Divine Charity (32 page)

Tank and Troy nodded when Lydia had finished explaining and looked ready to go to war. Jessica knew she’d probably regret having to share that story with them later, but they were here and she needed their help. At least they didn’t stare at her with shocked pity like so many had the year before when she’d been brought into the hospital for treatment and they’d discovered that she was pregnant. The next contraction seized her and the worry was forced into the back of her mind. Her main focus now was getting her baby into the world.

As she moved around the room getting everything set up while keeping an eye on Jessica, Tracey said, “Son of a bitch. I let in a flower delivery right as the four of you came in. I’m so sorry. I thought he was taking flowers to Grace Warner’s room.”

The four of them reacted with wide eyes and Tracey stopped speaking, her mouth gaping for a second, before she held up a hand. “Okay. He never would’ve got past the metal detectors if he had a gun. You,” she said, pointing at Tank. “You stand guard outside that door. You don’t let anyone in who isn’t wearing a hospital identification badge. You.” She pointed at Troy. “Guard the door from this side. Are either of you family?”

Tank and Troy looked at each other and Jessica noted their reluctance as they shook their heads negatively, and Tank said, “No, but we’ll be damned if some lunatic is going to get to Jessica or her baby.”

Tracey nodded as though satisfied. “Awesome. We’re going to put that sentiment to the test. But since you’re not family,” she finished her statement by swishing the privacy curtain between them and Jessica. Tracey went back to her and said, “You ready to do this, hon?”

Jessica nodded as she caught her breath. “Ready.”

Lydia had her phone to her ear and then said, “Emma is in the elevator.” Tracey relayed which room they were in and Lydia passed the information on. “She’s peeking out. She says everything looks normal.” She turned her attention back to the phone. “Emma, no. He’s up here with us. Stay there.
Shit
. You’re crazy, woman.”

Seconds later, Emma breezed in past the curtain, slipping her phone into her pocket, a smile plastered on her face. She dropped her bag and her purse on the chair and turned to scrub her hands at the sink. She looked at the curtain. “Is the door closed?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Troy said through the fabric.

Emma said, “The lights are off in Grace’s room and the blinds are drawn. Call Hank Stinson. Tell him we may have a hostage situation. At the very least, he needs to get here to find that son of a bitch now that he’s finally surfaced.”

“Yes, ma’am. I’m on it.” Troy’s voice softened as he connected with the sheriff’s department and explained why he was calling.

Emma checked Jessica’s pulse and listened to her heart. “I wonder how he found you.”

Drenched in cold sweat, Jessica shook her head, not knowing. “I don’t know if I can do this, Emma.”

Emma went to work, putting on gloves and examining her internally while Tracey worked around her, lowering the end of the bed to give Emma greater access. “You’re going to do great. Push with the next contraction, hon.”

She pushed with all her might and whimpered. “I’m scared.”
I can’t do this!

In a soft, comforting voice from the other side of the curtain, Troy said, “You can do this, honey. You don’t worry about anything but bringing that baby into this world. We’re protecting you both.”

She let out a deep breath and lay back against the bed as the contraction eased. But another one came fast on its heels and Emma nodded at her and she started pushing.

* * * *

A sharp knock at the door startled Charity, Justine, and Grace’s attention away from Grace’s smartphone. She’d been showing them pictures of dresses from her web searches for Charity’s binding ceremony.

Before Charity could rise to answer it, Hank swung it open and came inside. The way his hand rested on his sidearm and the quick glance he took around the room raised the hairs on the back of her neck. Seeming satisfied, he relaxed his stance, spoke into his radio, and took off his cowboy hat.

With raised eyebrows, Grace said, “Uh…hi?”

Hank let out a breath and said, “Sorry to surprise you like that, ladies. We thought we might’ve had a situation earlier.”

After he explained that his office had been contacted and that it involved Jessica Bright, who had arrived in labor a few minutes before, the three of them wanted to go check on her.

