| |
“She’s terrified, Dad.”
Damien sat Max on his knee and glanced across the dining table at Stevie. Still pale, the worry in her eyes hadn’t eased overnight. On the drive back from the cottage, she’d confided in him that she thought Penny wasn’t coping. It seemed she thought the same thing this morning as bacon sizzled in the fry pan. He watched her crack eggs into another pan and noticed a slight tremor in her hands.
On any given day, his daughter was a vision of strength. Not this morning. He knew she’d been up most of the night trying to settle the boy now gurgling happily with a soggy piece of toast in his tiny fist. Coupled with the queasiness the pregnancy had left her with, she looked shattered. Stevie was an image of pure and utter exhaustion, but that didn’t mean he disagreed with her.
“I know.”
Every now and then, when Penny thought no one saw, an expression would flash across her face, as if it was all too much. If he thought about it from her perspective, he understood. She’d thought both he and Stevie had died, destroying any hope of a reunion between them. She’d probably never had to consider what she would feel or say if she came face to face with them.
Not only did she now have him, she had her daughter. Too many times, she looked lost for words, out of explanations and grasping at straws. What bothered him the most was her level of discomfort. He didn’t understand it. He wanted to find a way to negate it. About the only time he’d seen it fall away was when they reminisced with memories from the past.
“She needs to see a counsellor.”
He nodded, aware that Colt had already arranged for Penny to see one who specialized in dealing with trauma. With the session scheduled for ten o’clock, he planned to visit Penny afterward, but he couldn’t explain away the uncertainty it raised in him. She’d opened up to him about events but had stopped shy of exploring the feelings associated with their unexpected family reunion.
To be fair, he’d done the same.
“You both do,” Stevie offered. “It must have been hard for you, learning she was still alive.”
He smiled. “You should know.”
She shook her head. “You both tried to protect me and I accept that, but in doing so, she left you. You thought she loved you. That has to hurt.”
Max clapped his hands together, sending bits of soggy toast everywhere. A spot landed on Damien’s cheek but the kid giggled with the kind of childish innocence that was contagious.
He wouldn’t lie. Penny’s actions went against everything he thought they’d built. They undermined the trust and respect he thought they shared, and though her intentions were commendable, the lived experience was vastly different. He understood the way fear sometimes twisted perception and influenced actions, and it was no secret intense terror drove her to an extreme conclusion. He also knew he couldn’t change the past.
“It did,” he admitted, hugging Max to his chest. “But I won’t hold it against her, or we don’t stand a chance.”
Stevie crossed to the table with a frypan in hand and slid eggs onto his plate. When she returned a second time, she forked bacon on top of the eggs. It continued to sizzle as the toaster on the counter popped. She added toast to his plate, reaching for Max. Damien waved her away, hoping like hell he could manage the feast with one hand occupied by the squirming child.
“What are you hoping for, Dad?” She settled on the seat opposite.
His heart ached at her question. Was it too much to want his wife back? “I want her to be happy. I want you to have your mum.”
She sent a sad smile his way and touched his hand. “You are a sentimental old man, and I love you for it.”
All he heard were the words she didn’t say. Sentimental old fool, living in the past. He still loved Penny but it had occurred to him the woman he loved and the one he’d rescued were two very different people.
“This is all too complicated,” he explained.
“Maybe it doesn’t have to be,” she suggested. “Maybe we both need to recognize that we need to get to know who she is now.”
A conclusion he’d already come to, but he nodded all the same. Before he could say anything else, Riley entered the room and swept Max into his arms. The babe giggled and gurgled as Riley held him overhead and cooed at his son. Settling the boy onto his hip, Riley moved to Stevie’s side and felt her forehead.
“Still too warm,” he hummed, glancing at Damien. “Make her get some rest.”
Because either of them had so much influence over the stubborn Stevie. “You didn’t mention a fever.”
She dismissed them with a wave of her hand, but she was off her game. Still dressed in her pajamas, she wasn’t fooling anyone. “I’m just tired.”
