Chapter Sixteen
BARRETT’S HEART THUNDEREDin his temples as he revved his motorcycle.
Lord, please help Zoey. Please keep her safe. Please help me get to her in time.
He prayed more desperately than he’d ever prayed before as he zigzagged between cars. Several vehicles honked, but he didn’t pay much attention. His heart thundered in his temples louder than even the growling motor.
Usually, he did his best to be grateful for tourists because they helped his beloved town prosper, even if they created additional traffic and crowds. Today, he found it difficult to be grateful.
He squeezed his teeth as he had to stop at the red light, tires squealing. He used the moment to call Zoey again. Only long beeps were his answer, and his heart tumbled onto the asphalt.
Worry made it difficult to breathe, though the car fumes around him weren’t exactly ocean-infused fresh air, either. He ground his teeth harder while waiting for the light. He shouldn’t have left her place—Kennedy’s place. It was his duty to protect her. But his brother had needed him, and he’d relied too much on the state-of-the-art security system in that mansion. If someone had tried to get into that house, he’d know. Besides, she was armed, and he didn’t need to crowd her.
Not to mention, in his family, when one of them called, others showed up.
The danger to Zoey had come from a direction he hadn’t expected. And he should have. It was on him to think several steps ahead.
Now wonderful, amazing Zoey might pay for his mistake. He stared at the red light that seemed to last an eternity, every moment turning the knife inside him. He dashed forward the moment the light changed, and the motor growled in complaint.
He’d already called 911. But right before he’d received her terrifying text, he’d been on the phone with one of his police officer friends. Nearly all the ambulances of their small town had gone to a car pileup on another road where a drunk tourist ran a red light. The remaining ambulance was hurrying a heart attack victim from the beach to the hospital.
Barrett sent up a prayer for those people. But that meant there’d be no ambulances to send to Kennedy’s place.
The backup ambulances had been sent from Charleston, of course, and maybe even a medevac helicopter, but it could be too late for Zoey.
His fingers tightened around the handlebars so much that his bones crushed his skin. The pileup was also the reason this road was busier than usual, and the rows of cars ahead of him didn’t offer even a single opening. Everyone and their dog was on this detour. Literally, as a dog panted at him from the open window of a car Barrett managed to pass.
It wasn’t a good idea to drive between cars. Extremely dangerous. One wrong move, and he could be flying over the cars and end up with many injuries or worse. But what choice did he have?
His fingers tightened around the handlebars, and the motorcycle jerked forward, flying on the line between the lanes. More honking ensued, of course, but he concentrated on getting to Zoey in time.
Finally, the road cleared up as Kennedy’s house was in a pricier, more secluded suburb, meaning the road was more deserted than the rest of their small town. He sped up, everything in him terrified to lose Zoey.
He had difficulty thinking, but somehow, he had to maintain his cool.
Why would she eat food she suspected was poisoned or drink something like that? Because she trusted the person who gave it to her? Kennedy had made sure any food there had been thoroughly checked.
Okay, okay. He could see the peculiar construction of Kennedy’s towerlike beachfront mansion now. He breathed in more ocean-spray-infused air mixed with the angry fumes of his motorcycle to calm his mind, to clear his thinking. He’d conduct the investigation later. Right now, he needed to get Zoey to the doctor.
His heartbeat a staccato, he reached Kennedy’s house in record time and jumped from the motorcycle the second it stopped. There was no ambulance nearby, and his stomach plummeted as he ripped off his helmet and dropped it onto the motorcycle. Maybe the ambulance had already taken Zoey to the hospital?
Lord, please.
He dashed to the front door. Thankfully, he had access to the security system and the extra key, though he hadn’t intended to use it, so he didn’t have to break the door. Besides, according to Kennedy, the door hinges were constructed in a way that would be close to impossible to knock the door down.
To avoid invading Zoey’s privacy, he rang the doorbell. No answer. Everything shuddered inside him. He couldn’t waste precious minutes in case she was inside and unconscious.
