Walker Revenge (The Walker Family Series Book 5) (11 page)

“What are they looking for?”

“I don’t know,” her voice dipped, and he
watched her bat away a tear. “Russ, he kidnapped Lucas once. What
if he’s planning it again? What if…”

He reached his hand to her arm, which held
Lucas, and touched her gently. “Sweetheart, nothing is going to
happen to him. I’ll see to it personally.”

“Why?”

Because I love you
, were the words
that rang in his head, but he sure as hell wasn’t going down that
path again. He was sober and not on any drugs at the moment. “I
care for you,” he said, settling on the words. “We may not have the
future we’d once planned, but I wish you no ill will. And he
doesn’t deserve to grow up with his mother afraid.”

Lucas picked up the second breadstick on his
plate and held it out to Russell. “You eat,” he said and lifted the
stick toward him.

“That one’s yours. I have some.”

“You eat this,” he said again, urging
Russell to take it.

The tears had dried in her eyes now, and
love lit in them. It stung. She used to look at him like she looked
at Lucas.

Russell took the breadstick. “Thank you.” He
then picked up the one on his plate and handed it to Lucas. “Here,
you have this one.”

Lucas grabbed it and held it to him. He
looked up at his mother and smiled wide.

They’d had a moment of bonding. Russell
would take it. It was warm and comforting to him, and because of
the feelings that were stirring inside of him, he wanted to
continue to have moments like the one they were sharing. That would
only happen if he could keep his mouth in check and his attitude
calm.

Chelsea was making a mental list of things
she needed from her house. The highchair was one of them. Perhaps
she could have Dane or Gerald take her into town, and they could
stop by her house. Surely Phillip would approve of that if she
weren’t alone.

She’d like to have one of the baby gates and
Lucas’s toddler bed too. They’d been making some potty training
progress until they’d been displaced. She’d have to start all over
again, but that was okay. But his potty was at the house too.

“Are you going to eat that?” Russell asked,
and she realized she was only spinning her noodles on her fork, not
actually eating.

“My mind is in other places.”

Lucas pushed away his plate and began to
wiggle in her lap as though he were fighting to get down.

“Oh, no you don’t,” she argued with him.
“You’re a mess, and Mrs. Walker doesn’t need you running around
here like that.”

She picked him up just as Glenda Walker
walked back into the house with the box she’d taken with her to
feed the others.

“Well, look who ate dinner.” She moved
toward them and reached her hands out to take Lucas. “That makes me
feel good. Did you like dinner?”

He nodded and then pointed to Russell. “He
eat my dinner.”

Russell held his hand in surrender. “It was
a gift.”

Chelsea laughed. “I’ll get him cleaned up.
You don’t want him right now. He’s a mess.”

Glenda urged her with a wave. “I’ll take
him, and we’ll get cleaned up. Nothing would make me happier.” She
pulled Lucas to her and gave him a kiss on the head. She then
looked between Chelsea and Russell. “I think he has some pain meds
due soon.”

“In twenty minutes,” Chelsea assured
her.

“Good. We’re going to go clean up, and then
play a little if that’s okay with you.”

A warmth spread through her and Chelsea
smiled. “Of course. Thank you.”

“Oh, no. Thank you,” Glenda said, as she
carried him away.

Chelsea watched her carry him off, and a
part of her wanted to cry from the sadness that he loved spending
time with someone other than her. The other half was emotionally
grateful that Lucas had someone like Glenda to love him. Her mother
wasn’t close and Dominic’s mother—well, that thought alone scared
the hell out of her.

She was a nasty woman whom Chelsea had
hardly known. Even Dominic was afraid of her, and he didn’t fear
anything—obviously. She’d been the mastermind behind Dominic taking
Lucas in the first place. It was her evil plan to keep what she
thought what was hers and hurt Chelsea just as she’d felt her son
had been hurt.

“You do see what’s going on, don’t you,”
Russell spoke again, snapping her from her trance. “You’re worried
about your ex-husband, but my mother has kidnapped you both,” he
said smiling.

“Doesn’t seem so bad.” She laughed as she
walked back to the table and picked up her plate and Lucas’s.

