Читать книгу Who's The Daddy? - Judy Christenberry, Judy Christenberry - Страница 6

“MEMORIAL HOSPITAL, on line one.”

James Adkins, one of the wealthiest men in Denver, reared back in his chair, ran a hand through his gray hair, slammed his bifocals onto the table and glared at his secretary. “I told you I was not to be disturbed.”

“Yes, sir, but it’s Caroline. She’s in the hospital.”

“That girl of mine is always running around getting involved in causes. Tell her we’ll discuss it over dinner.” He turned away, assurance in every ounce of him that he’d be obeyed. After all, he always was.

“Sir,” the secretary persisted, desperation in her voice, “she’s there as a patient.”

He turned to stare at her, his frown of impatience turning to deeper emotion. “What? That’s ridiculous. I saw her this morning.”

“There was an accident,” the secretary said quickly.

James Adkins moved faster than one would have expected from his less than sleek figure, overweight from rich foods and no exercise. He grabbed the phone and barked into it. “Who’s speaking?”

The two men with whom he’d been meeting both stood and moved closer to the phone.

“She’s what?” Adkins shrieked, and then listened again. “Yes, yes, I’ll be right there! Yes, I’ll bring her mother.” He slammed down the receiver and looked at the two younger men, for the first time unsure of his actions.

“Caroline’s been in an accident. And…and she’s got amnesia.”

“Is she all right?” one of them asked.

“I just told you she has amnesia!” James snapped.

“But the accident— Is she hurt?”

“No, only bruised. Prescott, go to another phone and tell Lewis to bring the limo around. Adrian, you call Tucker and tell him he’ll have to wait on my decision. I’ve got to call her mother and Chelsea.”

As was their custom, the two men jumped to do his bidding. He growled to his secretary, “Find my wife. I believe she’s attending the symphony auxiliary this morning. I’ll try to reach my younger daughter.”

The woman scurried from the room, as if grateful to have escaped.

“Chelsea? This is your father. Are you dressed?”

“Hi, Daddy. No, I’m still resting. Expectant mothers should get lots of rest, you know. Roddy agrees with me.”

“I’m coming to pick you up. Your sister’s been in an accident. She’s not badly hurt, but she’s lost her memory. The doctor thinks familiar faces will bring it back.”

“But Daddy, why do I have to go? Pregnant mothers shouldn’t get upset or go to hospitals. They have germs there.”

“Chelsea, you have ten minutes to get ready. Don’t keep me waiting,” he warned in ominous tones.

“Your wife is on line two, sir,” the secretary said softly from the door.

James nodded and told his daughter goodbye in the midst of another protest.

“Amelia? Caroline’s okay but she’s been in an accident.”

“Oh, dear. But she’s all right?”

He breathed a sigh of relief. Amelia might not be the perfect mother, but she loved her children. “Yes, well, she’s lost her memory. It’s temporary, of course, but—”

“Her memory? You mean she doesn’t remember who she is? That’s horrible. Why—why, she might think she’s some—some common woman, not—”

“Amelia! We’ll be there to pick you up in five minutes.”

“Pick me up?” she asked in puzzled tones.

“Yes, the doctor said you should come. It might help Caroline’s memory come back.”

“But—but I’m in the middle of my meeting. Couldn’t I come when I’m free? After all, I’m sure—”

“Five minutes, Amelia. I’ll come in and drag you out if you’re not waiting.”

“James!” Amelia squealed as he hung up the phone.

Damn females! They drove him crazy. First Caroline with her independence, then Amelia with her social life. And he didn’t know what to do about Chelsea.

He rushed out the door, hearing his secretary murmur, as he passed her, that the limo was waiting downstairs. Of course it was. The driver was a man and always did exactly what he was supposed to do. It was only females—three particular females—who gave James any difficulty.

When he reached the front door, he found both men who’d been in his office standing in front of the limo arguing.

“What’s going on?”

“I think I should come with you, James. After all, Caroline and I have been seeing quite a bit of each other, and I might be able to help,” Prescott Brownlee said at once.

“She was with me last night, at the opera ball,” Adrian Meadows inserted, stepping closer to his boss. “Since we were just together, she might remember me more. Besides, James, you may need some help with details.”

“Fine, both of you can come. I want her memory restored as soon as possible. I won’t tolerate anything less. She’s been acting strange lately. It’s time for things to get back to normal around here. You hear me?”

