Snowflake Bay (21 page)

He waited until she was inside, through the oversized sliding glass doors, before pulling back out into the storm in search of a parking space.

She hurried inside to where they were checking in patients who'd come voluntarily into the emergency room. She needed to get to her family, she needed to see Fergus with her own two eyes, needed to stop thinking of all the worst case scenarios and start dealing with whatever the reality of the situation was going to be.

But she'd be lying if she said she wasn't relieved and grateful to have Ben there, too. Their time spent in the kitchen, both entangled and just talking, had created a unity between them, like a private bond. And after the call, he'd been there for her, too, solid, supportive, unwavering. Such a short time to feel the strength of him the way she did at the moment. In other ways, a culmination of a lifetime spent in and out of each other's orbit.

Her family would all support each other, as they always did, but each one of them was grappling with his or her own fears and concerns. So it was a comfort to have someone who was at least one step apart from all the worry, who was just there for her to lean on. It was pretty wonderful to think how nice it would be to always have him there, and not just during the crisis times.

Hannah pushed through a swinging door down the hall just then and rushed toward her. “Fiona! Oh thank God.”

Fiona ran forward and the two of them hugged. Family was pretty good to have in a crisis, too. “How is he?”

They separated just enough to look at each other, but held on to each other's arms. “He's still out of it. They did get him to come to, but he didn't react too well to that, so they've sedated him so they can run some tests. They're fairly certain it was a stroke. It's just a matter of determining what all it's done to him.”

“But . . . he's okay. I mean, he's not going to die.”

“I—we don't know, Fi. I mean, they can't say for sure. If there's an aneurysm, then he might not be out of the woods. Or—I think about Thaddeus, and well—”

Fiona hugged her again. “I know, I know. I'm so sorry you have to go through this after all that happened with Calder's dad.”

“They're running tests. We can't see him at the moment. Everyone is in the ICU waiting area.”

“He's in intensive care?” Fiona really wished her heart would stop pounding so hard so she could listen, could think, could process. “Never mind, of course he is.”

“Come on, you'll feel better when you're with everyone.”

She started to let Hannah basically drag her down the hall, then stopped. “Wait, wait. Ben is parking his truck. I should stay here so he can find me. Is it—can he come back?”

“Logan will make it happen,” Hannah said. “Sometimes having the police chief for a brother does come in handy.”

Fiona just nodded, but her thoughts were still a scattered jumble.

“What were you doing all the way out in Snowflake Bay with the storm coming?”

“Ask our police chief brother about that.”

Hannah frowned, then shook it off, clearly just as distracted by the more immediate events as she was. “I'm glad Ben's here.”

That got Fiona's attention. “You are? I mean, I am, too. More than I ever thought I'd be.”

“Yes, of course I'm glad. Calder is here with me and Alex is here with Logan. Kerry is climbing the walls and driving everyone bonkers. Ben will help to smooth her out. He's good with her.”

Fiona stilled for a moment. “Yes. Yes, I suppose he is. He's good with all of us.”

Hannah's expression turned considering, which Fiona noted as she tried to shove all those thoughts to the side. Now was not the time to discuss the continuing changes in her lifelong relationship with Ben Campbell.

“Uncle Gus is as stubborn as they come,” she said, as much to Hannah as to bolster her own confidence. “No way is he going to let this knock him back.”

“You're right. You are. I just . . . we're all going to have to be there for him, Fi. We have no idea what kind of hurdles he might have to face, and the same stubbornness that will get him through this might make him a holy terror with doctors and nurses.”

Fiona swallowed hard, and inwardly groaned, because Hannah knew that better than anyone, and she was exactly right about Fergus on both counts. “We will be, he knows that. And you know, if Kerry wants to beat herself up for what happened, than she can appoint herself chief rehab marshal and commander of the troops. If anyone can get him back on track, it will be her.” Fi looked at Hannah, who was wiping tears from the corners of her eyes. “And not just because she feels guilty, but because it's what needs doing. Kerry might not be much for longevity, but one thing she's not afraid of is hard work. And she's just as stubborn as he is. She won't leave as long as he needs her.”

“I was thinking the same thing. I hope so. This is the longest she's been home since she took off at eighteen to see the world. I keep thinking any day now I'll get up and she'll be gone again.” She smiled and sniffled. “I mean, she's a total pain in the ass, but I've kind of gotten used to having her around again. You, too,” she said, tears leaking again. “I like us all being home.”

Fiona pulled her into a tight hug. “I do, too.” She finally let go and they both sniffled, then smiled wryly at their blubbering selves. “She won't go anywhere now. I figured she was here for the holidays at least, anyway. And the wedding.” Fiona's mouth formed an O. “Oh crap, Hannah. The wedding!”

