Chapter 6 - The Haven Ridge Sanctuary
Haven Ridge was a majestic stone manor nestled deep within two hundred acres of private pine forest in Upstate New York. Surrounded by mountain fog and secured by high stone walls, it was the place where Andrew went when the heavy weight of his dark empire became too much to bear.
The black SUV pulled up the winding gravel driveway late the following afternoon.
The air was crisp and smelled of pine needles and damp earth.
Cindy stepped out of the vehicle, breathing in the mountain air. For the first time in four days, the tight knot of anxiety in her chest began to loosen.
Andrew walked around the car, taking her hand into his big, warm grip. He led her up the wide stone steps toward the heavy oak doors, where a middle-aged woman in a nurse’s uniform was waiting.
"Mr. Carter," the nurse greeted warmly. "She’s having a very lucid afternoon today."
Andrew nodded, his face softening with a rare, quiet warmth. He guided Cindy down a wide, sunlit hallway lined with oil paintings to a bright glass conservatory overlooking a manicured rose garden.
Sitting in a wheelchair near the window, wrapped in a hand-knitted floral shawl, was an elderly woman with silver hair and eyes the exact shade of blue as Andrew's.
"Mother," Andrew said gently, kneeling beside her chair.
Evelyn Carter turned her head slowly. Her eyes, usually clouded by the mist of advanced dementia, cleared as she looked at her son. A warm, beautiful smile spread across her lined face.
"Andrew," she rasped softly, reaching out a trembling hand to touch his cheek. "My boy. You came."
"I brought someone I want you to meet," Andrew said softly, turning to extend his hand toward Cindy.
Cindy stepped forward, kneeling beside Andrew on the stone floor. "Hello, Mrs. Carter. I'm Cindy."
Evelyn looked at Cindy for a long, quiet moment. Her sharp blue eyes traveled from Cindy's warm dark eyes down to her hand, which was firmly locked in Andrew's grip.
A soft, knowing chuckle escaped the older woman's lips.
"So you're the one," Evelyn murmured, her voice surprisingly clear. "Andrew talks about you every time he visits."
Cindy blinked in surprise, glancing sideways at Andrew, whose sharp jawline suddenly took on a faint flush of color.
"Mother..." Andrew warned softly.
"Oh, don't 'Mother' me, Andrew," Evelyn smiled, taking Cindy's free hand between her frail fingers. "He tells me about your spreadsheets, about how you scold him for working past eight, and how you bring him terrible black coffee."
Cindy let out a soft, genuine laugh—the first real laugh Andrew had heard from her since the attack.
"He never told me he talked about me," Cindy said warmly.
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"He doesn't talk about anyone else, child," Evelyn whispered, leaning closer to Cindy. "In forty years, I have never seen my son look at another human being the way he looks at you right now. Take care of him. He acts tough, but his heart is too big for the world he lives in."
Tears pricked the back of Cindy's eyes as she squeezed the older woman's hand. "I will, Mrs. Carter. I promise."