Both men nodded and stood at attention as he got into the limo, neither daring to suggest that some things might be beyond James Adkins’s control. They weren’t sure anything was. Then they quickly scrambled after him, each one trying to enter first.

As the limo pulled out into traffic, James clenched his hands into fists. “If either one of you had convinced Caroline to marry him, she’d be home having a baby, like Chelsea, instead of running around having accidents!”

Both men protested their innocence, each assuring James he’d done everything in his power to court Caroline.

“Last night she really enjoyed herself,” Adrian added, shooting a smug look at Prescott. “We danced all evening.”

“Did you ask her?”

All three men knew what James was referring to. Adrian met neither of the others’ gazes. “No. Uh, the time didn’t seem right. But I’m sure she’ll accept when I do.”

Prescott snorted in derision, a knowing look in his eyes. James ignored both of them. “She’ll make up her mind soon. I’ve sensed a readiness to settle down. We’ll get her memory back, and then she’ll marry one of you.”

Neither of them argued with him. But then they never did.

“COME ON, MAX, give us a break. You’ve driven the entire crew like they were dogs the past few weeks. And they’ve done a good job. Let’s give them tomorrow off, let’m have a four-day weekend for Labor Day.”

Max Daniels pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes briefly. His foreman, Jim Swensen, hadn’t lied. He’d been a bear to work for, and he knew it. “Okay. That’s a good idea, Jim. Give’m Friday off.”

Jim slapped him on his shoulder. “Great. The guys’ll be glad to hear it.” He paused and Max tensed for what would come next.

“You still don’t want to talk about what’s buggin’ you?”

He offered a brief smile to compensate for his negative answer. “No. But thanks for the offer. I’ll see you on Tuesday.”

“All right, man, but if you need to talk—”

“I’ll know where to find you. Thanks, Jim.”

Max watched as his foreman, also his best friend, headed toward the group of workers putting away their tools.

Slamming the truck in reverse, he backed out of the makeshift driveway, wanting to get away before any of the men came over to thank him for the extra holiday.

He knew he didn’t deserve their thanks. He’d been impossible to work with for two months. No question. But he couldn’t explain to them that he’d fallen in love and been abandoned by the woman with no explanation, no goodbye. One minute, bliss, the next, hell. And he was afraid that he’d demanded company in his personal hell, from everyone around him.

Man, he had to get a grip on himself. He’d never thought a woman would send him into such a tailspin. He still didn’t understand why. She was beautiful, but he’d dated women more beautiful. She was intelligent, charming, but no more so than others. Her sense of humor delighted him, making him eager to share the events of his day with her, waiting to hear her warm chuckles. Her kisses—

A blaring horn reminded him the light had turned green and he stepped on the accelerator. Just as well. No sense following that line of thought.

He reached for the radio, seeking distraction. It was five after five and the national news had just ended.

“Now, in local news, Caroline Adkins, daughter of—”

Max almost drove off the road. Horns blared around him and the woman behind him sailed past, shaking an angry fist.

He pulled to a stop, reaching for the volume knob.

“…in an accident. A Memorial Hospital spokesman said she will be kept overnight for observation.”

Without considering the consequences, he swung the truck back on the road and did an illegal U-turn at the next intersection. In two minutes, he was pulling into the parking lot at Memorial Hospital.

Please, God, let her be all right.

And if she was, he was going to break her neck for running out on the best thing that had ever happened to him.

“DID CAROLINE ASK to see me?” Amelia asked as the limo pulled into the hospital parking lot.

James sighed with impatience. “I told you, Amelia, she’s lost her memory.”

“Yes, dear, but if she didn’t ask for me, I don’t see why I couldn’t have come after my meeting ended. Agnes told me I shouldn’t always do whatever you say, you know.”

James and his second daughter, Chelsea, groaned together. “That woman,” James said through gritted teeth, “never agrees with me.”

“Well, I know Caro didn’t ask to see me,” Chelsea said before her mother could respond. Her lips formed into a pout that seemed natural. “She never even calls me. You would think, now that she’s to be an aunt, that she would show some interest in my baby.”

“She told me last night how excited she was about your baby,” Adrian assured Chelsea hurriedly, as if hoping to stem her complaints.

“Really? Well, she should spend more time with me, then,” Chelsea said.

The limo pulled to a stop, and the chauffeur opened the door. All three men hurried out and then turned to help the two women.

