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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 thought of the wonderful vacation they’d planned and how excited Erin was to see Disney World. Now they would be spending the summer at home, healing and trying to come to grips with what had happened.
“Can I see her, please?”
“She’s in a sterile area. You won’t be able to see her until after surgery.”
“If she wakes up and I’m not there, she’ll be so afraid.”
Dr. Robbins touched her shoulder in a reassuring gesture. “I promise you, you’ll be there when she wakes up.”
“Thank you. How long will this take?”
“Maybe an hour or so, depends how everything goes. I’ll come back and talk to you when it’s over.”
The doctors walked out, and she felt more alone than ever. But Erin was going to be okay.
She took a deep breath and turned to deal with Hardy. “Erin is going to be okay. You don’t need to feel guilty anymore.”
“I know your ex-husband isn’t part of your life anymore, but shouldn’t he be notified?” he asked as if it was his right to do so.
“That’s none of your business.”
“No matter what your relationship is, he has a right to know his child has been injured.”
She hated it when he took on his lawyer persona and kept probing until he got the answers he wanted. But he would be the last person she would tell about Dennis Green, her married-in-haste ex-husband.
“I’ll take care of it.”
“I’d like to try to explain. I need to explain.”
She also hated that honorable streak in him. Before he’d left for Europe, she’d seen him in town and they’d sat on a bench at the courthouse and talked for a few minutes. He had apologized once again for what had happened and wanted her to know how much he liked her and he wished her all the best in the future. Being young and incredibly naive, she’d wanted words of love and marriage.
When she’d found out she was pregnant, her first thought had been she had to tell him. But Hardy had been in Europe, and she’d had no way to get in touch with him. She’d kept praying Rachel would call and then she could talk to Hardy, but the call never came.
She had agonized over how to tell her mother—her very strict, religious mother. Patsy and Peggy, her twin sisters, were in Temple going to beauty school. She’d joined them there to attend Temple Junior College and take accounting courses. It had been her way to escape a confrontation with her mother and to escape the gossip, if only temporarily. Still, she couldn’t sleep or eat. She’d been a mess. Then she’d met sweet and kind Dennis, and her world had righted itself.
A nurse entered the room with some papers and a clipboard in her hand. She looked at Hardy. “Mr. Wiznowski?”
Angie wanted to scream with frustration. Why did they think Hardy had anything to do with Erin? Because he does. He is her father. He just didn’t know it.
The truth of that opened the blinds she’d firmly kept shut against such observations. Eighteen-year-old Angie had thought she could save her pride and spare her feelings from being shattered by walking away and raising her child alone. That had been foolish. Twenty-eight-year-old Angie could clearly see that. The blinds were wide-open and the outside world was creeping in slowly but surely. Her day of reckoning had arrived.
She had been six weeks pregnant when she’d heard that Judge Hollister, Hardy’s father, was back from Europe. He had been a judge in the small town for almost forty years. The thought of Hardy not knowing had bothered her, so she’d gone home early one Friday to talk to the judge in hopes that she could get Hardy’s number. Instead, he’d thought she wanted to talk to Rachel and made the call so they could visit. Looking back, she should’ve asked Rachel for the number. But Rachel had gone on and on about Paris, and the moment had slipped away.
Fear and guilt had kept her steady company. To ease her mind, she’d made the trip again. As before, the judge had thought she wanted to speak to Rachel and made the call. Rachel hadn’t answered, and it gave Angie a chance to ask the judge how Hardy was doing.
That was when she’d learned that he was engaged and planning a Christmas wedding. The man had been thrilled that Hardy had met the perfect woman for him. She would be an asset to his burgeoning political career.
Angie had been devastated, and Dennis had been there to console her. When he’d offered to marry her, she’d accepted. It had been a way out. She wouldn’t have to face her mother or the gossip. How weak she’d been. Goose bumps popped up on her arms and a chill ran through her. She’d made so many mistakes. The burden of them would always be with her.
Lost within herself, she hadn’t even noticed a nurse was talking to Hardy. That was typical. Women were drawn to him.
She cleared her throat. “Do you have papers for me to sign?”
“Oh.” The nurse thrust the clipboard at her. “Read and sign at all of the marked x’s.”
Angie sat in one of the chairs, read and signed the papers, very aware that Hardy was watching her.
Handing the clipboard back, she asked, “Do you know if they’ve started the surgery?”
The nurse shook her head. “I just deal with the paperwork.”
“Thank you.”
The nurse looked at Hardy, then walked out.
