She Hates Me Not: A Richer in Love Romance (17 page)

By the time she finished praying, it had already arrived.  A mountainous form consumed the opened doorway, darkening the rear half of the cabin like a raincloud covered the sun.  Without entering, the mountain extended its arms.  A firecrackery pop made Lou jump.

Lurching forward, the Acadian yelped.  Shock distorted his face as his muscles convulsed until every bit of him stiffened.  He collapsed, pinning Lou beneath his wiry frame.

Lou heard her head smack the cabin floor.  While the walls and ceiling turned somersaults, she fought to breathe beneath the Acadian’s weight.  The stench of ozone mingled with tobacco.

Finally, someone lifted the
voyou
free.  Finally, Lou could inhale.

When she tried to sit up, Kip stopped her.  His hands pinned her shoulders.  His right arm still bled.  Again and again, he repeated Lou’s name like an old-timey broken record.  Kneeling on her left, Kip appeared more desperate than when the
voyou
had threatened her life.

Lou tried to comfort him.  “It’s okay,
cher
.  It’s okay.”

But it wasn’t, she could tell, from his panicked expression.  It was a face she didn’t know.

A dark shape consumed the right half of her view, and briefly Lou worried that the Acadian had returned.  But it was Yannick, Kip’s bodyguard, who sat on her bed and talked on a phone.  His words made no sense to Lou.  Puncture.  Abdomen.  Incised wound.

Kip took a pillow from Yannick and gently tucked it beneath Lou’s head.  Lie still, he told her, over and over.  Lie still.  Don’t move.  Help is coming.  His voice sounded a slight as a spider web.

So did hers when Lou spoke again.  “Where is he…the Acadian?”

“Unconscious and handcuffed on the rear deck.”  Kip’s fingers caressed her forehead, then settled in her hair.  “He won’t wake up before you’re safe.  Help is on the way, Lou.”

It’s already here, Lou wanted to say.  For no good reason, her eyes filled with tears as she remembered how Kip had arrived in her life – with
joie de vivre
and a Cajun waltz and a kiss beneath the stars.  He’d forgiven her for lying.  He hadn’t let her disappear.  Kip stood alongside her as Lou faced her fears, and he honored her wishes, no matter the risk.

But she was too tired to find the words.  A strange fatigue made her limbs feel flimsy.  A strange pressure made her left side throb.  Vertigo washed over her, soaking her senses.  Eyes closing, Lou drifted away.

L
ou awoke slowly beneath a layer of blankets that did not smell like home.  Sounds she knew well – but had no interest in hearing – emerged one by one from the silence.  Beeps.  Hisses.  Commanding voices muffled by closed doors.  An odd pressure pinched the top of her right hand.

To her left, windows lined one wall of the unfamiliar room.  Through the glass Lou glimpsed a summertime sky as blue as any she’d seen.  Rounded hilltops decorated the lower half of its pane.  The scene looked more like a postcard than a view from a hospital.  Despite that, Lou wasn’t fooled.

Seated beside the windows, Kip Richmond stared at a tablet.  Kip Richmond.  At her bedside.  He reclined on a bench chair designed for two, his socked feet propped on its arm.  Pillows supported his back.  Empty go-cups from a popular coffee shop lined the windowsill.

When Lou shifted, Kip sprang upward.  Tossing the tablet on the bench’s seat, he grabbed another chair from the corner and anchored it next to the bed.  His grin was euphoric.  Elated and relieved.  Wanting to hug him, Lou just stared.

“You’ve been asleep since Wednesday,” Kip said.  “The nurses were starting to worry.”

So was Kip, she could see.  When his hand encased Lou’s upturned palm, she couldn’t summon the energy to clasp it.  The warmth of his skin, and his tempting scent, offset the room’s sterile fixtures.

A hand and a glove.

Kip brimmed with the vitality Lou couldn’t find.  A bandage covered his right forearm.  Stitches formed a tangled trail above his left eyebrow.  That scar would be with him forever – and with Lou, too, if she allowed it.

She coughed to clear her dry, tight throat.  “What hospital is this?”

“The Queen Elizabeth in Birmingham.  Do you recall what happened on the Evangeline?”

Lou did.  A little too clearly.  Instead of replying, she studied Kip’s face.  His gaze was still playful but strained with fatigue.  He hadn’t shaved in several days.

He also looked mildly concerned.  “You remember me, don’t you?”

“Of course I do.”  She managed a smile.  “You’re Clyde, right?”

He laughed with relief.  “Only when I’m working.”

Feeling more alert, Lou examined her room.  It was private, thank goodness, and not in a ward lined with beds and see-through curtains.  Through an interior window that faced the hallway, Lou could see a hulking shape hovering near the door.  Not a doctor or nurse.  Yannick, maybe?

“What day is it?” she asked Kip.

“Friday.  They took you into the operating theatre on Wednesday evening.”

