American Heroes Series - 03 - Purgatory (41 page)

BOOK: American Heroes Series - 03 - Purgatory
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She remained dead asleep. A young
male nurse had followed her in and now stood at the base of her gurney. As Nash
held her hand and struggled not to cry, the young man spoke.

“Sheriff, your deputy told me
about her pregnancy,” he said quietly. “But the doctor had already given her a
shot of Valium by the time we were told.”

Nash nodded, blinking back tears.
“Will…,” he swallowed away the lump in his throat. “Will the medication hurt
the baby?”

The nurse looked uncomfortable.
“Had we known before, we would have given her something else,” he said. “It
wasn’t a full dose, so that’s good news. She should be all right.”

Nash just nodded his head, gazing
at Elliot’s sleeping face and toying with her fingers. The nurse backed out of
the room but Nash caught sight of someone else standing in the doorway. His
gaze locked with Penelope’s as she stood there, watching. He could tell just by
her expression that she had heard every word.

“Your mom and I were going to
tell you before all of this happened,” he whispered. “We’ve got a date with the
governor to get married this Saturday, but it doesn’t look like that’s going to
happen.”

Penelope stepped into the room,
her young face serious. “Mom is pregnant?”

Nash nodded.  “Yes,” he said
softly. “We just found out about it, Pen. We weren’t trying to keep it from y’all.”

Penelope was gazing at her
sleeping mother. “I didn’t think that,” she said, looking rather shocked. “So
she’s really pregnant?”

“Yes.”

Penelope kept looking at her
mother as if seeing the woman through new eyes somehow. “Wow,” she finally said.
“A new baby.”

Nash couldn’t tell if she was
happy or sad about it. “We’re very happy about it,” he said. “I hope you’ll be
happy as well.”

Penelope was gazing at her
sleeping mother. “Sure, I guess,” she replied. “It’s just a lot to absorb.”

“Believe me, I know. I’m still
trying to wrap my mind around it.”

Penelope tore her gaze away from
her mother and looked at Nash. No longer weeping, she looked drawn and intense.

“Nash, I just have to say this,”
she said quietly. “Alec and I already told you what she went through when my
dad died.  I will admit that when we first came here and you and mom got
together, I thought it wouldn’t last.  I figured if she was happy, I was happy,
and maybe you would just help her get on her feet emotionally again.  But my mom…
she loves you so much, Nash.  She loved my dad, but I never saw her show the
same love and affection for him that she shows for you.  It’s like you’ve
become a part of her somehow. Anyway, what I wanted to say is that we all love
you, Nash. You took a family that had been broken by grief and you healed all
of us, not just my mom.  If something happened to you, I don’t think we could
take it. So I hope this job that you’re taking in the capital takes you away
from guns and violence, because we don’t need to go through that hell again.”

Nash was gazing up at her as the
nurses began to come back into the room to take him into surgery. He ignored
the people who were beginning to unlock his wheels.

“I understand,” he said softly.
“On the day your mom and I get married, there’s a little church about a half
mile from Purgatory and I was planning to go there and have a talk with your
dad.  I’m going to tell him how much I love his family and how I promise I’ll
take the best possible care I can of them. I’m going to ask him if it’s okay
with him that I love you and your brother as if you were my own flesh and
blood. I would never try to replace your father, Penny, but I’m hoping you’ll
let me love you and take care of you in his place. And this new baby… well, she’ll
just bind us all together. She’ll be something that belongs to all of us and
she’ll be life renewed, maybe a piece of that new life y’all were looking to
start. I’m pretty sure your dad would be okay with that. If it was my family,
I’d sure be okay with it.”

Penelope was back to crying again
at Nash’s sweet words. She wiped the tears from her face and went around to the
other side of Nash’s bed, kissing him on the cheek and trying to hug him
without messing with the I.V. lines.

“I’ll sit with mom while you go
in surgery,” she whispered. “Don’t worry about her.  She’ll be fine.”

