Lovers at Heart(35)

“Hey, he’s my hot guy.”

“You left him, remember? Now he’s anyone’s hot guy.”

“Shit.” Max spun toward Kaylie. “What have I done?”

As Kaylie parked the car in front of her house, she said, “You drank too much. We can deal with this tomorrow, after you’re sober and thinking straight. It still feels like the story is a little off. I mean, come on, Max. Everyone gives up something when they get married.”

“You’re right. Actu-a-lly, I think I did the right thing. Now he won’t resemble—reset—resemb. Hold on.” Max covered her face, then shot a finger up in the air and said, “Resent me!”

“Okay, let’s get you inside.”





Chapter Twenty-Nine


TWO THINGS BECAME crystal clear to Treat as he sat by his father’s bedside in the hospital. It was time for him to come home, and he desperately wanted to put down roots—with Max. He’d called her cell phone several times, and either she still hadn’t checked the messages or she was purposely avoiding him, and every second that passed without hearing from her sent him spiraling further into an abyss of loneliness.

“Do you want to go to Dad’s and get some sleep?” Savannah had been at the hospital when Treat arrived. When she’d first called him, their father had been having bouts of dizziness and chest pains. Within the hour, he’d had trouble breathing, and she’d brought him in.

“I’m not leaving.” Rex was right, his father had needed him. He took his father’s hand in his own.

“Rex is coming back in after he takes care of the morning chores. I’m sure it’ll be fine if you want to take shifts.”

“Savannah, I’m not going anywhere.” He didn’t mean to sound gruff, but seeing his father in the hospital bed brought memories of his mother racing back to him. In her last months, she’d been in and out of the hospital too many times to count, and she’d looked just like Dad did now: small and weak beneath the sterile hospital sheets.

“Okay, okay. Dane finally got my messages. He’s in Australia and he’s taking the next flight home.”

“Did you reach Hugh?” Treat clenched his jaw. He’d kill Hugh if he had some lame excuse not to come home.

“He’s on his way, and before you can ask, Josh is on his way, too. He had to move his schedule around before he could leave,” she said. She moved to the seat closer to Treat. “Do you want to talk?”

“No. I want the doctors to finish the goddamned tests and tell us what the hell is wrong with him.”

His father stirred.

“Dad?” Treat rose to his feet as his father blinked the sleep from his eyes.

“Treat? What are you doing here?” He looked around the hospital, confused. “What the?” He looked down at his gown. “Aw, shit. Really?” He frowned at Savannah.

Treat breathed a sigh of relief to see his father hadn’t lost his spunk. That had to be a good sign.

“You weren’t able to breathe, Dad. What did you want me to do, let you die right there in front of me?” Savannah asked.

“Wait. Savannah, you were at Dad’s? Why? I thought you went back to New York.”

His father’s low, rumbly voice answered him. “Turns out Connor Dean’s more than a client, and your sister here seems to have had a falling out with the man who isn’t good enough for her family to meet but is apparently good enough for her to jet all over the world with.”

Treat lifted his brows in Savannah’s direction and held his palm out in question.

Savannah half shrugged, then turned away—her familiar I can’t talk about it right now mannerism.

He couldn’t focus on Savannah and Connor right then. He patted his dad’s shoulder. “Dad, you should probably settle down. They’re running all sorts of tests to see what happened, but they think it might have been your heart.”

“Pfft. I saw your mother again; that’s all. Your sister overreacted.”

Savannah and Treat exchanged a worried look. Treat thought back to when he’d first arrived at the bungalow. He’d sworn his mother was nearby, and even now he wondered if she had been.

His father pushed the button on his bed and raised it so he could sit up properly. “Don’t think I didn’t see that look, you two.”

“Dad,” Savannah began. “We’re just worried about you.”

“Well, how about you worry about yourself a little more. And you.” He pointed at Treat. “Your mother is worried sick about you. What the hell are you doing about that sweet girl, Max?”

This time the look he and Savannah exchanged was one of annoyance.

