Her Texas New Year's Wish Page 3
“Hello, Grace,” he said, lifting her hand and squeezing her fingers with what felt like something close to admiration.
She’d always hated her plain, one-syllable name, but on Wiley’s lips it sounded like a poem.
“Hi,” she repeated and felt color heating her cheeks. Too bad she couldn’t blame the pain medicine for her reaction to him.
“How are you?” he asked, like he truly cared about her answer and not just her physical injuries.
“Did you two know each other before the party?” Callum interrupted before she could answer, sounding both confused and irritated.
Oh, I know this man, Grace thought to herself. At least she wanted to know him.
Wiley abruptly released Grace’s hand. Immediately she wanted to reach for him again. Something flashed in his eyes, and she had the thought that he might feel the same as her.
He broke eye contact with her to glance at his brother. “No. You introduced us.”
“That’s what I thought,” Callum said, his voice flat.
Grace forced herself to focus on Callum. “I know the accident wasn’t your fault, Callum. I—”
“Someone is sure as hell to blame.”
She winced and brought a hand to her head at her brother’s overly loud words. Jake and her parents hurried into the room, crowding around her bedside as the Fortune brothers stepped back.
Grace closed her eyes and wished for everyone to disappear other than Wiley. She wanted him to hold her hand again and ask how she was. She wanted to tell him she felt better when he was with her, even though that didn’t make any sense. Still, it felt totally justifiable to her heart.
* * *
“Jake, this isn’t the time.” Grace opened her eyes as her mother placed a gentle hand on her brother’s arm. “Our focus right now is Grace.”
Her brother, older by two years, crossed his arms over his chest. “We can all agree that she wouldn’t be fighting for her life in this hospital bed if it weren’t for the shoddy construction at the hotel.”
“I’m not fighting for my life,” Grace said, lifting a hand to cover her mouth when another bubble of laughter threatened to escape. Her brother had always had a quick temper, but she sobered as she noted the look of consternation that crossed Callum’s features.
“Oh, sweetheart.” Her mother let out a soft sob, and regret pricked at the hazy fog filling Grace’s mind. The last thing she wanted was to upset her mother. “We were so worried when that Fortune woman called.”
Grace searched her brain for the details the doctor had shared about the extent of her injuries. “I’m okay, Mom. I broke my ankle and have a minor concussion.”
Barbara Williams gasped. “A head injury?”
“Minor,” Grace assured her, remembering the weeks after Jake’s car accident when he’d lain in a medically induced coma while they waited for the brain swelling to subside. “Plus a few bruises and scrapes. Everything else came back clear.”
“Are you sure?” her father asked, his tone gruff. Grace knew that rough exterior hid the heart of a teddy bear.
Her parents turned as Dr. Matthews entered the room. “She’s sure. Grace was incredibly lucky that her injuries weren’t worse. We’re going to keep her overnight for observation due to the concussion, but we anticipate a straightforward recovery.”
“Thank God.” Her mother leaned forward to brush a kiss across Grace’s forehead. “My sweet baby.”
“I’m not a baby,” Grace muttered. Even the cloud of fogginess from the pain medicine couldn’t dull the annoyance at her mother’s pronouncement, especially in front of Callum and Wiley.
Despite the caregiver role Grace had taken on during Jake’s convalescence and the fact that she’d been managing her own life for years, her mom and dad continued to treat her like a dependent little girl. She tried to be patient with them, because she knew how much Jake’s accident had made them aware of the mortality of their children.
Things had only been exacerbated when Grace moved back to Rambling Rose after the debacle at Cowboy Country. But her duties at the hotel gave her a sense of purpose and a feeling of independence once again. Now it felt like everything was in jeopardy.
Dr. Matthews frowned as she swiped a hand across her cheek, obviously misinterpreting the reason for her unwelcome tears. Grace didn’t care what had caused the balcony’s collapse, assuming nothing like that happened again. She did worry about what her recovery might mean for her future.
