Stella turned and joined Morgan and Lance on the lawn. She hugged Morgan. “How did he get inside?”
“I don’t know,” Morgan said. “I’m absolutely positive I set the alarm as soon as I got home and again after I took the dog out.”
Stella rubbed her arm. “Brody is on his way. He’ll review the surveillance feed. He’ll find out what happened.”
The paramedics loaded Grandpa onto a gurney. His face was as white as the pillow under his head, and worry roiled in Morgan’s belly.
“I need to go to the hospital, but I don’t want to leave Gianna and the girls here, not after the break-in.” Morgan brushed her hair out of her face. Would she ever feel safe in her own home again? She didn’t know who had broken into her house or why.
“Mac is on his way home,” Stella said. “But he won’t be here for a few more hours.”
Morgan turned to Lance.
“What can I do?” he asked.
“Can you take the girls and Gianna to your place?” She had complete faith that he’d protect them.
“Are you sure?” he asked. “I hate to leave you alone right now.”
Morgan hated to give up his support too, but . . . “My kids come first. They were in danger tonight. I can’t function if they aren’t safe. Gianna will help you get their stuff together.” She looked into his eyes. “Please, I need to know they’re safe.” Her gaze drifted to the ambulance pulling out of the driveway.
“Or course I’ll take care of them. I’ll do anything you need.” Lance rubbed her arms.
“Thank you. I have to go inside and get my purse. I’ll get you the keys to my minivan.” She started toward the house, still feeling dazed. “I can take Grandpa’s car to the hospital.”
“No need. I have my Jeep,” Lance said.
“I doubt two car seats and a booster will fit in it.” Morgan moved toward the house.
“I’m going to follow the ambulance. Are you all right to drive yourself to the hospital?” Stella asked.
“Yes. I’ll be a few minutes getting the girls ready.” Morgan had thought juggling three young children and an aging grandfather was difficult before. Handling an intruder and a probable broken leg for her grandfather seemed overwhelming.
“You’d better get dressed too.” Stella took her keys from her pocket.
Morgan looked down at her bare feet, which would be freezing if she weren’t numb with shock. She’d forgotten she was in her pajamas. “Right.”
The ambulance pulled away, lights flashing red in the darkness. Stella followed in her car.
Morgan went inside and got dressed, then helped Gianna pack a change of clothes for each of the girls. Lance carried Mia and Ava to the van with a brief explanation about Grandpa being hurt. Gianna grabbed some dog food, snapped Snoozer’s leash to his collar, and carried him to the minivan.
“Mommy, don’t weave me.” Sophie clutched Morgan’s thigh.
Morgan crouched. “I have to go with Grandpa to make sure he’s OK. Lance will keep you safe.”
Sophie’s gaze drifted toward the open doorway to Grandpa’s bedroom. How much did she understand? Between being attacked and seeing her beloved Grandpa lying on the concrete in obvious pain, poor Sophie was traumatized. “Pwomise?”
“Promise.” Morgan hugged her daughter. She wished she could be two people right now. How could she possibly take care of three children and her grandfather? The answer was, she couldn’t, at least not alone. She needed help.
She needed someone to lean on, to trust, to share the burden, and she knew without a doubt that Lance was that person. Together, he and Gianna were perfectly capable of caring for the girls. But it still broke her heart to put Sophie in her car seat, shut the minivan door, and watch it drive away.
Brody and two patrol cars arrived at the house just before Morgan left. She gave Brody an abbreviated statement and left him to his investigation. When she was finally ready to go to the hospital, her hands trembled on the steering wheel of Grandpa’s Lincoln Town Car. She blasted the heat for the entire drive but was still shaking when she parked her car in the emergency lot. Stella was waiting outside a cubicle in the ER hallway.
“How is he?” Morgan unzipped her coat.
“His vitals are strong,” Stella began. “But his leg is badly broken. He’s going to need surgery to repair it. Do you have a list of his medications?”
“I do.” Morgan opened her tote bag and unzipped the side pouch. She withdrew a notecard. She kept several printed copies in her bag and a backup note in her phone. Grandpa usually carried a copy in his wallet, which he hadn’t had on him in the middle of the night. Stella walked the card to the nurses’ station and handed it to the doctor.
“Is he going to be OK?” Morgan asked when her sister returned.
“The surgery will be hard on him at his age, but he’s tough.” Stella chewed on a nail. “And we really don’t have any options.”
A nurse emerged through the sliding glass door. “We’re going to take him upstairs in a few minutes. Do you want to see him first?”
Morgan and Stella went to his bed. Morgan did not allow herself a reaction. Grandpa lay surrounded by beeping monitors and dripping IVs. He looked as if he’d shrunk. Just a few months ago, before his blood pressure had suddenly spiked, he’d been a robust, active man. The sheer stillness of his body shocked Morgan.
He opened his eyes and held out a hand. “My girls.”
They went to his side. Morgan took his hand, taking comfort that his grip was strong despite his obvious frailty.
“I called Peyton and Ian,” Stella said. “They’re both going to come as soon as they can.”
“No need for them to travel all this way,” Grandpa rasped. “The surgery will be over before either one of them can get here.”
“That’s not the point.” Morgan gave his hand a gentle squeeze. “We all love you.”
Peyton and Ian hadn’t been around much in the past few years, but that didn’t mean they loved him less.
“I love you too, but don’t look all glum,” he ordered. “I’m not ready to die yet. I have things to do.”
The nurse tapped on the door frame. “We’re going to take him up now.”
Morgan and Stella each gave him a kiss on the cheek before retreating to the hallway. They followed posted directions to the surgical waiting room.
In the small, ugly mauve room, Stella made a cup of coffee on a pod machine in the corner. “He’s tough. Try not to worry too much.”
“I know.” Morgan would rather talk about anything except the surgery. And silence amplified her worry. “When are Peyton and Ian coming?”
“I don’t know. Peyton checked for flights, but they were all full. She’s going to get on the standby list.” Stella sank into a plastic chair. “I left a message for Ian.”
“He must be working. It’s not like he can return a call when he’s busy with a hostage situation or serving a high-risk warrant.”
“He should visit more.” Stella lifted her Styrofoam cup. “Want one?”