Читать книгу The Doctor's Baby - Cindy Kirk, Cindy Kirk - Страница 10

When July was five her mother had shoved her against a wall so hard it pushed all the air from her lungs. She remembered that horrible, scary feeling. She felt the same way now.

But July was no stranger to having her life take an ugly turn. She forced herself to breathe normally. “I already told you he isn’t yours. Most men would be jumping for joy at that news.”

“I’m not most men.” His gaze never left her face. “If Adam is my son, I want to be a part of his life. I want him to know me. I want to be his dad.”

The sincerity in his tone touched the part of July’s heart that had once yearned for a father’s love. The part that had hoped her dad—whoever he was—would one day show up and rescue her from the misery that was her childhood.

But they weren’t talking about her. They were talking about Adam. And she wasn’t her mother. Her child would always have her love and support.

“July.” David’s voice, soft but insistent, broke through her reverie. “Will you consent to the test?”

She curbed her irritation at his persistence. Obviously he hadn’t thought this through. “First I’d like to ask you a question.”

“Sure.” He dropped into the chair next to the bed. “Ask me anything.”

“Why are you determined to go ahead with this? I’ve already told you—assured you—that Adam isn’t your son.” July kept her tone even, though she was shaking clear down to her bare toes. “If it’s done—for really no good reason—your wife will likely find out. Is that what you really want?”

She’d simply presented facts in a calm manner. Still, she waited for the explosion. Growing up, she’d learned what can happen when you questioned someone’s decision. But this time, all she got was a puzzled look.

“What are you talking about? I’m not married.”

July let out the breath she’d been holding. Oh, he was good. If she didn’t know the truth, she’d find his protest completely believable. While he may have fooled her once, it wasn’t going to happen again.

“There’s no need to continue with the game.” Again, July kept her anger at being deceived under tight wraps and spoke in a matter-of-fact tone. “Remember the doctor who stopped by the table the night we first met? The one my reporter friend knew?”

David’s gaze turned thoughtful. He nodded. “Kevin Countryman.”

“That’s the one. Well, my friend ran into him a couple months later.” When July discovered she was pregnant, she’d called hospitals in Minneapolis and in Chicago looking for Dr. David Wall. Of course, because of spelling his name wrong, she’d never found him. Then she’d remembered Dr. Countryman. She’d asked her friend to contact him in the hopes he’d know where to find David.

“And—” David prompted.

“During the course of their conversation he mentioned you were married.” July had been overwhelmed with a deep sense of betrayal. That same day she’d abandoned her search.

“Wait a minute. You’ve got it all wr—”

“He said your wife was gorgeous, like a model. He told my friend he’d been surprised to see you flirting with … me.” The words had been a knife to her heart. Saying them brought the pain flooding back. Okay, so maybe she wasn’t America’s Next Top Model, but she’d been told many, many times that she was “cute” and had beautiful eyes.

“July. Listen to me.”

“All I’m asking is that you think of your wife’s feelings.” She maintained an even tone. Goodness knows, she’d had a lifetime of practice. “I want you to realize that if news of the DNA test gets out, she will be hurt by the scandal. And all for nothing because Adam is not your son.”

Some of the light in his eyes dimmed at her words. It was almost as if he wanted Adam to be his. Which was insane. What married man would welcome a baby from a one-night stand?

“We need to clear one thing up right now,” David said in a firm voice. “I. Am. Not. Married.”

When she opened her mouth to protest, he held up a hand.

“Please let me finish. I was married but my wife died the year before you and I met.” His gaze met hers. “I’d never have slept with you if I’d been married. For Celeste and me, those marriage vows were sacred.”

July’s head spun like an out-of-control Tilt-A-Whirl while her mind wrapped itself around the words. Everything from David’s posture to his facial expression to his intonation said he was telling the truth. But yet she had a reliable third party with no stakes in the matter who said differently. “Dr. Countryman knew you,” she finally managed to sputter. “How could he not have known your wife had died?”

“I knew Kevin back in residency.” David’s eyes never left hers. “It’s been a long time since I’ve spoken to him. Celeste must have been still alive the last time we talked.”

“I don’t know. That seems—”

“You still don’t believe me.” David rose and paced the room, frustration written all over his face. “Ask anyone. Ask Lexi or Dr. Fisher. They’ll confirm that what I’ve told you is true.”

A cold chill stole over July. Relief that she hadn’t slept with a married man was miniscule compared to the stark realization that the tables had turned. She was now the one who needed to apologize. She’d told David to his face that Adam wasn’t his son. Not just once. Many times.

Tell him you’re sorry. Tell him you made a mistake. He’ll understand. You thought he was married.

July opened her mouth but the words wouldn’t come. Her heart pounded hard and fast in her head, making it impossible for her to think, much less form a coherent sentence.

“July.” David’s voice, soft but insistent, broke through the maelstrom in her head. “Will you consent to the test?”

She tried to speak but settled for a jerky nod.

“The test is easy.” Though his tone was professional, she could hear the undercurrent of excitement and relief in his voice. “A simple buccal swab. One to Adam’s cheek, one to yours.”

“Mine?” Her voice broke on the word.

“It’s recommended,” he said quickly. “But if you don’t want—”

“No problem.” July took a glass of water from the tray table and chugged it past her dry throat. “Just give me a call when—”

“We can do it now.” He pulled two vials from his pocket along with an official-looking paper. “But first I need your signature.”

The room closed around her neck like a noose. She took the paper from his hand and sweat trickled down her back. “Once we do this, how long before you get the results?”

“Three to five days.”

The noose tightened.

July pretended to study the consent form but the words blurred. After a moment, she folded the paper in half and dropped it into her purse.

“What are you doing?” Confusion blanketed his face. “You said you’d do it.”