It wasn’t the time to shatter his world, and Angie didn’t know if she had the strength to tell him now. Or in the future. She had to keep her focus on Erin. But later, when Erin was better, she would pull the Band-Aid off her heart and open it up to whatever came next.
Just like years ago, it would take all the courage she had, even take a part of her stubborn pride, but it had to be done. Hardy had missed ten years of Erin’s life, and he would never forgive her for that. Somewhere in that maze of emotions, though, they had to find a way to get along—for their child.
Hardy eased into the chair next to her. A light, musky scent reached her, and she resisted the urge to move away. In jeans, boots and a pristine white shirt, he was as handsome as ever. In the old days, looking at his long legs and broad shoulders would send her heart soaring to the heavens faster than the speed of light. Now her heart was numb. Maybe because she was looking at him through the eyes of her conscience.
“I was talking to the nurse about Dr. Robbins. She said he’s a very good pediatric orthopedic surgeon, so you don’t have anything to worry about. Your daughter’s going to be fine. Maybe a little bruised, but fine.”
She looked into the dark blue eyes of the man she had loved deeply, or thought she had. Oddly, today she only saw a man she’d hurt. She swallowed. “Her name is Erin.”
“What? Oh. That’s pretty.”
God, she couldn’t believe he didn’t know Erin’s name. Suddenly ten years of keeping a secret felt like a boulder on her chest. How did she make this right? Could she make it right? There had to be an answer somewhere.
“I’ll pay for anything she needs,” he offered.
“I have good insurance.” She started to say it wasn’t any of his concern, and she began to think that maybe she was the one who’d received the bump on the head. Unexpectedly, she saw herself as a woman she didn’t like. A woman who kept secrets. A woman who’d lied.
Bile rose up in her throat.
“Are you okay?” He reached out to touch her and she jerked back.
“Don’t touch me.” If his skin touched hers, she would lose what little self-respect she still maintained. The memory of his skin against hers was still vivid after all these years. The warmth, the passion, would always be part of her because they’d created Erin. She could not remain strong when he was gentle and understanding.
Footfalls pounded against the tiled floor and the door flew open. The Wiznowski family charged in. The whole group grabbed her in a hug. Her legs buckled. The support of her family held her upright.
Over her sister’s shoulder she saw Hardy moving toward the door. Her mother noticed it, too.
“How could you hit our precious Erin? Were you drinking or on your phone?”
“No, ma’am.”
“Why weren’t you paying attention, then?”
“I was. She just came out of nowhere,” Hardy replied stiffly.
“She’s just a little girl.” Tears filled Doris’s eyes, and Angie hugged her mother.
“It was an accident, Mama. The doctor said Erin’s going to be okay. She just needs surgery on her leg and time to heal.”
“Thank God.”
“Is she in surgery?” Patsy asked.
“Yes.”
“So we wait.” Patsy sank into a chair, as did Peggy, AnaMarie, her other sister, and their dad, Willard. Doris kept staring at Hardy. Angie just wanted some peace and quiet and not to have to referee family squabbles.
Her brother Bubba entered the room, and, before anyone could stop him, he swung his right fist at Hardy, who staggered backward from the blow to his jaw. He didn’t go down, which was a feat, because Bubba was six foot two and weighed about three hundred pounds.
“Stop it,” she said, getting between the two men.
“He hurt Cupcake.” Bubba raised his fist again. “I’m gonna kill him.”
“Cupcake ran out in front of his truck,” Angie pointed out. “There is a difference.” Bubba had always called Erin Cupcake because he said she was so sweet.
“I don’t care. I’m still gonna hurt him.” Bubba made a move toward Hardy and Angie tried to hold him back.
“I’ll give you the first one, Bubba, but that’s it.” Hardy rubbed his jaw with murder in his eye.
The door opened again, and Wyatt and Peyton came in. Wyatt took the situation in at a glance. “What’s going on?”
Bubba looked at Wyatt. “Hardy hurt Cupcake.”
“It was an accident. A terrible accident, and Angie doesn’t need to deal with this on top of everything else.”
Her father got to his feet. “Son, the sheriff is right. This is not the time or the place for your anger. If you can’t control yourself, then you need to go home.”
Angie took a deep breath. “I would appreciate it if everyone went home. I need to focus on Erin, and I can’t handle this bickering right now.”
“We’re not leaving you alone,” Doris said. “This is a time when you need your family.”
Angie remembered her mother saying the same words when Angie had been pregnant and Dennis had left her. But Angie had refused to be browbeaten and treated like a child. She wouldn’t allow it today, either.
