Authors: Cindy Kirk
Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #United States, #Romance, #Contemporary, #Contemporary Fiction, #Series, #Harlequin Special Edition
I
n an attempt to avoid elevator small talk, David took the stairs to the second floor. Once he reached the nurses’ station, he chatted with the staff while flipping through July’s thin chart. There wasn’t much information. She’d listed her marital status as single, her job as a freelance photographer and her address as Chicago, Illinois. There was no next of kin listed so if she was involved with someone, the relationship couldn’t be that significant.
He wondered what had happened to her job at the
Sun Times
and what had brought her to Jackson. While this was a beautiful part of the country and he’d always been proud to call it home, it wasn’t a “passing through” kind of place.
Well, he’d find out soon enough. David squared his shoulders and with clipboard in hand, turned and headed down the hall with purposeful strides. Only when he reached her room did he hesitate. Travis
was
following her now so there was really no reason for him to be here. Except he’d delivered her baby and they were old friends…of sorts.
Feeling as awkward as a fifteen-year-old, David rapped lightly on the partially closed door then pushed it open.
July sat in the bed with a tray of food before her, dressed in a simple hospital gown. She wasn’t show-stopping pretty, not like Celeste, but there was something compelling about her. Though she couldn’t be more than five foot three, with her big green eyes, shoulder-length auburn hair and a creamy complexion, she’d stand out in any crowd.
If she was surprised to see him, it didn’t show. She placed the dish of orange gelatin on the tray and stared at the red stitching on his lab coat. “I thought your name was spelled
W-A-L-L.
”
Relief washed over him. She remembered his name…even if she was off on the spelling. In the delivery room he hadn’t been sure she’d recognized him. And he hadn’t known how to ask.
“Because it’s pronounced the same, lots of people get the spelling wrong.” He ambled to the bed, hoping the tension that held him in a stranglehold didn’t show. “What’s this I hear? The nurses tell me you haven’t even been here twenty-four hours and you’re already asking when you can leave.”
“My insurance policy has a high deductible.” She lifted her chin. “I’m a cost-conscious consumer.”
David rocked back on his heels and cursed his insensitivity. The comment had been meant to tease, to break the ice, not make her feel bad. “If you need financial assistance, we have a wonderful social service department. I can have someone stop—”
“You misunderstand,” she interrupted. “I
have
savings. I just want to keep as much of it as possible.”
“Of course. Excellent. Well, if you change your mind, let me know.” David found himself stumbling over the words. Normally he could talk to anyone about anything. But here he stood, tongue-tied and awkward. Feeling this unsure didn’t make any sense. Neither did her coolness. After all, they’d parted on good terms.
“Barring anything unforeseen, you should be able to go home tomorrow,” he said finally when the silence grew intolerable. “One of our home health nurses will check on you twenty-four hours after you leave the hospital. It’s an extra service we offer.”
July’s emerald eyes took on a distant look. “I’ll need to buy a car seat and then come back for Adam—”
“When you leave here you need to take it easy,” he said in a firm voice, as if she were one of his patients. “The baby will be staying with us for a while longer so there’s no rush on the car seat.”
“The nurses told me he was doing fine.” Fear skittered across her face and her eyes filled with tears. “Has something happened to him?”
“He’s a little jaundiced. Not unexpected in a pree
mie,” David said in what he hoped was a reassuring tone. Though he didn’t have a lot to do with obstetrics, the hormone surge experienced after delivery was well-documented. He should have chosen his words more carefully.
“When my water broke, I knew it was too early.” Her voice cracked and she collapsed back against the pillows, looking much younger than her twenty-six years. “I couldn’t stop it. Everything went so fast…”
“There wasn’t anything you could have done differently.” He resisted the urge to pat her on the shoulder. “Your body was ready to deliver when you walked through the door.”
“I don’t know how that happened,” July continued, almost to herself. “The doctor swore I’d go late.”
“What was your due date?” David asked in as casual a tone as he could muster.
“April 15.”
