Tempest Rising: Episode 1 (Rising Storm) Read online

  With Jacob, they’d been so drunk—on alcohol and on each other—that they hadn’t even thought of using a condom.

  “As I said, your sister knows because I had to tell her out of medical necessity. But what you do now is up to you.”

  “You mean I could—” She closed her eyes. She couldn’t even think the word.

  “You’re a healthy, young woman. There’s no reason to think this pregnancy won’t go smoothly.”

  But Ginny understood what the doctor wasn’t saying. If she wanted an abortion, now was the time.

  “Do you know who the father is?”

  Ginny nodded, because nice girls always knew who the father was.

  But did she? Did she really?

  It had to be the senator’s. They’d been fucking like bunnies until she’d broken it off, her shame finally getting the best of her. And fortunately he’d let her walk away without question. Over. Final.

  Except now maybe it wasn’t.

  There’d only been the one time with Jacob. And, yeah, it had been just a little over two months ago. But still—it had only been once. And the odds were really not in his favor.

  But, oh, if only the baby was Jacob’s. It would be almost like having him back. Almost like maybe she hadn’t destroyed everything.

  “I’m keeping the baby,” she said firmly, suddenly realizing that at some point she’d placed her hands protectively over her belly.

  “Then we need to make sure you get the proper care. But we can talk about that later.” Dr. Rush nodded toward the glass walls that identified this room as part of the ICU wing. “Looks like you have some visitors.”

  Beyond the glass, Ginny saw Marisol standing with Jacob’s parents, Celeste and Travis. Suddenly, her throat filled with tears again, and then—as if there were just too many to hold inside—the tears spilled over her lashes and down her cheeks. “Please,” she said. “Can they all come in?”

  Dr. Rush pressed her lips together, and Ginny understood why. She’d never been a patient in a hospital before, but she’d seen movies and she knew that she was in intensive care, and she knew that visitors were limited. But she had to see them. Had to know that they didn’t hate her because she was alive and their son was dead.

  “Please? For just a minute?”

  “All right. But not for very long.”

  The nurse—Ginny thought her name was Francine—had stepped just inside the doorway. Now Dr. Rush motioned to her, and Francine held the door open as the three visitors filed in.

  Marisol was first and fastest, and she swooped down on Ginny like an attacking bird, then pulled back at the last minute before throwing her arms around her sister. “Oh God, I don’t want to hurt you.”

  “I’m okay.” Ginny held out her arms to receive a gingerly hug, then watched as Marisol stepped back, her hand over her mouth.

  “Luis?”

  “He’s with Jeffry. But I called just a minute ago, and he’s on his way.”

  She nodded, wanting her brother there. Needing to hold on to him just the same way she was now reaching out to cling to Marisol’s hand.

  At the foot of the bed, Celeste stood with Travis. She’d known Jacob’s parents for almost her whole life. The Salts had been the perfect family. Everything she’d lost when her parents were killed. A mom and a dad. Regular dinners on the table. Dollars that didn’t have to be squeezed so tight they screamed.

  She’d always been welcome there, and although she loved her brother and sister so, so much, she’d craved what Jacob had and what she’d so violently lost.

  Jacob. Oh dear God, he was really gone.

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered, and the tears just started pouring out again.

  “Oh, baby, oh, Ginny.” Celeste hurried to her, then held her hand tight and stroked her hair as Ginny drowned herself in her tears and a stream of I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so, so sorry. “It was an accident, honey, we know that. We know. And we are so grateful that you’re safe. Jacob adored you, and he’d be so glad to know that you weren’t badly hurt. If there’s anything you need, you just ask us.”

  “That’s very kind, Celeste,” Marisol said. “But you don’t need to do that.”

  Ginny glanced between the two of them, and as she did, she saw Luis and Jeffry standing outside the glass—and Sebastian Rush was standing there with them.

  Senator Sebastian Rush.

  The senator she’d slept with.

  The senator whose baby she was probably carrying.

  Was he there now to see her? To tell her how worried he’d been? To squeeze her hand in a silent, secret moment of compassion?

