Beaufort Brides: Hired Bride Part 14

He tried to sound encouraging, but he was afraid he just sounded trite and empty. Of course, Deanna would be imagining the worst. She'd lived on the edge of everything falling apart for nearly all her life.

He thought about how he would feel is something suddenly happened to Brie or his mother. It would be shock-shock before any of the grief could be processed-since he never expected bad things to happen.

Deanna was different. When he glanced over again, he saw that her hands were twisting restlessly together in her lap, like she was clinging to her hands as the only thing left to hold onto.

He reached over and covered both of her little hands with one of his, not saying anything and not looking from the road as they started to move again.

She didn't speak, but she didn't pull her hands away, so that was something.

He couldn't believe that just fifteen minutes ago, they'd been on the verge of having s.e.x.

He drove as fast as he could to the hospital, getting there in less than twenty minutes. When he got out and walked around the car, he saw that Deanna hadn't moved.

He went to open the pa.s.senger door and looked in at her. "Deanna?" he asked softly.

She was still twisting her hands together. "Mitch.e.l.l, I'm scared." She swallowed visibly. "We laugh at her and get annoyed at her weirdness and complain when she's embarra.s.sing all the time, but we love her. I love her."

His heart clenched in sympathy. "I know, baby." He reached in to undo her seatbelt. "But staying in the car isn't going to hold the bad stuff back. Let's go see how she is."

She nodded, her eyes huge and focused up at his face.

When she still didn't move, he stretched his arms out to help her out of the car. Her knees buckled when she stood up, so he kept an arm around her. She leaned on him slightly as they walked into the hospital.

He wondered why it felt strange until he realized that no one ever leaned on him. Not even Brie or his mother. No one truly depended on him for anything.

Until Deanna.

He asked at the front desk and discovered Mrs. Beaufort was in surgery. They were pointed toward a waiting room where they found Kelly, who was sitting alone in a corner, her arms wrapped around herself tightly. She wore the two long braids she normally wore, and they were hanging down past her downturned face.

She looked up as they approached, and her face twisted in relief. She jumped up and ran to hug Deanna, who hugged her back for a really long time.

"What happened?" Deanna asked at last, pulling away. She looked a little better now, as if taking care of Kelly had given her stride back. "How did she fall?"

"She fell down the bas.e.m.e.nt stairs."

"What?" Deanna looked horrified. "Why was she-"

"We weren't getting hot water, so we went down to the bas.e.m.e.nt to check. The hot water heater totally died, and it flooded the bas.e.m.e.nt with water. When she saw it, she tried to run down there. She was worried about all her treasures."

They'd moved her collection of historic clothes and knick-knacks down to the bas.e.m.e.nt while the house was being worked on-Mitch.e.l.l knew that much. He could well imagine how the old lady would feel at the possibility of all of it being destroyed.

"Oh, no," Deanna breathed.

"I'm sorry. I should have stopped her. I just-"

"I'm not blaming you. Of course it's not your fault. So how exactly was she hurt? I mean, why is she having surgery?"

"They said she broke a hip and her arm and has a concussion, but at her age, all of it is serious. They seemed really worried about her getting hit on the head like that."

"When did they take her into surgery?" Mitch.e.l.l asked, putting a bracing hand on Deanna's back. He didn't like the sound of her injuries at all. He prayed she was going to be okay.

"Just a few minutes ago." Kelly sniffed and wiped her eyes behind her gla.s.ses.

"Were you able to reach Rose?"

"Yeah. She's going to fly back right away."

Mitch.e.l.l remembered that their other sister was in London, where the family she was a nanny for was spending the summer.

When Deanna just stood there, staring at her sister, he gently pushed against her back. "There's nothing to do right now but wait. Why don't you sit down?"

Deanna followed his lead and sat down on the edge of a chair. He sat beside her, trying to think of something he could do to help.

She turned to look at him, appearing almost dazed. "You don't have to-"

"Don't even dare to suggest that I go home," he interrupted gruffly.

