Unexpected Lovers (15 page)

Whitney sat wearily on the couch in the living room, and her father took the seat across from her.

“Eric is heavily in debt.”

“I don’t get it.”

“I’m not sure what’s been going on, but he’s been trying to borrow from several of our well-known clients at the firm. They all turned him down. John Watson called me last night and told me after I talked to you.”

“The insurance money.”

“It appears he needs a lot to get out of debt.”

“Millions apparently,” she whispered in awe as the whole scenario came to light. She stood and moved toward the stairs. “I’m going to bed. I’m exhausted with trying to remember, losing the baby, and everything.”

“Baby?” her mother asked, shocked.

“Yes, Mother. I was pregnant I guess, but not anymore. I lost it when Eric hit me.”

“Eric hit you?”

A rush of air escaped her lips in a heavy sigh. “I’ll explain later. Talk to you in the morning.”

Grabbing her suitcase, she wearily trudged up the stairs and headed for her former bedroom. Once she pushed open the door and moved toward the bed, the tears started to fall as emptiness surrounded her. She felt like she’d left her soul in Flagstaff. Sitting on the edge of the bed, she buried her face in her hands and cried until there weren’t any more tears. Curled up on the bed on her side, she wiped the tears and tucked her hands beneath her face. After several moments, she sat up and grabbed her suitcase, unzipping it to retrieve her clothes.

Several sheets of folded paper lay on top of the things inside. She frowned and opened them. Her mouth dropped open when she read the top one.
Divorce Decree.

* * * *

Two weeks. It’d been two weeks since she’d left.

“Doc?”

“Yeah.”

“What’s gotten into you? You’ve been moping around here for the last two weeks.”

“Nothing,” he snapped.

“Sorry I asked,” Mara said, moving toward the other side of the nurse’s station.

“Chopper One to Flagstaff ER.”

Brett moved toward the radio. “Flagstaff, go.”

“We got a hot one, Brett,” Ryan said from the other end of the radio. “Head-on collision, Interstate Seventeen. One DOA coming in via ambulance. I’ve got a young pregnant woman, mid to late twenties. She’s twelve weeks with some vaginal bleeding. Currently unconscious, vital signs stable, fluids infusing. Be there in five.”

“Copy, Ryan, see you in a few,” Brett answered before he dropped the receiver back on the cradle.
Shit!
He raked his fingers through his hair and sighed.
This is all I need today, someone who reminds of Whitney.
Who the hell am I kidding? Everyone reminds me of her.

“Get trauma one ready,” he ordered the nurse standing nearby.

The emergency room staff scrambled to get everything ready moments before Brett heard the helicopter land and Ryan burst through the doors, pushing a gurney.

“Hey, cousin.”

Brett met Ryan’s gazes over the body of the woman on the stretcher.”What have we got?”

Ryan gave him a quick report and moved out of the way so Brett could work. When he stopped at the head of the gurney, he sucked in a harsh breath when he saw the woman lying there.

“Whitney?” Brett asked, meeting Ryan’s gaze across the room.

“It’s not Whitney, Brett. Her name is Laura Oliver. Her husband is the DOA coming in.”

“But she looks just like Whitney.”

“I know. Focus, Brett.”

Shaking his head, he started barking orders for tests, fluids, and a CAT scan of her head and her abdomen. He could figure out what the hell was going on after he got her stabilized.

Two hours later, he sighed and leaned back in the chair at the desk. The woman hadn’t regained consciousness, and it worried him. Luckily, she hadn’t lost the pregnancy. The baby still sat snugly in her womb.
Not like Whitney. She lost hers.

Neither he nor Ryan had heard from her since she left, and he fought with himself over whether to call her, go to L.A. and force her to remember them or do what his brain said and let her go.
But what the hell? The woman lying in there on the gurney could be Whitney’s twin or sister.

“Could she be Whitney’s sister? She said she had three sisters, but she never told us what their names were.” The chair rocked forward when realization hit him.
Maybe it is Whitney’s sister.
He turned to the nurse next to him and said, “Do we have any more information on the woman in there?”

“No. Just that her name is Laura Oliver and her husband is the DOA in the other room. She lives in Los Angeles, apparently, according to her driver’s license.”

I have Aaron Morris’ number. I wonder if I should call him. It would be an excuse to find out how Whitney’s doing, too.

“I’ll be in the doctor’s lounge if you need me. I need to make a phone call.”

“Sure, Doctor Novak.”

Heading down the hall, he pushed open the lounge door and pulled out his cell phone. With shaking hands that he flexed to try to calm them, he flipped through the contacts. He quickly found Aaron’s phone number and hit talk.

