The Quietest Shop on Main (Shops on Main #3)

Chapter 5

5

T his wasn’t how Skyla had hoped to have Dalton’s arms around her. He was probably praying she would wipe her snot somewhere else, but there was nowhere else.

She sniffled, trying to get her breathing and tears under control, but more seemed to keep coming.

“I’ve got you,” Dalton whispered, his hand running up and down her back.

Slowly, the warmth of his touch and the sincerity in his words penetrated her anxiousness and Skyla began to calm down. At least calming down enough to pull back and blow her nose on a tissue instead of letting it drip down her face.

She threw the tissue in the trash and didn’t dare contemplate what she looked like when she turned to give Dalton an apologetic look. “I’m sorry?—”

“No.” Dalton shook his head forcefully. “Don’t apologize. Please.”

She blinked up at him. “Then…I’m not really sure what to say.”

He gave her a small smile and reached out to take her hand. “Let’s sit down. You look ready to collapse.”

Skyla let him lead her to an old set of chairs in the corner, grateful when he sat next to her. She needed his steady presence right now, even if it wouldn’t last forever. Sighing, she let her head fall back against the wall. What was she going to do? The medical bills would be a pain. Of course, no one liked paying those, but it was the fact that her last surviving family member was currently undergoing tests for something Skyla didn’t understand.

The unknown was killing her as her imagination ran wild with possibilities. She jumped when Dalton took her hand again and pressed it between his own.

“Your hands are cold,” he said calmly.

Skyla gave him a weary smile. “Family trait. My mother was the same way.”

“Cold hands, warm heart,” Dalton quoted.

Skyla’s smile widened. “So you know old Proverbs as well as how to catch a deep sea fish?”

“Eh…” Dalton shrugged one shoulder. “There’s lots of time for thinking when you’re waiting for a bite.”

“How many world problems have you solved?” Skyla teased.

“All of them,” Dalton shot back with a smile. He adjusted their hands so they were intertwined and resting on his thigh.

Good heavens, she could get used to this. Skyla wanted to get used to this. She loved her grandfather, but Skyla wanted someone to lean on. Someone of her own. Someone she didn’t have to take care of.

She’d been taking care of Grandpa since Grandma died, and it was wonderful and tiring all at the same time.

“I’m so selfish,” she murmured.

“What?” Dalton asked.

Skyla’s eyes snapped open. She hadn’t even realized they were closed. “Sorry, just muttering,” she said, sitting up straighter and shaking her head. Oooh, that was a mistake. She rubbed her temple and squeezed her eyes.

“Headache?”

She nodded. Then froze when Dalton switched her hand into his other one and used the hand closest to her to start rubbing her neck.

“Analiese gets headaches sometimes,” Dalton said as if talking about something as casual as the weather. “Mostly they’re from stress or tension caused by the stress.” He tilted his head down. “Does this help at all?”

“Uh, yeah,” Skyla didn’t dare move. Was he really massaging her neck? All these things Dalton did so easily like holding her hand and massaging her neck were making Skyla realize just how sheltered she’d been.

She’d had a couple of casual boyfriends in the past, but it had taken ages to work up to holding hands with them and had never moved beyond a tiny peck goodnight.

Dalton was offering her more comfort and soft touches than either of her previous boyfriends, and he was nothing but a friend! The only conclusion was that he was either a playboy, or she was super inexperienced.

Skyla was betting the problem lay in her corner, not his.

No wonder he viewed her as nothing more than a friend. Her naivete had to be easily seen by someone as outgoing as Dalton.

“Thank you, by the way,” she said, clearing her throat. “I never said thank you for coming and for staying and for…” She laughed quietly. “Everything, really.”

Dalton leaned in a little closer. “I’m glad to be here,” he said softly. “Not glad your grandpa is having a medical issue, but glad I’m here.”

Skyla smiled. “I’m glad too. But I still feel bad. You probably have other things to be doing today instead of sitting here.” She gasped. “Your tour. What time is your tour?”

“It’s not until late afternoon.” The hand he had on her neck moved to her shoulder, and Dalton pulled her into his side, taking some of her weight. “Just relax for a bit. When I need to go, I will, but nothing else is more important right now. Try to close your eyes, and when the hospital has results, they’ll let us know, okay?”

Skyla hesitated only a moment before completely melting into his side. Oh, how she wished this was a permanent thing. Not the whole hospital scene, but just Dalton being there, supporting her and holding her.

