Whirlwind Reunion. Debra Cowan

muscle flexed in his jaw as he slowly got to his feet. “I cared for you,” he ground out. “And our baby.”

      “Our baby!” She shook with outrage, disbelief. “You didn’t care enough even to acknowledge my letter about the miscarriage.”

      “You’re a fine one to point the finger.”

      “What’s that supposed to mean?” she asked hotly.

      “If you’d cared about me or what we had, you wouldn’t have lied about the baby.”

      “Lied? About what?” Incensed, she marched over to him. “You think I wasn’t expecting?”

      “No, I believe you were.”

      “Then what?” Her heart pounded hard in her chest.

      “I think you knew before you left Whirlwind that you were carrying my baby and in your letter you tried to make me believe you didn’t.”

      Her breath jammed painfully in her chest. “You think I knew and went to Philadelphia without telling you?”

      “Yes.”

      How could he believe such a thing? “Well, I didn’t know.”

      “You’re the daughter of a doctor.” He took an aggressive step toward her.

      She moved back, not out of fear, but from sheer reflex.

      “You helped your pa from the time you were ten, and you knew more than most about medical things. How could you not realize?”

      “I was distracted by my grief over my father’s death. If there were signs of a child at that time, I didn’t catch them.”

      The skeptical, scornful look on his face set off her temper.

      “You are a piece of work, Matt Baldwin! Why would I lie?”

      “Because if you’d admitted back then that you knew, you would’ve had to stay.” His voice rose, too. “You wouldn’t have been able to traipse halfway across the country, putting our baby at risk.”

      Pain and guilt knifed through her.

      “If you hadn’t been so all-fired set to get to medical school, our baby would be alive. You as good as killed him.”

      Before she even realized it, her hand flew up and she slapped him. Hard.

      He grabbed her wrist, his expression stunned.

      Tears blurred her vision. “How dare you.”

      Her hand print glowed red on his jaw. The blame was already carved into her heart, but coming from Matt, who had never even acknowledged their child? How could he have said something so cruel? Was there nothing left of the man she’d loved? If so, she couldn’t see it in those steel-cold eyes, the rigid jaw.

      She was shaking so hard her teeth chattered. Very quietly, she said, “Get out.”

      “You bet.” He released her with a curse.

      She registered the heavy thud of his boots on the floor, the slam of the door as her entire body went numb.

      He’d brought up the past and she hadn’t been able to keep her mouth shut. She wished she had because now she was forced to admit what she had denied for seven years. She’d never gotten over him.

      Chapter Four

      If you hadn’t been so all-fired set to get to medical school, our baby would be alive. You as good as killed him.

      Five days later, Matt’s words still razored through Annalise, a black poisonous cloud on an otherwise lovely Saturday. She wished she could push his words out of her head, push him out of her head, but she hadn’t been able to. So she’d done the only thing she could—she’d avoided him like he was a coiled rattler.

      Sunlight streamed through the front window of her clinic, warming the space of pine floor between her and the patient in his wheelchair. J.T. Baldwin had come in with Cora, wanting Annalise to examine his leg and determine why he was still unable to walk.

      “How’s the pain?” Annalise asked him.

      “Most days, it’s just an ache, but if I do too much—”

      “Or ride in the wagon for very long,” Cora put in.

      J.T. smiled at the older woman before turning to Annalise. “Then it hurts like the devil.”

      “Is the pain sharp or dull after you’ve exerted yourself?”

      “Sharp. It’s a good sign that I can feel something, right?”

      “It can be good, yes. In your case, I’m not sure. Because there are times when you can feel yet still aren’t able to make your leg move, I think you have a mass pressing on a nerve in your lower spine.”

      “Mass? Like a tumor?” he asked gruffly, apprehension on his craggy features. “Is it gonna kill me?”

      Cora reached over and took his hand.

      Annalise understood his concern. Matt and Russ’s mother had died from a tumor in her stomach when Russ was ten and Matt was nine. “I don’t believe it’s a cancerous tumor. You don’t exhibit other symptoms.”

      “So what do I do? Can you get it out of there?”

      “I can do surgery, but there are risks.”

      “Like what?”

      “Your right leg might be paralyzed for good. Both sides of your body might be. There’s also a chance it could kill you. Any operation is risky, especially one this tricky.” She shook her head. “And you should know that I’ve only assisted in this surgery, never performed it on my own.”

      “I trust you.”

      “I appreciate that, but you really need to think hard about having this operation. If you want, I can wire a doctor in Abilene and ask that he come to the ranch to give you another opinion.”

      “You and Dr. Butler have already given your opinions. I think two doctors hovering around me is plenty.” He winked to take the sting out of his words.

      “Are you advising against the surgery, Annalise?” Cora asked.

      “No. I just want J.T. to think about it. Both of you. And discuss it with Matt and Russ.”

      The older man frowned. “But you won’t, will ya? If they find out, I think I should be the one to tell them.”

      “Of course. I don’t discuss my patients with anyone. You decide who you tell and who you don’t, but I do think it’s a good idea.”

      “So what do you suggest for now?”

      “Give your recovery a little more time.” At the impatient look on his face, one that reminded her too much of his youngest son, she said, “I know you’re ready to walk again, but you can’t rush it. You might damage a nerve permanently. If your pain becomes worse and longer lasting, you need to tell me.”

      “Dr. Butler never found this lump,” he said quietly.

      “He’s been back east for a few months now with his wife’s family, hasn’t he?”

      “Yes.”

      “It may not have been there when he last examined you. Or it may have grown from a non-detectable size.”

      He nodded and Cora reached over to pat his arm. Annalise had been surprised to find that her friend and J.T. were courting, but they had a lot in common.

      “Any more questions?” Annalise asked.

      “Not right now,” J.T. answered.

      Cora rose and opened the clinic’s front door as the man rolled his wheelchair closer to Annalise and squeezed her hand.

      “I’m