“Zoey! Zoey, I’m going to open the door!” he yelled.
There was still no answer, so he disabled the alarm and turned the key in the lock. He rushed inside the house.
“Zoey! Are you here? Please answer me!” He sprinted through the house and found her in the kitchen, pale, her eyes closed, her phone nearby.
Breath caught in his throat, but he couldn’t let his despair stop him from helping her. He dropped to his knees and felt for a pulse on her wrist. It was weak, but it was there.
Okay, okay. He didn’t hear even the faint wail of a siren, so he needed to get her to the hospital himself. Which he couldn’t do on a motorcycle. He rushed to the living room, picked up her keys, and found the car Kennedy had talked Zoey into taking after returning her rental. He mentally thanked Austin’s wife as he raced back into the kitchen.
He scooped Zoey up and carried her to the car, her body so fragile in his arms. He didn’t want to think of the comparison of a tiny bird in the palm of a human hand on her work-in-progress, but the image came to mind nevertheless. He’d never wanted to hold her life in the palm of his hand.
But God... God was holding her life in His palm.
Lord, please save her.
Urgency pulsed in Barrett with overwhelming jolts as he carried her to the three-car garage. He’d dreamed so many times of holding her close, but not like this. Never like this...
Near the fancy bulletproof sedan, he clicked the fob, then opened the door, and slipped her on the back seat. It still smelled faintly of the hamburgers they’d shared. Maybe the happiest moment of his life. Her eyelids half-open now, she murmured something.
He leaned closer, unwanted tears prickling behind his eyes. “What were you saying?” It must be something important.
Her gaze was unfocused. “I’m nauseous. I don’t want to... to throw up in your vehicle. It will make it... smell... bad. Désolée. I mean, sorry.”
His jaw dropped. That was what she worried about? “First, it’s Kennedy’s vehicle, and I’m sure she won’t care. Second, I’m fine if you throw up on me if it removes poison from your body and makes you feel better.”
That was something that would most likely never go into a romantic novel.
He made sure she was comfortable, then checked that everything looked safe outside, and clicked the remote to open the garage door. He leaped into the driver’s seat and turned the key in the ignition. The motor revved up, and he took off, peeling rubber.
He called to cancel the ambulance on the hands-free phone. Growing up here, he knew people, so he called the hospital to be ready for Zoey. Thankfully, the hospital was close, and much less traffic blocked the road going into town than had clogged the roads on the way out.
He couldn’t lose her. He just couldn’t. Even if they could never be in a relationship, he ached for her to be happy. Even if not with him. Even if not here but back in Lazoria. He just wanted her to be alive and happy... somewhere on this earth.
“The chocolate chip cookies in the gift basket... made me sick... I think.” Her voice was weak.
Wheels turned in his brain as he breezed through the intersection on the yellow light. “Gift basket?”
“Yes...” A sigh traveled to him. “The card... said from Todd.”
Heat surged, scorching his veins, but he kept his attention on the road. He had an extremely precious passenger. “Todd?”
“He said he didn’t send it. I... I believe him.”
She shouldn’t have risked eating something from a basket that could be used to harm her. She was still na?ve and trusting. But he wouldn’t berate her. Besides, those very qualities, among others, endeared her to him, maybe even made him keep falling for her.
What mattered now was for her to be well. He flew through another intersection on the thankfully green light, then veered onto the road to the hospital.
Her well-being was much more important than the investigation, but he blurted out, “Do you remember the way the delivery guy looked? What did the delivery van say?”
“Mason brought it. He said the basket was delivered to Kennedy’s office for Tulip.”
Huh. Two men who were already on Barrett’s personal suspects’ list. If his fingers weren’t wrapped around the steering wheel, they’d probably be fisting. He’d have to talk to them both, separately, of course, but not before he knew Zoey was all right and back home safe. Even then, he’d ask one of his brothers to stand guard while he investigated.