She had a feeling that a relationship with him would be anything but casual.

Closing her eyes, Skyla let out a long, slow breath. The chair was hard, her head was still pounding, her stomach churned…but Dalton was strong, steady, and smelled like heaven. Spicy cedar with a hint of fresh sea air.

He was the perfect antidote to this nightmare.

Skyla wasn’t sure how much time had passed, but when Dalton gently nudged her awake, her backside and thighs were completely numb and a doctor and nurse were standing in the room, waiting to speak.

“I’m so sorry,” Skyla hurried to say, but Dalton’s arm on her shoulder gave a little squeeze.

“You’re fine,” he said. “They just got here.” He turned to the medical professionals. “Is Mr. Bowen alright?”

“Are you his family?” The doctor asked.

“I’m his granddaughter,” Skyla responded, jumping to her feet. No matter how good Dalton felt, she needed her wits about her for this.

“And you are?” The doctor eyed Dalton.

“My friend,” Skyla responded, bringing the attention back to herself. “My grandfather. How is he?”

The doctor scanned his tablet. “He’s had a stroke,” he said bluntly. “We’re pinning down the source of it, and it’ll take some time before we understand any lasting ramifications, but otherwise, he’s fine.”

Skyla’s heart skipped a beat. A stroke? He was fine? How could he be fine after having a stroke? Didn’t those cause brain damage? Was Grandpa going to be able to speak again? Would he need long term care?

“So he’ll be here a couple more days, but after that, it will be okay to take him home.” The doctor looked up and raised his eyebrows. “Any questions, Miss…?”

“Bowen,” Dalton supplied when Skyla didn’t speak. “Skyla Bowen.”

The doctor nodded and tucked his tablet under his arm. “Please let us know if there’s anything else you need. Otherwise the aids will be in soon to transfer you to your grandfather’s room assignment.”

Skyla couldn’t move, and her brain wouldn’t calm down. She couldn’t seem to grasp a response or even one singular emotion. It felt like a hurricane was whirling inside of her, and she couldn’t get her bearings.

So when Dalton pulled her back into his chest, his strong arms wrapping around her, she didn’t hesitate at all this time. Thank heaven for Dalton Saunders. He was the only thing anchoring her to reality right now…and she was going to hold on as long as he would let her.

Dalton was a little too experienced with Skyla’s overwhelmed status. Analiese had been similar not that long ago, after her ex had dumped her at the altar. The inability to talk, the stoic face, the wide, afraid eyes, and the cold clammy hands.

Dalton rubbed Skyla’s back and closed his eyes for just a moment in a short prayer. Analiese had turned angry and bitter from her experience. Dalton loved his sister, but she was grumpy and had struggled with friends ever since her heart had been broken.

He sincerely hoped that Skyla wouldn’t do the same.

Imagining Skyla as angry and wounded made Dalton want to do something drastic. But how could he save her from this? How did he fight an enemy that he couldn’t even see?

“Miss Bowen?” a feminine voice asked tentatively.

Dalton’s head jerked up, and he loosened his hold on Skyla as a worker came in.

She gave them both a shy smile. “If you’ll follow me, I’ll take you to your grandfather.”

Skyla wiped at her face and exchanged looks with Dalton before nodding. “Thank you,” Skyla whispered hoarsely. “Let me grab my purse and stuff.”

“I got it.” He might not be good for much right now, but he could help carry her things, small as that might be.

“Thank you,” Skyla said, taking a deep breath.

After loading his arms with coats, and her purse, they followed the hospital employee out to the elevator, where they were eventually deposited on the third floor.

“Right in here,” the woman said with another smile.

“Thank you,” Skyla repeated and went inside, holding the door for Dalton.

“Thanks,” Dalton added as he crossed the threshold.

“Grandpa,” Skyla gasped, hurrying past Dalton once he was in the door. “I didn’t realize you’d already be here.” Her hands fluttered around his face and torso as if looking for something to fix.

Dalton dropped their gear in a chair and came up behind Skyla. “Mr. Bowen,” he said with a head nod. “How are you feeling?”

Mr. Bowen grunted and shifted in the bed.

“He’s probably a little groggy,” a voice said from the door.

Dalton and Skyla both turned as a different nurse walked in.

“He’s been administered some medication that might make him sleepy,” the middle-aged woman explained. “But don’t worry. He’s in good hands.” She went about checking the machines around the bed.

“So the tests are all done?” Skyla asked, clutching her grandfather’s hand.