Nash smiled at her, his attention
moving back to Elliot, still sleeping like the dead on the gurney next to him.
He couldn’t kiss her because he was too far away, so he gripped her hand
tightly.

“Love you, honey,” he whispered
to her. “I’ll see you in awhile.”

Penelope, Shane and Alec walked
with Nash to the operating room door.  When they wheeled him inside, the kids
stood there, looking lost, for about a half-hour until Penelope finally made
them all go back downstairs to where Elliot was.

Exhausted, upset, they settled
down into chairs and couches for a good, long wait.

 

 

CHAPTER TWENTY

 

Nash woke up to Elliot standing
next to his bed.

He was groggy and his mouth felt
like paste, but surprisingly, he didn’t feel as bad as he thought he would.
There seemed to be a moderate amount of sunlight in the room, and as he blinked
his foggy vision, he could see bunches upon bunches of flower arrangements.
They were everywhere. Nash smiled weakly at the woman standing next to him.

“Hi, honey,” he murmured. “How
are you feeling?”

Elliot stood there with her arms
crossed, gazing down at him.  She looked stiff and uneasy. “I should be asking
you that question. How are
you
feeling?”

He licked his dry lips. “Not too
bad, I guess,” he muttered. “Thirsty. Can a guy get a drink of water around
here?”

Elliot buzzed the nurse, who came
in and checked Nash’s tubes and monitors.  Then she poured him some water and
held the straw to his lips. Nash took a few sips and she took it away, setting
it down on the table near the bed. 

Elliot stood back, watching the
nurse check out Nash.  The woman smiled at her as she left the room, leading
Elliot to believe that Nash was doing just fine.  Perhaps he was fine, but
Elliot wasn’t. It was around eleven in the morning following the night of hell,
and she wasn’t recovered yet, not by a long shot.  She watched Nash as he
groggily licked his lips and struggled to shake off the effects of the
anesthesia.

“Why are you standing over
there?” he asked, his voice weak. “Come over here and give me a kiss.”

Elliot just stood there, her arms
folded. Then she took a step towards him but came to a halt. Before Nash could
say another word, she broke down into deep, painful weeping. 

“No,” she sobbed, turning away
from him. “I can’t… Nash, I can’t do this. I’m going home, back where I belong.
I can’t go through this again.”

Nash struggled to clear his
vision and his mind. “Can’t do what?” he asked. “What’s wrong, honey?”

She pointed at him, an
exaggerated gesture. “This!” she wept. “You! You almost got yourself killed and
I can’t go through this again.”

He was trying to sit up, trying
to go to her so he could comfort her, but it was fairly impossible for him to
move at the moment.

“Honey, slow down,” he said
calmly, trying to sound firm. “I’m not dead, not even close. I’m going to be
fine. I’m sorry this upset you so much, I really am. I just feel sick about it.
But….”

Elliot was quickly approaching
hysterics. “I’m going home,” she repeated. “I’m going back to California and
I’m going to forget about this new life I tried to start. It was stupid. I
shouldn’t have tried. I shouldn’t have fallen in love with another cop because
I knew what could happen, and it almost did.
Again.
I just… I can’t take
it….”

She was sobbing deeply.  Nash
could hardly move but he could certainly feel; he could feel every emotion of
fear and terror radiating from her. He struggled to keep a level head.

“Ellie,” he said softly. “Come
here.”

“No,” she almost shouted at him.

He tried again. “Ellie,” he said,
very gently. “Please, baby. Please come here. Don’t make me get up and get you.
You know I will if I have to.”

She was sobbing into her hands,
turning to look at him. “Why did you have to go on that call last night?” she
demanded. “You’re the Sheriff, for God’s sake – you shouldn’t have to go on
calls. You need to stay in the office where it’s nice and safe. You don’t need
to risk your life.”

“You’re right,” he said evenly,
hoping if he let her vent she would calm sufficiently. “I don’t want you to
worry about this anymore because it’s never going to happen again. I’ll be
sworn in as Police Commissioner in a couple of weeks and spend all of my time
in an office after that.  I’ll never go on a call-out again.”

