After the police had arrived and questioned us, Tate and I had taken Matty to the hospital to be checked out and then we’d gone to a motel to spend the night. Tate and I hadn’t spoken much as I’d held him in my arms and he’d held Matty in his as Matty had slept. We hadn’t needed to say anything. Because we’d both been aware of how close we’d come to losing each other and our son.
The next day I’d learned more about what had driven Buck to seek us out and when I’d had Daisy investigate Jenna DuCane, I’d been led to her father, Magnus, a Texas Ranger. Tate had been scared to reach out to Matty’s maternal grandfather, but he’d known it needed to be done. His biggest fear had been that the man would try to seek custody of his grandson. We’d been back in Seattle at that point and Matty had been undergoing his second round of chemo, so I’d flown down to Texas to talk to Magnus so I could try to feel him out. What I’d found was a devastated, broken man who’d been searching for his then seventeen-year-old daughter and three-year-old grandson for two years. He hadn’t known about Buck and Denny and it was me who’d ended up having to tell him his daughter was likely dead based on Buck’s comments to Tate in the barn.
At only forty years old, Magnus DuCane was still a young man, but I could tell that his daughter’s disappearance had aged him significantly and I’d understood the raw pain he’d been enduring both in the two years he’d been searching for her and the day I’d told him she wasn’t coming home. The only thing that had caused the tiniest spark of hope to flare in the man’s eyes was when he’d learned his grandson was alive. I’d spoken with Tate that night on the phone and had explained what Magnus had been going through and it had been his idea to bring the man home with me so he could see Matty for himself.
Three weeks later and Magnus was still here.
We’d taken our time explaining who Magnus was to Matty and although he’d understood that the man was his grandfather, he hadn’t asked too many questions about his mother. But we knew there would be a day when he would and Magnus would be the only one who could tell him who she’d been. Tate had been welcoming to Magnus, but his fear that Magnus would try to take Matty away from us hadn’t eased until Magnus had pulled us both aside one day when Matty had been asleep in his hospital bed and thanked us for giving him a chance to know his grandson again. He’d gone on to thank Tate for saving Matty’s life and he’d told him that he could think of no two better parents to raise Matty. His only ask was that he could still be included in Matty’s life. After that, Magnus had been enfolded into our little family and I had no doubt that the man stood no chance against Matty’s persistent request asking him to stay.
Matty’s second round of chemo had progressed much like the first, though he’d been more worn out this time around and had spent a lot of time sleeping or just lying in bed. There’d been some rough days too as Matty had struggled with the inevitable pain that came along with his treatments, but between all of us, we’d managed to build a good support system for him. His recovery from the events of that terrible day in the barn had been slow and he’d been plagued with nightmares. A child psychologist was helping him work through the trauma and expected that Matty would eventually completely recover. There’d been some concern that Ricardo Davos would send someone after us to get rid of any potential links to his organization, but between Daisy monitoring the man and Ronan bringing in several of his guys to give all of us round the clock protection, I knew Matty and Tate were safe. And Matty had found himself his own personal bodyguard in Mav who spent nearly every day at the hospital stationed outside of Matty’s room. The only time he gave up his post was when he was forced to get some sleep.
Tate and I hadn’t started the process of looking for a house in Seattle yet since we spent so much time at the hospital. We’d ended up taking up residence at the same hotel Ronan and Seth had gotten Tate set up in for the first round of Matty’s chemo. I also hadn’t started looking for a job since Matty’s treatment was scheduled to last another four months. I had managed to talk Tate into taking a photography course so that he’d be able to spend some time outside the hospital and after much reluctance, he’d finally consented to try it and had ultimately been excited to have something back in his life that had always brought him so much pleasure. In hopes of encouraging Tate to one day pursue his passion as a career, I’d also surprised him with an expensive camera that his instructor had recommended.