Chapter Fifteen
Timothy
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I MADE MY WAY THROUGH the gate, heading to talk to John at his shop. It was a little old-fashioned to have to get the father’s approval to date his daughter. I knew he didn’t think I was good enough for his daughter. Rather, he thought I thought I was too good. I understood I came into town with my money and flashy car and didn’t make a great first impression.
He was taking care of his daughter. That I respected. After what Scott did to her, I understood why he was even more protective of her. But I planned on proving to him I was serious about her. I wasn’t going to leave her. She grounded me. I knew it would take some time for me to prove I was sticking around, but I was in this for the long run. John would have to see it to believe it. I would prove it to him over and over until he realized it was real. Yes, Catherine and I came from different worlds, but I wanted to be in her world.
Moving in together was a big step, one that I had been thinking about for a while now. I knew that Catherine had been hesitant, but I believed we were both on the same page. And it was a good move, for her father. He could move into her house. I knew she hated the idea of him living in that tiny apartment.
I parked my car and walked into the shop. John was hunched over a workbench. “John,” I called out.
He straightened and turned to look at me. I noticed something was off. John looked a little flushed and unwell, and his movements seemed slower than usual. I was immediately concerned.
“Hey, John,” I said, my voice filled with concern. “Are you feeling okay?”
John glanced up at me, his expression tight with tension. “I’m fine,” he replied, his tone gruff. “Just busy, that’s all.”
But I could see through the facade. Something was wrong. “Can I get you anything?” I asked.
“No, no,” he said and waved a hand. “I’m fine.”
He sure as hell didn’t look fine. “What are you working on?” I asked casually.
He grunted and waved at something. His pallor was very gray. He didn’t look right, but how did I tell him he looked like shit? He was a tough guy and would not appreciate me suggesting he was weak or suffering. I had to tread lightly.
Before I could press him further, however, Luke walked into the shop. He looked from me to John. Luke jerked his head, indicating he wanted me to go outside with him. “I’ll be back in a minute, John,” I said. “I’d like to talk with you if you have a few minutes.”
John grunted but said nothing. I followed Luke outside. “What’s up?”
“We need to talk.”
“What’s going on?” I asked again. Luke’s expression made me very concerned.
Luke hesitated for a moment. “John’s been ill the last couple of days,” he admitted, his voice low. “He’s been moving slow, and he’s been really stressed out about the whole Henry and Catherine situation.”
“What do you mean?” I asked.
He shook his head. “He’s just been talking a lot about regrets and how he wishes Catherine wouldn’t have gone into carpentry. He blames himself. He says he tried to tell her not to go into the business but she did it anyway. He’s worried she’s going to face more men like Henry that are going to give her a hard time and he won’t be around to protect her.”
I let out a slow breath, taking in the enormity of the situation. No wonder John had been on edge; he was worried for his daughter’s future, and his health wasn’t helping. I looked back at Luke. “Does Catherine know?”
“He didn’t want her to worry,” Luke replied, looking uneasy. “But I think she’ll notice if she comes by to get on him about his diet.”
“She’s going to haul his ass into the doctor,” I said with a laugh.
“Yeah, John didn’t raise a wilting flower,” he said with a smile. “I tried to tell him Catherine can handle herself, but he doesn’t want to hear it. He feels like he should have been on the job with her. She’s not ready to be on a job by herself and so on.”
“Tell me something,” I said, folding my arms across my chest. “What do you think? You’re there in the thick of things with all those guys. Do they treat her badly?”
“No.” Luke shook his head. “I have to admit, I’ve never seen so many burly guys treat a young, beautiful woman with such respect. I think they all see her as their sister, mother, or daughter. They look out for her.”
“That’s what I saw as well,” I said. “I think John realizes his little girl is growing up.”
Luke shrugged. “We all see it. But John’s still stuck in the past. He can’t see Catherine as anything but the little girl who used to follow him around the shop.”
I nodded, my thoughts turning to Catherine. I knew she was strong-willed and capable, but I also understood John’s fears. She was venturing into uncharted waters, a world dominated by men with attitudes often as hard as the wood she worked with. As a father of a young woman, I understood John’s concerns. Maybe I could appeal to him on that shared connection. I decided then and there that I would do what I could to support her. Not because she needed saving or protecting, but because she deserved every opportunity to succeed.
“It would be hard,” I said.
“What brought you by, anyway?” Luke asked.
“I need to talk to him,” I said.
“Did Catherine read you the riot act for kicking Henry’s ass?”
I laughed. “No, not too much. She wasn’t happy, and I will never try to be her hero again.”
“I’m surprised she hasn’t been here,” Luke said.
“I think she’s been busy with Henry’s house,” I said. “And I’ll tell you now, she’s going to be moving in. That’s why I’m here. Catherine is moving in with me. She wants John to live in her house. She’s busting ass trying to finish the kitchen and living room so he can move right in.”
