Doctor Bellingham walked her into a conference room, where she was met with two other people, one man, one woman . . . both in business attire and not hospital scrubs.
“What’s going on?”
“This is Ms. Gomez, head of risk management here at the hospital, and Mr. Coban, one of our attorneys.”
“Risk management and attorneys?”
“Miss Bartlett, Hope’s father is creating quite a fuss about being denied access to his daughter,” Ms. Gomez told her. “The scene he caused last night and the report from the nursing staff in the ER have given us what we needed to keep him away temporarily.”
“Hope doesn’t know her dad.”
“We understand that.” Mr. Coban leaned forward. “When your daughter was in less stable condition, the doctors had no problem suggesting his presence could hinder her recovery.”
Melanie picked up on one key word. “Had . . .”
“Right.” Doctor Bellingham sat in the chair beside hers and placed a hand on her forearm. “I can keep Hope in the ICU tonight, but tomorrow I’m going to downgrade her to the pediatric floor. Chances are she won’t be there very long before I discharge her home. While I’m sure meeting her father will be a shock, my medical opinion about it harming her recovery at this point is that it won’t.”
Melanie squeezed her eyes shut.
“Without a restraining order, there isn’t much we can do about keeping a father from seeing his child in the hospital,” Ms. Gomez said.
“I’ve spoken with Mr. Stone’s attorney and they’ve agreed to wait until Hope is out of the ICU before forcing the issue.”
So Nathan had hired one of his own to push his way in.
“There’s nothing I can do to stop him?”
“If he causes a scene, becomes a threat, we have full rights to make him leave.”
She knew when Nathan had shown up in River Bend it wouldn’t be the last she’d see of him.
“If it’s any help, I’ll request child services to be present when Hope’s father arrives tomorrow.”
“That’s not a bad idea,” she whispered.
Mr. Coban and Ms. Gomez stood to leave. “Thank you for your cooperation.”
They didn’t bother trying to shake her hand as they left the room.
Doctor Bellingham held back. “There’s something I wanted to tell you about without Hope listening.”
“Oh?”
“One of the things we see a lot in head injuries is a change in temper, personality. I’ve seen extreme cases where patients become violent for no apparent reason, bouts of anger, sometimes depression. Families report a shift in behavior that wasn’t present before the head trauma.”
Melanie stopped thinking about Nathan and once again focused on her daughter. “She seems fine. The same sweet girl I had yesterday. More tired than normal, but the same girl.”
“And she may be. I just don’t want you to be shocked if she does something, or says something out of character. Try and be patient and let me know what you see. There are some great websites that talk about post–head trauma issues. I’ll have the nurses print you a list.”
“Thank you, Doctor.”
He patted her shoulder and left her in the room by herself.
When Wyatt walked in a few minutes later, she let him hold her while she told him about Nathan. In the end she said the part that scared her the most. “He’s hired an attorney.”
“To force access to the hospital?”
“What if it’s more than that? What if he wants more? Custody? The things he said in the ER . . . I can’t afford a lawyer, Wyatt. His family has connections.”
“What kind of connections?”
“He is Nathan Stone the Third. Both his father and grandfather are lawyers. I remember early on him saying something about his father wanting to run for governor. Nathan would bitch about senator this and mayor that and how he had to attend all kinds of fancy parties when he was a kid.”
“Those kind of connections.” Understanding filled Wyatt’s face.
“What am I going to do?”
Wyatt placed his palms on both sides of her head and kissed her briefly. “You’re going to go back to Hope’s room. You’re going to eat whatever Zoe puts in front of you. And then you’re going to read Hope a bedtime story before curling up on that god-awful recliner chair and try and get some sleep.”
“But—”
He placed his thumb over her lips. “Melanie, you’ve been doing this by yourself for a really long time. You have a large network of friends here who aren’t going to let some daddy-come-lately take your kid away. You concentrate on Hope, and let me see what we can do about Nathan Stone the Third.” When he said Nathan’s name, he added a little aristocratic lift to his voice.
CHAPTER TWENTY
Once Hope was moved to a private room on a regular floor, her room exploded in color and scent. Balloons and flowers, stuffed animals and candy. Some of the treats were hand delivered by friends and visitors, while a local florist brought others in. Hope had never been a handheld video game kind of kid, outside of the kind she found for free on Melanie’s phone. But when Wyatt handed her one of those gaming devices Melanie could never afford, Hope’s face lit up and out came her excitement in spades.
Wyatt had accepted the one-arm hug and told her the device was to replace her climbing trees for a while.
Nathan had agreed to postpone his visit until child services could be present. As that turned out, it was going to happen just after noon.
Melanie watched the time tick down slowly until she couldn’t avoid the conversation any longer. Wyatt kept glancing at the time as if he, too, was worried about the outcome. It warmed her heart that he cared enough to be nervous.
Although she loved her friends, Melanie knew better than to have them in the room when Nathan showed up. Zoe wanted a piece of him in a big way, and Jo was armed. All things considered, she accepted Wyatt’s support when everyone left for lunch.
“Hope, sweetie. I have some news for you.” Melanie attempted a smile to put her daughter at ease.