“I think we should tell the doctor that I’m pregnant before I go into Caro’s room, in case there could be any danger,” Chelsea continued as they approached the front doors.

“Amnesia isn’t contagious!” James snapped. He’d silently endured the complaints of both women for the length of the ride, but he was anxious for word of Caroline.

He would admit, though not to Amelia and Chelsea, that Caroline was his favorite. Not that they didn’t fight. On the contrary, Caroline argued with him at every turn. She was too much like him not to.

Chelsea was like her mother.

“Chelsea!” someone called, and they all halted.

Chelsea’s husband, Roderick Grant III, hurried up to them.

“What are you doing here?” James demanded. He didn’t have anything against the boy, but Roddy wouldn’t be of much help in a crisis.

“Daddy! Roddy’s my husband!”

“I know that. I paid for that damned wedding, didn’t I?” He muttered an apology when Chelsea and Amelia stared at him in shock. “I’m worried about Caroline,” he added.

“Of course, you are, sir,” Adrian said, patting him on the shoulder.

“Why don’t we go right up,” Prescott added. “I’ll find out her room number.”

“I know it. It’s 482,” James snapped, and strode for the elevators, leaving his entourage to hurry after him.

When they reached the fourth floor, the nurse on duty ushered all of them into the waiting room. “The doctor is with her now. I’ll let you know when you can go in.”

“Damn it, woman, I’m James Adkins. You go tell that doctor I want to see my child at once!” As the nurse calmly walked away, he bellowed, “Why won’t any woman listen to me?

“CAROLINE ADKINS, where can I find her?” Max had no idea how he’d gotten from the road outside the site to the hospital information desk.

“Is she a patient, sir?” the grandmotherly lady in a pink pinafore asked, smiling benignly at him.

“She was in an accident. They said they’re holding her for observation.”

“How would you spell that last name?”

Quelling the urge to grab the little old lady by the daintily tied bow at her neck, he spelled Caroline’s name.

“She’s on the fourth floor. Room 482.”

Max was running for the elevator before the lady ever finished talking. After stepping into the first one available, he jammed the close door button after punching the number four.

He’d find Caroline—and this time she wasn’t going to get away. Not until he had an explanation.

As soon as he got out of the elevator, he halted a nurse pushing a trolly of trays.

“Which way to 482?” he demanded.

“Just down the hall, sir.”

With a hurried thank-you, he followed her direction and spotted the room up ahead of him. He pushed past a small group of people and reached the door.

“Just one minute!”

He looked over his shoulder to see a large man in both height and girth staring at him. “Yes?”

“Where are you going?”

“What business is it of yours?” he demanded.

“That’s my daughter’s room.”

Max checked to see if he had the right room number. He did. “The desk said this was Caroline Adkins’s room. I think you’ve made a mistake.” He was sure Caroline didn’t have anyone close by, much less a mob of people.

“I don’t make mistakes!”

Max shrugged his shoulders and pushed open the door.

The man grabbed his arm before he could take more than a step into the room. “Who are you and why are you visiting my daughter? Are you the one who hit her?”

“I’m not visiting your daughter. I’m visiting Caroline Adkins,” Max explained impatiently. “If this isn’t her room—”

“Why would we come here if it’s not Caroline’s room?” Amelia asked plaintively.

“Sir, I think you’re making a mistake,” a younger man in an elegant business suit said, and Max glared at him. The young lady in the group began complaining about feeling faint. A man quickly supported her, and Max turned back toward the room only to find himself confronted by a man in a white coat.

“What is going on here?” he asked with quiet authority.

“I’m here to visit Caroline Adkins,” Max explained.

Immediately behind him, several voices both protested his visit and demanded information about Caroline. What was wrong with these people? Max couldn’t figure out why they were there. As far as he knew, Caroline had just moved to the area and had no one nearby.

“Quiet,” the doctor commanded. The one word quelled even the older man who’d been protesting his presence, Max noted.

“You may all see Caroline, but she has a headache. Please keep quiet and don’t ask her any questions.”

Max frowned. He could wait for his questions to be answered, as long as he didn’t lose her again. He couldn’t lose her again.

THE SUDDEN NOISE at the door of her room had increased the pain in her head. The nurse touched her shoulder and smiled, silently encouraging her to relax.

Oh, sure. It was easy for the nurse. She hadn’t lost her memory. She knew her name. And if she forgot, it was right there on her name tag.

