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A hint of unidentifiable emotion flickered in his eyes. Today, at least, Tyler Prentiss was projecting the dark, brooding thing perfectly, giving the impression that something more intense was going on.
“That isn’t entirely the case,” he said politely. “You heard me talking with my mother yesterday, so you’re aware that my brother should still be in rehab. I was hoping that if you knew more about the situation, you’d help.”
Sarah cocked her head. “I don’t see how. Rosemary told me about Nathan’s injuries, but I’ve never met him. Oh, unless you’re thinking my dad could do something... I know he’s been spending time with your brother.”
“Actually, I hoped you’d urge Mom to go home. Then Nathan would go, as well.”
Sarah released an exasperated breath. “Doing that would make Rosemary believe I’m unhappy with her work, which isn’t the case.”
“Maybe, but why did you hire her in the first place?” Tyler asked. “Mom doesn’t have any experience. And promoting her so quickly?”
Sarah could barely control her irritation. Her ex-husband had made her feel as if she was incapable of making her own decisions, and she refused to let that happen again.
“I’m not going to justify myself. This is my shop. Your mom says you’re an architect. How would you like me to ask why you chose to put skylights or recycle chutes into one of your building designs?”
“It isn’t the same,” he returned in a clipped tone. She might have hit a nerve, though it was hard to tell with Tyler. He seemed to have no problem revealing anger, but his other emotions were much less clear.
“It’s exactly the same. That’s your business—this is mine,” she retorted.
Tyler’s brown eyes focused intensely on her, but she could tell little from his expression. “Fair enough. Look, I know my mother. She’s a lovely woman with good intentions, but she isn’t the nine-to-five type.”
“She’s working eight-to-four, though that’s beside the point. It’s up to Rosemary if she wants to return to the East Coast with your brother—I’m not going to manipulate her. And for your information, she asked for the job—I didn’t twist her arm to take it.”
“I’m sure you didn’t since she doesn’t have any qualifications,” he snapped.
No matter what Tyler seemed to think, Sarah wondered how well he actually knew his mother. Experience could be gained without a paycheck. From what Rosemary had said about her volunteer work, she had a huge amount of management experience.
Yet in a way, Tyler had a point. Rosemary was a visitor to Glimmer Creek, staying at Poppy Gold temporarily. She’d said nothing about moving permanently to California or whether she would leave when Nathan was ready.
Tyler cleared his throat. “Sorry. That was uncalled for. It’s just that I don’t know what to do. Nathan isn’t getting the care he needs and Mom is so annoyed with me, I doubt she’ll listen to anything I have to say for a while.”
Sarah suppressed a smile. The way he’d made the stiff, embarrassed admission was almost endearing; plainly he wasn’t comfortable relying on anyone else.
“You may be right,” she acknowledged. “But can I ask you something?”
“Of course,” Tyler said, seeming wary.
“Well, I get why Nathan might be better off in rehab, but what will you do if he keeps refusing?”
* * *
IT WAS A valid question, and Tyler wished he had an answer. Confiding in anyone was miles outside his comfort zone, but he might be forced into it. His mother and Nathan’s welfare were too important, and right now Sarah Fullerton seemed the most likely person who could help.
Yet before he could say anything else, Sarah stirred restlessly. “Sorry, but morning is my busiest period. I need to get back to my kitchen.”
Tyler let out a sigh of his own as she turned and disappeared into the bakery. He’d been right about her figure—without the chef’s apron, her body was a delectable balance of slim lines and curves.
He shook his head to clear it. Getting distracted by a beautiful woman was the last thing he needed.
Officially he was under investigation for a recent building collapse in the greater Chicago area, an incident that had injured five men. Prior to the start of construction, Milo Corbin, the owner, had demanded unsafe modifications to the plans. He’d grown so unreasonable that Tyler had resigned from the project. Changes had subsequently been made to his original design, but Corbin and the second architect were still trying to shift the blame to Tyler.
They wouldn’t be successful.
Tyler had gone over his original blueprints and knew they were sound. He’d also kept careful documentation about the alterations Corbin had wanted. Nonetheless, Tyler felt responsible. He should have done more to prevent construction from moving ahead.
Ironically, Corbin had promptly screamed for Tyler’s help after the collapse, so he’d flown to Illinois from Italy to spend a couple of days helping with the search-and-rescue efforts. After all, he’d studied the changes Corbin had wanted and predicted they’d lead to structural failure, so he was reasonably certain of where and how the damage had occurred. With the city engineer out of town, Tyler had even signed a waiver and gone into the building to advise on the safest way to extract trapped workers.
What he didn’t understand was why a particular concrete wall hadn’t held. The thing had crumbled unexpectedly, bringing debris down on him and one of the firemen. Though injured, Tyler had pocketed a chunk of the concrete for later analysis. He’d given it to the lawyers he’d hired in Illinois.
