A Bride Worth Fighting For (2 page)

The medical staff left, replaced by a woman whose platinum-blonde hair had been sprayed into a perfect immobile style. A diamond necklace settled against the collar of her ivory silk blouse. Gwen’s mother would have been terrified she’d get mugged if she stepped out of her apartment wearing that necklace.

“Gwen, I’m so happy you’re awake. How are you feeling?”

No matter how hard she stared at the woman, not an ounce of recognition washed over her. The more she tried to think the more her head pounded. What would give a person such a horrible headache? Cancer. Maybe she was dying, just like her mother.

“My head hurts,” she whispered.

“Well, that’s to be expected. Considering.” The woman flipped her stylish scarf over her shoulder.

Considering what? A mental illness that left her trapped in a fog, unaware of the passage of time? Had she become so depressed after her mother’s funeral she’d gone insane?

“You’re not my mother.” She blurted the one thing she knew with absolute certainty.

“Of course not.” The woman laughed. “I’m your mother-in-law—almost.”

Mother-in-law? That meant….

“I’m married?” She dropped her gaze to her left hand. She wore no ring or any jewelry to jog her memory. The chipped rose-colored nail polish and bare cuticles suggested a grown-out manicure. Although she knew what a nail salon was, she couldn’t remember a specific instance of being inside one.

“Engaged.”

Trying to remember getting a manicure made her head throb so badly she didn’t attempt to consider why the backs of both her hands were bruised and taped with IV lines. However, she couldn’t avoid the woman’s bombshell announcement.

She was engaged.

She loved someone.

Squeezing her eyes closed, she wished the nightmare away. If only the intense pain in her head would allow her to pass out so she didn’t have to think anymore.

“You don’t remember your fiancé?” the woman snapped.

Despite the blankets covering her, Gwen shivered. Not recalling her fiancé would not endear her to her future in-laws. On the other hand, bluffing her way through required a mental strength she didn’t possess.

“I’m sorry. I don’t know what happened to me or how I got here.” Pain sliced through her forehead, wrapping around her skull until the ache at the back of her head consumed every thought. “My head. Oh God. Doc. I need a doctor.”

“Before we bother the doctor, let’s try giving your memory a kick start.” The woman gestured to the doorway. “Meet your fiancé, Tucker Wilde.”

What the hell was Darlene up to? Tucker froze in the doorway to the hospital room. From the bed, Gwen shot him a weak, panicked smile. After lying in a month-long drug-induced coma from the doctors’ desperate attempt to heal the swelling and trauma to her brain, she finally displayed an emotion. She was alive. He wanted to gather her in his arms and laugh and cry with relief.

“It appears,” Darlene said to him, “that your fiancée has amnesia and does not remember us.”

Whatever his stepmother was trying to pull, Tucker had no intention of going along with her manipulative bullshit.

Gwen’s tremulous smile faded. “I’m sorry, really. If you can just explain what happened, I’m sure I’ll remember.” Tears glistened in her eyes, and her hands shook on top of the covers.

After everything Gwen had been through, Darlene had some nerve to insert even a hint of accusation in her tone, let alone fabricate lies about the situation. To make a person cry the moment she came out of a coma was unconscionable. Of course, he’d known for years Darlene had no conscience or scruples.

He strode to Gwen’s bedside and took her ice-cold hand in his. “You have nothing to be sorry for. Our family should be apologizing to you.”

But with John barred from entering the hospital, his father gone in every way that mattered, and Darlene unrepentant, he alone was left to apologize and help her through the mess they’d created.

Gwen curled her fingers around his, and a vise-like pressure squeezed his heart.

“Will you help me remember?”

“Of course.” He couldn’t deny her anything, and after a month of fruitless searching, he needed answers. Why was Darlene so set on including Gwen in the family? And why had Gwen agreed to the marriage despite the lack of love on both sides?

Propped against the pillows, she looked so fragile, pale, and exhausted, he refused to force her to relive the trauma of the accident, even as it played in an endless, nightmarish loop in his head. She’d be better off never remembering.

“Tucker, can I speak to you alone for a moment?” Darlene tipped her head toward the doorway.

