Julianna Morris - Bachelor Protector

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

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.