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“Would you prefer coffee or tea?” he asked from the kitchen.
“Coffee,” she answered back as she stepped into the room. “What can I do to help?”
“That depends. Do you still think mushrooms are disgusting?”
“No, I don’t.” His memory went back a long way. Even she hardly remembered not liking mushrooms.
“Then you can slice the tomatoes and mushrooms.” He motioned to the other end of the counter where she would find them and handed her a knife and cutting board.
While they prepared breakfast, Sophie with her chopping and slicing, Liam with his frying, he said, “It doesn’t look so bad outside this morning. Would you like to go for a walk after breakfast? I have a great view.”
“That would be nice.” Sophie paused her slicing of a tomato and thought. “It just occurred to me that I haven’t taken even five minutes to enjoy the outdoors or any of the views. That’s something I always looked forward to every year, coming home to these mountains and lakes.”
“I bought this place for the view.”
Of course he did, Sophie mused.
“So, all you’ve been doing since arriving here is work?”
“Yeah,” she said, sounding pathetic. “Keefe wants to have the place running in time for spring, so—well you saw the place—we have our work cut out for us. We can’t leave everything to the contractors.” Sophie finished slicing the tomato and assessed the size of the mushrooms. And seeing as they were rather small, sliced them each in half. “You lending me your studio has been so nice. I can’t thank you enough. It will be good, having that out of the way.” Sophie’s phone rang from inside her purse, sitting on a stool at the far end of the counter. “Sounds like I’ve got service again. That’s a good sign.” She laid down the knife, then headed for her phone. She answered it, narrowly avoiding the call going to her voicemail.
Sophie’s alarmed tone of voice caught Liam’s attention. It was her aunt Nan calling from what he gathered.
“…I’ll be there as soon as I can.” Sophie hung up. “Darcie’s been rushed to the hospital. She was bleeding pretty badly and lost consciousness. Connor’s going to need all the support he can get. I’ll have to go. I’m sorry.”
Liam turned off the hob and put down his spatula. “Here, let me drive you.”
“No, it’s early. Eat your breakfast.” Sophie hustled to the dryer to grab the clothes Liam had washed the night before, threw them on, and was out the door in a flash. “I’ll call you!” she called back over her shoulder as she stepped outside the door into the cold winter air.
Chapter11
Sophie rushedthrough the hospital corridors, her wet boots squeaking against the floors. She took two hallways at a clipped pace, pressed the elevator button with more force than necessary, and barely waited for the doors to fully open before stepping inside. The moment they slid apart on the next floor, she bolted out, scanning the waiting area until she spotted her family.
Henry sat beside Sylvia with his arm wrapped around her as he stared at the floor with bloodshot eyes. Sylvia dabbed at her eyes with a tissue, her face pale. Across from them, Simon gave Sondra’s knee a reassuring squeeze before pressing a kiss to her forehead. Then, noticing Sophie, he stood and went to her and she hugged him close, lingering for a few comforting moments.
“Hey, Soph.” His voice was thick with worry. “Aunt Nan and Shamus are on their way.”
Sophie pulled back and looked up into her cousin’s tear-soaked eyes. “Keefe had to deal with something at the pub but will be here as soon as he can. What’s happened? How is she?”
“We haven’t heard anything. Connor said she was bleeding pretty bad,” Simon’s voice choked, “and then she was rushed in and that’s all we know.”
Connor stepped through the doors, his face pale, his shoulders sagging. His eyes met Sondra’s, and with a slow, almost imperceptible shake of his head, the last thread of her composure snapped. A sob tore from her throat as she crumpled, and Simon was there in an instant, wrapping his arms around her, holding her together as she fell apart.
Sylvia and Henry rushed to hold him. “Son, what’s happened?” Henry asked.
Connor shook his head and pinched his eyes closed. “She’s lost a lot of blood. She’s… I thought… Dad what if?—”
Sylvia tucked herself under her son’s arms, gripping onto him as she sobbed.
There was no easy was to ask the question on everyone’s minds and he hated himself for having to do it. Henry gripped his son by the shoulders. “Connor, is Darcie alive?”
Sobbing, Connor nodded his head yes.
Henry released the breath he was holding and Sylvia looked up at her son.
Her husband had asked one hard question now it was her turn. “What about the twins, love? Are they alive?”
“Yes, but…”