“Congratulations.” He smiled. “You’re a lucky man. Wish I had seen her first.”
I chuckled. “But I did, and I don’t share.”
“Understood.”
“All right, I’m going to talk to the man,” I said. “I know he was rooting for you, but I’m not going anywhere.”
Luke grinned. “Yeah, sorry about that.”
“No worries.”
“Are you headed out?” I asked.
“I’m just picking up a few things and headed over to the site,” he said. “The sooner I get this job done, the better. I’m about done with Henry. I’ve stayed away, but I need to finish up because I will be getting paid.”
“Good luck,” I said. “Don’t take his bait. He’s going to try and goad you into a fight.”
“One of the guys called and said he left town.” Luke grinned.
“Good. He can stay gone.”
I walked back into the shop. John was once again leaning against his workbench.
“John?”
Something was wrong. He wasn’t moving. His body was rigid, like he was in pain.
I walked toward him. “John?”
He turned to face me. His face was a sickly gray. I saw him pleading for help with his eyes a second before he grabbed his chest with his right hand. A split-second later, he crumpled in front of me. It was like his legs turned to jelly. He went down hard. Everything happened in slow motion. I ran to him, but it felt like my legs were filled with lead. I couldn’t move fast enough. His head hit the ground. Panic surged through me as I rushed to his side, my heart pounding in my chest.
“John!” I called out, my voice filled with desperation. “John, can you hear me?”
But there was no response. John lay unconscious on the ground, his breathing shallow and labored. Fear gripped my heart as I realized that something was seriously wrong.
“Luke!” I called out, my voice shaking with fear. “Call an ambulance! Now!”
I heard footsteps running behind me. “Oh shit!” Luke’s voice was laced with the same fear I felt. “What happened?”
“Call nine-one-one!”
Luke sprang into action, his fingers flying over his phone as he called for help. I knelt beside John, a sense of helplessness washing over me. I had never felt so powerless, so utterly terrified. I had taken CPR, but that was years ago. I didn’t know if I could do it.
I HAD to do it.
I knew it was a heart attack. All the symptoms were there.
“John, you have to stay awake,” I pleaded, my voice firm. “You can’t leave Catherine like this. You have to fight.”
To my relief, John stirred slightly, his hand reaching out to grab hold of my shirt. “Promise me, Timothy,” he whispered, his voice barely audible. “Promise me you’ll take care of her.”
“I promise,” I said, my voice choked with emotion. “I’ll take care of her, John. I swear. But you’re going to be fine. Just stay awake. The ambulance is on the way.”
I could hear Luke talking into his phone as he paced back and forth. The silence was terrifying. The only sound was Luke’s low voice providing information to the dispatcher. Time seemed to stretch into eternity as we waited. Every breath John struggled to take told me things were dire.
John’s eyes were losing focus, his grip on my shirt slackening. I knew we were running out of time.
“No, John,” I said, my voice shaky despite my best efforts to keep it steady. “Stay with me.”
His lips moved, but no sound came out. I leaned in closer trying to catch what he was saying, but I couldn’t understand a word. His grip tightened once more on my shirt, the desperation in his eyes clear as day. And then he was out.
“John!” I gently shook his shoulder. “John! Don’t you dare! You stay with me. Catherine will kick my ass if you die on me! Wake up! John! Fight! Fight for her!”
A faint wail in the distance told me the cavalry was coming. Soon, the wailing was replaced by tires on gravel. Two paramedics rushed to John’s side, taking over where I had held vigil, their practiced hands making quick work of checking his pulse, starting an IV line, and fitting him with an oxygen mask.
I stepped away, allowing them to do their work, my heart pounding like a drum in my chest. Luke stood next to me, his hands shaking as he ended his call to the dispatcher. “Holy hell, Timothy,” he breathed, running a trembling hand through his hair. “This is so bad.”
“I know,” I replied, my eyes never leaving the flurry of activity around John.
There was an agonizing sense of helplessness as we watched the paramedics work. Every passing second seemed to stretch out into eternity. John lay there, his face ghostly pale against the stark white sheets they’d spread under him.
I felt Luke’s hand on my shoulder. “They’re doing their best,” he said quietly. “John’s tough, he’ll pull through.”
He was trying to offer comfort, but his words didn’t reach me. My mind was spinning. “I have to call Catherine.”
“Maybe you should go to her,” Luke suggested quietly. “She probably shouldn’t drive.”
“What do I tell her?” I asked.
I honestly didn’t know if John was alive or dead. The paramedics were frantically working. John lay perfectly still. I didn’t know if he was breathing.
“Let’s go!” One of the paramedics said as they raised the stretcher and rushed past us.
“Call her,” Luke said. “I have a feeling every minute matters.”