The doctor had told her her name was Caroline. But there was no sense of recognition, no satisfaction. Just confusion. And, as much as she fought it, panic.

All she knew was what she’d been told since she’d awakened in the hospital. There’d been a wreck, a hit and run, and she’d smacked her head on the windshield even though she’d worn her seat belt. Her purse had been beside her, giving the doctor her name. He said he’d called her family.

If her family was making all the noise, she wasn’t sure she wanted to see them. At least not yet.

Suddenly her bed was surrounded by people.

People.

But no one she knew.

She hadn’t realized how much she’d hoped she would recognize her family when they arrived until that moment. You’d think she could at least recall her parents. Even though she could identify the two likeliest suspects by their age, her mouth went dry at the blankness that filled her.

Her gaze shifted to the first one who’d entered, seeking a distraction. He was somehow different from the rest of them. Rugged. And very attractive. I don’t know who I am, but at least I know what I like.

She hurriedly looked away as a horrible thought struck her.

What if he was her brother?

The older man stepped forward and picked up her hand.

“Caroline, are you okay?”

She said faintly, “Yes, I’m fine.”

As if he didn’t believe her, he looked at the doctor.

“Are you Mr. Adkins?” the doctor asked. “Yes.”

“I’m Dr. Johansen. Your daughter is in good condition, considering the accident.”

“Fine, fine. When can I take her home?”

She couldn’t help the panicked gaze she sent to the doctor. These people were all strangers. She didn’t want to go with them.

Before the doctor could answer, the older lady pushed through the crowd to the side of the bed. “You’re fine, aren’t you, Caroline? I know you wouldn’t have asked me to leave my meeting. I told your father that, and Agnes agreed.”

The younger woman groaned. “Mother, do you have to repeat everything Agnes says? Besides, I’m the one who shouldn’t have come. After all, I’m expecting.”

Caroline frowned. The young lady announced her condition as if she were the first pregnant woman in the world. As her lips quirked slightly, Caroline discovered something new about herself. She had a sense of humor. Thank goodness. I’d hate to live with these people and not know how to laugh.

She looked at the four men who hadn’t spoken. Three of them were in expensive business suits. The other man, the one who’d first caught her attention, was dressed in jeans and a short sleeved shirt. He was slightly taller than the others, and his muscled figure was bronzed from the sun.

He opened his mouth, as if to speak, when the doctor said, “I understand how much you’d like to take her home at once, but, in her condition, I think we should keep her overnight for observation.”

“I thought you said she was okay,” the man in blue jeans snapped. Caroline liked the anxious look he sent the doctor.

“She is. But with the baby—”

“Oh, that’s all right. I don’t live at home anymore. She won’t bother me,” the young woman told the doctor with a superior air. “My husband and I have our own home, quite lovely, just a few blocks away from Daddy.”

Dr. Johansen looked nonplussed, the first time he’d been stumped since Caroline met him after she’d awakened. Finally he said, “I think you misunderstood me. I wasn’t referring to your baby, young lady, but Caroline’s. She’s pregnant.”

In the silence that followed his explanation, Caroline moved her hand to her stomach, unable to believe the doctor’s words. Pregnant? She couldn’t be. Could she? Oh, dear, what had she gotten herself into?

And with whom?

A look at the shocked faces around her told her that no one else had known.

Then the young woman whimpered. “I should’ve known. I should’ve known you’d go out and get pregnant just to spite me. You always think you have to be better than me!” She broke into sobs, burying her face in the suit jacket of one of the younger men.

“Oh, no, dear, no. This is all my fault,” said the woman she supposed was her mother.

The man who claimed to be her father turned to stare at the woman. “What are you talking about, Amelia?”

Amelia? Her mother’s name was Amelia?

“I should never have asked Caroline to work in the unwed mother’s home. It’s my fault.”

“Amelia, pregnancy isn’t contagious, either!” the man ranted, his face turning red.

Caroline almost felt sorry for him. He seemed surrounded by some very strange people.

Dr. Johansen spoke again. “I apologize. I didn’t realize you didn’t know about the pregnancy. Of course, she’s only two months along, but usually—”

“Two months?” Mr. Blue Jeans asked sharply.

“Yes, but—”

“I demand to know who the father is,” the older man suddenly exclaimed, glaring at everyone in the room. In that tone of voice, Caroline was sure he was always obeyed.

She was right.

Three men stepped forward, each of them staring at her, and, in unison, as if rehearsed, said, “I am.”