He didn’t want to leave Gwen’s side. Darlene couldn’t manipulate him to do her bidding the way she had his father and brother, although God knew she’d tried. But after spending the past month in the hospital to monitor and minimize whatever hold she had over Gwen, he’d take any action necessary to get her poison out of the room.

Avoiding the IV-insertion area, he squeezed Gwen’s hand. “I’ll be right back.”

She didn’t reply, but her gaze followed him, making his shoulders itch, as he ushered Darlene from the room. He could only imagine Gwen’s speculation and confusion as she tried to come to grips with learning he was her fiancé. He should have denied it the moment the words came out of his stepmother’s mouth. He had no explanation for why he hadn’t.

He closed the door behind him then glared at the woman who’d manipulated everyone he’d ever cared about. “Why did you tell her I was her fiancé?”

“We’re not supposed to say anything to upset her, so I couldn’t very well mention John,” Darlene shot back with an innocence that had never fooled him.

“You didn’t have to lie to her. Why lead her to believe she’s engaged at all?” The panic on Gwen’s face when Darlene introduced him sickened him.

“I’m protecting her, and I’m not losing her as a daughter-in-law.”

As if any woman Tucker brought into his life would consider Darlene to be true family. But at least he’d moved a step closer to an acknowledgement of whatever self-serving purpose Gwen’s connection gave her.

“Besides, John will come to his senses. The allure of working as a car salesman will wear off fast, especially when he finds himself downsized.”

How could she convince an independent business to fire his brother? He didn’t know, but he didn’t question it either. She’d been able to convince a judge of his father’s mental competence and the hospital staff that John was a threat to Gwen’s health and shouldn’t be allowed in her room.

When John returned, Darlene would likely insist Gwen had been confused if she thought she’d heard Tucker’s name when she awoke in the hospital. She’d probably even accuse her of being disloyal to John.

The lost, vulnerable look in Gwen’s eyes as she watched him leave the room had sealed his fate. With her mother deceased, her father not part of her life, and her ditzy maid of honor moving across the country, she needed someone she could depend on while she healed.

As far as he could tell, she had no one else, and he couldn’t leave her in Darlene’s hands. Regardless of Gwen’s motives before the accident, for the past month she’d been nothing but an innocent victim. He had a chance to influence her before she remembered her willingness to make a deal with Darlene. Even if he couldn’t change her mind, he had a better chance of figuring out what she was up to by sticking close to her.

Being engaged was pretty darn close.

***

Having fulfilled her token appearance to remind everyone that, as Gwen’s self-appointed next of kin, she was in charge, Darlene left. The approach had served her well after his father’s stroke, but she’d had the advantage of being Dad’s wife. Claiming the title of fiancé could work to Tucker’s advantage, though he had no intention of pointing it out.

After waiting to make sure she wouldn’t return, he opened the door and stepped into Gwen’s room. The bruises and gash had healed until only a small scar marred the center of her forehead. With her eyes closed, she appeared innocent and peaceful, and he longed to preserve that image for both their sakes.

Letting her sleep, he meandered around the bed and stared out the window at the darkening sky. He preferred to be honest and straightforward in his dealings with people. After watching Darlene suck the will to live from his father, he hated games and underhanded tricks. Yet he’d jumped into her game today without learning the rules or how to win.

He could stop the game by refusing to play. He’d provide emotional support and companionship while Gwen remained in the hospital. As soon as she became mentally stronger, he’d tell her the truth. He wouldn’t let either of them be manipulated by Darlene’s scheme.

A doctor tapped on the door and strode in. Tucker turned from the window as Gwen stirred on the bed.

“Ms. Fairfax, I’m so glad to see you’re awake. How are you feeling?”

“Headache,” she murmured. Skimming her hand over her forehead, she flinched.

“Those may stick around for weeks, months, or perhaps years.” He brushed off the complaint.

“Years?” Horror filled both her voice and her expression. “My head hurts so much, I can’t think.”

“Don’t try then.” The man shrugged. “You don’t want to overdo it.”

“You want me to be a vegetable?”

“Considering the amount of swelling and contusions in the brain, we expected you to stay in a permanent-vegetative state. You should be grateful you’ve recovered so much brain function.”