For now, he barely resisted the urge to grit his teeth. “We’ll figure it out. Try to relax. We’re almost there. The doctors will help you.” He had to believe the latter to be able to breathe.
“Merci. You... saved my life.”
He wanted to be a hero in her eyes, but not at the cost of something happening to her. Besides, he was just a glorified driver right now. And the entire situation wouldn’t have happened if he hadn’t left before their planned lunch. He sent up another desperate plea before he reported the incident to the police as he drove.
By the time he parked at the hospital, he learned that the heart attack on the beach had turned out to be heartburn and heatstroke, and the accident victims had been airlifted to a much larger hospital in Charleston. He sent up another prayer for them, but he was also grateful now that she’d receive medical attention at the local hospital fast.
That was an answer to his prayer in itself.
Thank You, Lord.
Indeed, they hooked her up to IV fluids immediately, and he suspected her stomach would have to be pumped. His chest muscles tightened as she was wheeled off behind the ER’s double doors. He had to go to the waiting room since he wasn’t her relative or a spouse and didn’t have the right to be by her bedside.
With his heart heavy, he dragged himself to the waiting room, but buckets of sand might’ve been tied to his feet for all the progress he made. How could he have left her vulnerable? What if she didn’t make it?
How could he live with that?
Somehow, he trudged the rest of the way to the waiting room. It smelled faintly of stale coffee and sour milk, and the scent seemed to permeate the walls of the same color. He slumped into the plastic seat the furthest from everyone else and took out his phone. Now, he needed to tell both Kennedy and Mr. Crawford about her condition and Barrett’s failure. Mr. Crawford didn’t answer, so Barrett called Kennedy next. No matter how he dreaded giving her the news, it needed to be done, and he had to take responsibility for his actions.
As busy as Kennedy always was, she still answered on the second ring. “Hello, Barrett.”
He didn’t waste time on pleasantries. “Zoey is in the Port Sunshine hospital.” He kept his voice low so as not to be overheard. “It appears someone poisoned her with chocolate chip cookies. She’s responsive, and I’m awaiting word about how serious the situation is.”
“On my way.” Kennedy didn’t hesitate, and he didn’t expect her to.
“I was unable to reach her father.” He stared at the scuffed light-gray tile that had been white when they laid it. There was a crack in the nearest square. There was a crack in his investigation somewhere, as well.
“I’ll take care of it. I’ll also talk to the police.” Her tone was curt, but then it softened. “Thank you for letting me know.”
He swallowed hard. “I’ll understand if you and Zoey decide to fire me for this.”
“I’m sure it’s not your fault.” A motor revved in her background. She must be getting on the road. “I always double-check all the food deliveries to the house. She must’ve received a delivery from someone she trusted.”
“Yes. Your assistant.”
There was a pause. Then a whoosh of breath whistled past the speakers. “Okay, I didn’t expect that. Mason’s background is clean.” Her tone turned slightly defensive. “He’s been trustworthy so far.”
Obviously, she couldn’t be impartial here.
But Barrett could. Mostly. “Well, the card was from Todd O’Malley, but he said he didn’t send a gift basket.”
“I’ll be there soon. I’ll need all the details for the police.”
“I already contacted them.”
Huh. She didn’t respond. Had she heard him?
“Thank you,” she said at last, then disconnected.
Barrett got up and paced the room.
Laredo arrived before Kennedy did and rushed inside the waiting room, his white cowboy hat pushed back, and the stride of his scuffed cowboy boots fast. He gripped Barrett’s shoulder. “Are you okay?”
Barrett’s eyes widened as he sat. “Did you hear about...”
“About Zoey?” Laredo nodded. “News travels fast in small towns. I also happen to be friends with one of the doctors here. He said Zoey was poisoned.”
Barrett blinked. “And you’re asking if I am okay?”
“Well, yeah. I mean, it’s obvious you have a crush on her. Or... more.”
Barrett studied the stale-coffee-colored wall before turning to his brother. “That obvious?”
Laredo rolled his eyes. “Duh!”