“Yeah? What?” She reluctantly put the game down.
“You’re going to have a special visitor today.” Melanie had practiced the lines in her head the night before until after two in the morning.
“Another one?”
“Yes . . . you see . . .” Getting the words out was impossible. She took a deep breath and tried again. “Your father is coming to visit you.”
Hope’s jaw dropped.
“He heard you were hurt and was concerned.”
“The daddy that left us?”
Melanie glanced at Wyatt . . .
“Right.”
Hope moved her big blue eyes to Wyatt and blinked several times.
“Is he nice?” The question felt strange, the answer even stranger.
“If he isn’t, we can have him leave.”
“You and Uncle Wyatt are going to stay when he’s here, right?”
Melanie patted her arm. “Of course, sweetie. I’m not going anywhere.”
Hope bit her lip. “M’kay.”
It wasn’t long before Melanie heard Nathan’s voice in the hall outside the room. She stiffened.
Wyatt glanced at the clock on the wall and tapped his fingers on his knee.
“Miss Bartlett?”
“Yes?” Melanie stood and acknowledged the young woman who entered the room.
“I’m Pamela, the social worker with child services.”
“Oh, hi.”
Pamela offered a genuine smile to Hope. “Did you tell Hope who is coming today?”
Melanie nodded.
“Good. Well, Hope . . . are you ready to meet your father?”
Hope just shrugged.
Pamela pushed back the curtain and waved Nathan inside.
>
He wore a suit, complete with a tie and polished shoes. Beside him was another man, slightly taller, just as smartly dressed.
Nathan acknowledged her with nothing more than a passing stare; his eyes found Wyatt and a tiny smirk lifted from his lips. Then he finally looked at his daughter. His face softened, and for one brief moment Melanie thought maybe, just maybe, Nathan truly gave a crap about his little girl. “Oh, darling . . . look what she let happen to you.”
“Mr. Stone.” Pamela’s warning voice brought his attention to the social worker.
“It hurts me to see her like this.” Knowing Nathan the way she did, she saw through his insincerity and hoped the social worker did too.
“You’re my father?” Hope asked.
“Yes . . . I’m your daddy.”
Hope shook her head. “Daddies don’t leave. You left.”
Nathan forced a smile. “I know that’s what you’ve been told. I’m here now, and I’m not going to leave.”
Hope peered closer and narrowed her eyes. “I’ve seen you before.”
Melanie held her breath.
“When I was in the emergency place.” Hope looked beyond Nathan and at her. “You were yelling at my mommy.”
Nathan glanced at the man he’d arrived with. “I was upset, honey.”
Hope started to frown. “I’m not your honey.”
She shook her head. “And you were yelling at Auntie Jo.”
The seconds ticked by as Nathan tried to back his way out of his actions, which clearly Hope remembered. “When parents hear their children are hurt, it makes them upset, Hope. I’m sorry I yelled.”
Melanie was sure part of Nathan died with the strangled apology. He was sorry for nothing, never had been.
“Why do you care if I got hurt? You don’t even know me.” Hope’s questions were incredibly thought out and well articulated. Both took Melanie by surprise.
Clearly she wasn’t the only one.
“Of course I care, honey.”
Hope narrowed her eyes.
“Hope,” Nathan corrected. “Now that I’ve found you, I’m going to take care of you.”
Hope pushed back into the bed and Melanie reached for her daughter’s hand.
“Mommy takes care of me. Mommy and Uncle Wyatt and Miss Gina.”
Nathan’s voice turned cool. “Yeah, I see how well they’re doing that.”
“That’s quite enough, Mr. Stone.”
Nathan offered half a nod and stood. “I’ll be back tomorrow, Hope.”
Hope just stared and didn’t bother saying good-bye when he started from the room.
“Melanie? Can I have a word outside?”
She considered telling him to screw off but decided it was best to keep Hope away from the hatred boiling in her veins.
“Wyatt and I will be right back, sweetie.”
Pamela lingered behind. “I’ll be here.”
Melanie grasped Wyatt’s hand, squeezed, and pulled him alongside her.
Once they moved away from Hope’s door and hopefully her ears, Nathan turned. “You have her quite brainwashed, Mel.”
The man at Nathan’s side placed a warning hand on his shoulder. “Keep it cool, Nathan.”
“You’re not going to wiggle away from me again,” Nathan kept talking. “I will be back tomorrow, and the next day, and as often as I can until we have this settled.”
“Have what settled, Nathan?”
The elevator doors behind them dinged.
His anger snapped shut with her question and his hand fished into the inside pocket of his jacket. With a sleazy smile he took her free hand, which she nearly snatched away, and shoved the envelope between her fingers. “Divorce and child custody! Consider yourself served.”
“What the—?” She glanced at the envelope and started to tremble. “You have to be married in order to file for a divorce.” She wasn’t a lawyer, but she understood that.
Nathan looked at the man to his side. “See what I mean? Complete denial.”
Melanie clenched the papers in her fist and stepped closer with the full intent of shoving them down his throat.
Wyatt wrapped an arm around her waist, and a new voice to the mix interrupted the scene. “Hold up there, young lady.”
