Chapter 7 Mitch #2
Tessa, who’d been quiet until now, suddenly spoke up. “Well, I’m sure if they wanted to get into either house, now would be the perfect time for it. We’re all here at the hospital.”
Mitch’s eyes widened, his heart lurching in his chest. He looked at his son urgently. “You all need to get back to the houses. Now.”
Ryan held up a hand, his expression calm. “Don’t worry, Dad. I already covered that.”
“What do you mean?” Mitch asked.
“While you were being loaded into the ambulance, I called my buddy at the local PD,” Ryan explained. “Tim Morrison. We served together before he left the Army and joined the police force here. He and a few of his colleagues are currently stationed at both Seabird Cottage and Sunrise House.”
Relief flooded through Mitch so intensely that he felt his shoulders sag against the pillows. “Good thinking, son.”
“I wouldn’t leave our houses vulnerable like that,” Ryan said with a slight smile. “Besides, we needed someone to look after Misty. Someone who knows her and won’t get bitten if she gets protective.”
Mitch smiled at his son, pride swelling in his chest. Ryan had thought of everything, covered every angle. He’d trained him well, but Ryan had also developed his own instincts, his own way of handling situations.
Looking at Ryan now, Mitch felt the familiar ache that came with that pride.
Every time he looked at his younger son, he saw Julia—her dark coloring, her sharp intelligence, the way she could assess a situation in seconds.
But he also saw Grady. The expressions, the mannerisms, the way Ryan tilted his head when he was thinking through a problem. That was all, Grady.
The same thing happened with Piper. Every time she smiled, Mitch saw Grady’s grin. It bowled him over sometimes, that physical ache of love and loss mixed together.
He swallowed down the lump forming in his throat and forced himself to focus on the three people in the room with him now. They needed him. He needed to be there for them, not stuck in a hospital bed feeling sorry for himself.
Lori stepped closer and took his hand in both of hers. The gesture was gentle and comforting, sending warmth through him.
“We’ll be okay,” she told him softly, her eyes meeting his. “Don’t worry about us. You rest and get better so you can come home.”
Mitch smiled gratefully and nodded, squeezing her hand. The warmth from her touch traveled from his palm straight to his heart, settling there like something that had finally found its place.
Ryan cleared his throat. “We should let you rest. We’ll be back first thing in the morning.”
Tessa added, “And we’ll keep you updated if anything happens. I promise.”
Mitch nodded reluctantly. “Be careful. All of you. Stay together, don’t take any chances.”
“We won’t,” Ryan assured him. “Tim and his team will be there all night. We’re safe.”
They said their goodbyes, each of them squeezing his hand or touching his shoulder before heading toward the door. Lori lingered for a moment, her hand still holding his.
“Rest,” she whispered, her thumb tracing a gentle circle on the back of his hand. “Please.”
Then she was gone too, and Mitch was alone in the quiet hospital room.
The only sounds were the steady beep of the heart monitor and the soft hum of the fluorescent lights. His head throbbed with each beat of his pulse, but the painkillers in his IV were starting to take effect, making everything feel soft and distant around the edges.
His eyes grew heavy despite his desire to stay alert, to think through everything that had happened, to plan their next move. But exhaustion pulled at him, dragging him down toward sleep.
He was drifting, suspended in that space between waking and sleeping, when he felt it.
A soft touch on his cheek. Lips brushing against his skin, gentle and achingly familiar. A hand carefully straightening his hair, the touch tender and loving.
Then a voice he hadn’t heard in fifteen years, soft and warm with affection.
“Don’t worry, my love. Our baby boy has got this.”
Mitch smiled, his eyes still closed. He knew it wasn’t real. Knew it was the painkillers, head injury, and exhaustion creating this moment. But the comfort that washed over him was real enough, and he didn’t fight it.
“I know,” Mitch mumbled, his words slurring slightly. “But I should be there with him. Making sure nothing happens to him.”
Julia’s voice carried that mixture of affection and exasperation he remembered so well. “Ryan is going to be fine. He’s brave and capable.”
A pause, and then she sighed. “But you... I fear your stubbornness is going to get the better of you.”
Mitch’s smile widened. Even in his hallucination, Julia knew him too well. She’d always been able to see right through him, to know what he was thinking before he said it.
He wanted to hold onto this moment, this comforting presence. Wanted to keep her here just a little longer. Her perfume filled his senses—lilies and something uniquely her, a scent he’d almost forgotten but that came back now with crystal clarity.
“You know,” Julia said softly, her voice closer now, as if she were leaning in to whisper in his ear, “I like her. Lori. I think the two of you are good for each other. This one is a keeper, my love, and it’s time you found someone to grow old with by your side.”
Mitch wanted to respond, wanted to ask what she meant, wanted to tell her that he wasn’t ready, that it felt like betraying her memory. But the words wouldn’t come. Sleep was pulling him under, dragging him down into darkness.
Julia’s touch was fading, her presence drawing away.
“Rest now,” she whispered, and he could almost feel her lips brush his forehead. “I’ll always be watching over you. Over all of you.”
Then she was gone, and Mitch was falling into deep, dreamless sleep.
Bright lights suddenly assaulted his eyes, yanking him back toward consciousness. Mitch blinked, disoriented and confused. The nurse was leaning over him, her face apologetic in the harsh light from her penlight.
“Sorry, Mr. Brandon,” she said quietly. “I just have to check your vitals. Hospital protocol for head injuries.”
She took his blood pressure, the cuff tightening around his arm before slowly releasing. She checked the monitors, made notes on her tablet, then reached over to set a fresh cup of water on his bedside table.
As she moved, she paused, her head tilting slightly. She frowned and sniffed the air, her eyes scanning the room as if looking for something.
“Did you just have a visitor?” she asked, her voice curious.
Tiny shock waves tingled through Mitch. His heart skipped a beat.
“No,” he said, his voice rough from sleep. “I’ve been sleeping.”
The nurse shook her head, looking puzzled. “Oh, of course. I’m sorry.” She turned back to her tablet, finishing her notes. “I just thought I could smell lilies.”
Mitch’s breath caught in his throat.
Lilies.
The base of Julia’s favorite perfume. She’d worn it every single day of their marriage. That specific scent—a blend of lilies and jasmine and something else he’d never been able to identify. He’d packed away her perfume bottles after she died, unable to bear the reminder.
But now, suddenly, it was here. Present. Unmistakable. He could smell it too.
The nurse finished her checks, oblivious to the emotions churning through him. “Everything looks good. Your vitals are stable. Try to get some rest, Mr. Brandon. I’ll check on you again in a few hours.”
She left, closing the door softly behind her, and Mitch was alone again in the darkness.
The scent of lilies was still faint in the air. He swallowed, his heart hammering in his chest. Had Julia somehow really been here? Watching over him. Watching over all of them, just like she’d always done. Suddenly, a feeling of calm washed over him.
Before Mitch could ponder on it further, sleep dragged his eyes closed, and this time it was deep, peaceful, and dreamless.