“Not yet, girls. The nurse told me she just gave birth a few minutes ago.”

“Oh,” Grace said, “She needs time. Was it a boy or a girl?”

Hank grinned. “A girl. Don’t ask me for her statistics,” he said with a hands up gesture. “All I know is that she’s healthy and Jessica is doing fine.”

Charity gestured at the door and his weapon. “What was that all about?”

“Jessica thought she saw Trevor Dornan inside this wing—right outside your door. She’s unsure now, so they’re pulling the security footage to review what happened. I just wanted to make sure you ladies were okay.”

Charity and Grace exchanged a look.
He wanted to make sure we weren’t being held hostage.
Grace nodded and then smiled at the sheriff. “Thank you, Hank.”

His radio chirped and he replied into it and then said, “They have the surveillance footage ready. I’ll see you ladies later. Hope you’re feeling better, Grace. Veronica told me she’ll be coming by to see you soon.”

After he left, the three of them looked at each other and Grace said, “I can’t wait to get home.”

“No shit,” Charity and Justine both said at the same time. Charity gave her daughter a shocked look.

“What? You pot, me kettle.”

* * * *

Jessica sat propped against pillows in the hospital bed and marveled at the beautiful little girl swaddled in her arms.

“Bella Mia Bright. You are beautiful. And you are mine. With a promising name like that, how can we girls go wrong?” Even fatigue and stress couldn’t take the edge off of the joy she felt as she leaned down and nuzzled her baby’s warm brow. “You’re mine, sweet angel, and nobody is going to take you away from me.”

Tracey slipped in and said, “The sheriff’s here, asking to interview you. Do you want me to take Bella for you?”

Jessica shook her head, unwilling to let her little girl out of her sight. “No, she’s fine. Is he mad?” They hadn’t found a trace of Dornan in the labor and delivery department.

Tracey frowned. “Why would he be mad? You did right by speaking up. And don’t worry, he’s tall and imposing but he’s soft as a marshmallow on the inside. I’ll send him in.”

A knock came at the door and she looked up to see the sheriff, standing there.

“Miss Bright? I’m Hank Stinson. Could I ask you a few brief questions?” She nodded when he pointed at the chair beside her bed.

“Come in, sir, I’m so sorry for the false alarm. I really did think it was Trevor Dornan that I saw. I thought I would know him anywhere, but I…must’ve been mistaken.” Tears filled her eyes and worry edged in. She looked down and realized she was clutching her baby to her chest.

Hank raised a hand to stop her apology. “No apology is necessary, Miss Bright. Given your unique circumstances, I’d prefer that you spoke up. The labor and delivery department here is very vigilant, but things sometimes happen when you factor in human error. I looked at the security footage.”

“Did you?”

Hank nodded. “Shortly after you arrived with Lydia and the others, a flower delivery was admitted. The delivery person had on a baseball cap and he never looked up at the cameras, so the image isn’t conclusive. I hate to ask since you’ve just been through a trying experience, but would you mind looking?”

Her baby let out a soft sigh and she looked down at her again, and nodded. “Of course, Sheriff. I’ll do whatever I can.”

Hank flicked his finger across the screen of his smartphone and then turned it so she could see. “This is the clearest image we could get.”

“You’re right. With the hat it’s hard to tell. His physical build is right, though. He was wiry like that. And he had a big floral arrangement in his hands.” A shudder ripped through her as she remembered the way he’d come at her with those hands, hurting her and whispering hateful words meant to break her spirit down.

Lydia, Tank, and Troy peeked in from outside in the hallway. When Hank saw them, he beckoned them in to ask them a few questions and they told him what they could.

Tank said, “Honestly, my focus was on Jessica, and when I went outside the door, everything looked normal out there, at least as far as I could see.”

A deputy came to the door, a large floral arrangement in his gloved hands. “Sir, we found these in the vacant patient room near the entry doors.”

