Chapter 2 #3
Camellia wasn’t supposed to discuss her cases, but she told her mother everything. It hurt no one and kept Erica from grieving so much. She’d do worse things to ease her mother’s pain. “Yeah. I met the son tonight. He’s…not what I expected.”
“No?” Erica poured a little balsamic glaze over the veggies in her bowl, then reached across the table to offer her the bottle.
Camellia drizzled while Wolf Travail’s brown eyes appeared in her mind. “No. I had to tell him. He was pretty upset.”
“Poor man. What’s he like?”
“He’s the handsomest man I’ve ever seen in my life, Mom.”
Her mother paused with the fork almost to her mouth.
“The kind of handsome that smacks you in the face, you know? When he opened the door, I just gaped for a second.”
“Oh?”
“Don’t say it like that. And yes, he’s single.”
“I didn’t ask if he was single.”
“It was in your ‘oh’.”
“When are you seeing him again?”
“We’re having breakfast together, during which I’ll probably tell him more stuff that’ll ruin his life.
And then I’m going to visit his dying mother.
It’s not a first date, trust me. Besides, this guy doesn’t even know which end is up right now, and the last thing I need is another broken man-child to try fixing.
Or any man, since I’ve sworn off them for good. ”
“He seems broken to you?”
“In the ten minutes I talked to him, you mean?”
“He’s going through a rough patch, though,” her mother said. She broke off a piece of bread, then gestured with it. “I bet I could tell in ten minutes.”
Camellia sighed. “This is just a job. Understand?”
“Clearly,” her mother said.
“I mean it, Mom. If you happen to meet this guy, you’re gonna want it to be more. Hell, you’ll want to adopt him. But it’s not going to be like that. I really want you clear on it. Okay?”
“That pretty, is he?” She bit off another hunk of bread with a little growl, while smiling on one side.
Willow rolled her eyes, then said, “This meal is amazing.” She dug in, because she was thinking about those brown eyes again. Wolf Travail was definitely going through a rough patch. Whatever else he was remained to be seen.
At three a.m., Camellia’s cell phone buzzed repeatedly on the nightstand, and when she reached for it, she missed and knocked her water bottle to the floor. She got the phone on the second try, though, then blinked at its screen.
Text from an unknown number.
Hospital called. My mother is close. If you want to see her, come now.
She pushed her hair out of her face, squinting at the bright screen, and tapped out a reply.
Wolf
The pickup started on the first try. After sitting for a few hours, it usually took at least three cranks, and on a night this chilly, four. But tonight, it felt like the old truck knew.
Wolf wished he’d stayed somewhere closer to the hospital.
He should have. It was only thirty minutes, but he and the truck shaved a few minutes off that time.
There was plenty of parking near the main entrance.
A nurse he didn’t know was waiting at the door and took him straight in, no ID check or sticky badge like usual. That told him things were dire.
When he arrived at his mom’s door, someone was already there at her bedside, holding her hand and speaking softly, her face hidden by a hank of honey-gold hair that had pulled free of its untidy pile.
Camellia Rio. She’d made it there before him.
“I’m doing what you asked, Cilla,” she was saying to his ma.
Her voice was soft but clear, and she was leaning in close, as if to make sure she could hear.
“I’ll help him all I can. He has the diaries, so he’ll know everything you wanted him to know.
And he’s gonna be okay. I can tell.” Her thumb moved in slow motion across the back of her frail hand, a soothing caress.
“He’s on his way. He’ll be here any minute, okay? ”
“I’m here now, Ma.” He said it loud enough for her to hear as he stepped into the hospital room. Camellia lifted her head to look his way. Her cheeks were wet and her eyes were welling.
“He’s here, Cilla. Wolf is here.”
She backed out of the way as he moved up into her place beside the bed and covered his mom’s hand with his own.
But before he leaned down to kiss her, Camellia’s hand fell on his shoulder, and her lips moved near his left ear.
“I’ll hang around awhile.” And then she left the room, her footsteps soft on the floor.
Wolf looked at his mom, but she wasn’t the person in the bed. He thought most of Cilla was already gone from her poor, ravaged body. Still, Camellia had spoken to her as if she could hear. And if she could hear him at all, he knew the words she’d be longing for.
“I’m right here, Ma. I’m holding your hand. I know the truth. I know you found me in the river and pulled me out and saved my life and then devoted your own to raising me.”
Her eyes moved beneath their lids. The beeping of the machines picked up pace.
God, could she really hear him?
“It’s okay,” he said. “Everything’s okay. And I’m gonna be okay, too, I promise.”
Her eyes opened, green and clear and lucid and looking right into his.
“Thanks for pulling me out of the Rio Grande, Ma. I love you.”
Her lips pulled into the shadow of a smile, then parted and whispered what sounded like “love.” Then her pretty eyes closed, and Cilla Travail’s short and difficult life ended.
Camellia
Camellia hadn’t made it all the way to the waiting room when the steady beeps of Cilla’s monitor become a drone. Her heart lurched. She pivoted and ran back into the room just as Wolf straightened from his mother and turned toward the door, his face wet with tears.
She went in and hugged that man as hard as she’d ever hugged anyone in her life.
He didn’t move for a moment, and then he did. His arms came around her, and his head bent low and his chest heaved.
She held him for a long time, until at length, he took a deep, steadying breath and loosened his grip.
“Come on,” she said. “Come on with me.”
He looked back at the hospital bed.
From behind Camellia, a nurse said, “Your mom’s okay now, Wolf. You can go. We’ll take care of her.”
Nodding, Wolf turned to touch his mother’s face one last time, and then he let Camellia take him home.
A short while later, Camellia stood beside her mother outside the guest room door.
She’d texted ahead, so Mom had been ready with herbal tea and a gentle sedative.
She’d been a nurse until she retired, and she always had good meds on hand.
Wolf had accepted both with thanks, then crawled into bed with his clothes on.
Thankfully, he’d fallen asleep almost as quickly.
As Camellia pulled the bedroom door closed, her mom said, “I thought you told me you were done bringing broken men home?”
Camellia paused, the door still open just a crack. “It’s just for the night. And I don’t think he’s broken. Just bruised to hell and gone.”
“Yeah,” her mom replied. “I couldn’t have left him there either.”
“That sedative you gave him worked fast.”
“He probably hadn’t eaten. That poor man. That poor, sad, gorgeous man. You were not kidding about that.”
“I hope he’s gonna be okay,” Camellia said, and she pulled the door closed.
“I can’t even imagine losing you, much less finding out the same day that you’re not really Erica Rio and, moreover, that you didn’t give birth to me, but plucked me out of a river with no idea where I came from.
I think I’d be curled in a corner, sucking my thumb. ”
“No, you wouldn’t. You’d do exactly what you’re going to do for him. Beat the bushes till you scare out the truth.”
“You’re right,” she said with a firm nod. “That’s exactly what I’m going to do.”
“Yes, you’re gonna help that young man out. But in the meantime, you need to help yourself out, too. Are you gonna be okay with all this?
“I’m a professional,” she said. “And a confirmed bachelor. I’ll be fine.”
“Ooookay,” said her mom. But she didn’t sound like she believed it.