  “For Jacob’s best friend?” Celeste was saying. “For Ginny? Of course we’ll do whatever we can.”

  Ginny barely heard the woman. Instead, she was focused beyond the glass, on where Senator Rush pressed his hand on Luis’s shoulder. Ginny’s breath hitched and she stiffened, preparing for the moment he walked through her door.

  But he didn’t.

  He just took one more quick glance at her through the glass, then turned away and disappeared down the hall, not even bothering to ask if he could come in and say hello.

  Bastard.

  Jeffry hung back, then said something to Luis before the two guys hugged and Jeffry went off after his father.

  Finally, Luis poked his head in. “Can I—can I come in?”

  Marisol urged him over, and he hurried to Ginny’s side, looking way, way younger than his sixteen years. He hugged her then stood up, his lips pressed together before he put his arm around Marisol. He was the man of the family, after all.

  “I was just thinking about the garden you two planted in the backyard.” Celeste’s voice was thick with emotion. “We sodded over it after y’all left for college, but just last month, some cucumber plants started peeking through the grass. I think I’m going to let them grow,” she added, her voice breaking at the end.

  “Does Lacey—I mean, have you told Lacey yet? About Jacob?” Lacey was Jacob’s younger sister and about a year older than Luis.

  Celeste shook her head. “She’s spending the weekend at a friend’s house in Fredericksburg. We—we don’t see any point in telling her just yet. Better to get ourselves together first, I think.” Tears fell again, and she wiped them roughly away. “Damn it,” she said, and Travis stepped up and put a hand on her shoulder.

  “It’s okay, Cee,” he said, his voice gentle and soothing. “You just go ahead and cry.”

  She nodded, then turned and pressed her head against her husband’s chest.

  Ginny sighed, letting herself be soothed as well. That’s how the Salts always were. She could remember Travis helping Jacob with everything from learning to ride a bike to learning how to drive, and being so easy and encouraging. For so much of her life, Ginny’d had no one to help her. And the way Celeste had always been so motherly with Lacey. There’d always been cookies and milk when she came home from elementary school. Ginny and Jacob used to steal them, then race back upstairs to do their own homework.

  The first few times, Ginny was afraid they’d get in trouble because, according to Celeste, cookies and milk were for the little kids. But then Jacob pointed out that Celeste always made too many cookies. She knew what they were doing, and the cookies were like her secret gift.

  Their house had always felt warm and comfortable and perfect. And although Marisol had tried, everything at the Moreno house was always slightly off. Like it was running without a full set of wheels.

  And now so was the Salt’s house. Ginny had made it horrible for them. And she’d never be able to fix it. Not ever.

  Not really.

  Except maybe—

  “You’re looking tired, sweetie,” Celeste said, finally getting herself back under control. “We should go.” She looked at Marisol. “You’ll let us know when she’s out of ICU?”

  “Of course. Dr. Rush said it would probably be tonight,” she added, and Ginny realized that the doctor had slipped out of the room at some
point.

  Celeste and Travis started to do the same.

  “I—I’m pregnant!” Ginny blurted out the words without thinking, then gasped, almost as surprised as Celeste and Travis looked when they turned back to face her. Beside her, Marisol was biting her lower lip, and Luis was staring at her, his big, brown eyes huge.

  “I didn’t know. I just found out. I never thought that—at any rate,” she continued in a rush, “it’s Jacob’s.”

  “Oh!” The word slipped from Celeste, and Ginny saw a glint in the older woman’s eyes that she thought was pleasure.

  “Are you sure?” Marisol asked.

  Ginny didn’t look at her sister. She kept her eyes on Celeste. On the glow that was starting to fill her eyes. “I’m sure. I haven’t—you know. There hasn’t been anyone else.”

  It was a lie. A horrible lie. And for just a moment she thought that she should take it all back.

  But then Celeste reached for Travis’s hand and held it tight. And she was so happy. And Senator Rush didn’t even care, so why shouldn’t Ginny let Jacob be the father?

  “It’s a miracle,” Celeste said.

