Harlequin American Romance May 2014 Bundle: One Night in Texas\The Cowboy's Destiny\A Baby for the Doctor\The Bull Rider's Family (3 page)

Bile rose up in her throat.

“Are you okay?” He reached out to touch her and she jerked back.

“Don’t touch me.” If his skin touched hers, she would lose what little self-respect she still maintained. The memory of his skin against hers was still vivid after all these years. The warmth, the passion, would always be part of her because they’d created Erin. She could not remain strong when he was gentle and understanding.

Footfalls pounded against the tiled floor and the door flew open. The Wiznowski family charged in. The whole group grabbed her in a hug. Her legs buckled. The support of her family held her upright.

Over her sister’s shoulder she saw Hardy moving toward the door. Her mother noticed it, too.

“How could you hit our precious Erin? Were you drinking or on your phone?”

“No, ma’am.”

“Why weren’t you paying attention, then?”

“I was. She just came out of nowhere,” Hardy replied stiffly.

“She’s just a little girl.” Tears filled Doris’s eyes, and Angie hugged her mother.

“It was an accident, Mama. The doctor said Erin’s going to be okay. She just needs surgery on her leg and time to heal.”

“Thank God.”

“Is she in surgery?” Patsy asked.

“Yes.”

“So we wait.” Patsy sank into a chair, as did Peggy, AnaMarie, her other sister, and their dad, Willard. Doris kept staring at Hardy. Angie just wanted some peace and quiet and not to have to referee family squabbles.

Her brother Bubba entered the room, and, before anyone could stop him, he swung his right fist at Hardy, who staggered backward from the blow to his jaw. He didn’t go down, which was a feat, because Bubba was six foot two and weighed about three hundred pounds.

“Stop it,” she said, getting between the two men.

“He hurt Cupcake.” Bubba raised his fist again. “I’m gonna kill him.”

“Cupcake ran out in front of his truck,” Angie pointed out. “There is a difference.” Bubba had always called Erin Cupcake because he said she was so sweet.

“I don’t care. I’m still gonna hurt him.” Bubba made a move toward Hardy and Angie tried to hold him back.

“I’ll give you the first one, Bubba, but that’s it.” Hardy rubbed his jaw with murder in his eye.

The door opened again, and Wyatt and Peyton came in. Wyatt took the situation in at a glance. “What’s going on?”

Bubba looked at Wyatt. “Hardy hurt Cupcake.”

“It was an accident. A terrible accident, and Angie doesn’t need to deal with this on top of everything else.”

Her father got to his feet. “Son, the sheriff is right. This is not the time or the place for your anger. If you can’t control yourself, then you need to go home.”

Angie took a deep breath. “I would appreciate it if everyone went home. I need to focus on Erin, and I can’t handle this bickering right now.”

“We’re not leaving you alone,” Doris said. “This is a time when you need your family.”

Angie remembered her mother saying the same words when Angie had been pregnant and Dennis had left her. But Angie had refused to be browbeaten and treated like a child. She wouldn’t allow it today, either.

Before she could say a word, Wyatt spoke up, “Maybe it’s best if we let Angie have some quiet time. She’ll call if she needs us.” Wyatt knew the Wiznowski family and their constant squabbling.

Doris glared at Wyatt. “You may be the sheriff of Horseshoe and have control there, but you can’t tell me what to do concerning my daughter. I am her mother.”

“He might not be able to,” her father spoke up, to everyone’s surprise, “but I can. Let’s go. Angie will call if she needs us.”

“Willard—”

“You heard me, Doris.”

Angie had had enough. She was worried out of her mind about what her daughter was going through at that precise moment and she couldn’t take anymore. She bolted for the door and ran down the hall away from everybody.

She reached a nurse’s station and stopped. “Do you know if Erin Wiznowski is still in surgery? I’m her mother.”

The nurse looked at the computer screen and tapped a few keys. “Yes, she’s still in surgery. Dr. Robbins will be out to speak to you when it’s over.”

