My Father Went to Prison for Their Money, So I Married Their Heir novel · Chapter 20 of 32

Chapter 20: The Infirmary

Beau was at the Oglethorpe's front steps in six minutes, in his truck, with the engine running and the passenger door already open.

I had called him from the prison number, and he had not asked one question.

He drove the three hours to Reidsville with both hands on the wheel and one of mine in his lap.

He did not mention the note on his pillow or the wine.

When I told him about Winston's offer he said only, "Good," and when I told him about the bottle he laughed once, short and astonished, and then went quiet again.

"I'll wait in the lot," he said at the gate.

"They'd let you in."

"I know. He needs you, not me."

The infirmary was a long low room with eight beds and a smell of disinfectant.

My father lay in the last bed, under a thin blanket, with a drip in his arm and a monitor ticking beside him.

He looked small.

A nurse told me it was his heart, a rhythm trouble, and that he was stable and had refused to be sent to the outside hospital.

"He's stubborn," she said.

"I know."

I pulled a chair to the bed and took his free hand.

It was cold, and there was a bruise from the needle.

"Hello, Daddy."

His eyes opened behind the thick lenses, which someone had put back on his face.

"Sabra Jean. You came all this way."

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