  And as Celeste thanked God for sending them this miracle even in the middle of their pain, Ginny told herself that it couldn’t possibly be a bad lie if it made two people so very, very happy.

  Chapter Five

  Dillon leaned against the wall in the north hallway and watched as Joanne stood behind her husband at the pharmacy window. Hector was arguing with the clerk about whether or not their insurance covered the cost of Joanne’s pain meds. No surprise there; Hector was always riled about something.

  “It’s a crock of shit is what it is,” Hector said. “All you damn bureaucrats in bed with the insurance companies, and all I want to do is get some fucking meds for my wife. Take a look at her.” He stepped aside so the clerk had a full view of Joanne. She immediately stepped back, shoulders hunching even more in her pale yellow dress as she looked down at her scuffed espadrilles.

  Dillon realized his hands had clenched into fists, and he did his damnedest to unclench them. It wasn’t easy.

  “She’s in pain, dammit. I’m trying to help. And you and your co-pay crap aren’t doing shit.”

  “I—I’m sorry, sir. I’m just the cashier. I could call the admin office. Or maybe—”

  “Fuck it. You’re costing me an extra fifty bucks so I can take care of my wife.”

  He slapped a credit card onto the counter, and as Dillon watched, the clerk swiped the card at pretty much the speed of light. He dropped the bottle of pills into a bag, stapled the receipt to it, then handed the purchase to Hector.

  “Are you an idiot? Didn’t I just tell you she was in pain? Christ almighty.”

  He turned his back on the clerk, who looked about ready to cry, then ripped open the bag and the bottle before tapping a single pill out into his hand and giving it to Joanne.

  She looked up at him with a small smile. And as she did, Dillon saw the faint bruise rising on her jaw.

  Goddamn Hector all to hell.

  Fury pushed him forward, and as Hector put his hand on her back and started to lead her toward the exit, Dillon couldn’t resist calling out, “Joanne.”

  She turned, her eyes going wide with surprise.

  “Dillon! I—Oh—” She swallowed, then tilted her head up to look at Hector, whose expression was nothing short of thunderous.

  “Sheriff.” Hector smiled, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. The truth was, Hector was the kind of asshole who had the looks to make even smart women swoon. Hell, even in high school he’d been more good-looking than he’d deserved, and though all the teachers had adored him, Dillon had always seen through the sheen to what he was. A selfish, narcissistic prick who’d put stars in Joanne’s eyes and now held her trapped.

  Even right now, standing there in his grease-stained coveralls, the guy looked like he’d just walked off a movie set, and it made Dillon’s stomach curl to see the way Joanne clung to him.

  Dillon reached up and tapped the edge of his Stetson in greeting. Honestly, he’d rather have flipped the man the bird. “Everything okay, I hope?”

  He asked the question to Joanne. It was Hector who answered.

  “Took a spill off the back porch stairs. Landed hard on her wrist and banged up her face on the sidewalk.”

  Dillon studied Joanne for a moment, though she didn’t once look up at him. “That’s a shame. What made you trip?”

  Again, it was Hector who answered. “Clumsiness.”

  “Funny. I could have sworn I asked Joanne.”

  She lifted her head then, and it seemed to Dillon that her green eyes were pleading. But whether the plea was for help or for him to drop the subject, he really didn’t know.

  Goddamn her. Didn’t she see what she’d done? Didn’t she understand what she could have had? What she’d destroyed when she’d run off with Hector?

  Hector put his arm protectively around Joanne’s shoulders, and she leaned against him, the movement making Dillon’s skin crawl. “Come on, baby. We need to get you home.”

  She nodded, and her eyes met Dillon’s briefly before she looked away.

  Christ, it took every ounce of strength in his body not to follow them down the hall and arrest the son-of-a-bitch right now, but he didn’t have one damned iota of proof that Hector had laid a hand to his wife. All Dillon had was instinct and the past and what he saw in Joanne. And what he saw was that the light he’d seen throughout their childhood was fading fast. She’d always been so vibrant. A woman so bright and alive that she drew people to her like a flower.

