Chapter Twenty-Seven
The next five days were the longest of Alice’s life.
Jack had been put into an induced coma because the neurologist said it would reduce the brain’s metabolic demand and hopefully stabilize the bleeding.
Jack’s brain bleed was severe, and unless it could be controlled, it could lead to a seizure and permanent brain damage.
Keeping him in a controlled, sedated state was his best chance of survival.
At least she was allowed to remain in his room, which was a major concession since the first thing the hospital staff wanted to know was Jack’s next of kin.
Aside from a father he hadn’t seen in decades and a stepmother he never met, there was no one.
She scrolled through his cell phone, looking for an emergency contact, but came up empty.
The hospital let her stay, but with the recommendation that Alice contact Jack’s parents.
She did. A string of unanswered text messages from Jack’s stepmother were still on his phone, and she sent a brief message alerting Sophie to Jack’s condition.
She framed the message in the most positive terms possible, but as she looked at Jack in the center of the hospital bed, hooked up to monitors and beeping machines, it was hard to be optimistic.
He looked awful, with dark shadows beneath his eyes and a bruised, swollen lump at his temple.
The plastic neck brace kept his head immobile and a cannula was taped beneath his nose to supply supplemental oxygen.
His ankle looked hideous. The fall had caused an ankle sprain and the swelling in the joint had reached monstrous proportions.
The orthopedic surgeon warned this would cause cartilage damage and could ultimately require a joint replacement if it happened again.
Both of Jack’s arms were hooked up to IVs that dribbled drugs, nutrition, and most importantly, a steady supply of Factor VIII plasma to heal the internal damage to his brain.
The nurses said Jack might have some level of subconscious awareness and suggested Alice speak words of comfort to him. It was the reason she refused to leave his bedside.
“The greens look terrific,” she said. “The club’s new ground manager came by earlier today and said that three groups of golfers played a test round, and they all loved it.
” The waterfall was a mess and the ambulance left huge gouges in the greens that still needed repair, but Alice stuck to positive messages.
“The Roost is already being reassembled,” she continued.
“Zeke is sending me photographs. The fireplace and chimney are back in place, secured with brand-new mortar. They color-matched the mortar so it looks exactly like what was used before. The entire ground floor has been reassembled and the floors laid. They’re working on the second floor now. ”
It was hard to believe how quickly it was coming together.
Every board and stone had been numbered and erected exactly as before.
Additional logs that had been cut and stained to look like the original were added to the top of the first floor to raise the ceiling.
The second story would require new flooring to be up to code, and it would be finished this week.
When she ran out of things to say, she turned up the volume on the PGA tournament playing on the television mounted in the corner of his room. It was probably her imagination, but it seemed Jack rested a little easier with those calm, soothing voices of the golf announcers.
It was during those times when the golf announcers took over that Alice scrolled through Jack’s cell phone.
At first she felt horribly guilty, like she was snooping …
but that phone had been vibrating with incoming texts from his business partners in Japan.
She sent noncommittal answers, saying a medical emergency would keep Jack unavailable for the following week, but he would return their messages as soon as possible.
Her own phone vibrated, and Daisy’s name appeared on the screen.
Things had been tense between them ever since Daisy suggested the signet ring found at the Roost might belong to the Tuckers.
They also needed to discuss Jack’s bill at the hotel.
Alice didn’t want him to overhear anything troublesome, and stepped into the hallway to take the call.
“How’s he doing today?” Daisy asked.
“No change. The doctors are going to keep him under for at least another day. Daisy, I need to check him out of the hotel. It seems pointless to pay for a room when he’s trapped here at the hospital.”
“Of course,” Daisy agreed. “I’ll let the front desk staff know to let you in to collect his belongings.”
“Thanks,” Alice said. Now came the hard part. “Can you waive the fees for the past few days? He didn’t use the room, and money has been tight for him.”
“Bless his heart,” Daisy said, and she sounded genuinely sympathetic. “I wish I could do it for him, but rules are rules. The room was in his name, his belongings were in there, and we’ve already billed his credit card.”
“Then reverse the charges, please.”
“Honey, you know we can’t do that. If you’d cleared out his room the day of the accident we would have quit billing him and rented the room to someone else.”
Jack didn’t have anyone to fight for him but her, and Alice intended to win this battle.
She channeled the steely tone her father used, the one that always sent a shiver down her back.
“Daisy, unless you show me records indicating the inn was at full capacity for the past five days, I want you to reverse the charges on Jack’s card. Is that understood?”
Daisy huffed. “There’s no need to get nasty. I’ll speak to my husband. I’m sure we can work something out.”
“Thanks, Daisy,” she said, aiming for a conciliatory tone. But as the words left her mouth, a flicker of doubt crept in. When it really mattered, would the Tuckers stand by her—or would they double-cross her?
A hotel bellhop walked Alice up to Jack’s room at the Tucker Inn. Like all rooms at the hotel, it was tastefully decorated with a Colonial Williamsburg vibe, complete with a four-poster bed, dark wainscotting, and reproduction brass sconces affixed to the walls.
Her heart squeezed at the sight of Jack’s golf clubs propped in the corner. Would he ever play again? The doctors assured her he ought to make a full recovery, but at the moment he looked so frail and broken it was hard to believe.
She dragged Jack’s suitcase from beneath the bed when a discreet knock sounded. The bellhop had promised to bring a luggage trolley, and she opened the door without a second thought.
Instead of a hotel clerk, Sebastian Bell held the luggage trolley. “Hello, gorgeous. Daisy said you’d be coming by to empty out Jack’s room.” He flashed her a wink. “I’m here to help.”
Alice snuck a peek down both sides of the hall to search for paparazzi.