Damien frowned at her. Pigheadedness aside, he wished she looked after herself better. “Slow down,” he urged. “Take it easy. You’ll do no one any good by falling ill.”
She downed some orange juice and smiled. “I have super powers, remember? I won’t be ill for long.”
He refrained from further comment but he doubted the antidote that had been released in her system two years prior was still effective. Not that he had definitive confirmation, but it had only ever been intended as a short-term solution to a deadly toxin.
Remembering the saga that had brought them all back together was bittersweet for Damien. The danger she’d been in had forced him out of hiding, and—unbeknownst to him—had revealed Penny’s whereabouts to the Mustangs. Without any of it, they might never have come back together.
Damien stood, rounded the table and pulled Stevie up to her feet. Dragging her into his arms, he felt her sag against him and was sure she was sicker than she let on.
“Come on,” he insisted, turning her around. “Back to bed for you. I’m ordering you to stay there until I say different.”
He led her upstairs to her room and tucked her into bed. She stared up at him, her eyes wet with unspent tears. “Now I know she’s alive, I feel her absence more. Is that weird?”
Pressing his hand to her forehead, he shook his head. “I know what you mean. You need a doctor.”
“I am a doctor.” Her weak attempt to swipe his hand away scared him. “I’ll be fine.”
He didn’t agree. “Sleep. Rest. I’ll check on you soon.”
In the hall outside her room, he made a call to Colt Manning. “Mate, can you make another house call?”
“Is Max okay?”
Come to think of it, the kid had felt warm, too. “It’s Stevie, though he might be coming down with something as well.”
“On my way.”
Downstairs, he returned to the kitchen to find Riley trying to coax Max to drink his bottle. He looked as worried as Damien felt. Waving his phone in the air, he announced he’d called for the doc and noted the relief on Riley’s face. He sat at the table and ate his bacon and eggs.
“Did I make the right decision, taking Stevie to Penny last night?”
Riley’s eyebrows rose. “Yeah, you did. Imagine trying to stop her once she knew her mum was back? My wife’s a hurricane, remember?”
“Maybe it was too soon.”
“Maybe, maybe not. Everything is out in the open now and you can all figure things out.”
“And what if I can’t figure things out?”
Riley cradled Max, who’d become sleepy. “One way or another, you will. That’s what you do and we all love you for it.”
Why did they all keep saying that to him? “Between you and me, I don’t know if it’s possible this time.”
Riley trailed fingertips over the boy’s forehead to lull him into sleep. “Keep an open mind and you might be surprised. You, Penny and Stevie all deserve to be happy. Tell me, is there still a connection between you and Penny?”
He thought so.
“Then you begin there. Baby steps, Damien. Be patient with both of you.”
On arrival, Colt examined Max first, diagnosing a low-grade fever and prescribing some ibuprofen. He then followed Damien upstairs to tend to Stevie, but stopped at the door to her room.
“Damien, I really must tell you that Penny is going to need a lot of support and care.”
“I understand.”
Colt frowned. “Some of the things she witnessed were...” He looked to be searching for the right word.
“Horrific?”
“Yes. She’s a very strong woman but also quite fragile in some ways. She has all the hallmarks of PTSD.”
It didn’t surprise him but he wished he’d seen them sooner. “What are you trying to tell me, Doc?”
Colt sighed. “Be gentle with her. Show her kindness and patience. She won’t say it, but I think she’s quite overwhelmed by everything. Just be there for her.”
Damien smiled. “I plan to.”
In the bedroom, they found Stevie in such a deep sleep they couldn’t rouse her. Colt became too worried too quickly, and it didn’t take much of an assessment for him to want to admit her to hospital.
Seeing his daughter in the grip of illness and unable to do a thing about it left Damien feeling more helpless than he’d ever been in his life.
“It’s just a fever, right?”
Colt took out his phone and called for an ambulance. “Hopefully, but she’s pregnant and those two are never a good mix. It’s a good thing you called sooner rather than later.”