Lawyers.
Tyler was struck by the irony. He’d never been interested in his father’s work, and now he was relying on a bulldog Chicago law firm to protect him.
But no matter what happened, nothing would take away the pain those construction workers had suffered or the fear their families had experienced as they’d waited for them to be found.
CHAPTER THREE (#u347fd3cf-8318-5e2e-85e4-6fa10251c84c)
WHEN TYLER GOT BACK to the suite, he was relieved to see his brother had changed his clothes and was out in the garden.
Needing to accomplish something, he went inside and rang the rehab center to request recommendations for Nathan’s treatment.
“I can give information to your brother, but not to you. Privacy laws are very strict,” Dr. Chin explained.
Tyler gritted his teeth. “But you have talked to me, a dozen or more times since he went into rehab.”
“Yes, but the release he signed has expired. Is Nathan there? He could give me permission. At the very least, I’d like to know how he’s doing.”
“Just a moment.” Tyler went into the garden and held the phone out to his brother. “Dr. Chin would like to speak with you.”
“Maybe tomorrow.”
“He’s concerned about your health,” Tyler said tightly. “And he left a staff meeting to take my call. Please do him the courtesy of listening to what he has to say.”
Nathan simply hunched his shoulders.
Tyler put the phone to his ear again. “I’m sorry, Doctor, my brother is being a jackass.” Even as he said it, he remembered Sarah calling him the same thing.
Damnation, how had she gotten into his head?
“I’m sorry to hear that,” Dr. Chin said. “I’ve been thinking, if you can’t convince him to return, perhaps I...um, can send you some general recommendations. Ones that could apply to most of the recovering soldiers I’ve treated.”
A faint sense of relief went through Tyler. He still thought Nathan should be getting twenty-four-hour care and the doctor appeared to agree, but any guidance would help. “I’d appreciate whatever you can give me.” He provided his email address and disconnected, promising to call again if Nathan’s condition worsened.
Tyler dropped the phone in his pocket. If he thought confronting his brother would do any good, he’d confront him. But he suspected it wouldn’t, so he asked Nathan to take a walk with him instead. The idea was met with indifference and finally refusal. After that, Tyler suggested a game of chess. Nathan still wasn’t interested.
Finally Tyler sat in a nearby chair and put a stern, I-mean-business expression on his face. “Have you seen a doctor since coming to Glimmer Creek?”
Nathan gave him a dirty look. “No. I’m tired of doctors.”
“I don’t blame you, but I need to know what therapy program you’re supposed to be following and any other information you and Mom have left out. How about that medication they were giving you for the nightmares? Don’t you need refills?”
His brother shrugged. “It wasn’t helping, so I stopped taking it. Anyway, I can’t talk now. Kurt is showing me the Poppy Gold greenhouses today. I have to find out when he’s coming.”
Nathan got out his own phone but was obviously waiting for Tyler to leave before making the call.
Tyler finally went inside, hoping it was a good sign that his brother was carrying his cell. In the hospital and rehab center, Nathan had resisted being in contact with friends or hearing about the affairs of the world. Their mother had been the same, which was why Tyler had figured neither of them would have heard about the incident in Illinois. It helped that this sort of story, without any fatalities, usually wasn’t in the news for long. And as it turned out, they also must have been busy getting settled into Poppy Gold.
Tyler massaged the muscles at the back of his neck. The past two weeks had been rough. After being treated for his injuries, he’d returned to Italy and finished his work there, only to fly home and discover his family was gone.
But at least he’d broached the subject of medical care with Nathan, however unproductive the conversation had been. Perhaps they could talk about it as a family and figure out what they were planning from here...because he suspected they weren’t going back to the East Coast any time soon.
* * *
KURT FULLERTON PARKED behind his daughter’s catering business for his usual midmorning check to see if she needed anything.
“Hey, Dad,” Sarah called as he came through the back door. He’d been there earlier, and she still looked so pale and tense that he frowned.
“What’s up?” he asked.
“Just busy.”
Kurt wasn’t sure. Something told him something was going on, but she probably wasn’t going to tell him; she’d inherited his ex-wife’s slender grace and his pigheaded nature.
Wanting to taking care of his daughter was a tough habit to kick, especially since he hadn’t been around much in her early years. After his wife had run off with another man, he’d brought Sarah home to his parents, convinced that caring for a toddler on an army base was impossible for a single father.
Now he knew that he’d given up too easily. Lizzie’s actions had embittered him, and for a while he’d become the hardest-living son of a gun in the army. Instead he should have done his best to be a good dad.
“You hardly ever let me do anything to help around here,” he complained.
“That isn’t true,” Sarah shot back. “You shop for me every week, and you’re always finding something else to do. And that isn’t even counting all the work you did remodeling the two kitchens. Twice.”
“That’s nothing. I like being involved and knowing what’s going on.”