Before she could say a word, Wyatt spoke up, “Maybe it’s best if we let Angie have some quiet time. She’ll call if she needs us.” Wyatt knew the Wiznowski family and their constant squabbling.
Doris glared at Wyatt. “You may be the sheriff of Horseshoe and have control there, but you can’t tell me what to do concerning my daughter. I am her mother.”
“He might not be able to,” her father spoke up, to everyone’s surprise, “but I can. Let’s go. Angie will call if she needs us.”
“Willard—”
“You heard me, Doris.”
Angie had had enough. She was worried out of her mind about what her daughter was going through at that precise moment and she couldn’t take anymore. She bolted for the door and ran down the hall away from everybody.
She reached a nurse’s station and stopped. “Do you know if Erin Wiznowski is still in surgery? I’m her mother.”
The nurse looked at the computer screen and tapped a few keys. “Yes, she’s still in surgery. Dr. Robbins will be out to speak to you when it’s over.”
“Can I wait somewhere closer?”
“Sure. There are a couple of chairs around the corner, not far from the operating room. I’ll let Dr. Robbins know you’re there.”
“Thank you.” She went around the corner and sank into a chair. Taking several deep breaths, she tried to calm herself. So much had happened she didn’t even know if that was possible.
“Angie.”
She looked up to see Peyton standing there, a little unsure, which was out of character for her confident friend. “I brought this from your house.” She handed Angie her purse.
“Thank you. I’d forgotten about it.”
“Your phone’s in there, and so is your charger.”
Angie slipped the strap over her shoulder. “Is my family still here?”
“They were standing around the waiting room grumbling when I left.” Peyton cocked her head. “Which is typical of the Wiznowskis.”
“Yeah. That’s a nice way to say it.”
Peyton hugged her. “I’m a phone call away if you need anything.”
“I know, and I’ll call as soon as Erin is out of surgery.”
“I can stay if—”
Angie shook her head. “No. Go home to your babies. I know no one understands how I’m feeling, but I really need to be alone.”
“You got it. Talk to you tomorrow.” Peyton walked down the hall. Angie wished her family was as easy to deal with.
She glanced at her watch and saw it was almost eight o’clock. Why wasn’t the surgery over? She just couldn’t stand the thought of Erin’s perfect little body being operated on. Tears trickled from her eyes, and she brushed them away. More followed. Oh, what the hell. She needed to cry. That was the only way she was going to get this nightmare out of her system. The nervousness, the tension and the worry would still be there, but maybe she could cope better; at the moment she was losing a grip on everything she held dear.
“Angie.”
She looked up, brushing tears away as quickly as she could, and stared into those dark blue eyes that did a number on her self-control. Why couldn’t he follow everyone’s lead and leave?
He held a cup of coffee in each hand. “Thought you might need this.”
She accepted the drink gratefully. “Thank you.”
“Are you okay?”
“No. Erin’s never been away from me except to spend a night at my mom’s or Jody’s, but I’m never far away. I need to hold my baby to know she’s going to be fine. That’s when I’ll be okay.” Her hands gripped the warm cup. “And I’ll be much better once you get off the guilt trip, too. Please leave me in peace.”
“Sorry—I can’t do that until I know your daughter’s okay.”
“Her name is Erin,” she said, sharper than she’d intended. Maybe because a father should know his child’s name. And the father had a right to know he had a child.
How did she tell him that? How did she make up for ten years of keeping a secret without tearing Erin’s world apart? And without shattering Hardy’s?
She took a sip of the coffee and stared into the depths of the liquid, which was as dark as her soul. How had a good Catholic girl gone so wrong?
She cleared her throat. “Hardy...”
Chapter Three
Dr. Robbins came around the corner, stopping Angie. She ran to him. “How’s my daughter?”
The doctor pulled off his surgical cap. “She’s fine. Everything went smoothly. They’re taking her to a room. You can get the number from the nurse.”
“Oh, thanks.”
“We’ll go over her care first thing in the morning. She’ll probably sleep most of the night. If she complains about pain, I’ve left something on order for her.”
“Thank you.” Angie hurried down the hall to the nurse’s station. Hardy stared after her.
“She’s really going to be fine,” the doctor said to him.
“Yeah.” He sighed, wondering if she would recover completely. “She has a lot of weeks of healing ahead, though.”
“Kids are tough, and she’ll bounce back quickly.” The doctor nodded and followed Angie.