Deanna's face contorted briefly with emotion, and Kelly gave him a curious look.

He couldn't figure out the younger girl very well. She was young-just nineteen or so. And she seemed to be blunt and no-nonsense most of the time, but there was something delicate about her too, something sensitive she didn't reveal to the world.

He liked her well enough. A younger sister of his wife could have been a lot more annoying than Kelly. But his thoughts soon turned back to Deanna, who was still kind of perched on her chair, like she was ready to jump up at a moment's notice.

"It's going to be a while," he murmured, pulling her back, adjusting her so she was leaning against his side. "You might as well try to relax."

She gave a little snort, but she didn't try to pull away. She breathed deeply and pressed her cheek against his shirt. Mitch.e.l.l tightened his arm around her, feeling almost comforted by the fact that he might be of some help to her, that she might need him.

He liked that idea, and it was the oddest thing.

No one had ever really needed him before.

He'd never even wanted to be needed before.

It was more than two hours later when the doctor finally came out to give them an update.

Deanna had been leaning against him fully, her eyes closed although he knew she wasn't sleeping. Kelly had been curled up on the sofa across from them.

Both of them jumped up when the doctor approached, while Mitch.e.l.l stood up more slowly. He felt stiff and sore, and his heart started to race as he saw the doctor's face.

"She's stable for now," the doctor said. "But it's serious. We took care of the hip and arm, but there's swelling in her brain, so we'll need to see how long it takes for that swelling to go down and how she is afterwards."

"What are the possibilities?" Mitch.e.l.l asked, when Deanna opened her mouth but no sound came out.

"It could be that she's just fine, or there could be some sort of brain damage. We can't tell yet."

"How long will it take for the swelling to go down?"

"It's hard to tell. We should know more tomorrow morning."

"When can we see her?"

"She's in recovery now. We'll move her into a room in an hour or two. There's nothing you can do now, so you might go home and take a shower and get something to eat and then come back later tonight. She likely won't be awake, though, so you could just come back tomorrow morning."

Mitch.e.l.l could tell from Deanna's face that it wasn't going to happen.

When the doctor left, Deanna glanced up at Mitch.e.l.l. "Do you think you could take Kelly back home?" she asked.

Both he and Kelly started to object at the same time.

"I'm not going home," Kelly said. "I care about her just as much as you do."

"I know. But there's no sense in all of us staying all night. Go on home and get some rest."

"I don't want to go rest while you're here by yourself," Kelly said, sticking out her chin stubbornly. "I'm not a child, you know. You can't just order me around."

Deanna let out a long breath and closed her eyes briefly. "I don't want to order you around. I'm just trying to think of the best thing to do."

"The best thing to do is not for you to sit here all night by yourself," Mitch.e.l.l put in, strangely pleased when Kelly nodded in support. "Why don't we all go and get something to eat and change clothes and then when we can figure out the best thing to do."

"I don't want to leave," Deanna said. "I need to be here."

"You don't need to be here. You want to be here because you think you can somehow control things better if you're here. But you can't. There's nothing you can do. So just let go for a few minutes and take care of yourself."

Deanna stared up at him for a minute, as if she were surprised either by the words or the tone, which had been strangely blunt and intimate both.

She didn't nod or agree in words or make any indication that she'd accepted the idea, but she didn't object either, so he put his hand in the middle of her back and pushed her forward.

She walked with him, and the three of them had made it to his car when Deanna finally said, "Wait! I didn't want to leave."

"Tough." He helped her into the pa.s.senger seat and then opened the backseat door for Kelly, who hopped in, looking tired but vaguely amused about something.

"What do you all feel like eating?" he asked, after he'd gotten into the driver's side.

"I'm not hungry."

"Well, you're going to eat something, so either make a suggestion or put up with whatever we choose."

"A sandwich or something would be good," Kelly said from the back. "Deanna likes the pesto chicken sandwiches at Nick's. It's just down the road here."