“That doesn’t change the fact that someone is responsible for my sister being hurt.” Jake shifted his glare between Callum and Wiley.
Callum’s mouth thinned. “The hotel will take care of any medical expenses not covered by insurance. Our priority is that she feels better as quickly as possible.”
“To cover your assets,” Jake muttered.
“Not at all,” Callum countered.
“Do you really need to have this discussion in front of Grace?” the doctor asked impatiently.
“Or at all?” Grace added. She sent a beseeching glance toward her brother, silently pleading with him to give it a rest, but Jake only shook his head.
“You want to step out into the hall for a moment?” he asked Callum.
“Good idea,” Callum agreed, and turned for the door.
Grace reached for her father’s hand. “Don’t let Jake be rude, Dad. This wasn’t Callum’s fault. The Fortunes aren’t to blame. I know it.”
A muscle ticked in Mike Williams’s bearded jaw. Her father retained the stocky build he’d had as younger man, and added a few inches of girth around the waist. “I’ll try to keep him calm.” He patted the top of Grace’s hand. “We’re glad you’re okay, baby girl.”
Her stomach knotted as she watched her father follow the two younger men out into the hall.
Dr. Matthews gave her an encouraging smile. “You doing okay?”
“Fine,” she murmured.
Her mom began to pepper the doctor with a litany of questions about her injuries and a recovery plan. Grace hated that she was causing her family this kind of worry or that she could be seen as a burden to the hotel.
“That ‘fine’ didn’t seem convincing,” Wiley said as he lowered himself into the chair next to her bed and scooted closer. “You’re going to be okay, Grace. I promise.”
She automatically smoothed a hand over her hair as if she had a reason to worry about looking pretty for Wiley Fortune. He was so close she could reach out and touch him. The urge was both overwhelming and nonsensical.
“You don’t owe me any promises,” she said instead, working to keep her wits about her despite the pounding of her heart and the effects of the pain medicine.
“I get that.” He offered a tentative smile. “I can’t seem to help myself.”
She blinked and then looked away, wondering if he was truly as sincere as he seemed. Her mother was still talking with the doctor, nodding furiously and taking notes on a small pad of paper she’d pulled from her purse as he spoke in hushed tones. Her father had closed the door behind him when he’d ventured into the hallway. Grace had a feeling Jake was giving Callum all kinds of trouble, and she wished she could make it stop.
“My brother is protective,” she told Wiley. “I’m sure he’ll realize that the balcony collapse was an unfortunate accident. Not anyone’s fault.”
“It’s good that you have people to look out for you,” he said.
“I guess you’re right.” She ran a finger along the edge of the thin blanket that covered her. “Although at the moment, I wish Jake would back off. I do want you to know that his accusations aren’t personal. He doesn’t have it in for your family or anything like that.”
“Good to know.” Wiley studied her for a long moment and then lifted his hand like he might touch her. With a shake of his head he drew it back again, and disappointment pounded through
Grace.
“Do you have any other brothers or sisters?” he asked.
She got the impression he was trying to distract her from worrying about what kind of scene might be unfolding in the hall.
“No.” She flashed a smile. “We’re a small family compared to yours.”
“Nothing wrong with that.” He returned her smile. “What about a boyfriend?”
She felt her mouth drop open, and he immediately rose from the chair. He scrubbed a hand over his jaw, looking uncomfortable. “I’m sorry. Forget I asked that. It’s none of my business.”
“No boyfriend,” she told him quietly, feeling heat rise to her cheeks. “My focus right now is the training program at the hotel.” She wiggled her toes, which stuck out of the cast on her left leg that stopped just below her knee. “This couldn’t have come at a worse time.”
“Is there ever a good time to be standing on a balcony when it collapses?” Wiley asked, smiling again. Teasing her. Possibly even flirting with her?
Before Grace had a chance to process that, her father and Callum reentered the room.
Her mother took a step away from the doctor and frowned. “Where’s Jake?”