Kurt just wished he’d known more about Sarah’s troubles with her louse of a husband.
A timer buzzed and Sarah hurried to remove loaves of bread from the ovens.
Kurt went to the front counter and got a cup of joe, then ambled down the short hallway to the office to visit with Rosemary.
“Good morning, Kurt. Don’t you want something to go with your coffee?” she asked. “Sarah made poppy-seed muffins earlier. I’ve never seen anyone get as much done as she does.”
“That’s my girl. But I’d better not indulge, I already had her egg and ham pie when I brought over a batch of green onions from the greenhouse.” He patted his stomach.
* * *
ROSEMARY TRIED NOT to laugh. Sarah had confided that her father, along with the rest of the male half of Glimmer Creek, wouldn’t eat anything called quiche, so she’d put a puff pastry crust on top and called it egg pie.
“Working here is terrible for the waistline,” Rosemary admitted. “I haven’t tasted a single thing that isn’t delicious.”
“You’ve got a long way to go before you need to worry about your waistline,” Kurt assured her. “Me, I’ve got a linebacker build, unlike my brothers. I’m glad Sarah didn’t get my shape.”
Kurt’s large family intrigued Rosemary. Nine siblings, and most of them had several children, as well. It was sad that he’d never found someone else after his divorce, but she understood how difficult it was to risk loving again. After all, while her husband’s death had been devastating, the grief had also renewed an old, wrenching sorrow...the loss of her first child.
One-year-old Kittie had been the light of their lives. Bright and full of fun, she’d brought joy to everyone. It was only after her death from spinal meningitis that they’d moved to Washington, DC, and Richard’s dedication to his career had turned into an obsession. Rosemary hadn’t handled the loss any better; she’d dived into fund-raising for nonprofit organizations. They’d even decided not to have more children, only to discover Tyler was on the way.
“Sarah has your eyes,” Rosemary said, hoping her voice wouldn’t break. It wasn’t that she loved Tyler and Nathan any less, but it was wrenching to remember her daughter.
“Except they’re pretty on Sarah.” He grinned and drank a gulp of coffee.
Rosemary thought Kurt’s eyes were nice on him, too. He was an attractive man, not classically handsome like her husband had been, but good-looking, with a reassuring manner.
“Do you ever think about grandchildren?” she asked wistfully. A year earlier, she’d had high hopes of becoming a grandmother. Nathan had been engaged and looking forward to fatherhood, then his fiancée had decided she couldn’t handle being a soldier’s wife.
“I’d love them,” Kurt said, “but Sarah’s marriage was pretty bad. I don’t know when she’ll be ready.” He finished his coffee and got up. “Better get going. I wouldn’t want my daughter to think I’m interfering with your work.”
After a moment, Rosemary heard him in the kitchen saying goodbye to Sarah. She envied their close relationship. She’d seen it from her first day at the bakery when Kurt had delivered a load of supplies.
A thoroughly nice man, Rosemary had concluded after watching father and daughter together. She was glad for them, but it was a reminder that she didn’t have a similar relationship with her own children.
Maybe that was why she’d gone along when Nathan insisted on leaving the rehab hospital...because she’d hoped it might bring them closer.
* * *
GREAT-UNCLE MILT came into the shop to see Sarah shortly before the lunch-hour rush.
“Hey, Uncle Milt, how about a sandwich?” Sarah nodded to Aurelia, who began packing his favorite meal into a bag.
“I should say no, but I won’t. Just put it on my account. I mostly came to tell you about that fellow from yesterday.”
“Oh?” Sarah said cautiously, hoping he didn’t know Tyler had shown up again. “Let’s go for a walk.”
Aurelia handed Great-Uncle Milt his lunch, and they headed down the street.
“I spoke to Zach and he did a standard background check at the police station,” Great-Uncle Milt explained as they strolled toward the city park. “It turns out Tyler Prentiss is connected to an investigation in the Chicago area.”
Sarah nearly tripped. She didn’t have a high opinion of Rosemary’s eldest son, but she didn’t think he was a criminal.
“What sort of investigation?”
“Earlier in July a building under construction collapsed and injured several workers. Prentiss was the original architect, though another architect took over the project in February and made changes. Nonetheless, the owner is blaming Mr. Prentiss. The investigation could take months to resolve.”
Sarah wasn’t surprised that Rosemary had been silent about the incident; it wasn’t something you’d casually discuss. “It doesn’t sound as if he could be responsible if changes were made to his original design.”
“I realize that, and Prentiss’s work is highly regarded, which I’m sure the authorities are keeping in mind. Other than this, his record is spotless. Not even a speeding ticket.”
“I appreciate the update.”
Sarah wasn’t sure what to make of Great-Uncle Milt’s revelation, though it actually made her feel more sympathetic toward Tyler. She knew what it was like to be to be exhausted and not thinking straight.
