coming.”

He snorted. “Fat lot of good that did. I still couldn’t prevent it.” He gazed across the room at his wife. “When it comes to love, we all seem to lose our minds.” He grinned weakly and seemed lost in thought. I sensed a story there from his own past, but now didn’t seem the time.

He squared his shoulders and looked at me again, shrewdly this time. “I wanted to catch you before you left. The board has decided to go with your security proposal. We’ll be in touch after the New Year. It will be a huge account. You sure you’re prepared to handle it?”

“More than sure. That’s excellent news. Thank you.” Ordinarily, I’d be ecstatic, but now I could hardly remember the purpose of this trip. It seemed a tiny blip in comparison to all that had happened.

I had learned so much, thanks to Claire and Yvette, and yes, even Miles and Sharon. Life was short and precious and full of pain, but love, children, trust—those were the important things. I had worked hard for my business, but when I thought about losing any of my girls, the business hardly factored into my life. Some things you want, but some you need. I knew that now.

Jason saw me looking at Claire, and some of what I was thinking must have shown on my face. He clapped a hand on my shoulder and nodded approvingly. “You’ve got your priorities straight, Drake. That’s what tipped my vote to you and your offer. When a man keeps his head straight about what’s important, I can trust him. You’ve proven that to all of us.”

I watched as his gaze settled on Yvette across the room. She was in Claire’s arms, her head against Claire’s shoulder, sucking her fingers. Claire swayed with her in her arms, and I imagined her holding our child for a moment, gentling our child to sleep in that instinctive comforting rock all mothers seemed to know. Claire must have sensed our attention. She looked up and caught us watching. She looked down at Yvette’s head and kissed her. I mouthed “Is she okay?” across the room, and Claire briefly nodded. Then she looked down at Suzie, who had asked her something, and squeezed her hand in answer. They were my family, everything important to me. If only I could make Claire realize it.