The tension that had been gripping his shoulders slid to his chest. He’d been calculating dates in his mind from the moment he’d recognized her name on the medical record and had seen her swollen belly. If she was due the middle of April she’d had to have gotten pregnant around the time they’d been together in Chicago. Though he thought he was doing a good job at keeping his emotions from his face, he knew he’d failed when her gaze narrowed.
“Don’t worry.” She waved a hand. “He’s not your baby.”
“How can you be sure he’s not mine?” The second
the question shot from his lips David wondered if he’d lost his mind. She’d just handed him a free pass and he was arguing? But a man didn’t walk away from his responsibilities. “The dates match.”
“We used a condom,” she reminded him. “
Every
time.”
“Are you telling me you had unprotected sex with someone else around that time?”
“Look.” She shoved the tray table out of the way and leaned forward. “The Sir Galahad act is unnecessary. Adam is not your son.”
She sounded sincere. What she said made sense. But he remembered that night as if it were yesterday. There had been nothing practiced in her responses, which told him she hadn’t been with a man in a while. Yet now she expected him to believe she’d spent the night with him then promptly went out and had sex with another guy? It was possible, but something in his gut told him she was lying.
He didn’t like doubting her. She’d impressed him from the onset as being one of those people who told it as she saw it. He’d liked that about her.
David opened his mouth to ask one of half a dozen questions poised on the tip of his tongue, but shut it without speaking. The set of her jaw told him he wasn’t going to get anything more from her. At least not by going the direct route.
He rocked back on his heels. “Are you really going to call him Adam?”
“What’s wrong with it?”
David hid a smile at the challenge in her tone. Feisty. That was another of the qualities that had drawn him to her in that hotel bar. “When I was a boy our next door neighbors had two bulldogs. One named Adam. The other, Eve.”
“Well, I have a good friend named Adam and he’s definitely not a dog.”
A good friend? By the caring in her tone…definitely. But more? David fought an unexpected surge of jealousy, before remembering she hadn’t even given this guy’s name as an emergency contact. “How’d you meet? Neighbors?”
July lifted a shoulder in an unconcerned shrug. “Foster care.”
Just when he thought he was beginning to get a handle on her, she’d surprised him again. Without waiting for an invitation, David dropped to sit on the edge of her bed. “You never told me you grew up in foster care.”
“If you remember, once we got to your room we didn’t do much talking.”
David thought back. She was right. Once that hotel door had clicked shut and they’d hit the bed there hadn’t been much conversation. Lots of moaning but not much intelligible communication. But had she forgotten how they’d sat in the hotel bar for hours doing nothing
but
talking?
“We discussed all sorts of things before that,” David insisted. “Triathlon training. Best Indie Horror movies. Food favorites.”
“We talked about our likes and dislikes,” July reminded him. “But we shared very little about our personal lives.”
He paused for a moment and realized she was right. She hadn’t mentioned anything about her childhood. And he hadn’t mentioned he’d had a wife who’d died. “Foster care couldn’t have been easy.”
An unreadable look filled her eyes. “What doesn’t kill us makes us stronger.”
Those horrible days after the car accident flashed before him. Though David didn’t feel stronger, at least he no longer dwelled on something that couldn’t be changed. “I’m surprised you weren’t adopted.”
Instead of a quick comeback, she paused, her green eyes dark. “It was…complicated.”
“Tell me,” he urged when she didn’t continue.
She shook her head. When the bulldog set to her jaw returned he knew she’d shared all she was going to on the matter.
“How did you end up here anyway?” Her gaze narrowed. “When we met, you were supposedly living in Minneapolis and planning to move to Chicago.”
“No supposedly about it. I was working at Hennepin but had accepted the position at Rush when you and I talked.” David shifted his gaze out the window and let it linger on the snowy mountain peaks in the distance.
He’d felt so lost after Celeste’s death. So alone. Unable to shake the sadness, he’d moved to the Twin Cities, hoping a change of scene would help. It hadn’t. He’d been planning another move, this time to Chicago, the night he’d met July.
“What happened?” she asked.
“I had lunch with an old friend the day after we…were together. We’d known each other a long time. He knew my—” David paused “—situation. After talking to him I realized that being in Jackson—with my family—was where I belonged.”