Before Barrett could respond, Kennedy stormed in. Her gaze zoomed in on him, and she hurried their way, the heels of her white shoes clicking against the worn cracked tile in an impatient and demanding staccato. “No news yet?”
He shook his head. “No.”
“Okay. Let’s see what’s going on.” Her expression determined, she dashed forward like a ship sailing in the full wind, her blonde hair swishing behind her like a sail. But then, she moved that way most of the time. Fast, with direction, and a purpose. She disappeared behind the double doors. As Zoey’s cousin, she had more rights to inquire about Zoey and to be near her, but no doubt, Kennedy would get through even if she didn’t.
As much as he wanted to go with her and demand answers about Zoey’s health, he forced himself to stay seated and braced for more waiting and uncertainty. He’d reported what had happened to the police, but Kennedy had wanted to do it herself. To control the narrative? To protect Mason? Or because of something else?
As a private investigator, he’d often walked a tightrope between what was right and what was right for the client. But this time, he hadn’t only put his head and conscience in the game. He was putting his heart there, as well.
Laredo gestured to the vending machine. “Would you like some coffee? Or a sandwich? Or a snack?” He hooked his fingers into the pockets of his Wrangler’s jeans. “Or I could swing by the ranch and bring you something if you want.”
“I’m fine. Really. Not hungry.” Barrett tugged at his leather jacket. No way could he push anything around the lump growing in his throat. And why did everyone always try to feed you at the hospital? He’d had breakfast, and it wasn’t lunchtime yet. Breakfast...
His and Zoey’s peaceful breakfast when he was so close he could reach out and touch her face if he dared, when she was smiling, and when he was falling for her more and more seemed so long ago now. As far out of reach as the coast across the ocean.
Every moment was going to be torture if he couldn’t know what was happening to her. He got up, determined to go behind the double doors.
Then Austin walked into the waiting room, dressed in khaki pants, a button-up navy-blue shirt, and sneakers. He was hugging an armload of water bottles. Dallas followed him, the plastic bag hooked on the crook of his arm swinging like a pendulum.
Barrett’s heart warmed. The brothers were always there for each other, despite all the roughhousing as children. Darius was on his honeymoon, and Tex was in Charleston—or most likely they’d be here, as well.
Austin handed one bottled water to each of them while holding onto the remaining one. “I heard about Zoey from Kennedy, and I hope you don’t mind I told Dallas.”
Dallas lifted the bag. “Mom sent some sandwiches. She started the prayer chain, too.”
Barrett would have to thank her and bring her some of her favorite pastries when all this was over today. He opened his bottle and slugged a few sips but shook his head at the sandwiches. “Thanks. I don’t think I can eat right now.”
“It’s with Mom’s brisket.” Austin pointed to the bag that emanated a mouthwatering aroma.
That was the best advertisement, but Barrett still waved it off. “No. But you all please help yourselves.”
Austin took out a sandwich and handed another one to Laredo. “Don’t mind if I do. Kennedy loves fancy food, and I’m learning to love it, too. So don’t tell her, but you still can’t beat Mom’s brisket.”
Barrett mimed zipping his lips. “Your secret is safe with us.”
He took another sip of water to soften that lump in his throat, and the cold liquid seemed to trickle past it as he stared longingly at the doors beyond which Zoey had been wheeled away. This uncertainty was a torture indeed. He hadn’t wanted to demand a right he didn’t have, but a part of him wished he’d insisted on going with her.
“Zoey is going to be fine.” Austin wolfed down the beef brisket sandwich with the astonishing speed of a hungry Newfoundland, but maybe that was because he wanted to eat it before Kennedy returned and caught him. “She’s in good hands here. Small town or not, we do have excellent doctors. And you know Kennedy will do anything for her cousin.”
Barrett knew another person who’d do anything for Zoey. Himself. He gave his brother a half smile of gratitude for the encouragement. “Thank you.”
