The Baby Bet: His Secret Son. Joan Elliott Pickart

peacefully. His doctors are very optimistic about his surviving the heart attack and are conferring as to what tests to run and when.”

      “Thank God,” Andrew said, his voice husky. “Oh, man, what a relief. I can’t begin to tell you how…well, I can only hope you know that I’m grateful that he’s going to be all right. You believe me, don’t you?”

      “Yes. Yes, Andrew, I believe you. I’m aware of how distressed you were about what happened. Uncle Robert has a long way to go here, but things certainly look brighter than they did last night.” Kara paused. “Where…where are you, Andrew?”

      “I managed to get a hotel room.”

      “Oh, I see. Well, that’s good. You got some sleep, then?”

      Yes, and dreamed about you, Andrew thought.

      “I slept,” he said. “Did you?”

      A warm flush stained Kara’s cheeks as she remembered the dreams she’d had of Andrew.

      “Oh, yes, I was snug as a bug in the residents’ room. I’m as good as new.”

      “I’m glad to hear that. Listen, I’m going to have something to eat, then come over to the hospital. I’ll stay in the shadows, keep out of your family’s way, but I’m not going back to Santa Maria until I know what the tests show about Robert’s condition. I’d like to see you while I’m there.”

      “I…well, yes, of course, you’ll want to be kept up to date on Uncle Robert’s condition. Just so you know, I’ll be checking on my patients who are here, doing my rounds. I’ll watch for you…in the shadows.”

      “Kara, being kept apprised of Robert’s condition isn’t the only reason I want to see you. You know that, don’t you?”

      “I…”

      “Don’t you?”

      “Yes, Andrew, I know that.”

      “Good. Until later, then. Goodbye.”

      “Goodbye,” Kara said softly, then replaced the receiver slowly.

      “You were talking to Andrew Malone?”

      Kara spun around to see her brother, Richard, frowning at her.

      “Yes, Richard, I was,” she said. “He called to check on Uncle Robert. He’s been extremely concerned that—”

      “That we’ll sue the pants off him probably,” Richard said. “Some fancy lawyer would no doubt find a way to file a suit of some kind against Malone for what he did to Uncle Robert.”

      “Richard, Andrew is sincerely sorry for what happened at that party.”

      “Andrew? It’s Andrew now? Jeez, Kara, how can you be so cozy with the guy? He nearly killed our uncle, for crying out loud.”

      “Richard, that’s not fair. It wasn’t Andrew’s intention to hurt Uncle Robert. Andrew simply wanted…” Kara paused. “Well, I don’t know exactly what the purpose of that confrontation was, but it certainly wasn’t to cause Uncle Robert any physical harm.”

      “You’re defending what Malone did?” Richard said, his frown deepening. “Are you aware that reporters were at that party? Have you seen the newspapers? They’re having a field day with this. The secret son of highly respected, powerful and wealthy Robert MacAllister crashes family party and…That’s just an example of what is in the papers. The press have picked up Malone’s lie and are running with it.”

      “Richard, what Andrew said is true. He is Uncle Robert’s son. When you look at Andrew up close, you can see the same MacAllister eyes that all of you have. His features, too, are Uncle Robert’s. There’s no denying the truth, and you’re going to have to accept it.”

      “Just how ‘up close’ to Malone have you been, little sister?” Richard said, folding his arms over his chest. “If that guy is making a move on you, there is going to be hell to pay, believe me. He better stay away from you, or he’ll hear from me—personally.”

      “Oh, Richard, stop it,” Kara said. “I’m not sixteen years old anymore. I don’t need you and Jack defending me against everyone walking around in a pair of pants. I’m all grown up, remember?”

      “Okay, you’re all grown up,” Richard said, nodding. “So, all-grown-up sister, where is your family loyalty? You’re standing there pleading Andrew’s case, saying he didn’t mean to cause Uncle Robert any harm. What’s next? Guess who’s coming to dinner?”

      “Who served you a nasty pill for breakfast?”

      Kara turned to find Brenda Henderson glaring at Richard.

      “Hi, Brenda,” Kara said. “Are you here to collect Mr. Congeniality—I hope?”

      “Cute,” Richard said, glowering at Kara, then directing his attention to Brenda. “What are you doing here?”