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“We can’t do that. What if she has one of her nightmares and sleepwalks? What will she do with a locked door? She’s only just starting to feel secure.”
Logan had grudgingly conceded Hannah had a point. Besides there were new joys to be found in simply spending time with Hannah and Rhia. Much to his surprise, he enjoyed their family get-togethers immensely. They were a welcome balm to the shit that Lord and Lady Franningham threw his way on an almost daily basis.
At least the courts had agreed for now that granting the couple access and introducing a still traumatized Ria to grandparents she’d never met before were not in her best interest.
Hannah had been by his side at that particular hearing, a quietly seething tower of strength who had torn a strip off the Franningham solicitor when he’d dared to call into question the validity of their marriage and her own introduction to Rhia.
“With all due respect, that is entirely different. And more to the point, where are your precious clients? If they’re that concerned about their granddaughter, then where have they been for the last four years of her life? Tell me that. Why aren’t they here, pleading their case in person, huh? The truth of the matter is they don’t know the first thing about Rhia. They were never interested in her or her mother. They don’t even bother to visit the hospital, and throwing money at the situation is not going to help. Being there is what counts. If that was my daughter in a coma I’d be there every day, trying my utmost to bring her out of it, like Logan has done, and he continues to do, even though it looks increasingly doubtful that she ever will, and they have the audacity to question his ability to be a father to Rhia. They—”
“Enough, Mrs. Bryce,” Judge Hanson had interrupted her. “While I applaud your spirited defense of your husband, this hearing isn’t about his suitability, but what is in the child’s best interests. I’ve read the psychological assessment on her, and on this occasion, I concur with her counsellor’s recommendation that it would set Rhia’s recovery back, if she were to be subjected to the stress of being introduced to her grandparents.”
Hannah had breathed a sigh of relief, and Logan had barely resisted the urge to fist pump the air.
“That doesn’t mean the situation isn’t fluid. I’ve yet to receive full evaluations on Mr. Bryce and indeed you, Mrs. Bryce, and until I have them and can consider all the evidence in front of me this matter is far from settled.”
Those ominous words came back to haunt him now, when he saw the strange car on the drive. They’d been warned that an unannounced home visit was imminent, and Logan had sworn down the phone when Hannah had called him at work. Having caught the same nasty virus that had kept Rhia off nursery for the last few days, she’d sounded exhausted and on the verge of tears. He hadn’t wanted to leave either one of his girls that morning, but the meeting he’d now been called out of anyway, had been too vital to miss.
Now, well now it would cost him a shit ton of money, as the deal would go to the competition.
Of all the days, they had to send someone to investigate the home environment it had to be today, when neither one of them was in best form. He forced himself to not slam the front door shut behind him, and scowled when the little munchkin didn’t appear to wrap herself around his legs like she usually did. As she was much better than she had been, she must be taking a nap, which was probably just as well, because the words drifting into the hallway made his blood boil.
“I see. I’m very sorry you’re not feeling well, but this really cannot wait. What is taking Mr. Bryce so long? I have to say I’m surprised he went to work at all with you in this state. I take it work comes before all else?” The ingratiating tone of what sounded to him like false sympathy set his teeth on edge. He forced himself to unclench his fists and take several deep breaths, while his little dove intervened.
“Not at all, I mean, yes, he can be ruthless in business. He has to be to be successful, but he’s not like that in his private life. He had to attend this meeting. The whole takeover of a new company d
epends on the outcome, and if you must know I insisted he went this morning. I…” A coughing fit stopped her explanation, and Logan had heard enough.
“I’m here now, Ms.—” He spared nothing more than a cursory glance to the middle-aged woman perched on the edge of his leather recliner. Notepad in hand and a thick file by her side, she regarded Hannah over the edge of her silver-rimmed glasses, and gave Logan a perfunctory smile in greeting.
Not that he took any notice because his attention was taken up by Hannah. Jesus, she looked even worse than she had in the morning.
“Hey, babe, here, I’ve got you.” He sat down next to his little dove and gently tapped her back to help with the cough. Her skin felt clammy and feverish to the touch, and when she looked up at him her eyes held that glazed look indicating she was indeed running a temperature. He handed her a glass of water and swore under his breath when her hand shook too much to take it.
“Jesus, woman, you should have called me back sooner. You should be in bed.” He scowled at her, ignoring their far too interested audience, as he held the glass to Hannah’s chapped lips to encourage her to take some fluids.
“I should call the doctor back. This can’t be right. Rhia wasn’t this ill.” He dropped a kiss on Hannah’s damp forehead, shocked how hot she felt.
“These things often hit adults far worse than they do children. Your wife explained Rhia caught a nasty virus from nursery. It’s the time of year, I’m afraid. You’re not the only one of my families to be suffering.” The social worker stood up and held out her hand for Logan to take. Her smile dropped when he ignored the proffered appendage and turned his back on her. She could go sing, for all he cared. He was far more concerned about his wife right now than social niceties.
“Have you taken some paracetamol at least?” He knew his voice had taken on an edge, but he couldn’t help himself. In his peripheral vision, he saw that damn social worker sit back down and scribble something in her notepad. No doubt that he was an arrogant oaf, living up to his reputation.
Hannah nodded and rested her head on his shoulder in a trusting gesture, which made his chest tighten anew. Jesus, if he lost her… Cold sweat ran down between his shoulder blades, and he adjusted their position so that his girl was now sitting on his lap. Raised eyebrows from the crone across the coffee table, and a murmured protest from Hannah. He ignored both, and once Hannah was comfortably settled in his arms, he rested his chin on her head and addressed the woman scribbling into her notepad.
“Make this quick, will you? You can see how ill my wife is. I’m sure there must be rules against barging into someone’s house and interrogating them, when that person is ill.”
Hannah shook her head and tried to say something, but Logan placed his finger over her lips to stop her.
“Hush, baby, no more talking. Just rest. I’m sure I can answer all the questions, Ms.—” He paused and raised an eyebrow in query at the woman across from them.
“Mrs. Offrey, and please rest assured that I’m not here to interrogate anybody. Believe it or not, I’m on your side.” She frowned at Logan’s snort in answer, and Hannah tensed in his arms.
“Please, Logan, just listen to her. I’m sure…” Another coughing fit shook her small frame, and Logan tightened his hold on her until it passed. Then he grasped her chin to tilt it up and brushed his lips over hers. Fuck the audience, he needed that connection right now, to feel her tentative smile at his actions, and to know she was with him. He’d doubted that at times over the last few weeks.
Oh, in bed, at least, she was just as responsive as she’d always been, but when she didn’t think he was looking he’d noticed the inherent sadness that clung to Hannah like an invisible cloak of impending doom. It made him uneasy. Logan wasn’t one to second-guess his actions, but he found himself doing that more and more. It wasn’t a feeling he relished, because the world just didn’t seem right when Hannah wasn’t happy. Fuck knew why that bothered him as much as it did, but he needed her to be happy.
So, he stopped the angry words aimed at this Mrs. Offrey—words which were burning a hole in his gut, and would no doubt earn him another black mark—and nodded at Hannah.
“Fine, I’m listening. Mrs. Offrey, explain to me how you’re on our side. All I see is a woman looking into my private life and making assumptions.” Hannah tensed again, and Logan scrubbed a hand over his face. Grief, he was tired. Neither one of them had slept well in days, ever since Rhia had first fallen ill, and now this shit.