“I sent him home,” Grace’s father said with a small shake of his head.
Callum’s cheeks were flushed, his jaw taut. He motioned to Wiley. “We should go.”
Grace sat up straighter on the bed. She wanted to protest Wiley leaving, but that would be stupid.
“Thank you for being here with me.” She looked to Callum first before turning her attention to Wiley. “It helped a lot.”
“I’m glad,” he said, and the intensity in his gaze made it feel like they were the only two people in the room.
“Grace, I can’t tell you how sorry we are that you were hurt tonight.” Callum’s commanding tone forced her to return her gaze to him. “Like I said earlier, anything you need, our family will take care of it. Just focus on getting well again.”
“And back to work,” she added quickly. “I want to get back to work as soon as possible. Please let everyone know that.”
Callum smiled tightly. “Of course.”
“Work is the last thing you need to be concerned with right now,” her father said with a sniff. He gave Callum a sidelong glass. “I want confirmation that your hotel is safe before I let my little girl go back there.”
Grace bit back a frustrated groan. Was her father trying to make the Fortunes angry? Her potential future at the hotel meant everything. She wouldn’t let anything—not even a collapsing balcony—jeopardize that.
“I understand, sir,” Callum answered, but she could see by the set of his shoulders that it bothered him to have his workmanship called into question.
“It’s fine.” Wiley said, moving close to her again. His fingers brushed the top of her cast and despite the layers of plaster, she felt the touch like he was caressing her skin. “Callum understands that your family is upset. I’ll talk to him.”
“Thank you,” she whispered, and bit down on the inside of her cheek to stem her tears. She didn’t want to start sobbing in front of the two Fortunes on top of everything else.
Wiley thanked the doctor and offered a heartfelt reassurance to her parents, then followed Callum out of the room.
“I’ll give you all a few minutes,” Dr. Matthews said, “and then we can talk about next steps.”
When the door closed behind the doctor, Grace let the tears flow.
“Oh, sweetie.” Barbara was at her bedside in an instant. “You must have been terrified.”
Grace took the tissue her mother handed her and blew her nose. “It happened so fast I barely had time to be scared.”
“The point is it never should have happened in the first place,” her father said, crossing his arms over his meaty chest. “What the hell kind of karma are we saddled with, Gracie, that we almost lose your brother and now you?”
“You didn’t almost lose me, Dad.”
“A second-floor balcony collapsed with you standing on it,” Mike reminded her—as if she needed reminding. “You’re very lucky.”
“I know.” Grace crumpled the tissue. “My injuries aren’t anywhere near what Jake went through. I don’t want either of you to worry about my recovery process. I’m going to get back to normal sooner than later.”
“You can’t rush it,” her mother said, smoothing the hair from her forehead. “Let me get you a mirror and a wet towel. I’m sure you want to fix your face a bit.”
Grace lifted a hand to her cheek. Fix her face? What was wrong with her face?
“You’ll move home, of course.” Her father’s tone brooked no argument.
Grace argued, anyway. “I love my apartment, Dad. I can recover there just as easily.” In truth, she didn’t exactly love the cramped walk-up she’d rented when she returned to Rambling Rose, but it was better than moving back in with her parents.
Her father snorted. “You live on the second floor of a building with a staircase so narrow I can’t believe it’s even up to code. No way can you manage that with a cast.”
“I could try,” she insisted, even though she knew her dad was right.
“Grace Elizabeth.”
She resisted the urge to roll her eyes but knew she had little chance of winning an argument when he used her middle name, as well.
“I appreciate the offer,” she said instead. “It would make things easier until I’m out of the cast.” Her parents lived in a quiet section of Rambling Rose in the same house Grace had grown up in. The house, a rancher, wasn’t big, but it did have plenty of space for her.
“We’ll take care of packing your things,” her mother said, returning from the bathroom with a small handheld mirror and a stack of wet paper towels. “All you need to focus on is resting.”