“Can I wait somewhere closer?”

“Sure. There are a couple of chairs around the corner, not far from the operating room. I’ll let Dr. Robbins know you’re there.”

“Thank you.” She went around the corner and sank into a chair. Taking several deep breaths, she tried to calm herself. So much had happened she didn’t even know if that was possible.

“Angie.”

She looked up to see Peyton standing there, a little unsure, which was out of character for her confident friend. “I brought this from your house.” She handed Angie her purse.

“Thank you. I’d forgotten about it.”

“Your phone’s in there, and so is your charger.”

Angie slipped the strap over her shoulder. “Is my family still here?”

“They were standing around the waiting room grumbling when I left.” Peyton cocked her head. “Which is typical of the Wiznowskis.”

“Yeah. That’s a nice way to say it.”

Peyton hugged her. “I’m a phone call away if you need anything.”

“I know, and I’ll call as soon as Erin is out of surgery.”

“I can stay if—”

Angie shook her head. “No. Go home to your babies. I know no one understands how I’m feeling, but I really need to be alone.”

“You got it. Talk to you tomorrow.” Peyton walked down the hall. Angie wished her family was as easy to deal with.

She glanced at her watch and saw it was almost eight o’clock. Why wasn’t the surgery over? She just couldn’t stand the thought of Erin’s perfect little body being operated on. Tears trickled from her eyes, and she brushed them away. More followed.
Oh, what the hell.
She needed to cry. That was the only way she was going to get this nightmare out of her system. The nervousness, the tension and the worry would still be there, but maybe she could cope better; at the moment she was losing a grip on everything she held dear.

“Angie.”

She looked up, brushing tears away as quickly as she could, and stared into those dark blue eyes that did a number on her self-control. Why couldn’t he follow everyone’s lead and leave?

He held a cup of coffee in each hand. “Thought you might need this.”

She accepted the drink gratefully. “Thank you.”

“Are you okay?”

“No. Erin’s never been away from me except to spend a night at my mom’s or Jody’s, but I’m never far away. I need to hold my baby to know she’s going to be fine. That’s when I’ll be okay.” Her hands gripped the warm cup. “And I’ll be much better once you get off the guilt trip, too. Please leave me in peace.”

“Sorry—I can’t do that until I know your daughter’s okay.”

“Her name is Erin,” she said, sharper than she’d intended. Maybe because a father should know his child’s name. And the father had a right to know he had a child.

How did she tell him that? How did she make up for ten years of keeping a secret without tearing Erin’s world apart? And without shattering Hardy’s?

She took a sip of the coffee and stared into the depths of the liquid, which was as dark as her soul. How had a good Catholic girl gone so wrong?

She cleared her throat. “Hardy...”

Chapter Three

Dr. Robbins came around the corner, stopping Angie. She ran to him. “How’s my daughter?”

The doctor pulled off his surgical cap. “She’s fine. Everything went smoothly. They’re taking her to a room. You can get the number from the nurse.”

“Oh, thanks.”

“We’ll go over her care first thing in the morning. She’ll probably sleep most of the night. If she complains about pain, I’ve left something on order for her.”

“Thank you.” Angie hurried down the hall to the nurse’s station. Hardy stared after her.

“She’s really going to be fine,” the doctor said to him.

“Yeah.” He sighed, wondering if she would recover completely. “She has a lot of weeks of healing ahead, though.”

“Kids are tough, and she’ll bounce back quickly.” The doctor nodded and followed Angie.

Hardy stood there feeling something he couldn’t explain. The little girl was going to be okay, so he should go home. His father and Olivia were waiting to hear from him. But for some reason, he couldn’t make himself leave the hospital. Maybe it was the worry on Angie’s face and the fact that he’d caused it.

He saw Wyatt walking toward him, and he went to meet him.

“What are you still doing here?” he asked his friend.

