Page 7 of Legacy of Danger
He had screwed up. He had taken the better of two rotten options and left all of this life behind more than a year ago. Done and done.
His own life had changed for the better in New York. Well, mostly. By using that power to detect danger, Vaughn's MMA star was rising quickly, although he'd declined to enter the UFC as a contracted fighter, because he had one or two ethics left. Extra ability equaled unfair advantage. But along the way, he had gained some wealthy friends.
And wealthy friends attracted women who wanted Vaughn solely for his connections. Damn it. Hadn't seen that betrayal coming. His danger detector hadn't made a peep when that particular Delilah walked into Vaughn's gym, embedded herself into his life, and then ripped it all apart when she spun around and sunk her talons into one of his wealthy friends.
Given why he'd fled the ranch, a woman betraying Vaughn was the most perfect karma the universe could dish out. After that disaster, he had stuck with what he did best: fighting and picking stocks.
Pair his ability to avoid danger with financial decision-making, and he'd developed a reputation as quite the financial advisor with a hell of a track record, even over the brief period of time he'd been in New York City. He cultivated many of the MMA managers and organizers as his personal clients. Succeeding in those two worlds guaranteed that he had money and well-placed friends.
So, hell yeah, when Shelby had called him for help, he had pulled a well-connected favor and hopped a private jet.
But aside from saving her life, it had otherwise been a mistake, coming back to Copper River and opening all these wounds.
He paused. Well, maybe returning hadn't been a complete mistake. In his mind's eye, an image formed of the pretty doctor with those quick movements as she worked on his family.
At least he'd met someone new in town. Well, not met, actually. Got yelled at.
So, notmeeting someone newat all.
Slamming the car door closed, he strode into the kitchen.
Kerr sat at the worn wooden table. His head and shoulders drooped as he gripped a coffee mug. Car keys rested on the table.
A tall, sturdy woman Vaughn didn't recognize had three skillets on the stove, all emitting mouthwatering aromas. When she turned, he rocked back on his heels. Her hazel eyes glinted with the same kind of gold flecks he and his siblings had. The woman's auburn hair was pulled back into a no-nonsense bun. One corner of her mouth lifted.
Kerr cleared his throat as he waved a hand. "Vaughn? Ruth. Ruth? My brother Vaughn."
She closed the space between them with purpose and gave a firm handshake. "Ruth Turcot. I'm a nurse caring for your father until he... improves."
Vaughn reared back. Improves?
She continued, "You might see my husband, Odie, wandering around. If you do run into him, please tell him to stay out of trouble."
"Could someone tell me what the hell is going on here?" Vaughn's grip on his temper slipped.
The woman coolly raised an eyebrow and moved back a few feet.
"Better to show you," Kerr said, pushing to his feet with a grimace. He led Vaughn out of the kitchen and down the hall.
Gut churning, Vaughn whispered, "Who the hell is that woman? And what's the story with Dad?"
"A lot's gone on since you left, bro." Kerr opened the second to last door at the end of the guest wing hall.
Vaughn had always viewed his father as a powerful man, grabbing life by his two work-worn hands and forcing it to obey his steel will.
The only similarity between the father of his memories and the man huddled under the blankets? The thick, gray hair.
Vaughn's stomach muscles clenched like he'd been sucker-punched. He jerked his head back to Kerr, who merely shook his head.
Vaughn drew enough air to create words. "What the hell?" he whispered. Sure, Dad had been ten years older than Mom, but he'd always been the picture of health. The man in the bed looked... geriatric.
His brother's shoulder lifted and fell. "Stroke. Happened right after the barn burned and Hank Brand kidnapped Zach and Sara." At Vaughn's raised brows, Kerr added quickly, "Sara. Garrison's girlfriend. Anyway, Dad had a stroke."
Vaughn staggered into the doorjamb.
"Yeah," Kerr said. "And you know Dad. He didn't go to the hospital when he started having symptoms, waited too long making sure everyone else was okay."
Hesitant, he took one step, then another, toward the bed. "Dad?" he choked out around a tight lump in his throat.