“Why don’t you sit and eat now? You’ve
gotten skinny. I assume this is why. He eats, and you clean.”

“I should…”

“You should sit down, finish your dinner,
and we could have a real conversation before you give me those
stupid pills.”

She contemplated his offer for just a moment
before sitting down next to him and eating the cold plate of
spaghetti.

She was so consumed with eating that it took
her a while to realize that Russell was sitting there staring at
her.

“What?” she asked, her mouth full of
spaghetti.

“I’ve missed this.”

“Staring at me?” She swallowed, and then
wiped her mouth.

Russell chuckled. “Yeah, that too. But I
meant I missed us sitting together, being civil.”

Chelsea moved her food around again,
something she realized she did when she was horribly nervous.
“Russ, I’m sorry again that I…”

“Don’t,” he said reaching for her hand and
holding it in his.

She gasped at the feel of his skin on hers.
His thumb brushed her knuckles. It was so very familiar, and yet so
removed that it felt new.

“I can’t help it,” she continued. “This is
all my fault. All of it. I hurt you. I hurt your family. I hurt my
own heart,” she rambled on. “Now you’re hurt, and I’m hiding. This
is horrible.”

“Scoot closer,” he said, giving her hand a
tug.

“Russ…”

“C’mon. I’m not going to yell at you,” he
promised.

Chelsea moved her chair, and he adjusted his
so that they were as close as they could get. He lifted his hand to
her face and caressed her cheek. “I think we should call a
truce.”

“O-kay,” she let the word release slowly.
“You’re going to let me take care of you?”

“After Karen gave me my shower, I’m looking
forward to it.” He smiled, and it caused her to laugh.

“You always liked taking showers with
women,” she joked.

“Just you,” his tone had changed again, and
she felt his words heavy on her chest.

“Russ, we can’t talk like this.”

“Yes, we can. We have a past. We had a great
past.”

“Until I messed it up,” she threw it in
there again, and he eased back.

“Fine.” He dropped his hand from hers. “Do
you want me to say it? You messed it up. You took something good
and threw it away. Does that make you feel better?”

“No,” she bit back and then swallowed the
tears that were threatening.

Russell took her hand again, this time
lacing their fingers together. “We started out as friends. Do you
remember that?”

Chelsea nodded. It was a fond memory—one she
drew from in some of her saddest times.

“Let’s start there. I want to be your
friend. You need a friend, Chels. You need me.”

Oh, she could go on and argue again that
she’d caused all the problems that now faced them, but they were
both aware of them. For now, she’d accept his truce.

“Okay. I’d like to stay here with all of
you, and help get you back on your feet. And,” she took a deep
breath, “I think it will be a good thing to have Lucas around good
role models.”

“Can’t find better ones than right here,” he
said, and she knew he meant his father and his brothers—but her
mind went straight to him as the perfect role model for her
son.

She let her eyes sink into his as she bit
down on her bottom lip. “That’s exactly what I was thinking.”

Chapter
Twelve

Russell spent a few hours in his father’s
office after dinner. The pain meds Chelsea had given him hadn’t
affected him quite as badly as they had before. He was still awake
and alert. He liked that much better. Perhaps she’d begun to wean
him from the full dosage. If that was the case, he was all for
it.

Lydia had emailed him pictures of her new
house, which she was looking forward to having him help her fix up.
He liked knowing he’d have some purpose when he was back up on his
feet. He jotted down some notes from looking at the pictures. There
were some items she needed to attend to before he could even get to
her.

Looking at the house made him think about
the plans he and Chelsea had once made, so many years ago. His
father had promised each of them a piece of the land to build their
houses on. He’d always wanted a small house on the far west corner
of the family property, about two miles further west than Eric.

There was room for a house of any size, but
he always thought that a small house could be added on to, if they
chose, but really, who needed a big house when they had endless
acres right out the front door?

He’d never needed anything as a child when
it came to the room to play. They’d had an above ground pool, which
had ceased to go up when they’d all become too old. There were
roads to ride bicycles and dirt bikes on. Streams ran through the
property where they’d all fished, swam, and skipped rocks. Groves
of trees provided hours of climbing and hiding. The possibilities
were endless.