Once assured the coast was clear, she tugged him inside.
Being alone in a hotel room with Sebastian probably wasn’t the smartest thing in the world, but she didn’t want to press her luck by carrying on a conversation in the hallway.
“Why are you still here?” she asked. “I assumed you’d already gone back to England.”
“I needed to see you again. Alice, we need to talk.”
She opened the top drawer of the highboy to begin clearing out Jack’s things. “Seb, we don’t really need to talk. It’s over, okay? I’m glad you’ve made it through rehab and things are going well for you, but I’ve already moved on.”
Sebastian watched her through somber eyes. “He’ll never marry you, and I’ve been dreaming about it since the day we met.”
It hurt because both things were true. That didn’t mean Sebastian was the right match for her.
She and Sebastian were hopeless romantics.
Who else could fall head-over-heels in love with a perfect stranger in the space of a day?
And yet, beneath all his charisma, Sebastian was impractical, irresponsible, and charmingly selfish.
She had to learn it the hard way, but she would never regret knowing him.
Alice’s future was uncertain, but she needed to face it on her own. “Can you lift Jack’s clubs onto the cart? With luck we can get this done in one trip.”
How sad that all of Jack’s possessions could fit on a hotel cart. He admitted to having a storage locker somewhere, but for the most part, two suitcases of clothes, a laptop, and a set of golf clubs were his worldly possessions.
The closet held two business suits, two casual jackets, a rain coat, and a winter coat. She held the hanging garment bag as Sebastian helped fill it.
Her phone rang, and she reached for it. An unfamiliar number flashed on the screen.
“Hello?”
“Is this Alice Chadwick?”
“It is,” she said, her eyes locked with Sebastian, praying it wasn’t bad news about Jack.
“This is Sophie Latimer, Jack’s stepmother,” the other voice said. “The hospital said you’re overseeing Jack’s care. Can I ask how he’s doing?”
She paused, then started to pace. Jack had been dodging Sophie’s calls ever since Alice met him. Who was she to reveal his personal information to a complete stranger? And yet, it would be cruel to completely withhold information, since Jack’s father was still alive and no doubt concerned.
“Can I speak to Jack’s father?”
There was a long pause. “Frank is right beside me listening in. Say something, hon.”
“I’m here,” a raspy voice on the other end of the connection choked out.
“He’s got emphysema, and speaking is difficult for him,” Sophie said. “We’ve been so worried about Jack. Please tell us how he is. The hospital wouldn’t tell us anything, except that you’ve been with him since he was admitted.”
“That’s right,” she said. It still felt like a violation to reveal Jack’s medical information to the people he’d been avoiding for years, but it wasn’t in her to be unkind to desperate people.
“He’s in an induced coma, but the doctors plan on bringing him out of it tomorrow. They anticipate a full recovery.”
“Thank you for looking out for him,” Jack’s father said, his raspy voice sounding painful. “Tell him that I love him. Proud of him.”
Whatever else Frank Latimer intended to say was cut off by a series of gasping coughs. Sophie murmured some soothing words to her husband, urging him to sip something through a straw. There was more coughing and wheezing, then a long pause before Sophie came back on the line.
“I got my husband settled on the patio outside so he can’t overhear,” she said. “I want to thank you for letting us know how Jack is. We have been praying for him every day for years.”
“I’ll tell him.” Not that it would make much difference.
“Alice, my husband is dying. We’ve both come to terms with that, but Frank wants to see Jack before he goes. I’ve been trying to get in touch with him ever since it became obvious that Frank didn’t have long. The biggest regret of his life is losing contact with his son.”
What could Alice say to that? For a man to abandon a seriously ill child was appalling, and it was up to Jack to decide about forgiveness or a reconciliation.
“I’ll pass along what you’ve said but can’t make any promises.”
She ended the call and set the phone on the bedside table. Sebastian was his typical insouciant self. “That sounded uniquely awful. Care to tell me what it was all about?”
It wasn’t her story to tell. If she hadn’t been so surprised by Sophie’s unexpected call, she would have taken it off speaker phone immediately. As it was, Sebastian heard everything.
“Not everyone has great relationships with their parents,” she said simply, and mercifully, Sebastian seemed to accept it.
They finished packing up Jack’s room in short order. Everything fit easily onto the cart, and Alice took a quick final inspection of each drawer, beneath the bed, and through the shelves in the closet.
Nothing left. “Seb … did you see the signet ring anywhere?”
“No. Is it supposed to be here?”
She did a mental inventory. Jack took it with him after their argument at her townhouse.
It hadn’t been on him when the accident happened.
The hospital put all his personal belongings in a sealed baggie, and there hadn’t been much.
His wallet, his watch, a pair of sunglasses, and a roll of mints. No ring.
“Let’s go through his pockets,” she said, opening the first suitcase.
Between the two of them, they searched every pocket and golf bag cubby. Sebastian dumped Jack’s toiletries on the desk and unscrewed every lid, searching for a hiding place.
They found nothing. The room now looked like a disaster zone, with clothes strewn everywhere in their hunt for the ring.
“Maybe he has a safe-deposit box at a bank,” Sebastian said.
She nodded. “I’ll ask him when he wakes up.”
It took another twenty minutes to fold and pack everything up again, but Sebastian never once complained. After reloading the cart, he met her gaze.
“Alice … I need to know. Is there any hope for us? I've dated some of the world’s most beautiful women, but you’re the one. You’re the last puzzle piece I need to make my life perfect. Say the word, and I’ll buy a castle for us.”
Dear Sebastian, charmingly self-centered and irresponsible as always. She blinked back a suspicious prickle in her eyes but told the truth, even though it was painful for them both. “I’m sorry, Seb. It’s over.”