Wyatt handed him his truck keys. “Peyton and I brought your truck so you’ll have a way to get home.”

“Ah, man, thanks. It hasn’t crossed my mind yet that I don’t have a ride.”

“How’s Erin?”

“She’s out of surgery, and Angie has gone to be with her.”

Wyatt removed his hat and scratched his head. “I wish she’d let someone stay with her, but she’s one stubborn woman.”

“Her family is supervocal, and I can see how they’d suck the energy right out of her.”

Wyatt smiled. “They’re a lively bunch, for sure.” His friend looked at him. “Bubba didn’t mean anything. He just loves his niece.”

“I know that.” Hardy rubbed his sore jaw. The punch was nothing compared to what Angie’s daughter had suffered. He’d injured a child. He was still grappling with that.

“If you’re leaving, I’ll walk you out.”

“Um...I’m going to stick around for a bit. I want to make sure everything’s okay with the little girl.”

“It was an accident, Hardy. I was there, so stop blaming yourself.”

Hardy swiped a hand through his hair. “Tell that to my stomach.”

“It’ll get better.” Wyatt patted him on the shoulder. “I’ll catch you tomorrow.”

Hardy tossed his coffee cup in a trash can and went to the nurse’s desk to ask for the little girl’s room number. She was in the pediatric ward, and it didn’t take him long to find it. But he hesitated outside the door. Angie wasn’t going to like him being there.

The hall was quiet and the lights had been dimmed for the night. Parents were with their children. He should leave and come back tomorrow. But he couldn’t do that. He pushed the door open slightly.

Angie had a chair pulled close to the bed, and she was sitting in it, stroking her daughter’s hair back from her forehead. The light was low, but he could see her clearly. She looked so different from that young, innocent girl she’d been a long time ago.

There was nothing remarkable about Angie’s looks—she had golden-brown eyes, sandy-brown hair and a smooth complexion. Back then she’d been slim. Now her figure was more mature, and her hair was different, too. Evidently, her beautician sisters had highlighted it or something because it was more blond than brown now. She wore it in a ponytail with several strands curling around her face.

Yet Angie had a special quality that endeared her to everyone. When she talked, she spoke with a smile in her voice. She was open, honest and sweet. Everybody liked her. He was no exception.

The little girl stirred, and Angie was on her feet. An IV was still in the child’s arm. Angie leaned down and whispered, “Erin, baby, Mama’s here.”

“Mama?”

“Yes. I’m right here.”

“I...I feel funny.” The tiny voice was soft and weak, and Hardy’s stomach tightened like a balled fist.

“You’ve been in an accident, baby.”

“What...happened?”

“You were running after your beach ball and—”

“Yeah. I didn’t want it to go into Mrs. Wimby’s yard...’cause...she keeps things.”

Angie kissed the girl’s forehead. “I know, baby. Go back to sleep and we’ll talk about it tomorrow.”

“Have to get my ball, Mama, to go on our trip.”

“Shh. Go back to sleep. Mama’s here.”

“My head hurts.”

“I’ll get the nurse.”

Erin’s eyes opened wide. “Where...where are we?”

“In the hospital.”

“Why?” The little girl began to cry, and Hardy’s stomach clamped that much tighter.

“Shh, baby. You’re okay. Please don’t cry.”

The girl closed her eyes and drifted into a drug-induced sleep. Hardy stepped away from the door and sank into a chair in the hall. The girl wasn’t okay. She was in pain. He took a couple of deep breaths, knowing the knot in his gut wasn’t going to go away for a while. He was so angry with himself. It was a neighborhood with children. He should’ve been more careful. He should have—

He heard them before he saw them. Loud voices. Angry voices. Could only belong to Wiznowskis. It was the twins. There was no mistaking them. Colorful and flashy were their trademarks. He never could tell them apart, so he’d stopped trying.

