the greatest care of your friend. Someone drugged and poisoned him at your wedding.”
A sliver of anger coiled in my belly but quickly dissipated. I didn’t have the strength to be angry at the moment. I was too fucking sad. “It could have happened in town,” I said. “We just don’t know—”
“Brad, listen to me. I’m a patient man. I’ve had to be, to deal with Daphne’s issues and now Lucy’s. I’ve had to be loving and patient when sometimes I didn’t want to be. Sometimes I wanted to scream and punch something and run away from it all. It can be a lot to deal with.”
“I understand.” He had no idea.
“Do you? Because I didn’t succumb to those urges to punch walls. To run away. I stayed put, I maintained composure, because my family needed me.”
“I’ll do the same.”
“You’re a young man, Brad. So young yet.”
“I assure you my father and I—”
“Daphne isn’t your father’s responsibility, young man. She’s yours.”
“That’s not what I meant.” The anger threatened to coil once more. I liked Jonathan, but he was treating me like a child.
“Look. I like you. I do. But a man is dead, Brad. Can you tell me with certainty that my daughter is safe here?”
“With all due respect, Jonathan, she’s my wife now. I’ve told you I’ll take care of her, and I’ll tell you again. She and the baby are my first priority.”
“You’re going to see to her needs, then? Not go off avenging your friend?”
I don’t see why I can’t do both. I didn’t voice the words, though. “My father and I will investigate Sean’s death, of course. Would you rather we not? I can’t believe that of you.”
“I expect you to investigate. We all want to know what happened to prevent it from happening again. But you’re young. Don’t forget. I was young once too, and I know how easy it is to go off half-cocked when you’re angry.”
“You and I are two different people, Jonathan.”
“Maybe. I’m not so sure, though.”
I’m not so sure, though.
What the hell did that mean? Was there a side to Jonathan I wasn’t seeing? Something my father was looking into?
Maybe, but I couldn’t deal with the possibility at the moment.
“This conversation is over, I think.” I stood. “I will take care of Daphne and the baby. You have my word.”
He rose as well and nodded. “You take care of your wife, and I’ll take care of mine. Deal?”
“That was always the deal, Jonathan. Nothing has changed.”
Except that it had. Murph was gone. Dead.
And I would avenge him.
Jonathan was wrong about me.
I could take care of Daphne and avenge Murphy.
I could do both.
I could do it all, and I damned well would.
I had a lot to think about.
One thing I knew for sure. I needed to build a legacy for my wife and child, and to do that, I needed all information at my disposal.
Which meant one thing.
Daphne and I weren’t going back to college.
Chapter Thirty-Four
Daphne
Eight Months Later…
He was perfect.
My perfect little dove.
He was a boy, as I’d always known, and though I’d gone through the worst pain imaginable to bring him into this world, I’d do it all again in a heartbeat.
I’d chosen his name a few weeks earlier.
Jonah, which meant dove, because he’d always be my little dove. His middle name was Bradford after his father.
Jonah Bradford Steel.
My son.
My beautiful son.
Brad had let me name him, said I’d do a better job than he ever could.
“It’s a perfect name,” he told me. “For our perfect child.”
I held my newborn son and gazed down at his full head of dark hair. His eyes were dark blue, but there wasn’t a doubt in my mind that they’d turn dark brown like his father’s.
“Are you hungry, little dove?”
The nurses had shown me how to breastfeed him, and though we hadn’t had a lot of luck at first, he was finally getting the hang of it. My nipples were sore as all get-out, but they’d toughen up, everyone promised.
Didn’t matter. I didn’t care. All that mattered was Jonah. If I had to deal with sore nipples for him to get the nutrition to begin his growth into a strong man like his father, that was what I’d do.
I’d been home from the hospital a day now. My mother was visiting, and she and Mazie hovered over me and little Joe like flies milling around honey. I was happy to have them here.
My one regret?
George hadn’t lived to see the grandson he’d wanted so badly.
He’d