“Am I okay?”

“You are now.  There was a bit of internal damage, and you lost a fair amount of blood.”

Knowing how much Brits downplayed a disaster, Lou figured it must have been bad.  Bad enough to need surgery.  She’d get the full story on her condition when the doctor came in.

Kip held on tightly, mooring himself to her bedside.  His second hand joined the first to encompass Lou’s, his fingers massaging hers with feathery strokes.  He wanted to talk and was trying to be patient.  Lou loved him for the effort.  She also let him off the hook with a question.

“How did Yannick find us?  How did he know?  We weren’t near the pub, and it wasn’t four o’clock.”

“He showed early, as he often does.  When he found my bags, but not me, at the Penny Whistle, he sent me a text – which I couldn’t read since my phone was in the river.  Whilst I enjoy ignoring my mother, I never ignore Yannick.  It’s an understanding between us all.  If he sends any of us a message, we reply within five minutes.  If we don’t, he investigates.”

“Makes sense,” Lou murmured.  “And when you didn’t text back…”

“He came in search of us.  Not to intrude, of course.”

“He was just doing his job.”

Kip nodded.  “He found the Evangeline and waited outside until he heard our voices.  Narrowboats are not soundproof, apparently.”

“
Merci bon Dieu
,” Lou replied.  “What about the Acadian?”

“He appears in magistrates’ court on Monday.  My mother has marshalled all available resources, and if she has her way – which she always does – then he’ll never see the light of day again.  Extradition to the U.S. is a possibility, but it won’t spare him any penalty.”

“Does your mama know you’re here?”

“Yes.”  He offered a confident grin.

“And she doesn’t mind?”

“Well, look what the cat dragged onto the mat!”

A familiar voice pulled Lou from the brink of panic.  Beryl entered the room with Moggie right behind.  Both appeared almost as weary as Kip who greeted them each by name.

Accepting their kisses, Lou blinked back her tears. 

Moggie’s eyes were just as misty.  “Well, you were right, Lou, although I wish you hadn’t been.  And you, Clyde, were right where you needed to be.”

He looked proud of that fact.  “Still am.”

“Who’s at the café?” Lou asked.

Beryl patted Lou’s unoccupied hand.  “We’re shut today, duck.  Family concerns.”

“But it’s a Friday in July.  You’re losing tons of money.  And who’s going to cook the specials on Tuesday?”

“We can manage,” Moggie promised.  “Your job now is to rest and get better.”

And what would her job be after that, Lou wondered.  Should she keep working at Imogens?  If she wanted to stay in Stratford, would Kip understand?  It was the only home Lou had known for years, and she didn’t want to leave it behind.  Not completely.

She loved her life on the river.  She loved her work.  She longed to know them both without fear.

Moggie seemed to sense her alarm.  “Steady on, Lou.  Count to three and breathe.”

Just as she calmed down, Lou was presented with another reason to panic.

Cell phone in hand, Lydia Richmond marched into the room.  Her stylish silk suit was a soft olive green.  Her voice was harder than petrified cypress wood.

“Hospital rules limit visitors to two persons.”  Lydia stared at Moggie and Beryl.  “I need to speak with Alouette.”

While Moggie looked amused by the not-so-subtle dismissal, Beryl lifted her chin.  Easygoing as she seemed, Beryl was a hippie with a temper and a territorial love for Lou.  She matched Lydia’s presumptive gaze with admirable force.

If a nurse walked in now to break up their party, Lou wasn’t sure who would leave.  She snuck a glance at Kip and found him wincing.  Even a small wedding might be too big for their families.

Maybe they could elope in New Orleans.  Get married in St. Louis Cathedral.  Honeymoon during Mardi Gras.  The idea wiped away all Lou’s worries, and she squeezed Kip’s hand to reassure him.

Lydia won the stare-down by a hair.  Before leaving, Beryl gave Lou another kiss.  She deliberately took her time.

“Get yourself well, duck.  Know that we love you.  And, Clyde – our busiest days are Thursday through Sunday, but you’re welcome any time.”

As Kip thanked her, Moggie tugged at Beryl’s sleeve.  “We’ll come back later.”

Beryl cast a sidelong glare at Lydia.  “Should we curtsey as we’re leaving?”

“Just don’t show her your back,” Moggie replied.

Tucking her phone into her purse, Lydia ignored them.  She probably ignored everyone in her life until she needed something.  That might not be so bad, Lou decided.  To turn up on Lydia Richmond’s radar wasn’t exactly fun.

When Yannick had shut the door, Lydia transitioned into what Lou guessed was her version of relaxed.  Her dissatisfied expression landed on Kip.  “Clyde?”

Perfectly he mimicked her face.  “You named me Kipling.  How is Clyde any worse?”

“That old chestnut.”  With a longsuffering sigh, Lydia shifted toward Lou.  “As of this moment, I am dissolving our contract.”