Hardy stood there feeling something he couldn’t explain. The little girl was going to be okay, so he should go home. His father and Olivia were waiting to hear from him. But for some reason, he couldn’t make himself leave the hospital. Maybe it was the worry on Angie’s face and the fact that he’d caused it.
He saw Wyatt walking toward him, and he went to meet him.
“What are you still doing here?” he asked his friend.
Wyatt handed him his truck keys. “Peyton and I brought your truck so you’ll have a way to get home.”
“Ah, man, thanks. It hasn’t crossed my mind yet that I don’t have a ride.”
“How’s Erin?”
“She’s out of surgery, and Angie has gone to be with her.”
Wyatt removed his hat and scratched his head. “I wish she’d let someone stay with her, but she’s one stubborn woman.”
“Her family is supervocal, and I can see how they’d suck the energy right out of her.”
Wyatt smiled. “They’re a lively bunch, for sure.” His friend looked at him. “Bubba didn’t mean anything. He just loves his niece.”
“I know that.” Hardy rubbed his sore jaw. The punch was nothing compared to what Angie’s daughter had suffered. He’d injured a child. He was still grappling with that.
“If you’re leaving, I’ll walk you out.”
“Um...I’m going to stick around for a bit. I want to make sure everything’s okay with the little girl.”
“It was an accident, Hardy. I was there, so stop blaming yourself.”
Hardy swiped a hand through his hair. “Tell that to my stomach.”
“It’ll get better.” Wyatt patted him on the shoulder. “I’ll catch you tomorrow.”
Hardy tossed his coffee cup in a trash can and went to the nurse’s desk to ask for the little girl’s room number. She was in the pediatric ward, and it didn’t take him long to find it. But he hesitated outside the door. Angie wasn’t going to like him being there.
The hall was quiet and the lights had been dimmed for the night. Parents were with their children. He should leave and come back tomorrow. But he couldn’t do that. He pushed the door open slightly.
Angie had a chair pulled close to the bed, and she was sitting in it, stroking her daughter’s hair back from her forehead. The light was low, but he could see her clearly. She looked so different from that young, innocent girl she’d been a long time ago.
There was nothing remarkable about Angie’s looks—she had golden-brown eyes, sandy-brown hair and a smooth complexion. Back then she’d been slim. Now her figure was more mature, and her hair was different, too. Evidently, her beautician sisters had highlighted it or something because it was more blond than brown now. She wore it in a ponytail with several strands curling around her face.
Yet Angie had a special quality that endeared her to everyone. When she talked, she spoke with a smile in her voice. She was open, honest and sweet. Everybody liked her. He was no exception.
The little girl stirred, and Angie was on her feet. An IV was still in the child’s arm. Angie leaned down and whispered, “Erin, baby, Mama’s here.”
“Mama?”
“Yes. I’m right here.”
“I...I feel funny.” The tiny voice was soft and weak, and Hardy’s stomach tightened like a balled fist.
“You’ve been in an accident, baby.”
“What...happened?”
“You were running after your beach ball and—”
“Yeah. I didn’t want it to go into Mrs. Wimby’s yard...’cause...she keeps things.”
Angie kissed the girl’s forehead. “I know, baby. Go back to sleep and we’ll talk about it tomorrow.”
“Have to get my ball, Mama, to go on our trip.”
“Shh. Go back to sleep. Mama’s here.”
“My head hurts.”
“I’ll get the nurse.”
Erin’s eyes opened wide. “Where...where are we?”
“In the hospital.”
“Why?” The little girl began to cry, and Hardy’s stomach clamped that much tighter.
“Shh, baby. You’re okay. Please don’t cry.”
The girl closed her eyes and drifted into a drug-induced sleep. Hardy stepped away from the door and sank into a chair in the hall. The girl wasn’t okay. She was in pain. He took a couple of deep breaths, knowing the knot in his gut wasn’t going to go away for a while. He was so angry with himself. It was a neighborhood with children. He should’ve been more careful. He should have—
He heard them before he saw them. Loud voices. Angry voices. Could only belong to Wiznowskis. It was the twins. There was no mistaking them. Colorful and flashy were their trademarks. He never could tell them apart, so he’d stopped trying.
One had on at least three-inch red clogs with a short skirt and a tank top. The other had on orange high heels, shorts and a gypsy-type blouse. Both wore necklaces, bracelets and earrings that jangled when they walked. Their hair color seemed to change weekly. Today one was a blonde with a bluish tint. The one in shorts had black hair with orangey highlights.