Most of the optimism given to their family seemed to go to their mother and Austin. Plus, the specifics of Barrett’s job where he sometimes encountered the worst people were capable of had affected his view of the world. He hadn’t realized how much until he’d met Zoey. She’d shown him the world’s brighter side and truly breathed new life into him. Now, she was struggling for her own life.
All because of his mistake. The lump in his throat grew, and the water didn’t help to dissolve it. An ocean wouldn’t have helped to dissolve it.
The next moment, Kennedy’s blonde head popped out of the double doors, and she waved at her husband, then gestured for Barrett to come in.
His heart leaped into his throat as he leaped to his feet. He rushed to her. “Is Zoey okay?”
“We’re still waiting on the results of her labs, but her vital signs are stable.” Kennedy’s words made him nearly stumble in relief. “They hooked her to IVs and, um...”
“Pumped her stomach?” That was another thing that would most likely never go into a romance novel.
“Yes. In short, Zoey isn’t completely out of the woods yet, but much better than she was.”
He sent up a prayer of gratitude, plus a heartfelt request for Zoey to be “completely out of the woods.” But he needed to see her for himself. Then the investigator in him reawakened. “A tox screen?”
“Isn’t back yet.” Her eyes shadowed. “Thanks for reporting the incident to the police. I talked to them, as well. And an officer already stopped by and talked to Zoey.” Kennedy grimaced. “Probably the last thing my cousin needed, but it had to be done. I’ll ensure the police get the gift basket as it is evidence now.”
“Thank you so much.” He usually had a good read on people and didn’t doubt Kennedy’s integrity. Even if part of her might want to protect her assistant, she wouldn’t shield Mason if he was guilty.
Her nod was curt. “These... incidents need to stop. I can’t let Zoey be harmed again.”
The line on her forehead and the concern in her eyes told Barrett how much she worried about her cousin. To manage a corporation, Kennedy had to project a steel will and iron confidence, but from Austin, Barrett knew that those she loved, she loved fiercely. Thankfully for Austin. And for Zoey.
“Thank you. I’ll talk to Todd and Mason and look into this further. I’m sure you wouldn’t expect anything else.”
“No, I didn’t. We might need additional guards for Zoey while you talk to them. Someone we can trust completely.”
“My brothers. They’ll step in. Thank you for all you’ve done.” The words didn’t seem adequate. “Thank you for being there for Zoey. Thank you for making Austin happy.” He’d never said that before, and maybe he should have. But when one didn’t see how many things they should be grateful for, it was difficult to express that gratitude.
Now he saw clearer how many things he should be grateful for, thanks to a cleansing from the refreshing spring named Zoey.
Surprise flashed in Kennedy’s eyes. “Of course. I should be thanking Austin for making me happy. Until he appeared in my life, I had no clue what happiness was. Yeah, you’ll probably think, ‘Oh boo-hoo, poor rich girl complaining.’ But it’s true.”
“I’d never think that,” he said honestly.
“I love Austin and my uncle and Zoey,” Kennedy said, “with everything in me.”
“Zoey is impossible not to love,” he blurted out before he could stop the words from rolling off his tongue. “I—May I see her now? Please?”
Kennedy’s eyes narrowed. Then she lifted a hand to stop him from going behind the forest-green curtain. “Sure, but one more thing.” Her voice lowered to a whisper. “I made an executive decision not to tell my uncle yet. I know he’s going to be angry with me, but I didn’t want to worry him.”
Her gaze became vulnerable, but the expression disappeared so fast he might’ve imagined it. He sensed she wasn’t saying everything, but while he was in the business of uncovering secrets, he didn’t prod for hers. Besides, every cell in him was desperate to see Zoey, to make sure she was okay. Even if she wasn’t out of the hospital bed behind the forest-green curtain and out of the woods yet.
He pushed the curtain aside and entered the small space. The machines beeped as if reminding everyone of their much-needed presence, and his rib cage constricted as he sighted the IV hooked to her veins. Kennedy stayed outside the curtain as if to give them privacy, and he appreciated that.