The nurse glanced over. “For now. But we’ll be monitoring him until he’s ready to go home.”

“I’m ready now,” Mr. Bowen grumbled, though his eyes were closed.

“As soon as possible,” the nurse said without looking away from her work.

Dalton watched and waited and the nurse left a couple minutes later. He rubbed Skyla’s upper arms. “Are you hungry?” he asked softly. “It’s well past lunchtime.” His own stomach was going to eat itself if he didn’t get more than hot chocolate in it soon.

Skyla sniffed and wiped her eyes on her shoulder. “I hadn’t thought about it.”

“I’ll get something delivered.” Dalton reluctantly let go of Skyla. He leaned around her. “Mr. Bowen? Anything illegal I should sneak in for you?”

“Dalton!” Skyla gasped.

Dalton grinned when Mr. Bowen narrowed his eyes, as if considering the proposal.

“Who seeks and will…” Mr. Bowen took a couple of breaths. “not take…when once ‘tis…offered…shall never find…” He frowned.

“Shall never find it more,” Skyla said with a huff. She folded her arms over her chest. “You just had a stroke, Grandpa. We need to be careful about what you eat.”

“I’m…eighty-five.”

Pursing her lips, Skyla looked at Dalton. “He likes cheeseburgers, but I’m putting my foot down about adding bacon.”

Dalton nodded. He’d officially heard Grandpa Bowen quote Shakespeare, just like Skyla had mentioned earlier. If the old man could say it now, he definitely had spent a lifetime putting it in his brain. “On it.”

Stepping to the side, Dalton put in an order and marked the time so he could go meet the delivery person. “About twenty minutes,” he announced when done.

“Thank you,” Skyla mouthed from her place at the bed.

Dalton grabbed a chair and carried it over so she didn’t have to stop holding her grandfather’s hand.

“Who…are you, again?” Mr. Bowen asked once Dalton had her settled.

“Just a friend,” Skyla quickly responded.

Dalton smiled to hide how much that hurt his pride. He wanted to be so much more than her friend. “Your granddaughter helps me out at the library more than she should have to.”

Mr. Bowen snorted, then coughed. “This…has a man thinking…” He began.

“Grandpa,” Skyla said, rubbing his hand. “Maybe let’s not talk right now, huh? Go ahead and go to sleep. We can talk later.”

Mr. Bowen shook his head. “No,” he wheezed, shifting in the bed again. “I might not have a later.”

“Don’t say that,” Skyla scolded.

Dalton rubbed her shoulder. He believed that Mr. Bowen would recover from this, but it was clear the man was older and there was no guarantee that he would last much longer or that his quality of life would be good after this. Strokes could have serious consequences.

“There’s just two things,” Mr. Bowen said, coughing again. He grimaced. “Two things I want before I go.”

“Grandpa,” Skyla tried again, but she stopped when Mr. Bowen shook his head adamantly. Skyla sighed. “Okay, Grandpa. What two things do you want?” She leaned forward. “But I refuse to believe that you don’t have plenty of time to get them done.”

Mr. Bowen’s stern face softened as he looked at Skyla. “First…” His breathing was still heavier than normal. “I want you…in the shop…full…full time.”

Skyla shook her head. “I’m fine, Grandpa. The library is good to me. What else do you want?”

Dalton froze when Mr. Bowen looked at him next. “I’ve always wanted to go deep sea fishing.”

“What?” Skyla’s light eyebrows pulled together. “You’ve never said?—”

“Always…” Mr. Bowen wheezed. “Always been…a dream.”

“Oh…uh…” Skyla hesitated and gave Dalton an awkward glance. “I might…”

“I think I can help with that, sir,” Dalton inserted, rubbing Skyla’s shoulder again. “In fact…it’s what I do for a living.”

Mr. Bowen smirked, and clearly the man had more going on in his brain than he was letting on.

“You get permission from the doctor, and I’ll take you out myself, alright?” Dalton offered.

Mr. Bowen nodded and closed his eyes. “Two birds…” he whispered before snoring.

Dalton fought a frown. Mr. Bowen was up to something, but what? And why? Was the bookstore really a big deal to him? Or was that more Skyla’s thing? Not to mention, fishing seemed an odd dream for a literature man. Still…people had weirder secrets than a desire to fish.

Dalton’s winter fishing schedule had just gotten a little more complicated.

As long as it meant more time with Skyla, it was perfect.