One Night in Texas. Linda Warren

out without a glance at Hardy. She left him standing outside in the warm evening air. Pushing him to the back of her mind, she followed the stretcher.

      She waited to the side as they examined Erin, her stomach a tangled mass of jittery nerves. Her baby looked so pale on the E.R. table. A nurse slit the new bathing suit with a pair of scissors and removed it. The doctor did a quick examination, calling out orders for tests that went over Angie’s head. Her eyes were focused on her unconscious baby.

      An X-ray had been done quickly, and the doctor put it up on a screen. “She has a fractured femur, a possible concussion and we have to check for internal bleeding and rib fractures. Let’s get her up to the surgical ward. Notify Dr. Lawson and Dr. Robbins. Now.” The man in the blue scrubs turned to Angie. “Are you the mother?”

      Angie had to swallow twice before she could answer. “Yes.”

      “We’re taking her for tests and then to surgery. Her left leg is badly fractured and will require surgery. The surgeon will talk to you before he operates. You’ll have to sign papers.”

      “I need to be with her. She’ll want her mama when she wakes up.”

      The doctor gave her a compassionate look. “I understand that, but she’s not going to be awake for a long time.” The doctor looked over her shoulder and asked, “Are you the father?”

      Angie swung around to see Hardy standing there. Her pulse pounded in her ears as panic gripped her. She couldn’t handle this now. Before words could leave her throat, Hardy stepped forward.

      “I’m Hardy Hollister. The girl ran out in front of my truck and I hit her. Please do whatever you can to help her.”

      “We will.”

      Two nurses came in and pushed Erin’s bed toward the elevator. Angie was one step behind. She didn’t know why Hardy was still there. She wanted him to leave.

      A nurse pointed to a door. “You can wait in there. After the tests, the surgeon will talk to you.”

      “Thank you.” She took a deep breath and walked inside feeling empty, alone and scared out of her mind. Her baby had to be okay.

      Without even having to look, she knew Hardy was behind her. His presence was strong and undeniable. But she was strong, too. He’d made her that way.

      She faced him. “Would you please leave?”

      “I have to know that she’s okay.”

      “Wyatt will call you.”

      He shook his head. “I’m not leaving, Angie. You don’t need to be here alone.”

      Alone? Is he kidding?

      “My family is on the way. You’re just a stranger to me, and I don’t want you here.”

      His tanned skin paled. “I’m not a stranger.” Her words might have stung, but being an attorney he was used to brushing away barbs as no more than pesky flies. Just like he did women.

      As a teenager, Angie had been so naive and in love with the fantasy of Hardison Hollister: tall, handsome, older and a little mysterious. She used to dream about her friend’s brother. It had to be love, because she thought about him all the time.

      Suffering through the remnants of a hangover, she’d gained the courage to show him she was an adult. To maintain her sanity, she’d closed her mind to what had happened next.

      It was a mistake, he’d said. He was sorry, but she was his sister’s friend and she could never be anything else to him. So she’d taken her mangled pride and did the best she could with a broken heart. Even now when she saw him around town or with one of his many women, she’d have the oddest moments where she thought she still had those feelings for him. Maybe some fantasies never died.

      But she was older, mature and Hardy wasn’t going to mess with her mind again. She wanted him to leave so she could deal with her injured child. Later, she’d have to divulge her innermost secret. Not now, though.

      She looked him straight in the eye. “It was an accident. I don’t hold you responsible. Is that what you’re waiting to hear?”

      His eyebrows knotted together. “No. I’m genuinely concerned for her.”

      “Really? What’s her name?”

      “Uh...what?”

      “You’ve avoided me for two years. Let’s don’t change things now.”

      “You look at me as if I’m a leper or something. I can’t go back and change the past, but I’m not leaving this hospital until I know your daughter is out of surgery and doing well.”

      “I don’t want you here. Can’t you understand that?” Her control slipped a notch.

      His question, “Why?” blasted through her control with the force of a bullet, and it pierced through regions of her heart she’d kept safe. Safe from any emotions she might have had for him. Safe from admitting she was just as gullible as she’d ever been.

      * * *

      TWO DOCTORS IN scrubs and surgical caps walked into the room, preventing Angie from answering. Not that she had an answer she could share with him. She immediately went to the doctors.

      One looked down at the chart in his hand. “Ms. Wiznowski?”

      “Yes.”

      “I’m Dr. Lawson, and this is Dr. Robbins, a pediatric orthopedist.”

      They shook hands. “How’s my daughter?”

      Dr. Lawson looked over her shoulder, and Angie cringed. She knew what the doctor would ask next.

      “Are you the father?” he asked Hardy.

      Hardy stepped forward. “No. I hit her with my truck. She came out of nowhere.”

      The doctor nodded. “It’s commendable you’re taking responsibility.”

      “How is my daughter?” Angie didn’t know why the doctor was talking to Hardy. Erin was no concern of his. That wasn’t quite true, but she couldn’t admit that now.

      Dr. Lawson turned his attention to her. “Your daughter has taken quite a beating, but she’s young and has no life-threatening wounds.”

      Angie sagged with relief. “Thank God.”

      “But we do have some concerns. She has a bad cut on her head from hitting the pavement. We’ve used surgical tape to close it. She has two fractured ribs, but no internal bleeding. Our main concern is her leg. Dr. Robbins will discuss that with you. I just wanted to let you know she’s resting comfortably.”

      “Thank you. Can I see her?”

      “My surgical team is prepping her for surgery,” Dr. Robbins answered. “We need your permission to continue. The nurse will bring some papers in for you to sign.”

      “Okay. Her femur is broken?” she asked.

      “Yes. Severely, but I can operate and repair it. I’ll insert a lightweight titanium rod to stabilize the fracture.” He opened the file and drew as he talked. “It’s a new technique. I’ll make an incision on the top of her hip. Right about here.” He made a mark on the stick figure he’d drawn. “After I realign the bone, I’ll insert the rod through the center of the bone, which will then serve as an internal splint.”

      “Will she need a cast?”

      “No. We might put an immobilizer on her knee at first to prevent movement. These fractures take about six weeks to heal. In the meantime she’ll be on crutches so she can keep her weight off that leg. In a year, we’ll remove the rod.”

      “So the prognosis is good?”

      Dr. Robbins nodded. “Yes. I deal with a lot of femur fractures, and they heal beautifully, especially in young children. It just takes time.”

      Angie