“No,” she snapped. “No more
police work. No more cops. I don’t want to have anything to do with cops ever
again.”

Nash was becoming more lucid
along with feeling a distinct sense of foreboding. “Ellie, don’t say that. 
What do you want me to do, honey?”

She looked at him, then, and he
could see the turmoil in the big blue eyes.  She became less angry and more
grieved.

“I don’t want you to carry a
gun,” she sobbed.  “I don’t want you to get shot at. I don’t want to have to
worry about that anymore.”

“All right,” he said softly.
“Then I won’t accept the commissioner appointment. I told you I wouldn’t take
it if it meant losing you.”

She looked at him, guilt in her
expression. “But... but what else will you do?”

He sighed faintly. “My mother’s
family is wealthy,” he said quietly. “They own a sugar company in New Orleans.
They have for almost two hundred years. I’ll go work for them.”

“Sugar?” she repeated. “What
sugar? You never mentioned that.”

“If you come over here, I’ll tell
you.”

Arms still folded stiffly in
front of her, Elliot went over to him. Nash reached out and grasped her right
hand, pulling it to his lips and kissing it reverently.  He kissed her fingers,
her wrist, and he could see that he was softening her. He could tell simply by
her expression. Then he gave a little tug and pulled her towards him.

“Come here and give me a kiss,”
he whispered. “Don’t make me beg.”

Elliot’s angry stance snapped and
she fell against him, her lips on his. She began to cry again and he shushed
her softly, his good hand on her back, pulling her to him. She ended up
climbing on the bed and curling up against him, sobbing her heart out. Nash
finally had her where he wanted her, holding her tightly with one arm as she
wept.

“My mother’s family owns Gammon
Sugar,” he told her, stroking her back and comforting her as her sobs lessened.
“Since 1823, Gammon has owned two major refineries along the Mississippi River
and controls a vested interest in the world’s sugar trade. My mother is one of
the heiresses to the Gammon Fortune.”

Elliot lay with her head tucked
against his right shoulder, wiping at the tears that were falling on his
hospital gown. “She’s rich?”

“Wildly.”

“So why couldn’t she give you the
money to buy Purgatory when it was sold during Probate?”

He smiled faintly. “Well, now,
that’s a good question,” he said. “I guess the short answer is that my brother
and I were the only ones that really wanted to buy the place that badly. I
suppose she would have given us the money had I asked her, but I didn’t ask
her. I haven’t asked my mama for money since I was eleven years old.  Or maybe
I just didn’t want Purgatory badly enough; I really don’t know. I had my
career, my own home, and I was too busy to take over a derelict old house even
if it was my legacy.  Or, it’s just possible that maybe I’d heard of an
interested buyer through Ms. Dawn, a best-selling author by the name of Elliot
Jentry, and it’s further possible that I looked her up online and saw just how
beautiful and talented she was.  Maybe I wanted her to buy the house just so I
could meet her.”

Elliot didn’t say anything for a
moment. Then, her head came up. When she looked at him, she was grinning.

“That is
so
not true,” she
accused.

He smiled at her. “How do you
know?”

“Because you wouldn’t do
something like that.”

“I’ll ask you again; how do you
know?”

She wiped at her nose, still
grinning. “I guess I don’t,” she said. “So you’re saying you sold me Purgatory
just so you could meet me?”

He just grinned at her, a sleepy
grin that had her both giggling and frustrated.

“I don’t believe you,” she said
flatly, lying her head back down again on his good shoulder, listening to his
heart beating strong and steady. “Let’s get back to Gammon Sugar.  Would they
let you go work for them just like that?”

His right arm went around her
again, his hand on her shoulder, stroking it. “When my granddad, Nash Gammon,
died, the company went to my mother and her brother,” he said. “My uncle runs
the company but he’s forever trying to lure me into the business. I guess I’m
just an independent cuss because working for the family business isn’t
something that’s ever appealed to me. I’ve always made my own way.”

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