“I know, I know. Calder and I already agreed to postpone it.”

“You have? Maybe—don't be so rash about that.”

Hannah raised both eyebrows in disbelief. “Weren't you the one all but setting up a PowerPoint presentation on the reasons we should wait until summer? I figured you'd be the first to champion that plan.”

“I would, but—I mean, I guess we'll need to see what kind of recovery he's looking at, and I know Christmas might be way too short a time frame if it's bad, but, don't you think maybe having the wedding day as a goal will be a good thing for him? Motivate him? I mean, he's walking you down the aisle.”

They both fell silent at that, and Fiona knew Hannah was thinking the same thing she was. It had been almost seven months since Thaddeus had had his stroke and he was still struggling to recover from the brain surgery that had come after, the removal of the tumor that had caused it. They didn't know what had happened with Fergus yet. Much less when or if he'd be walking anyone anywhere. “Okay, okay, let's not get ahead of ourselves. Let's just focus on the here and now, find out what exactly has happened to him. Then we can make plans. Don't announce anything yet, okay?”

Hannah nodded, then looked like she was about to crumple again, and Hannah wasn't a crumpler. Fiona squeezed both of her sister's arms. “Go back to the waiting room, go be with Calder. Let Logan handle Kerry for now. Ben will be in momentarily and you're right, he can help there.”

She nodded, sniffled, and dug out a tissue. “Okay.” She forced a smile through the still welling tears. “I'm glad you're here, Fi. I know I'm the oldest of the sisters, but you're always the one who ends up holding us together. I love you.”

“I love you right back,” she said, touched by her older sister's heartfelt words, but needing to stay the strong one. To that end, she forcibly turned Hannah around. “Go, before I'm blubbering with you.”

The door had just swung closed behind Hannah's retreating form when, from behind her, Ben said, “She okay? How's everyone holding up?”

Fi turned to see him striding toward her. All tall and rugged and dusted with snow. He was solid, loyal, and unapologetically pursuing a relationship with her. An intimate relationship. With her. Fireplug Fi.

And she'd never wanted to be caught more than she did in that moment.

But boy,
her little voice added,
as trouble goes . . . he sure looks like the best kind to get into, doesn't he?

As it turned out, Ben did have Thanksgiving with the McCrae family, only it was held mostly in the hospital cafeteria and at Fergus's bedside. Gus had been moved out of intensive care, but he was still being kept sedated, so he wasn't an active participant. Kerry insisted that he'd feel the holiday vibe and family togetherness and know they were there with him. Ben didn't know if that was true, but he figured it sure couldn't hurt.

Dinner was over, however, and he was now headed back out to Snowflake Bay. He'd gone by and checked on the Cove tree lot first since he was there, saving Jim the trouble, and had already spoken with Jim regarding the status of the other two. It looked like the storm had ended early enough that there wouldn't be any delay in opening the following morning. After a supremely uncomfortable night spent dozing in one of the waiting room chairs, he was happy he'd get at least one night at home in his own bed before the chaos that was the official Christmas tree season began the following morning.

That said, he'd have given up a good night's sleep in a blink if Fiona was in the truck with him, headed back to Snowflake Bay, and the very big, very warm bed that awaited him there.

The county crews were already clearing the main roads and parking lots. Snow in winter was no surprise in New England, so the region was well prepared to deal with the aftermath of its arrival. He'd left Fiona at the hospital, though, because the roads were still in no shape for her little Prius. Logan had taken up what was clearly an ongoing argument with Fiona on her need to get a more rugged vehicle now that she was living back in Maine. Ben had offered to let her use one of the farm trucks in the interim, which had been met with a glare from Logan and an overly sweet thank you from Fiona, who had then turned back and stuck her tongue out at Logan. Which was when Ben had opted to back out of the conversation.

Now that he was alone in the privacy of his truck, though, the memory made him grin. Despite the unfortunate reason for their gathering, Ben had liked being back in the throes of the McCrae family dynamic. Even when under significant stress and worry, their patterns and alliances were the same as Ben recalled from their younger years. Logan bossed his sisters around and they routinely ganged up to overrule him, or ignored him completely and did as they wanted. But the moment they needed to face yet another challenge regarding Fergus's ongoing medical evaluations, they immediately turned to him for support and leadership. Hannah was the calm center to the storm; she was good at summarizing the situation and keeping it from feeling overwhelming. Kerry was a loose cannon, worried sick over Fergus, angry at herself for not somehow miraculously preventing the stroke, and not at all afraid to do whatever it took to be sure he was getting the best possible care. Fiona was the mediator, the fence mender, and occasionally the ballbuster, when needed. Her brother might be the police chief, but in that family, she was the sheriff.