One had on at least three-inch red clogs with a short skirt and a tank top. The other had on orange high heels, shorts and a gypsy-type blouse. Both wore necklaces, bracelets and earrings that jangled when they walked. Their hair color seemed to change weekly. Today one was a blonde with a bluish tint. The one in shorts had black hair with orangey highlights.

“She’s going to be pissed,” the one in the shorts said.

“So? I can be pissed, too,” the other replied.

“AnaMarie said we should respect her wishes.”

The blond-haired one laughed. “Since when do we listen to AnaMarie? She’s an old fart.”

“She’s two years older than us.”

“Do you have to argue about everything?”

“It’s not me. It’s you.”

“Yeah, right.”

They both stopped when they saw him. The one with the black hair stepped closer. “What are you still doing here? Haven’t you done enough?”

He got to his feet, really not in the mood for another round with the Wiznowskis. “Making sure everyone is okay.”

The blonde’s eyes narrowed. “Does Angie know you’re out here?”

“No.”

“Then you’d better leave.”

He glanced from one to the other. “You know, I can never tell you two apart, so you’ll have to introduce yourselves. I’d really like to know who I’m talking to.”

“I’m Mary Patricia—Patsy,” the black-haired one said.

“And I’m Mary Margaret, but everyone calls me Peggy.”

“Well, Peggy, I’m not going anywhere until that little girl is better.”

Peggy jammed a finger into her chest. “We’ll take care of Erin. We’ve always helped Angie with our little angel. Your presence here only complicates things. Get my drift?”

“Not really. Your sister asked for some time alone with her daughter.”

“Ah.” Patsy waved a hand at him. “She was just upset. She needs us like she did when that bastard left her.”

“Don’t you think someone should call the little girl’s father?” Angie had been very evasive when he’d asked about him, but if it were his kid, he’d want to know. He was sure the man felt the same way.

Patsy got into his face. “I think you’re sticking your nose in where it doesn’t belong.”

“We can discuss this all day and all night, but my position is not changing.”

Angie stepped into the hall, interrupting the heated conversation. “What are y’all doing here? I could hear you in the room.”

Patsy approached her sister. “Don’t go all mama bear on us. You didn’t really think we’d leave, did you?” She held up a bag. “We went to get you something to eat.”

“Thanks, but I’m not hungry.”

Peggy hugged Angie. “How’s Erin?”

“She woke up for a second and said her head hurt. I called a nurse, and they’re bringing her something. She’s really confused right now, I think—the fewer people she sees, the better it is for her.”

“Come on, Angie. We’re her aunties,” Patsy said. “Let us just see her for a second so we can sleep tonight.”

Angie held up one finger. “One minute. Visiting hours are over. You have to make it quick, and please do not wake her.”

Patsy and Peggy hurried inside the room. That left him and Angie staring at each other. The same old message flashed in her eyes, and it didn’t take her long to say it. “Why are you still here?”

Her voice was tired and a little sad. He felt guilty for upsetting her more than he already had.

Patsy and Peggy came out, wiping tears from their eyes.

“She’s so pale.” Peggy grabbed a tissue out of her huge purse.

Angie visibly swallowed. “Yes. She’s had a horrific afternoon and...”

Angie stopped speaking as AnaMarie came toward them with a small suitcase in her hand.

“Well, if it isn’t Ms. Old Fart,” Patsy quipped. “I thought we were supposed to respect Angie’s wishes.”

“I should have known you two wouldn’t listen.”

AnaMarie and Hardy were the same age and in the same class in school. He liked her. She always had a lot of common sense, but she was very quiet and shy. Angie was like that, too.

AnaMarie and her mother, along with the grandmother, ran a bakery. Hardy used to go in there a lot, as did everyone in Horseshoe. When Angie had come back from Temple, he’d heard, she’d taken over the business end. She had an office inside the shop, so he didn’t go in as much to avoid seeing her. Their encounters were stilted and awkward, and he never knew what to say to her. He just had an enormous guilt that he couldn’t shake.