Nathan twisted his attention behind him and paused.
“What do we have here?” The man had to be in his late fifties, with dirty blond hair that shone with a little silver-gray on the sides. Other than that, all Melanie caught at first glance was his height, his suit that looked like a million bucks, and his easy smile.
An easy smile she’d seen before.
Wyatt pried the papers from Melanie’s fist and handed them to the stranger.
“Who the hell are you?” Nathan asked.
The man lifted a finger in the air as he ripped open the seal on the envelope and read the first few lines.
“Tsk, tsk, bad form, Counselor.”
Nathan thumbed in the stranger’s direction. “Who is this guy?”
“This is about as unethical as it gets, serving papers while one is in the hospital. Proves you’re very wet behind the ears.”
“Oh, crap.” The man behind Nathan finally spoke.
“William Gibson,” the stranger introduced himself to Nathan, took a card from his pocket, and handed it to the man at Nathan’s side. “Miss Bartlett’s counsel.”
When Nathan went to grab the card, Mr. Gibson lifted it from his reach. “And if I see another stunt like this, I’ll bring you both up with the review board.”
Nathan snatched the card and glared.
“C’mon, Nathan.”
Nathan’s attorney pushed him into the open elevator and glared as the doors closed.
Pamela emerged from her daughter’s room. “I was about to call security.”
“We’re okay,” Wyatt told her.
Melanie was never so happy to see the man leave.
Once Nathan was gone, Wyatt let go of her waist and grasped Mr. Gibson’s hand in a firm shake and then a double-armed hug. “Thanks for coming, Dad.”
It took a full fifteen seconds for everything to click into place.
“Gibson . . . Gibson . . . this is your dad?”
Wyatt gave her his fullest smile, and when his dad did the same, the similarity was striking. Both handsome, both tall, both charming . . . wow.
“You must be Melanie.”
She didn’t know what to say. “I am.”
“I’ve heard a lot about you.”
“You have?”
He winked, just like his son often did, and then his gaze moved behind her.
“And you must be Hope.”
Melanie turned to see Hope standing in the doorway of her room. The hospital gown she wore went past her knees, her slippered feet stood in place.
“Hope, sweetie, what are you doing out of bed?” Melanie took the few feet that separated them and knelt to her daughter’s level.
“I had to pee.”
Melanie took her hand. “You were told to ask for help.”
Hope kept staring at Mr. Gibson. “Are you really Uncle Wyatt’s daddy?”
Mr. Gibson laughed. “I am.”
“Did you teach Uncle Wyatt how to climb trees and build things?”
“Climb trees, yes. Build things . . .” he cringed, a fully animated expression Melanie knew was for Hope’s benefit. “Mrs. Gibson, Wyatt’s mom, hides the hammer from me. It’s embarrassing.”
Hope gave a full-tooth smile. “It can’t be that bad!”
“Yes, it can,” Wyatt said behind his father.
Hope shook loose of Melanie’s hand and grabbed Wyatt’s father’s. “I’ll show you my room. I have lots of presents.”
Melanie watched, slack-jawed, as her daughter took to a complete str
anger and disappeared into her room.
“Your dad’s an attorney.”
“Yeah,” Wyatt said as he draped his arm over her shoulders.
“And you called him to help.”
“Yep.”
Melanie took a step in front of him and reached both arms over his shoulders. “Thank you.” She reached for his lips with hers and sighed.
From behind her, Hope’s voice was full of sass. “Yeah, they do that a lot!”
William Gibson, otherwise known in the court and judges’ world as Wild Bill, was a tornado. There was no other way to describe how he worked. He kept most of his primary questions about Hope and her safety and security. The barely controlled anger of Nathan and his unethical way of pushing his way into Hope’s life threatened an already frightened child. At least that’s how William worded the papers he filed in order to keep Nathan away until the custody battle could be decided.
Melanie didn’t even want to acknowledge the ludicrous request for a divorce. She, Wyatt, and William were sitting in the corner of the hospital cafeteria close to the end of visiting hours. Hope was entertaining Aunt Zoe and Melanie’s brother, Mark, who had shown up a few hours before.
“It clearly states he is filing for a divorce.”
“How can he do that if we were never married?”
“No trips south of the border . . . too many drinks?” William was half joking.
“No.”
“Trips to Vegas . . . fake chapel?”
“No Vegas, chapels, or anything.”
William twisted the papers in front of her and pointed. “This date mean anything to you?”
According to the paperwork, Nathan claimed they were married a couple of weeks after Hope was born.
“Sure,” she told him. “Diapers, breastfeeding, colicky baby, sleep deprivation. I measured that first year after Hope by the milestones she reached and the hours of sleep I managed every night.”
“No wedding?”
“I’m telling you. It never happened. Nathan was pushing a lot those first few months. I didn’t feel right about it and told him we needed to wait at least a year. If we could make it that first year, I’d give in.”
William sighed. “Yet he told everyone you were married.”
“He did. At first I’d correct him, tell people we were engaged at best. But after a while, especially once it was apparent I was having a baby, it was just easier to go along with him. I regret it now.”
Doing It Over (A Most Likely to Novel Book 1) Page 21