He'd learned a great deal more about her in the past twenty-four hours of up-close and in-person observation. She appeared to have everything in hand, always on top of every detail, overseeing her family's needs as well as Fergus's. But he noted that that was her way of funneling her own fear and worry into something useful. Though it might be a constructive coping mechanism, it didn't lessen the toll the situation was taking on her. He'd started out asking her if she needed coffee, or something to eat, to keep her energy up, but after she'd ignored his queries as she continued to mother hen everybody else, he'd finally just taken her by the arm and steered her to the cafeteria. She hadn't been exactly thankful for his manhandling at first, but as the hours had worn on and what little information they were getting from the doctors slowed from a trickle to nothing, he noted she didn't put up much of a protest.

In the early morning hours, he'd finally gotten her to sit down long enough to lean against his shoulder, ostensibly so he could bring her up to speed on the storm situation outside and on the phone call he'd gotten from his mother. Neither of those reports had contained any new or particularly useful information. The storm had continued to rage and his mother was just checking in to see how things were going, then they'd spent the rest of the call talking about Fergus's situation. What that closeness had done, however, was allow him to stroke Fiona's hair, rub her shoulders a little, until he'd felt her relax into a light doze. It wasn't the truly restorative sleep she really needed, but it was better than running on the fumes she had been on for some time.

He'd ended up dozing off as well, and had woken to find Fiona nestled in under his arm, her hand around his waist. He remembered thinking he could get used to looking down at her first thing in the morning. His grin spread then as he recalled just how she'd looked. Flushed cheeks, fabric wrinkles pressed into her face, mascara smudged under her eyes, and all that curly hair that somehow managed to get into a bird's nest, even when she wasn't tossing and turning. Or wrestling her way out of her man-eating scarf.

He glanced over at the passenger seat in his cab, and thought it was odd that it felt empty in the truck without her. Even silent and worrying, she'd been an energy force that had filled the small space. He missed that. He missed her. “Yeah, you've got it bad,” he murmured, but rather than bring on a moment of
What in the hell are you doing?
worry, it just made his grin deepen further.

He picked up his phone, thinking he'd just check in, see if they'd heard anything else. She'd gone back to the Point with Logan and Alex. He was dropping the women off there, then heading back into the Cove to deal with police business that had understandably ballooned during the storm. Alex had a truck, so they wouldn't be stuck out there. She'd needed to get back to do what was necessary to preserve all the food she'd started prepping for the feast they hadn't had. She'd bring Fiona out to the farm to get her car later on, once the roads were more fully cleared and the temps had climbed back up above freezing.

Calder had left to make his way back to his horse farm and the never-ending chores to be done there, not wanting to pull any of his employees away from their families on Thanksgiving Day if he could help it. Fortunately the storm hadn't had too much of an impact out there. That left Hannah and Kerry at the hospital to maintain their vigil over Fergus and keep them all updated on any news. Kerry refused to leave, so Hannah basically stayed to run interference, and protect the doctors and nurses from Kerry. At some point, Ben figured, she'd drag her youngest sister out bodily, if for no other reason than to shower and get a change of clothes.

It was funny. He'd been an only child, and while the McCraes had always been the big, noisy, crazy family he'd wished he had, he'd spent the bulk of his life, and certainly the last dozen or so years, flying solo. Even with Annalise, he'd never felt like he was connected to anything bigger, or at least deeper. Her family was far from the warm and cozy sort, and the more time he spent around the adult McCrae clan, the more he realized just how separate and apart Annalise had kept herself, too. Ben had always thought that was what suited him about her, that she wasn't all clingy and suffocating, that she allowed him his space.

“Now you can't stand being in the cab of your truck alone,” he murmured. He thought about his mother's reaction to the news that he had been spending some time with Fiona, and that if he had his way, he'd be spending a lot more time with the middlest McCrae sister. He hadn't been sure, given the confusing direction of their previous conversation, exactly what she'd think of that, but he trusted her judgment above all others, which was why he'd gone ahead and told her. He'd tried to make it something of a casual statement, but she'd leapt on it like a starving cat on a mouse. Probably another sign of her hunger for grandchildren, he'd told himself at the time.

But her comments regarding the situation he was facing, with both he and Fiona facing big personal changes, had actually been calm and well reasoned. She was happy for him. And she hoped things progressed. They hadn't gone so far as to discuss what he'd do when it was time to go back to Portsmouth.