The thoughts brought a smile to his
lips.

He typed a search into Google for
prefabricated houses. He’d watched a show on it when he was in the
hospital, and he’d been very impressed. Order a house and they
deliver. Seriously, what was easier than that?

“You’re not surfing porn on my computer are
you,” his father’s voice broke through the silence, and Russell
jumped.

“Right. As if I am dumb enough to do
that.”

His father shrugged, as if to toy with him.
“What are you doing? You look good by the way.”

“I feel good. I’ll be perfect when I can get
out of this chair.”

“In time,” his father said as he walked
around the desk. “Houses? Ready to stake your claim, huh?”

“I’m thinking about it. I was watching a
show on these prefabricated houses and thought that would be an
excellent place to start. Then the sky’s the limit.”

His father patted him on the back. “We can
drive up to Athens and take a look when you’re feeling up to it,”
he offered.

“I’d like that.”

“Maybe after the new year.”

“Hey, are you busy tomorrow? I’d like to go
to town and do some Christmas shopping for Lucas and Chelsea.”

His father raised an eyebrow. “You want to
buy them gifts?”

He nodded his head. “Yeah. I don’t see a
future for us, but I see a friendship. So I might as well be a good
friend.”

A smile formed on his father’s lips. “I
think that’s nice. Are you allowed to go to town?”

Russell ran his tongue over his teeth. “Not
sure that I am, but what if we just tell them we’re checking
fencelines, and you’re getting me out of the house for a bit.”

Now his father laughed. “If your mother
finds out…”

“You can buy her something special while
we’re out then.”

The laughter continued as his father rested
a hand on his shoulder just as his mother walked into the
office.

“Are you ready?” she asked, and Russell
looked up at his father.

“You going out?”

“Nah, I have something to show you,” he said
before exchanging smiles with Russell’s mother.

Russell unlocked the wheels of the chair,
and his father guided him out from behind the desk and to the
hallway. He then pushed him to the front door where his brothers
all stood as well as Chelsea and Lucas.

There was a ramp where the stairs were, and
he could feel tears burn his throat.

“You made me a ramp?” he choked out the
words.

“We made you three. There’s one out the back
and one into the garage.”

Russell cleared his throat. “Is this what
you were working on?”

Eric laughed. “We’ve been working on them
for the past few days in the barn up at my house. You’re not one to
stay in the house. We thought this would make your recovery easier
if you could get out a bit.”

He covered his mouth. He wasn’t going to
cry, he promised. There was too much hell to be had, with all of
his brothers standing around him. But before he fell asleep, he’d
shed a tear or two in appreciation. That was acceptable—alone—in
the dark.

His father leaned in, with his hands on the
back of the chair. “Ready for your first spin? I’ll take you down
it, but it should be just the right angle when you get that sling
off your arm you’ll be able to do it with ease.”

“I’m ready,” he said.

Slowly, his father took him down the ramp,
and they all whooped at their success. Russell couldn’t say it was
a gift he’d ever had wanted, but it just might have been the best
one.

“Me turn. Me.” Lucas wiggled down his
mother’s body and toward Russell.

Chelsea ran after him scooping him back up.
“Oh, it’s not a ride kiddo.”

“Me turn,” he argued.

“Let me have him,” Russell held out his arm.
“Set him on my lap.”

“No. It’s okay. You don’t…”

“Chels, c’mon.”

She pursed her lips before she set Lucas on
Russell’s lap and Lucas turned to him. He lifted his little hand to
his face, and gently rested it on his cheek.

“You have ouchie.”

Russell nodded with a smile. “I do have an
ouchie. Mommy is making the ouchies go away,” he promised him. “Are
you ready to ride?”

Lucas nodded and held on to the arms of the
chair.

“Okay, Dad. Lucas wants a ride on the
ramp.”

His father laughed a deep hearty laugh.
“Hold on, cowboy.” He pushed them both up the ramp and turned them
around. “Are you ready?”