And returning to work, Grace thought to herself. No point in saying the words out loud and engaging in another argument with her parents.
She took the mirror and a paper towel from her mom. “Oh, no.” She glanced up and met her mother’s concerned gaze. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“You’ll clean up in a jiffy,” Barbara said brightly.
All Grace could think about was Wiley seeing her like this. The cast was one thing, but her face was a mess. It wasn’t injured—for that she was grateful—but she looked like she’d been on a three-day bender. Her hair hung limp around her shoulders and stuck to her head in several places. Her skin was pasty and pale, and the mascara she’d carefully applied before the event was puddled under her eyes.
If she had any question as to whether Wiley Fortune had been interested in her or simply concerned about her being injured at his family’s hotel, she was fairly certain her appearance answered it.
Her ruined makeup and the ruined evening seemed to be par for the course in Grace’s life. Finally things had been turning around for her, and then something had to happen to send her veering off her chosen path once again.
She began to wipe her face as she listened to her parents make plans for her unexpected homecoming. Grace couldn’t help but wonder if she’d ever truly attain the future she wanted so badly.
Chapter Three
“That was sure as hell a shock.”
Wiley turned as Steven approached from one of the hotel’s patio doors. His brother kicked a small piece of terra-cotta-colored stone as he walked toward Wiley.
It was nearly nine on the morning after the party. Wiley wanted to survey the balcony rubble in the daylight and had held out an odd kind of hope that things wouldn’t seem as bad in the aftermath of the accident.
Instead, they were worse.
The balcony’s deck had ripped off the exterior wall, sending thousands of pounds of concrete and metal plummeting to the ground. Grace had fallen a good twenty-five feet, and it was truly a miracle she hadn’t been hurt worse.
He said as much to his brother, who nodded. “Callum said she was in good spirits at the hospital. You were there with him, right?”
Wiley nodded. “She was also doped up on painkillers,” he muttered. “I’m not sure we should judge her feelings about the accident based on last night, especially not if her family has any influence on her opinion.”
Steven nodded. The two of them had an unspoken language. Wiley had been a toddler when their mother married David Fortune, who’d quickly adopted both of his new wife’s young sons and given them his name. Wiley was close to all of his siblings, but he and Steven had a special bond.
Steven had been a committed bachelor until he’d met and fallen for Ellie Hernandez, the mayor of Rambling Rose. Things had started off rocky between them, but they’d quickly fallen deeply in love. Another Fortune who found his perfect future in this small Texas town. “That’s to be expected, but we’re all committed to doing the right thing by Grace. She’s been a huge asset to the hotel. I know Nicole and Mariana feel the same.”
“She’s special,” Wiley said as his gaze zeroed in on a flash of silver under a pile of debris.
“That’s an odd description coming from you. I didn’t realize you and Grace had met before last night.”
He could feel Steven studying him but didn’t meet his brother’s gaze. “We hadn’t.” Wiley walked forward, carefully picking his way through the mess.
He wore dark jeans and a cotton sweater plus the cowboy boots the triplets had given him for Christmas. As a confirmed city slicker, Wiley felt a little strange sporting boots, but they seemed to be expected in Texas.
He bent down and pulled a high heel from the rubble. Clearly one of Grace’s shoes. The image of her unconscious on the ground flashed in his mind again, and his chest clenched in response.
“What’s the deal?” Steven asked, sounding both curious and concerned. “You went to the hospital with Callum, and he said you were acting strange. Now you look like you’ve seen a ghost. If you and Grace don’t know each other, why are you—”
“She could have died,” Wiley blurted out, then rolled his lips inward. He needed to get a handle on his emotions when it came to Grace Williams. He couldn’t explain to his brother the connection he felt with her. It had been immediate and intense, like a bolt of lightning slamming through him. “She was injured in a fall at our family’s hotel. The hotel that Fortune Brothers Construction built. We’re responsible for her, Steven.”