Luckily, before they went any further down the mother road, the doctor came into the room. Dr. Mason Carpenter had been their father’s physician for as long as Treat could remember. When he retired two years earlier, his son and partner in the medical practice, Dr. Ben Carpenter, had taken over.

Ben and Treat had grown up together, and Treat not only trusted his medical judgment, but he had always found Ben to be a loyal friend. He shook Ben’s hand and pulled him into an embrace, giving him a strong pat on the back.

“Treat, good to see you,” Ben said, his eyes shifting to Savannah.

Ben had had a crush on Savannah when they were younger. Now, as Ben drank her in, Treat remembered the summer after Savannah completed ninth grade and he and Ben had been home from college. Savannah had realized that her body was no longer that of a young girl and had flaunted it as such, much to Treat’s dismay. Ben hadn’t been able to take his eyes off of her then, and from the look in his eyes now, his feelings hadn’t changed one bit.

“Savannah, you’re still here.”

“I’m not leaving anytime soon.” She crossed her arms and narrowed her eyes at Ben.

Treat gave her a harsh glare. Their father had taught each of them better manners than that. Had she lost her mind?

“Don’t mind her, Ben. She’s been up all night,” Treat said.

“Benjamin, when am I getting out of this place?” Hal asked.

Ben smiled and squeezed Hal’s wrist. “Well, Mr. Braden, I have to ask you a few questions. What were you doing when your symptoms began? Savannah wasn’t sure. Were you doing anything strenuous?”

“I told you. He was in the barn when I found him—”

“The last time I looked, honey, I was Mr. Braden. Now, he might have been talking to Treat, I suppose, but Ben here has been to medical school, and I can’t imagine by the way he looks at you that he would mistake you for a mister.”

Ben blushed.

Savannah stewed.

Treat laughed under his breath. Yup, Dad. You’re just fine.

“To answer your question, I was in the barn with Hope,” his father answered. “And, Ben, call me Hal, please. How many years have I been telling you that?”

“And were you brushing her? Mucking out the stall? What exactly were you doing?”

Treat had to smile at the way Ben ignored his father’s request. Ben had told his father at least a dozen times that he had too much respect for him to call him by his first name, and his father still hadn’t stopped grumbling about it.

His father set his mouth in a serious line and crossed his arms. Treat watched his father’s biceps bounce to the same rhythm of his clenching jaw. Sitting up, with annoyance stewing just under his skin, his father no longer looked small or sickly in the hospital gown. He looked like he was ready to haul his butt out of bed and get back to work.

There’s the dad I know and love. Thank you, God.

“Mr. Braden?” Ben urged.

Hal shook his head, then said with a grumble, “Oh, all right. But I don’t want to hear any crap about this, you hear me, Benjamin?”

“Yes, sir. No crap.” Ben flashed a knowing smile at Treat.

Ben had seen his father through every mood on the spectrum. He and his parents had enjoyed many barbeques at the ranch with his family, even though Savannah had never given him the time of day.

“I was talking to Adriana.” He scanned his children’s faces first, then his doctor’s.

Treat knew his father saw exactly what he did on Savannah and Ben’s faces— pity. He worked hard to keep that same look from being recognizable on his.

“Don’t look at me like that. It doesn’t matter what you think of it. Adriana was there, and she was watching over Hope the same way I was.” He shifted his eyes to Treat and pointed a finger. “And you remember what I told you. She’s worried that you’re going to get so lost in your own little world of resorts and whatever the hell else eats up your time and forget about the thing that matters most.” He patted his heart with his strong hand.

Ben drew his eyebrows together, and Treat held his palms up toward the ceiling, as if to say, That’s Dad for you. But Treat couldn’t lie to himself. His father’s words ran through his head, stirring up the message he’d been giving himself all night. Go get Max.

“Mr. Braden, I don’t doubt that you believe you saw your wife, or that you have ongoing conversations with her.”

“Oh Jesus, really, Ben?” Savannah said with a sigh.

Treat touched her arm and nodded toward the chair. She sat down and crossed her arms and legs, bouncing her foot up and down.