Bachelor Protector

A hint of unidentifiable emotion flickered in his eyes. Today, at least, Tyler Prentiss was projecting the dark, brooding thing perfectly, giving the impression that something more intense was going on.

“That isn’t entirely the case,” he said politely. “You heard me talking with my mother yesterday, so you’re aware that my brother should still be in rehab. I was hoping that if you knew more about the situation, you’d help.”

Sarah cocked her head. “I don’t see how. Rosemary told me about Nathan’s injuries, but I’ve never met him. Oh, unless you’re thinking my dad could do something... I know he’s been spending time with your brother.”

“Actually, I hoped you’d urge Mom to go home. Then Nathan would go, as well.”

Sarah released an exasperated breath. “Doing that would make Rosemary believe I’m unhappy with her work, which isn’t the case.”

“Maybe, but why did you hire her in the first place?” Tyler asked. “Mom doesn’t have any experience. And promoting her so quickly?”

Sarah could barely control her irritation. Her ex-husband had made her feel as if she was incapable of making her own decisions, and she refused to let that happen again.

“I’m not going to justify myself. This is my shop. Your mom says you’re an architect. How would you like me to ask why you chose to put skylights or recycle chutes into one of your building designs?”

“It isn’t the same,” he returned in a clipped tone. She might have hit a nerve, though it was hard to tell with Tyler. He seemed to have no problem revealing anger, but his other emotions were much less clear.

“It’s exactly the same. That’s your business—this is mine,” she retorted.

Tyler’s brown eyes focused intensely on her, but she could tell little from his expression. “Fair enough. Look, I know my mother. She’s a lovely woman with good intentions, but she isn’t the nine-to-five type.”

“She’s working eight-to-four, though that’s beside the point. It’s up to Rosemary if she wants to return to the East Coast with your brother—I’m not going to manipulate her. And for your information, she asked for the job—I didn’t twist her arm to take it.”

“I’m sure you didn’t since she doesn’t have any qualifications,” he snapped.

No matter what Tyler seemed to think, Sarah wondered how well he actually knew his mother. Experience could be gained without a paycheck. From what Rosemary had said about her volunteer work, she had a huge amount of management experience.

Yet in a way, Tyler had a point. Rosemary was a visitor to Glimmer Creek, staying at Poppy Gold temporarily. She’d said nothing about moving permanently to California or whether she would leave when Nathan was ready.

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 (#u347fd3cf-8318-5e2e-85e4-6fa10251c84c)

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.”