The bakery was the busiest place in town, and people came from all over to sample the kolaches, pies, cakes, cookies and every other imaginable sweet. The shop had been in the same family for as long as Hardy could remember. The Wiznowskis were well-known in Horseshoe. Bubba owed a gas station and wrecker service. Willard had a blacksmith shop and the twins operated a beauty shop that was called Talk of the Town. It was aptly named, as most rumors were started there. Angie also took care of their books and did taxes for just about everyone in Horseshoe.

“I brought you a change of clothes, toiletries and something to sleep in,” AnaMarie said. “I’m prepared to stay, too. You need someone here.”

“Thanks.” Angie took the suitcase from her. “But no. You have to open the bakery in the morning and I’m fine because Erin’s going to be okay.”

“Tomorrow is Sunday, and we’re not open on Sunday,” AnaMarie reminded her.

“I’m sorry.” Angie touched her forehead. “I’m a little rattled.”

“That’s understandable. How’s Erin?”

“She’s a little restless, but the surgery went well.”

Footfalls sounded again on the tiled floor, and they looked up to see Willard and Doris walking toward them.

“I had to come back,” Doris said as she reached Angie. She gave Hardy a sharp glance but didn’t say anything. “I can’t rest until I know my granddaughter’s okay.”

“I tried, Angie,” her father said. “But I was worried, too.”

Angie hugged her parents. “Erin’s going to be fine. You can see her for a minute.”

No one said a word until they came out of the room. Doris dabbed at her eyes with a tissue. “My poor baby. Angie, I’ll stay the night so someone is here with you.”

“No, Mama. Everyone needs to go home. I can take care of Erin.”

“I called Dale and Dorothy and told them what happened, and they send their love and prayers.”

“Thank you, Mama.”

A nurse came down the hall with a syringe in her hand. She glared at everyone. “Visiting hours are over. Y’all will have to leave.”

“They’re going,” Angie replied. She followed the nurse into the room.

The family walked off without a backward glance, and Hardy thought that was just as well. Enough had been said today. He stretched his tired shoulders and moved down the hall so the nurse wouldn’t see him. When the nurse came out of Erin’s room, Hardy slipped in.

“Hardy.” Angie sighed. “You have to leave.”

He stared at the girl in the bed. Her skin was as white as the sheet. He wondered if she was really okay. Maybe that was why he couldn’t leave. His shoulders drooped with fatigue.

He glanced at Angie’s worried face. “You have to call her father. He needs to know his child is hurt, no matter what your relationship is with him.”

“I told you, it’s none of your business.” The smile in her voice was gone, replaced by the same fatigue he was feeling.

“Patsy said he left you, but...”

Angie leaned down and kissed her daughter, then walked into the hall, making sure the door was slightly opened. She sat in one of the chairs. “Okay. If you want to have this conversation now, let’s have it.”

He sat beside her, his elbows on his knees and his hands clasped together. “I’m not upsetting you on purpose.”

“It feels like it.”

The hall was dimly lit, and the only sounds were the beeps of a machine and murmurs coming from the nurse’s station. He wished he could articulate what he was feeling, but he was having a hard time explaining it to himself.

“I’m really sorry about today, Angie. I’d give my life for it not to have happened. I should have been more careful. I should have—”

“Do you believe that things happen for a reason?”

He was taken aback for a moment. “I suppose. I’ve never really thought about it.”

Angie wore shorts and she rubbed her hands down her bare thighs. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from the nervous action, trying not to remember the touch of her silky skin against his.

“What does this have to do with your ex-husband?”

“Nothing. It has everything to do with you.”

“I get I’m being a little pushy, but I injured the man’s child and I’d like to apologize. I’d like to do something.”

“Dennis is not part of our lives and he wouldn’t appreciate your apology or your gesture.”

“I don’t get that. He has a daughter.”

She moved restlessly. “I could say again that it doesn’t concern you, but I’m tired and weary of carrying a load so heavy it has finally brought me to my knees.”