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“Well, I’m not the press or the shooter,” Sierra said impatiently, “so will you please just tell me how he is? What should Ace expect when I take him there to see him later?”
Grayson shook his head. “To the hospital? As in tonight? Ah, Sierra, I’m not sure that’s such a good idea.”
“Why on earth not?” Sierra asked the three of them, feeling the weight of their collective disapproval. “Of course Ace wants to see his father. If you had any idea how worried he’s been—”
“We’ve all been worried.” Ainsley straightened so abruptly, the wine nearly overlapped the edge of her glass. “But you can’t. If anyone sees him there—our stepmother, for one thing—I’d hate to see her any more upset.”
“Because she still believes Ace might be guilty?”
“I don’t exactly know what she does or doesn’t think,” Ainsley continued, “only that she’s been confused, pulled in so many directions, with her husband lying in a coma all these months—though they’ve been seeing signs of improvement lately. Signs the neurologist is telling us he’s beginning to regain consciousness.”
“He’s waking up?” Rafe asked. “I hadn’t heard that.”
“He’s beginning to respond to stimuli and simple requests,” Ainsley explained. “But he’s not coherent yet, not talking.”
“Coming out of a long coma’s not like flipping the lights back on,” said Grayson, who, with his first responder’s training, had more medical knowledge than the others. “It’s more like a very slow computer reboot—only you’re never sure which circuits will come back, or in what order. Or which information and abilities might be lost forever.”
“And Genevieve’s not going to want anything, any upset, to possibly interfere with his recovery,” Ainsley said. “But it’s not only her.”
“Who else?” Ace demanded, appearing unexpectedly outside the study’s doorway. “Who else in the family still believes I’d really shoot Dad? Outside of Selina, that is?”
Grayson curled a lip and shook his head. “Don’t tell me you’re counting her as family now.”
“Yeah,” Rafe said, a growl in his voice. “Since when?”
“You know that’s not what I meant,” Ace said, clearly struggling to control his temper. “I just need to know, after everything that’s happened, who it is that’s got my back now.”
“We do, and Marlowe, Asher, all your siblings, Ace,” Ainsley insisted. “Believe me when I tell you, if I hadn’t figured it would have overwhelmed you, this place would’ve been packed to the rafters with your supporters tonight. I promise you, it was all I could do to fend the others off.”
Sierra caught Ace glancing at his brothers, who nodded to confirm Ainsley’s claim, and her heart ached, imagining what the past months’ uncertainty must have been like for a man used to being a leader in the boardroom and among his younger siblings.
Grimacing, Ace glanced back over his shoulder before quietly closing the study door behind him. “Nova and I—we had a really good first talk, and Nikolas was a real rock for her. He mostly stayed quiet, but he seems like a solid guy.”
“They’re great together,” Ainsley assured him. “But how’s Nova?”
“She’s a little worn out after everything, so she’s resting on the sofa in there under an afghan. Nikolas is staying with her in case she needs anything.”
While Sierra wondered whether pregnancy or the emotional meeting with her father was the real cause of Nova’s fatigue, Ainsley nodded, a look of sympathy softening her expression.
Rising from the sofa, she approached Ace. “It wasn’t our brothers and sisters I was worried about,” she explained, “when Sierra mentioned taking you to see our father. Other than Genevieve—”
“It’ll be late by the time we get there,” Ace broke in. “Surely, she’ll be back at home then. They aren’t letting her sleep up at the hospital, are they?”
“I can’t imagine they are, but reporters never sleep,” Ainsley reminded him. “They just plant stringers around the lobby, with their little cameras, to keep an eye out for your appearance.”
“You let Sierra and me worry about getting around the damned reporters,” Ace said, glancing Sierra’s way for support.
This would be the time, Sierra realized, a flutter of trepidation mingling with the chilled bubbles in her stomach. The time to say I’m bowing out now. I’ve gotten him back home, out of jail and reunited with his family like I promised.
But the thought of blindsiding him with the news that she was taking off tonight, so soon after he’d come right out and told her he wanted her to be part of his life forever, had her nails digging into the palm of her free hand as she told him, “I’ll get you in there, Ace. You have my word on it.”
Ainsley frowned, head shaking at them. “Be realistic, Ace. Do you really think the hospital’s going to allow you two in our father’s room after visiting hours, unsupervised, especially when everybody knows you were accused of shooting him?”
“Why not wait?” Rafe suggested. “Get a good night’s sleep tonight first, and I’ll take you tomorrow.”
“That’s right,” Ainsley pleaded, “and it’ll give me a chance to make a few calls in the morning, smooth things over before you go.”
Sierra had to force herself not to roll her eyes at their advice. The kind of advice one might expect from cautious, sensible people like a chief financial officer and a corporate attorney.