Uneasily Lou swallowed.  She needed a drink of water – and a whole lot of nerve.  “What about Amy?”

“Your sister may keep the money.  Consider it an early wedding gift.  Do not expect anything else.”

Lou found the strength to laugh at Lydia’s peculiar comment.  “What if Kip and I don’t get married?”

“Then Kipling will be disappointed.  My son very much wants to make you a part of our family.”

“What about you?”

Lydia hesitated.  “Kipling told me what happened on your boat.  It takes gumption to stand up to what makes us afraid, especially when it makes us unsafe.  You might have allowed my son to purchase your safety and so tarnished your family name.  But you chose the braver solution regardless of what risk it brought.”

Slack jawed, Lou couldn’t believe what she was hearing.  “So you’re gonna let Kip marry me because I stood up to that
voyou
?”

“Kipling does as he pleases.  It’s a family trait, to be sure.”  Amusement lightened Lydia’s features – briefly.  “But I feel no need to intervene any further between you and my son.  You may hate him or not.  As I said, our contract is dissolved.”

It was Lou’s turn to act dissatisfied.  “But we’ll get together for holidays, right?  Christmas.  Easter.  Birthdays.  Those won’t be the same without family.”

Lydia seemed utterly surprised by the question.  Lou understood why.  There was little space for affection and sentiment in Lydia Richmond’s cutthroat world.  On a daily basis, she joined the ranks of powerful people whose seven-figure paychecks came from doing battle with each other.  To act sappy was to appear weak.  Lou’s daddy had pretended to be that sort of man.

“Mother.”  Kip’s voice dropped an octave.  “Answer the question.”

Suspiciously she squinted.  “Will any of these holiday dos occur on that boat of yours?”

Lou grinned at Lydia’s affected disdain.  “I suppose we could negotiate about the location.  A house would be more comfortable once your grandkids come along.”

As her eyes widened ever so slightly, Lydia’s phone buzzed in her purse.  Removing it, she entered her passcode and read its screen. 

Lou checked Kip’s face.  He was beaming.  The idea of kids didn’t scare him in the slightest.  Neither did his oh-so-scary mama.

“Your brother will be up tomorrow,” Lydia announced.  “He wants to meet Alouette and see that you’re all right.  Do try to be available.”

Pivoting on her leather pumps, Kip’s mother left the room.  Yannick opened and closed the door but didn’t follow her down the hall.  The clack of her heels echoed through the corridor.  Her perfume lingered like a reminder that she could, at any moment, return.

“She’s not big on transitions, is she?” Lou asked.

Kip released his pealing laugh.  “No, she likes her world to stay black and white.  It helps her focus.  Keeps her steady.”

“But your daddy wasn’t like that?”

“Shades of grey all the way.  He loved the holidays.  And he would have loved your boat.”

When Kip rose up from his chair to kiss her, Lou sighed with delight.  The world was starting to blur again, and her left side ached more than a little.  But Lydia’s words – harsh as they sounded – held a compliment that Lou would never forget. 

“Are you still going to India?” she asked Kip when he’d sat back down.

He lifted a cup of water with a straw to Lou’s lips.  “I leave a week from Sunday, but I’ve shortened my trip.  And, if it’s all right with you, I’d like to arrange for others to help you whilst I’m away.  A car to take you back to Stratford, for instance, if I’m not here to drive you myself.”

For no good reason, Kip was acting sheepish, like he felt guilty for having a life.  Lou nipped that impulse in the bud.  “Do you like your job?”

“Yes,” he admitted.  “Very much.”

“Then you should do it.”

He exhaled with obvious relief.  “There’s also a bit of damage to the Evangeline.  Chiefly her carpets – which might should be replaced.  Their stains could be difficult to remove.  The lounge needs a good scrubbing, too.  And I may have broken your dining table.”

As Kip rambled, Lou read between the lines while she sipped.  To clean and repair the Evangeline, she would need to hire someone skilled.  Someone she couldn’t afford on her own.

“Do you mind taking care of all that?” she asked.

“Of course not.”  Kip set the cup of water aside.  “I want to take care of you, Lou.  And I want you to take care of me.  Will you?”

She gazed at his kiss-me-please face.  “I will.”

“And I promise to be patient.  Or at least to try.”

“And I promise not to be so afraid.”

“I have something that might help.”

Kip separated from her just long enough to grab a piece of paper from the windowsill.  Reclaiming Lou’s hand, he displayed the paper with his other.  It had been torn from that day’s edition of the
Birmingham
Mail
.

“I hope you don’t mind,” he added.  “I can be rather impulsive.”

Before reading, Lou teased him with a look.  “I’ll be hearing those words for the rest of my life, won’t I?”

“Absolutely,” Kip said.  “The daisy has spoken.”

RICHMOND HEIR THREATENED IN REAL-LIFE TREASURE HUNT