Though her heart now beat like a trapped butterfly in her chest, she somehow managed a nonchalant air. “I’m sure you understand wanting to read a legal document. I’ll be in Jackson Hole for at least another month. We’ll definitely do the test before I leave.”

“Why wait so long?” His brows pulled together. “It doesn’t take a month to read the authorization.”

“Because I know what the answer will be, and I’m in no hurry.” Because I need to tell you the truth before you get the results.

“But you’ll have it done before you leave.”

“Absolutely.” July wished she could bring herself to tell him the test wasn’t needed. After all, he was the only one she’d been with in over three years. But every time she tried to bring the words forth, tentacles of fear slipped around her, squeezing out the air.

She would tell David. In her own time. In her own way. But it had to be soon. Before the DNA test. Before he became even more suspicious. Before he found out the truth on his own….

David left July’s room, feeling more unsettled than when he’d walked through the door. Last night, while tossing and turning in bed, he’d considered his options. He could take July at her word that Adam wasn’t his son. But if she was lying, once she left Jackson Hole she’d be taking his flesh-and-blood out of his life forever. Or he could be proactive and find out for sure if that baby in the nursery was his.

He’d told himself her response to his request for a DNA test would reveal the truth. If she refused, it’d confirm his suspicions that she was lying. But she hadn’t refused. At least not directly.

“Can I help you, doctor?”

David looked into the eyes of Rachel Milligan, the emergency room nurse who’d been at July’s side during the delivery. He glanced around the nursery. “What are you doing here? This isn’t the E.R.”

“Very perceptive.” Rachel smiled. “It was slow downstairs so they sent me up here to help out.”

He didn’t know Rachel all that well—she’d only started in the E.R. several months ago—but like everyone in Jackson Hole, he knew of the tragedy that had rocked her world a couple of years earlier. Since she never mentioned the murder of her husband and death of her baby, he hadn’t felt comfortable bringing up the subject.

“What brings you to the nursery?”

David glanced around. He hadn’t consciously planned to make a detour to this part of the hospital but now that he was here he might as well assuage his curiosity. “I stopped by to check on the Greer baby.”

“Of course.” Rachel smiled and he suddenly realized with her honey-blond hair and big blue eyes she was quite pretty. But it didn’t matter. There was no sizzle. Not like there was with July….

While she was retrieving the baby, David scrubbed his hands and put on a gown, wondering why he insisted on tormenting himself. For all he knew this little boy was someone else’s son.

“Here he is.”

David held out his arms and Rachel placed the baby in them. Wrapped securely in a blue blanket and wearing a cap of the same color, the infant didn’t cry, just stared at him with serious eyes.

The rush of emotion took David by surprise as did the powerful connection he felt to this tiny baby. He tightened his arms protectively around the child he’d brought into the world barely twenty-four hours earlier. “He’s so light.”

“He’s small,” Rachel agreed, “but doing really well. Once we get his bilirubin down a bit more, he’ll be able to go home.”

Dave gazed at the tiny face, searching for a family resemblance. Other than the dark hair—now covered—the baby could belong to anyone.

“I only wish the Simpson baby was doing as well.” Although they were alone in this part of the nursery, Rachel spoke in a low tone. “It looks like she’ll have to go home with the feeding tube. Kayla started crying this morning when the doctor told her.”

David had grown up with Kayla Simpson and her husband. This long-awaited pregnancy had been trouble-free, but their little girl had been born with several congenital anomalies. “Has Lexi been up to talk with them?”

Since joining the hospital staff five years ago, the social worker had proven to be a valuable member of the hospital team.

“She’ll be here once she’s done in the ICU.” A look of sadness swept across the RN’s face. “She’s talking to the Evans family about organ donation.”

The six months David had spent at Hennepin in Minneapolis had made him appreciate just how different it was to practice emergency medicine at a large trauma center versus a community hospital like this one. Here, other than tourists, most of the people he treated were ones he knew. Tim Evans, a gregarious high school baseball coach, belonged to his church. The guy had taken a turn too fast on his cycle and had cracked his un-helmeted head on the concrete.

“A life ends.” David dropped his gaze to the baby and stroked the soft cheek with his finger. “Another begins.”

When he looked up and saw the pain in Rachel’s eyes he realized the simple observation had opened an old wound. But before he could say another word, Rachel’s expression cleared and she lifted a hand in greeting. “Here’s Lexi now.”

David shifted his gaze to the social worker. Her smile never wavered, but her eyes filled with curiosity at the sight of the blue bundle in his arms.

Resisting the urge to shove the baby back into Rachel’s care, he met the social worker’s smile with one of his own. “Rachel mentioned the Simpson baby is going home with a feeding tube,” he said in lieu of a greeting. “Sounds like Kayla is taking the news hard.”

“This has been such a shock for both of them,” Lexi said. “But Kayla is a strong woman. She and John will weather this crisis. I’ll make sure they have the support they need.”

David nodded then casually handed the baby back to Rachel. “I have to get going.”

Lexi took a step forward and peered at the baby. “Who’s this little guy?”

“This is Adam Greer,” Rachel explained. “Our emergency room baby.”

“I thought Dr. Watson was following him.”

“He is,” David said, trying not to get defensive. After all, it was a logical assumption. “I don’t get a chance to deliver many babies, so this one is sort of special.”

Lexi lifted a brow. “How’s he doing?”

“Jaundiced, but he should be able to be released in a day or so,” David said.

“I wonder where he’ll go home to,” Rachel mused.

“What do you mean?” Lexi asked.

David’s ears pricked up.

“His mother had been living in the motel across the street from the Community Playhouse before she delivered,” Rachel said. “Hardly a suitable environment for a baby.”

“I agree with you,” Lexi said. “I’ll add post-discharge housing to my discussion list. After I finish here, I’m headed to her room.”