“Morris, Armstrong and Collins, Attorneys-At-Law. Can I help you?”

“Yes, I need to speak with Aaron Morris.”

“I’m sorry, but Mr. Morris isn’t available right now. May I take a message?”

“My name is Doctor Brett Novak, and I need to speak with him or his daughter Whitney immediately.”

“I believe Whitney is still at her parents’ home. You could probably call her there. Mr. Morris is in court this morning and can’t be reached.”

“Can you give me that number?”

“I’m sorry, sir, but I can’t give out that information.”

“Listen, I don’t have time to argue with you. I need to speak to one or the other of them right now. I’m an emergency room physician in Flagstaff, and I may have one of their family members in my ER.”

He heard a gasp on the other end.

“Well, I don’t know. I should check with—”

“All right, listen. Call Whitney and tell her to call Brett. Here’s my number. She’ll know who you’re talking about.”

Even if she didn’t remember their time together, she still knew who he was.
God, I hope she calls.
With a heavy sigh, he moved toward the door to check on his patient.

* * * *

“Brett called and wants me to call him?” Whitney asked the woman on the other end of the line.

“Yes, ma’am. He said it was important and that you needed to call him right away. He said he may have one of your family members in the ER there.”

“I’ll call right now.”

Whitney hung up the home phone and grabbed her cell. She quickly dialed the number her father’s new secretary gave her, praying it wasn’t one of her family that now lay in Brett’s emergency room at the hospital in Arizona.

“Hello?”

His deep baritone sent her heart racing. She still didn’t remember him other than when she woke up, but seeing him and hearing his voice gave her goose bumps.

“Brett?”

“Whitney?”

“Yes. What’s going on? My father’s secretary called and said—”

“I need to ask you a question. What are your sisters’ names?”

“Why?”

“Just answer me, please.”

“Cindy is the eldest, then there’s Sherry, me, and the baby of the family is Laura.”

“Last names. I need last names, too.”

“Cindy isn’t married so it’s still Morris. Sherry’s last name is Compton, and Laura’s last name is Oliver.”

“Shit.”

“Brett, what’s going on? You’re scaring me.”

“You need to call your dad, sweetheart. Get in touch with him immediately.”

“Brett?”

“I have your sister in my emergency room. Your family needs to come. Her husband was killed, and she hasn’t regained consciousness.”

“Oh my God,” she whispered, her hands shaking as she pressed them to her lips.

“Whit?

No one ever called her Whit.
Except Brett and Ryan.

She blinked several times.

Oh God! I remember!

“Oh, Brett.” Tears streamed down her cheeks. Memories zipped across her mind. Dancing with Ryan at the bar and Brett cutting in. The laughter they shared so many times at his house while she recuperated from Eric’s attempted murder. Cooking for them the first time and Brett’s shocked expression when she’d smack him with the spoon. Watching movies with both of them and arguing about what kind because they always wanted to watch action flicks or slaher movies.

Ryan carrying her upstairs to show her his apartment and cuddling on his couch for over an hour before he took her back downstairs. How much she loved his smell. His cologne.
That’s why his scent made me feel so safe at the emergency room.

The three of them making love after they celebrated her divorce and how cherished she’d felt in their arms. And finally, her telling them she was leaving even though she couldn’t tell them exactly why.

The pain in their eyes had made her want to stay.

God, I hurt them. I wanted to protect them, and all I did was hurt them anyway.

She had been pregnant with Eric’s child, and she couldn’t expect them to raise a child that didn’t belong to either of them.

A heavy, forlorn sigh escaped her lips.
Neither of them had said he loved me. It didn’t mean anything more than another notch on the bedpost, another woman they shared, to add to the growing list.

“We’ll be there in a few hours. Take care of her for me, please.”

“Of course. I wouldn’t do any less.”

“I know.”

* * * *

“Whitney’s coming here?” Ryan’s raised voice asked on the other end of the phone.

Brett could hear the excitement in his cousin’s voice, and he hated to be the one to burst the bubble. “Yes, but it’s only because of her sister, Ryan, not us. She still doesn’t remember.”

“Shit. I wish I knew how to get through to her.”

“Me, too, but we can’t force her. She’ll remember when she’s ready. The memories could be blocked because of the trauma of trying to be killed, the pregnancy she didn’t want us to know about, or even because of the three of us making love. For a lot of people, that’s not normal.”

“I know.”

“Are you coming up here?”

“Of course. I wouldn’t miss the chance to see her again, even if she doesn’t recall me or us. Did she say when she’d be there?”

“It should be shortly. I talked to her several hours ago. Mr. Morris had to have the plane readied, and when I called, they told me he was in court.”