His mother was a great believer in letting things sort themselves out in their own good time. That faith was being sorely tested by his father's disease. That was going to operate on its own timetable, which the rest of them would just have to deal with. But even with that harsh truth staring her in the face, she'd cautioned him to take his time, to let Fiona take her time. Besides, she'd told him, rushing was never the best way to enjoy anything. “Words to live by,” she'd told him. “And to love by.”

He'd just picked up his phone, thinking that it wasn't exactly rushing if he called Fiona to make sure they'd made it back to the Point okay, but his phone vibrated first. Thinking it was Jim, or one of the guys already out at the farm doing prep work for opening day, or, if he was lucky, Fiona, he answered without looking at the display.

“Ben Campbell,” he said, keeping his attention on the road. The wind was blowing the powdery snow back over the roads in some areas.

“That is who I dialed,” came the amused, familiar voice.

He groaned inwardly. “Annalise. What can I do for you?”

She laughed in that way he knew all too well. “Oh, that list is far too long for this conversation. I just wanted to follow up on the party details.”

“I'm sorry. I thought I made it clear last time that I wouldn't be attending. My schedule has doubled, tripled even, at the moment. Please extend my regrets.”

“Oh, but come now, surely you can make it by for just an hour or two? It's the perfect showcase for your recent star turn in
AE
. Everyone who is anyone will be here. You could double your client roster in one night. Write it off as a business expense if you need to rationalize the time.”

Ben paused as he debated how to reply. He didn't have any interest in upsetting Annalise. Not because he was avoiding conflict between them, but pissing off Annalise meant pissing off her parents. And while he had no plans to go schmooze the Mandervilles just to expand his client list, neither did he need them actively working against his business and the clients he already had. “As I said, I'm sorry, but I won't be able to make it.”

She huffed. “You're being such a bore about this. When are you back in Portsmouth? I'll come by and we'll figure something out.”

“Why are you doing this, Annalise? Why the sudden interest in my business?”

“I'm not
doing
anything other than offering someone I know and care about an opportunity. I know we didn't part on the best of terms, but neither did we part on the worst. It's not like one of us did something awful to the other. Okay, so perhaps I was awful on occasion, but we've sorted through all that, haven't we? Please say you'll come.”

This was classic Annalise. She didn't whine or bicker or demand or throw fits. She just kept on and on and on until she wore him down and he agreed just so she'd stop pestering him. Then she'd smile, kiss him, and thank him for being smart enough to see things her way. If she was pushing really hard, she might even climb on his lap or whatever other part of his anatomy was available to make sure he wasn't too put out with her. And sap that he was, he'd let her get away with it far too often.

He immediately pictured Fiona rolling her eyes and casting aspersions on the general male populace and the ease with which they were led around by their collective raging hard-ons. Oddly, it was that image that stirred him. Differences of opinion with Fiona weren't about thrust and parry, or wheedle and wear down. She just came out and put what she was thinking on the table, and was more than happy to tell him when she didn't agree with his take on the matter. And he was the one who wanted to drag her off to his cave and see if he could convince her otherwise. He swallowed a snort, thinking she'd probably let him, too. Then tell him where he could stick his clever machinations, as soon as he was done.

With Fiona, even their conflicts kept him engaged, interested, turned on. In fact, if she'd been sitting next to him at that moment, he'd have happily dragged her onto his lap and proven just how lusty the thought made him.

“Ben? You're not even listening to me.”

No,
he thought,
I'm not. And isn't it lovely that I no longer have to?

“I have to go, Annalise,” he said. “I won't have time for a meeting when I'm back. Again, please give my regrets to your folks. You have a good holiday.” He clicked off before she could reply and tossed the phone back on the seat just in time to turn down the long driveway to the farm. He was smart enough to know that Annalise had something else going on, and whatever it was, his participation was apparently a key element. He knew he'd be hearing from her again. “Yet another reason to check your phone before answering.” He could only hope she wouldn't waste her time and his by coming back up to Snowflake Bay.

His phone vibrated again as he pulled around the house and took the road down to the outbuildings and tree fields. “Oh, for the love of—” But when he snagged the phone, he saw that, this time, it was Fiona calling. All thoughts of Annalise vanished for good as he answered. “Is everything okay? Did you hear anything else?”

“I'm out at the Point, but no, no word from Hannah or Kerry. Hopefully the hospital staff hasn't locked them up somewhere.”

Ben smiled at that. “You doing okay? Did Alex at least feed the two of you with that mountain of food she was talking about?”

“She actually wasn't kidding about that. My God, I don't know who she thought she was feeding, but it would take all of us and at least fifty of our closest friends to plow through this spread.”