"Sounds good. We'll go there."

Deanna shot a look back at her sister, as if she'd betrayed her, but then she turned a glare up to Mitch.e.l.l, who was clearly the main source of her ire. "You're getting kind of bossy," she mumbled. "What's gotten into you?"

He wasn't sure what had gotten into him-just that he knew he needed to take care of Deanna, and this seemed to be the only way she'd allow him to do it.

He arched his eyebrows with a cool look in response and was rewarded when she gave him a little smile.

Deanna's head hurt and her back hurt and her knees hurt and her chest hurt, but she kept trying to mop the pooled water in the bas.e.m.e.nt toward the drain.

She'd stayed at the hospital until lunchtime, when Rose had arrived after flying over from London. Since both Rose and Kelly were now at the hospital, Deanna had come over to the house to try to save as many of her grandmother's family treasures as possible.

She'd been working down here for nearly four hours now, and she didn't seem any closer to getting the damage under control.

She'd moved all the boxes to the only dry corner, but she cringed at how wet the bottom of some of the boxes were. A couple had burst opened, revealing wet 19th century clothes and curtains.

Her grandmother would be heartbroken if they were ruined.

It didn't seem right that just when things were finally going well for them-the house was being redone and they could show the treasures as they were meant to be shown-this would happen.

It was like the Beauforts were doomed to always get only to the edge of success before the ground fell out beneath their feet.

Deanna straightened up, wincing at the pain in her back, and pulled the elastic out of her hair to redo her ponytail, since strands were falling out and sticking uncomfortably to her neck. Once she got some of this water cleaned up, she could start to open the boxes and see how much damage was done. She looked over to where she'd hung up the wet curtains that had survived the Civil War and almost cried at how terrible they looked.

"What the h.e.l.l are you doing?" roared a familiar male voice from behind her.

She jumped in surprise and nearly dropped her mop. Her back clenched painfully, so she was gasping as she turned around to see Mitch.e.l.l coming down the bas.e.m.e.nt stairs, dressed in khakis and a green dress shirt. He'd had to go over to the Claremont for a while around noon, and Deanna had hoped he'd be busy all day.

Evidently not.

"I needed to make sure all the family stuff is okay," she said, her voice cracking strangely, like it hadn't been used in too long.

Mitch.e.l.l was frowning vehemently. He didn't look happy with her at all. "That would have taken about thirty minutes. How long have you been over here?" His eyes ran up and down her body, leaving her feeling naked and exposed. "I thought you were at home resting."

"I'm not tired," she lied, turning her back on him, since he was making her feel strangely guilty. "This is important, and the longer these boxes sit in the water, the more damaged they'll get."

He made a growling sound and pulled the mop out of her hands. "I can hire people to do this. You just needed to let me know. You don't have to do it all yourself."

"It's important," she repeated, trying to pull the mop out of his hands, so they ended up having a silly little tug-of-war over it.

He was a lot stronger than her so he easily won. "It's not that important."

She gasped in outrage, feeling at the end of her emotional rope and so taking everything more personally than she normally would have. "Don't you dare say that! It is important to us. This is our family history down here, and it means everything to my grandmother. Just because you don't give a s.h.i.t about anything, doesn't mean you can a.s.sume that everyone else is equally heartless."

The annoyance on his face froze for a moment as the words struck home.

She swallowed hard, feeling a wave of guilt and an inexplicable sort of grief. "I'm sorry," she mumbled, turning around and walking over to drag a box away from the water that was slowly edging over to it. "I didn't mean that."

"Yes, you did." He was still standing motionless, looking almost like he'd been struck.

She turned back to the box, on the verge of tears now. "No, I didn't. You can't tell me what I meant or didn't mean. And I didn't meant that."

Her shoulders shook as she tried to hold back tears. She had no idea what was wrong with her. Just that he was Mitch.e.l.l. He was her husband. And he'd been so sweet lately.

And she'd hurt him when he didn't deserve it.