“I see,” Claire said again.
This time her tone seemed even more distant. She was probably trying to figure out why this stranger had intruded at what she must fear might be her grandfather’s death bed.
I was always so insanely jealous…. She was his granddaughter. She had a right to his time and his interest.
Was that why Raine had been so determined to come? Because she was still jealous? Ethan wondered. Except that didn’t fit the impression he’d gotten when she’d talked about the old man.
Of course, his assessment hadn’t necessarily been made by either his logic or his training. Something far more primitive, more physical than cerebral perhaps, drove his desire to believe she’d had no ulterior motives in coming here.
“You didn’t know about me, did you?” Raine asked.
“Know what about you?”
There was a hint of arrogance in Claire’s question, which might be the result of tiredness or of strain. Of course, it was understandable that Griff’s wife wasn’t reacting with her usual poise and kindness. To be fearful of losing her grandfather and then to be introduced to a strange woman who claimed to have a long acquaintance with someone to whom she had always been very close…
“It doesn’t matter,” Raine said. “I just thought he might have mentioned me.”
Claire’s lips parted as if she wanted to continue her questions. Before she did, however, she glanced at Griff. The small negative movement of his head caused her to close her mouth without another comment.
Ethan wondered which of them Griff was trying to protect—his wife or Raine or maybe even Ethan’s investigation. He couldn’t believe the very pragmatic head of the Phoenix actually thought Raine McAllister might make a difference in the investigation, so Griff’s decision to put an end to this increasingly awkward conversation must have been personal rather than professional.
“I’d like to see him.” Raine’s voice was properly subdued, considering the circumstances, but she sounded as if she thought that request to be reasonable.
“You want to see my grandfather?” Claire obviously couldn’t believe what she’d just heard. “Do you have any idea—”
“He’s only allowed one visitor per hour. On the hour,” Griff intervened. “And for only ten minutes.”
“That would be more than enough time,” Raine said. “Any time at all, actually—”
“Only family is allowed in the room,” Claire snapped, making no pretense of politeness this time.
Raine smiled at her, apparently willing to overlook her rudeness. “You’ve had him your entire life, Claire. Surely you can spare me ten minutes.”
“Just who the hell do you think you are?” Claire finally exploded, her face flushed and angry.
“His daughter,” Raine said.
THE CALM BEEP of the monitors and the low light of the glass-walled cubicle were soothing after the tenseness of the scene in the waiting room. She should have been able to handle that better, Raine thought. Despite the number of times she had tried to imagine a meeting with her father’s family, nothing had gone as she’d expected.
She was genuinely sorry to have caused Claire more distress, but she hadn’t seen any other way to respond to what she believed was her father’s convoluted method of reaching out to her.
When it had become clear Claire was determined to keep someone who had been a mere employee from seeing her grandfather, Raine had felt she had no other choice than to claim her rightful place at his side. And, of course, it would all have to come out eventually.
She supposed she should be thankful Claire’s mother hadn’t been here. If it was that difficult to learn that you had an aunt you’d never known about, how much more startling would it be to discover the existence of a half sister? One that no one had bothered to tell you about. Not even your father.
She forced her eyes away from the digital display to watch the even rise and fall of Montgomery Gardner’s chest. The ventilator breathed for him, its slow rhythm almost mesmerizing.
She stepped nearer the bed as the nurse pulled the curtain closed to give them a modicum of privacy. For a moment the features of the man in the narrow, railed bed were unfamiliar. Almost alien.
Not only were the tubes and wires distracting, the signs of the attack he’d suffered were brutally clear. Blood had pooled beneath the thin skin under his eyes, blackening both of them. The gash on his forehead had been neatly stitched, but it was long and swollen.
She resisted the urge to touch his cheek, putting her hand on the top of his wrist instead. His skin was cool and dry.
Too cool? she wondered, but the steady blip of the monitor reassured that sudden fear.
He was holding his own, Cabot had said. And he would, as long as he has to, his granddaughter had added.
In spite of those determinedly optimistic evaluations, the old man’s strength was nearly at an end. Raine had known that, as far away as she had been. Throughout today’s journey she had sensed that he was almost too tired to fight anymore. So very tired of it all, she thought, running her fingers along his forearm, which was nothing but skin and bones.
Maybe that’s why he had sent for her after all these years. Because he was tired of seeing everything he had devoted his life to endangered. He wouldn’t have told them that, of course. He would never reveal that much of himself or his feelings.
Instead, he had dispatched Ethan Snow with the suggestion that she could help if they would contact her. And at one time that might even have been true. Now, however…
“Why didn’t you send for me before?” she whispered, bending to put her mouth near his ear.
There was no reaction. His eyelids, their thin blue veins visible beneath the fragile skin, never moved.
All these years she had waited, respecting his wishes. Until today she had never demanded his attention, never approached any member of his family, never interfered with their lives in any way.
For a year after his wife’s death, which she had read about in the papers, she had waited for him to call, believing that now he would finally acknowledge her existence. Apparently he’d decided that would still be too traumatic for the remaining members of his family. Judging by Claire’s reaction, he had been right.
She was sorry she’d broken the news so abruptly. Cruelly, she admitted, but she truly believed her father wanted to see her. If he hadn’t, why would he have given Ethan Snow her name?
Besides, if she hadn’t revealed their relationship, his family would never have allowed her into this room. If the doctors were right, and there really was so little time…
She bent closer, her lips parted to speak to him again, and discovered she didn’t know what to call him. She had never called him “Father.” Not aloud. Yet to call him “Mr. Gardner” seemed a denial of all that he had meant in her life.
“I don’t know that I can help your friends. So many things have happened…” She hesitated. That wasn’t something she wanted to share with him. Not now. “But I’ll try.”
For a moment Ethan Snow’s face was in her mind’s eye, his voice passionate, touchingly sincere, as he talked about protecting his country.
Her father shared that same patriotism and dedication. That’s what he had asked of her before. That’s all he was asking now. And she would do the very best she could, despite what had happened in the past.
“I promise you I’ll try.”
This time she leaned forward to press her lips against the undamaged side of