Hank turned to Jessica, the question apparent in his eyes, and she nodded. “That was them.”

Hank asked the deputy to make sure the vase was dusted for fingerprints.

“Hank,” the deputy said.

“Yeah?” Hank looked up from his smartphone, which he’d been making notes on.

The look on the deputy’s face communicated as much as words could that he needed to speak with Hank privately. He excused himself and joined the deputy in the doorway and Jessica watched as his head fell forward and his shoulders sagged briefly before he straightened back up. He said something quietly to the deputy who nodded and then walked away. When Hank returned to her bedside, his expression confirmed her worry.

“Sir, are you all right?”

He tapped the screen of his phone, blinking hard, and then looked up at her and nodded. “Just got some bad news about a friend.”

“I’m very sorry. Are they okay?”

Hank swallowed and then nodded, a sorrowful smile on his face. “He is now.”

Even though she didn’t know this man well, she couldn’t rein in the urge to reach out to him. She squeezed the top of his big hand. To ask questions seemed rude. Sensing his grief and hoping it was appropriate, she said, “I’m so sorry.”

“Thank you.” Hank sat back, breathed in deeply, and sighed as he focused on his notes. “Okay. I’ll arrange for someone to be here to watch over you while you’re in the hospital.”

“Thank you, Hank,” Lydia said as she came to stand by Jessica’s side. Jessica looked up at Lydia when she sniffled and saw her swipe tears from her cheeks. “We’ll take her back out to the ranch with us when she’s discharged. Hank? Was it Patterson?”

Hank nodded. “He just passed.”

Lydia drew in a deep breath and nodded, wiping at more tears.

Hank cleared his throat as he stood and looked at the two men standing near the door. “Keep up the good work, gentlemen.”

“We’ll keep her safe,” Tank said, absolute certainty in his voice.

She met Tank’s gaze for a second before averting her eyes, doubly embarrassed that not only had her water broken all over him, he’d also been right outside the door while she’d given birth. And Troy had been inside for every moment of the painful process. Her cheeks felt like they radiated enough heat to fill the building.

Standing beside Tank with his muscular arms folded across his chest, Troy reaffirmed. “She’ll be safe out at the ranch with us until this blows over.” When she made eye contact with Troy, all she could see was warmth in his gaze as he looked at her, which made her feel even more self-conscious. She figured she must look a fright.

Hank nodded. “Until we catch him. We’ll hopefully confirm his identity through the fingerprints on the vase. If it was him that you saw, I doubt he’s going to give up so easily.”

“I don’t know if he saw me or not. He may have just been checking. Maybe he’ll give up—”

Hank gave her a resigned look. “Given your position near the desk, and his behavior when he turned in your direction, he saw you. He backed up toward Grace’s door, hesitated, and then thankfully turned and walked away.”

“Grace’s door? Oh no. I forgot she was here, too. Oh my God, that was close. You think it
was
him?”

Hank shrugged. “I’m erring on the side of caution. I can’t seem to keep the women of this town from coming into the crosshairs of bad men, but I can damn sure do my best to protect them.” He leveled his gaze on Tank and Troy. “You two watch out for her and let me know if you have any trouble.”

Tank and Troy nodded but said nothing else. Their stance, muscular arms crossed over chests, standing with booted feet shoulder width apart, said they were ready. She wondered how they’d get any work done if they were constantly watching out for her. How boring was that job going to be?

* * * *

Trevor Dornan cursed softly as he pulled into the coffee shop parking lot. He quickly changed into the other jacket and put on the straw cowboy hat he’d found in a discount store on the way to town. He’d figured in such a small town that their hospital security would be piss poor but he’d been wrong. It didn’t happen often.

He’d considered slipping into that other bitch’s room but he didn’t want to get trapped in a hostage situation that didn’t give him what he wanted right off the bat, namely his bitch and his kid, but she’d been surrounded by people so he’d had no hope in hell of getting close anyway.