“Please, don’t let me keep you from your
family,
” she said, her green eyes as cool as her tone.
“I still have a few minutes.” David needed to get to his nephew’s party but just like the last time they were together, he found himself reluctant to leave her. “How did your friend Adam respond when you called and gave him the good news?”
“I haven’t been able to reach him,” she said in a matter-of-fact tone.
The announcement over the PA system advised visitors it was time to leave. David glanced at the clock on the wall. Ten minutes to get to his sister’s house. Ten minutes or he was in the doghouse for life. He rose to his feet. “I’d better go.”
She didn’t say another word, merely gave him a polite smile, the kind you’d give a casual acquaintance you didn’t plan to see again.
“I’ll check on you tomorrow,” he promised even as he edged closer to the door, still reluctant to leave. “See how you’re feeling, make sure you’re up to going home.”
“There’s no need—”
The door swung open and an older staff nurse, who’d worked for the hospital since David had been a baby,
stepped into the room, a blue-wrapped bundle in her arms. “Mrs. Greer, you have a visitor.”
David saw July flinch at the “Mrs.” but she didn’t correct the woman. Instead her green eyes widened and her gaze remained riveted on the baby.
The gray-haired nurse stopped when she saw David. “Dr. Wahl. I didn’t mean to interrupt. I didn’t realize you were still here.”
“It’s fine. I was on my way out.” David knew his sister and family were waiting. Knew his nephews would refuse to start the party until he got there. Even so, he took an extra second to linger and admire the baby that very easily could be his.
“Thanks for coming tonight.” Mary Karen Vaughn stood beside David on the porch of the large two-story white clapboard she shared with her three sons, their maternal grandmother, Fern, and supersized cockapoo, Henry. “Logan was so excited to see you.”
“Three little boys throwing cake at each other.” David winked. “Wouldn’t have missed it for the world.”
Actually, this evening the terrible trio had been fairly well-behaved. And the war-whoop the twins and Logan had let loose when he’d walked through the door had warmed his heart. Of course, with his parents on a European cruise, his only competition was Granny Fern. And while the boys loved their great-grandmother, they’d stuck tight to his side all evening.
After the spaghetti had been eaten and the two candles blown out on the cake, Granny had gone to her
room for some well-needed “shut-eye.” Last week she’d tripped over the dog and cracked a rib.
Though Granny loved helping with the boys and watching them while Mary Karen worked an occasional shift at the hospital, David worried about her. The older woman needed more rest than she was able to get in this busy household. That was one of the reasons he’d stayed and helped Mary Karen get the boys bathed and in bed. But that wasn’t the only reason. Keeping busy kept thoughts of July at bay.
“You’re so good with the boys.” Mary Karen turned to the rail and stared out into the darkness. Far off in the distance, a coyote wailed. She pulled her coat tight around her. “You and Celeste should have had children.”
Celeste had liked Mary Karen as much as she’d liked anyone in Jackson, but David knew his sister had hoped more closeness would come when they had children in common.
David wasn’t sure it would have made a difference. Celeste had been so different from his down-to-earth sister. Different than most of the women in Jackson. He smiled. His wife had been a hothouse rose in a field of wildflowers.
It wasn’t an exaggeration to say Celeste had been the most beautiful woman in Jackson. Men would stop on the street and stare when she walked by. She’d been a city girl to the core, a woman who’d loved shopping, travel and him. When they’d left California and moved to Jackson, she’d kept her job as a marketing rep for a
company based in Los Angeles. He’d worried about her being on the road so much, but accepted the fact that she loved her job too much to quit.
Then two years ago, on her way to the airport for a business trip, her sports car had been broadsided by a drunk driver. She’d been killed instantly. When he’d heard the news, a part of him had died with her.
At the time Mary Karen had just delivered Logan. Connor and Caleb, the twins, had just turned two. While his sister’s household had always been chaotic, to add to her stress, her husband of three years had started making noises that he’d rather be single.
“I wish we’d had a baby, too,” David murmured into the quiet stillness. “But we wanted to wait for just the right moment. We thought we had all the time in the world.”