Despite having lived through the days of dire predictions followed by the weeks of increasing but cautious hope, Tucker flinched at the doctor’s harsh bedside manner.

“But I can’t remember the past ten months at all.” She glanced at him and then quickly looked away.

She couldn’t remember him. She couldn’t remember John. Even though he’d promised to help her, he no longer knew if he wanted her to recall the truth.

“We’ll keep you here for another day or two for observation,” the doctor said. “After that, you can continue resting and relaxing at home. Your future mother-in-law has made arrangements for you to go home with her after you’re released.”

So Darlene’s plan was to get Gwen inside her home and under her complete control. No way would he let Gwen end up like his father. “She’s been in a coma for a month. You can’t consider sending her home yet.”

“Insurance regulations.” The doctor shrugged again, as if actual medical care took a backseat.

“When can I go back to work?” Gwen turned to Tucker, her green eyes filling with panic. This time she held his gaze. “Do I have a job? Do I have a home? Why can’t I remember these things?”

She didn’t need a fiancé. She needed a friend. If Darlene hadn’t opened her mouth, he might have been able to offer his support instead of adding to her distress and confusion. If he told her the truth now, she wouldn’t trust him, and she’d push him away, leaving her with no one to help her make sense of her life or keep his stepmother from taking advantage of her.

He strode to the bed and took her icy hand in his. “Don’t worry. I’m staying by your side, and we’ll figure things out as we go.”

“Thank you.” She hung on to him so tightly he felt like a fraud.

“A discharge liaison will come in tomorrow to talk to you about what you can expect when you go home,” the doctor continued.

“What if she chooses not to stay with Darlene?” Tucker asked. That scenario would only happen over his dead body.

“I can’t sign off on you staying alone for the first week, Gwen, but if you have a competent adult for support, I have no interest in who the person is, as long as you’re comfortable with the choice. You can talk this out with the liaison tomorrow.”

Tucker gritted his teeth. If only he could rip her out of the hospital and take her someplace where the people caring for her actually cared about healing her.

The doctor picked up a clipboard at the end of the bed and frowned. “Apparently, someone already researched alternate arrangements for you.” He pulled a brochure from under the metal clip.

Releasing Tucker’s hand, Gwen took the glossy paper, squinting at it. “The Wiccan Haus. What kind of place is it?”

“I’ve never heard of it, so I can’t offer insight. But our liaisons have excellent resources for post-hospital recovery options. Consider it, especially if you don’t want to move in with your mother-in-law.” The doctor headed out of the room.

Tucker bit back the instinct to correct Darlene’s title. She had never been a mother to him or John. She’d seen his father for the lonely widower he’d been and taken advantage of him from the beginning. He would not let Gwen be taken advantage of, too.

She turned to him. “Have you heard of this place?”

He shook his head, focusing on her brochure. “What is the Wiccan Haus?”

“A resort and spa.” A small smile touched her lips as she read. “Who wouldn’t want to hang out at a resort for a while?”

“Someone who cares about the natural environment that the resort owners destroyed in order to make boatloads of money off tourists.”

The hope in her eyes wilted along with her smile.

Shit. First thing after she awoke from a month-long coma, he slapped her down. Considering she had no memory, he couldn’t hold her responsible for setting off his hot-button issue. Memory lapses or not, most of the public was unaware of the destruction and disruption a high-traffic resort brought to fragile natural landscapes.

He leaned closer to read the accommodation’s tagline. “‘A place of spiritual and emotional healing.’” That type of healing struck him as more suited to a shrink’s office or a religious organization. Resorts tended to tout opportunities to relax and unwind.

He opened the paper and skimmed the details. “This place is off the coast of Maine. One ferryboat of only twelve guests arrives each week. Stays are booked by the week.”

Not thousands of guests pouring through as he’d assumed, keeping the human footprint at a manageable level. If she went there, she’d be away from Darlene for an entire week.

“No electronics,” he read. An asterisk at the bottom mentioned limited access to a computer and a phone at the main desk. Darlene wouldn’t be able to barrage her with texts, e-mails, and phone calls.