  A woman he had wanted desperately for years, and had never worked up the courage to ask. Would things be different if he had? Would she be safe now, if only he’d managed to find his courage back then?

  She’d gone and run off with Hector right after high school—eloped all the way to Vegas. They’d come back to settle in Storm, though, and suddenly Joanne Grossman had become Joanne Alvarez. Dillon could remember the scandal like it was yesterday, especially the brouhaha when Robert Grossman—Joanne’s father and one of the local attorneys—publicly and loudly disowned her.

  Her name wasn’t the only thing that changed in Joanne, either. At first, she’d seemed fine. Happy even. But then slowly her light began to dim. She turned clumsier, or so she said. And she spent all her time at home or at the florist shop where she worked.

  Dillon knew that money was tight, especially with three kids. He tried to tell himself that it was just stress that had stolen the light from Joanne. The pressure of being a working mom. Of having a husband who drank most of the paycheck he earned as a mechanic/attendant at the gas station on the edge of town.

  He told himself that, but he didn’t believe it.

  And, goddammit, he was going to do something about it.

  * * * *

  Dakota Alvarez frowned at the handwritten sign on Cuppa Joe’s front door that announced that the bakery and coffee shop was closed due to a family emergency. What the hell? Marisol really needed to hire someone other than Lacey if she was going to have to close up the shop anytime someone got a case of the sniffles.

  And Dakota had really, really wanted one of Marisol’s fabulous gingerbread cupcakes. She’d just done serious damage to her credit card at Pink, the cute little dress shop that had finally moved onto the square and actually sold decent clothes. Not that Dakota wasn’t always looking for an excuse to go into Austin, but it was still nice to have a place that was local.

  One day, though...

  One day she would be completely done with Storm and she wouldn’t care about the stores on the square. She’d get out, and she’d get out in style, on the arm of a man who could take care of her. A doctor, she thought with a little smile, picturing a certain future doctor’s deep brown eyes. Jacob Salt might not know it yet, but he and Dakota were going to be very, very happy.

  She swung her shopping bags as she strolled down Cedar toward Second Street, pausing only briefly
in front of the Hill Country Savings & Loan. She looked through the windows at the long wooden counter behind which she sat every goddamn day taking deposits and handing over other people’s money when they didn’t even pay her well enough for her to have a decent account herself.

  She gave her shopping bags a little shake. Her mother was always telling her that she needed to save, but honestly, what was the point? She barely made enough every two weeks to buy a few nice outfits. It’s not like the couple of hundred she just spent would make a dent in a savings account. It wasn’t going to get her a high-rise apartment in Austin or a big sprawling house in Westlake.

  Might as well enjoy it while she could.

  She made a right onto Second Street, following the perimeter of Storm’s town square, and headed to the entrance of the Bluebonnet Cafe. As much as she wanted to shake free of Storm, she couldn’t deny that her hometown had charm. And, thankfully, at least a few good places to eat.

  Right now, Dakota was positively starving.

  Through the glass, she saw Jeffry Rush sitting by himself at a booth. At eighteen, Jeffry was two years younger than her and still in high school. But with his dark blond hair and athlete’s body, he was definitely worth looking at.

  Truth be told, he looked a lot like his dad, Senator Sebastian Rush, which really wasn’t a bad thing. Not that Dakota had had a piece of that yet. Senator Rush had made it clear that he was very, very interested, but Dakota was looking for a permanent fix for her Storm-seclusion, and a married man didn’t seem like the smartest ticket out.

  Still, even though she’d called him an old pervert, she’d been flattered. He was a senator, after all. And, to be honest, a really hot senator at that.

  Now, she hesitated before entering the cafe, taking the time to use the window as a mirror. Despite the summer humidity, her blonde hair still hung in soft waves around her face, with no signs of frizz. She wore a black T-shirt that dipped to a V to show off not only the cleavage that she inherited from her mother—thank God she only got the boobs and not the milk toast personality—but also a hint of lace from her bright red bra. She’d ended the outfit with shorts that made the most of her legs and her ass, and she’d paired it all with heels that gave her a needed three more inches in height.