Zoey’s now honey-blonde hair fanned out on the white pillow. She was still pale, and dark circles deepened the hollows under her eyes. But those doe-like eyes lit up when she saw him. “Barrett!” Then her cheeks pinked up. “I’m sorry if you had to hear the details of my... my ordeal.” Despite the silly apologetic notes in her voice, it sounded much firmer than when he’d found her on the kitchen floor.
“Nothing to be sorry about.” He ached to touch the smooth skin of her face, to have tactile proof she was okay, but he forced himself to hang back. No matter how much everything in him cried out to hold her, to hold onto her, to hold onto this unexpected hope that was slipping through his fingers like the cool waters of that forest spring, he still hung back. “I just want you to be well.”
He wanted more for her than to just be well. He was eager for her to thrive. To achieve all her dreams. But he couldn’t tell her that.
His gut twisted. He was her bodyguard, her employee, the one who’d let her get hurt, and there was no better time to remind himself of that than now. He’d stand guard the whole time she remained here.
Because what if whoever tried to poison her tried to sneak in here, dressed as a nurse, and finish what they’d started? He shuddered just from the thought. “I’m sorry I let you down.”
“What?” Her eyes widened. “No! You didn’t let me down. You saved me. If not for you, I might’ve died.”
He shuddered again. “I shouldn’t have left.”
“Seriously?” She rolled her eyes. “You can’t be glued to me twenty-four seven. And you wouldn’t like it, anyway. I snore.”
“That would be music to my ears.”
That elicited a chuckle that was music to his ears, too. “Um, no, it’s not. Besides, it’s not your fault I decided to eat cookies from that gift basket.” She sighed. “I should’ve known better. But I guess in many ways I’m still na?ve et confiante. Na?ve and trusting.”
“And I love that about you.” The words escaped, like birds freed from a cage, before he could stop them. He cringed. What was happening to him? He was always very careful to say only measured words and only at the needed time. Heat rose to his neck. “Not that I... I love you.”
Did he love her?
He didn’t dare answer that question. But seeing her sick made him realize how much she meant to him already.
“I figured as much.” She glanced away before returning her gaze to him. “Did Kennedy tell you about my medical condition?”
He chose his response carefully. He wouldn’t lie to Zoey, but neither could he betray Kennedy’s confidence. “Just in general terms.”
“Okay. Please sit down.” She gestured to the upholstered chair that matched the curtain near the bed. “I need to tell you about my conversation with Mason. More people than we suspect might want me gone.”
He did as she asked. And when she found his hand, he didn’t have the strength to pull it away. “I can’t imagine anyone would want you gone.” And he wanted her to stay. Forever.
Anger at Mason and any other people who judged Zoey without having a clue about her kindness surged in him as she talked. Then her eyelids started fluttering closed. Once, twice.
He squeezed her fingers, careful not to disturb the IV. “You’re tired. You need to rest. Please.”
“I do feel sleepy. Will you... will you be here when I wake up?” Her expression turned hopeful.
“Of course.”
Her pale lips lifted. “Okay, then. Thank you. It’s just going to be a small nap.” She closed her eyes, and soon her breathing evened out.
While holding her hand, he texted his brothers with his other hand to let them know he’d need their help to stand guard for Zoey. At least, when he had to leave tomorrow to take a power nap and interview Todd and Mason and some other employees. He’d also visit Cody Barns. His brothers texted that they’d step in and wished Zoey a speedy recovery.
He responded with his deep gratitude to each one of them. Then he sent his mother a necessary update and his even more necessary thanks and invited her to her favorite restaurant when this was over. After that, he gifted himself the luxury of simply watching Zoey sleep while holding her hand and treasuring his tangible connection to her.
Thank You, Lord, for saving her life today.
She was right. She snored, but the soft sound made him smile and filled him with tenderness to the brim. That sound was rather reassuring because it signaled she was alive and safe.
He was right, too. The adorable sound was music to his ears.