Page 9 of Married at Midnight

CHAPTER THREE

“Here we go,” Connor said outside the door of his grandmother’s small ICU room at Swedish Hospital on Seattle’s Capitol Hill.

The words grated on Ellie’s overly sensitive nerves as she and Connor stepped into the room. She’d agreed to this scheme. There was no turning back now.

Connor’s grandmother lay as still as death on the narrow bed. No wonder Connor had been so eager to get to the hospital as soon as they’d landed at Sea-Tac Airport. Viola Grayson’s eyes were closed. The railed sides of the bed made the woman in between look so frail and small, with the covers tucked up under her chin. Several bags hung from a metal pole beside the bed, sending a long line of clear tubing into the back of her hand.

The gray-haired woman looked serene, as though she hadn’t a care in the world. Ellie kept an easy smile in place even as her heart climbed in her throat. They’d been allowed to see Viola for only a few minutes to share their good news . . . or their lie, depending on how you looked at the situation.

The electronic drone of the cardiac monitor filled the confines of the small room. A glance at the man beside her revealed he was keeping his emotions in check, but she didn’t miss the tightness of his breath or the slight sheen of moisture in his eyes. His worry was palpable.

Unable to stop herself, Ellie reached out and took his hand. He hesitated, then gripped her hand firmly, as though he needed her strength for what came next.

“Grandmother?” Connor said in a warm, soothing voice as they stopped beside the bed. “I’d like you to meet my wife.”

They waited breathlessly for her to open her eyes.

At first she didn’t respond, she just lay there, breathing. Ellie lifted her gaze to the cardiac monitor. A green line danced across the screen, its peaks and dips in a regular rhythm. She didn’t know much about hearts or heart surgery, but the line looked steady and normal.

Two beeps later, Viola’s eyelashes fluttered, and she opened her eyes. The older woman turned toward the sound of Connor’s voice. “Your . . . wife?” The words were soft, strained, yet a hint of joy hung in her tone.

Ellie and Connor were here to urge the older woman to fight harder, to live for the future. Tears spilled down Ellie’s cheeks, not because Viola had responded in a positive way but at the relief she could feel in Connor’s grip on her hand. He lifted Ellie’s fingers to his lips and pressed a kiss to her knuckles. A tingle of sensation rippled down her arm.

“She’s going to be fine,” Connor said, turning to face Ellie, giving her a dazzling smile. The smile was all part of the show they were performing for his grandmother’s sake, yet it still did strange things to her insides.

The emotion of the moment made her feel light-headed and nauseated at the same time. Ellie took a breath, clearing the sensations, then turned to the woman on the bed. She must play her part.

Ellie didn’t remember much about Viola from her high school days except that the woman always seemed to rule everyone around her with an iron fist in a velvet glove. “Hello, Viola. It’s nice to see you again.” What an inane and ordinary thing to say to a dying woman who was now technically her grandmother-in-law.

Viola didn’t seem to care as she looked up at both her and Connor. “Did I hear you right?” she asked in a weak voice. “Are you married?”

“We are,” Ellie said at the same time as Connor.

“It’s all I’ve ever wanted for my grandson,” Viola said, her voice growing stronger. Tears rolled down the sides of her cheeks. “Weren’t you in Las Vegas this week, Connor?”

Connor nodded. “Ellie was in Vegas as well, looking for clients for her event-planning company. Our paths crossed.” He sent Ellie a heated look before turning back to his grandmother. “And we were so swept away with emotion, we couldn’t wait to marry.”

Joy filled her expression as she stared up at them. “It’s like my prayers have been answered.”

Connor patted his grandmother’s hand. “Don’t you worry about anything other than getting better. Ellie and I will be here to help.”

Viola’s eyes drifted closed, as though talking was taking everything out of her. “You’re newlyweds. You need time to yourselves.”

“We’re going to let you sleep, Grandmother.”

The older woman’s eyes snapped open. “Not yet. Please. Where will you live? Surely not at that small condominium of yours, Connor.”

Connor bent over and touched her face, gently stroking her velvety wrinkles. “We haven’t discussed our living arrangements yet. We were in a hurry to get home to see you.”

Disrupting the perfection of the sheets, Viola brought her frail, age-spotted hand to cover his. “It’s settled then. You’ll move into my house.”

“No, Grandmother,” Connor said. “We couldn’t do that. It’s your house.”

“I haven’t lived at Grayson House for years. The old house is in need of a few repairs that are well beyond my ability to oversee.”

“What kind of repairs?” Connor asked. “Why didn’t you ask for help?”

“I didn’t want to bother anyone.” Suddenly seeming too tired to hold her hand up, she dropped it at her side.