“Elle, I said, go to bed.”
Her cheeks flushed with anger as she returned, “And I said, I’m fine.”
Prentice moved closer to her at the same time he brought Bella closer to him with his hand on her arm.
Fiona watched Bella stiffen.
“Go to bed,” he repeated.
“I’m finishing tea.”
“Go to bed.”
“No!” she snapped.
His face dipped close to hers as he made his threat and, since Fiona knew Prentice didn’t make threats, it was more a promise.
“You can go to bed or I’ll carry you there.”
Bella’s mouth dropped open and so did Fiona’s.
He wasn’t joking.
“I’m very serious,” Prentice warned, sounding very, very serious.
There it was; he wasn’t joking.
“Prentice, I don’t see why –”
Prentice interrupted her, his voice harsh. “I have enough to worry about and so does my son, without either of us having to worry about you.”
Well, Fiona had to admit, that was true enough.
The color went out of Bella’s cheeks again and Fiona reckoned Bella agreed.
“Go to bed,” Prentice repeated.
Bella looked to the oven, her shoulders fell then she looked back at Prentice.
“The chicken has another hour to cook. It needs to be basted every fifteen minutes. The vegetables –” she began.
“Aye, I’ll do it.”
“The chicken has to be cooked through, if it isn’t –”
He cut her off by saying, low and rumbly, “Elle.”
She snapped her mouth shut.
Then she nodded.
Prentice let go of her arm, she started to walk away, stopped and turned back.
“Are you going back to Sally after tea?” she asked.
“Aye,” he answered shortly.
She hesitated and crossed her arms on her middle, fingers curled around her elbows. She licked her lips, stared at the floor a second then took a deep breath and enquired in a voice so soft, even Fiona, with extra-sensory abilities due to her ghost-dom, could almost not hear, “If I’m awake, can I come with you?”
Prentice glared at her.
Bella withstood the glare but Fiona saw her swallow nervously.
Then he grunted, “Aye.”
Her lips turned up in an almost smile.
Then she left the room.
Prentice stared after her for a long time.
Then he tore his hand through his hair as he bent his head to stare at his boots.
Then he ruined tea.
* * * * *
Isabella was awake when the food was ready.
She just laid there, eyes open, face sad and Fiona shouted at her to get up, get up, get up.
Fiona didn’t know if it was her shouting or the sounds that came from the kitchen through the opened doors to the guest suite but Isabella finally heaved a big sigh, got up, wandered down and ate with them.
The chicken looked heavenly.
The vegetables were way overdone.
Neither Isabella nor Jason uttered a word mainly because Prentice’s brooding glower did not invite this.
The three of them went to the hospital after tea.
When they came back a lot later, Fiona didn’t have to shout her questions to Isabella in hopes of finding out how Sally was.
The worry etched into their faces told the tale.
Chapter Eleven
Celebrity Gossip Magazine
Isabella
“Can I have Miss Bella’s chocolate cake for breakfast while I’m recupralating?” Sally asked from her place, buckled safely in the back of Prentice’s Range Rover.
Isabella looked over at the child as Jason twisted around from the front and corrected, “Recuperating.”
“That’s what I said, recupralating,” Sally shot back.
Isabella smiled.
From behind the wheel, Prentice replied, “No.”
Sally’s face turned obstinate then it brightened as a new idea came to her. “Since I got knocked over by a car, can I have a horse?”
“No,” Prentice answered.
“A puppy?” Sally tried.
“No,” Prentice repeated.
“A kitty?” Sally pushed.
“No, Sally,” Prentice returned.
“A fish?” Sally cried in desperation.
Prentice chuckled before he replied, “We’ll see about a fish.”
Sally smiled cheerfully at Isabella and Isabella smiled back.
A miracle had happened.
When the doctors woke Sally after her brain swelling had gone down, she was groggy, in pain and confused but mostly she was Sally.
They did tests and found no memory loss, her concentration and recall were excellent, in fact all functions were a go.
The doctors were stunned.
Prentice, Jason, Debs, Annie, Dougal, Fergus and Prentice and Fiona’s families (not to mention Isabella) were relieved.
A miracle.
Isabella had never witnessed a miracle. In all her life, the only kind of miracle she’d experienced was Dougal and Annie finding their way back to each other.
Isabella was used to tragedy and disaster. She didn’t know what to do with a miracle.
She found she didn’t have a great deal of trouble coping.
The last week had gone by in a blur.
If she wasn’t at the hospital with Sally, she was at the market (there always seemed to be something they needed in the house that wasn’t in the house, they ran out of salt, they ran out of laundry detergent, they ran out of furniture polish, it was never-ending).
If she wasn’t at the market, she was mopping, sweeping, vacuuming, doing laundry, ironing, stripping beds, making beds or dusting. Prentice, it was obvious, had done very little (if any) housework since she’d left.
If she wasn’t doing that, she was (at Prentice’s surprising request) running Jason to school, from school or to football practice in her rental car when Prentice couldn’t do it because he was at work or had to be at the hospital for one of Sally’s tests.
If she wasn’t doing that, she was spending time with Sally or Fergus and Annie.
Another, smaller miracle had occurred that week too.
For, when she was in town or waiting with the mothers and fathers for football practice to end, the villagers didn’t avoid her or give her nasty looks. People she knew way back when (and some she didn’t know), smiled at her when they caught her eye. Some said hello. A few even engaged her in conversation, asking about Sally, Jason and Prentice and even how she, Isabella, was bearing up under the strain (and offering help!).
Isabella figured this about face had a good deal to do with the fact that her father humiliated her in front of the entire village.