Killing Secrets

by Docter, K. L

  Amanda’s lips twisted into a little smile. It disappeared quickly when it pulled at a split in her lip. She whimpered.

  Patrick caught her hand in his big one. “I know it hurts to smile. How about we go see some doctors about fixing that right up? That work for you?”

  She squeezed his fingers and nodded.

  With a last goodbye to his brother, Patrick walked alongside the gurney back to the ER room, still holding her hand. When they got there, the doctor came in and Patrick asked Amanda questions and had her point to places that hurt. By the time they finished, the nurse came in with the CAT scan.

  The doctor asked to speak to Patrick outside the room. Before he left, he leaned down to kiss Amanda’s forehead and told her he’d be right outside the door where she could see him. He could feel her gaze on him as the doctor quietly explained the images showed that, yes, she had a bruised spleen. But, thankfully, they could find no evidence of other internal injuries.

  Just when Patrick began to relax, the doctor continued. “I don’t think we should concern ourselves about surgery at this time, but we want to keep an eye on her spleen for the next day or two so I’m admitting her. It’s going to take a little while to get her a bed on the pediatric floor, so we’ll keep her here until they’re ready to take her up.”

  “Surgery on her spleen? That’s pretty serious, isn’t it?”

  “It can have some long term health effects if we have to operate, but I’m hopeful it won’t come to that.”

  An ambulance pulled up to the ER entrance and several doctors and nurses hurried to the doors to escort paramedics and their patient into the hospital. It took less than two seconds for Patrick to recognize Rachel’s gorgeous blond curls. “Rachel,” he whispered, ready to rush to her side. But then, he glanced into Amanda’s room and saw that she was still watching him.

  He walked to her bed and smiled. “Your mama’s here, Amanda.”

  “Mama?”

  She said the one word so softly Patrick wasn’t sure he hadn’t imagined it. He stroked her hair off her forehead with fingers that shook. “What did you say, baby?”

  Her eyelids drooped tiredly. “Mama,” she whispered, drifting off into sleep.

  Patrick stared down at the precious little girl who looked so much like her mother. His throat closed. Amanda spoke! That her first word was to him and not her mother broke his heart, but she’d said something. Had the trauma of the accident broken through her silence? “Sweetheart,” he whispered, “your mama’s going to be so excited to hear you talk.”

  He wanted to shout the news, run to Rachel, hug her and tell her everything was going to be okay with her little girl. Amanda talked! And her mama was lying down the hall in another ER bay. He motioned one of the nurses into the room. “Please watch Amanda while I check on her mother?” he asked. “If she wakes up again, tell her where I am, that I’ll be right back.”

  “No problem,” the man said. “Take your time.”

  Relieved, Patrick stalked down the corridor to the room where the doctors worked on the woman he loved. The ER staff knew Rachel was being brought in, and they believed he was Amanda’s daddy, so they didn’t question his right to enter the room. He listened to the paramedics report on her condition after her removal from the truck. He winced when they said she might have a broken ankle. He was grateful it wasn’t worse. Her legs could have been a twisted mess behind the console that had trapped her.

  That she kept drifting in and out of consciousness was a bigger concern. He told them about her previous concussion, her altitude sickness, and gave them Sam’s cell number so they could request her medical records from his hospital.

  When they wheeled her to Imaging, Patrick checked on Amanda. She was still asleep, a natural sleep, according to the nurse, so he decided to take the time to arrange for the shutdown of Thorne Enterprises as Jack requested. Another ambulance arrived in a flurry of noise and screaming relatives, forcing him to find a seat in a much quieter waiting room to make his calls.

  Patrick called his mom first. Some of the tension rolled off his shoulders when she informed him that Jack had already been in touch, she and Dad were on their way to the hospital. He promised to update them when they arrived.

  Next up was Jane. He told her to stay home, briefly explaining what took place after she’d gone home with Suze this afternoon. “This is all my fault,” she said, starting to cry again. “If I hadn’t—”

  “Stop, Jane,” he said. “The accident wasn’t your fault. We’ll get to the bottom of everything. Just stay home with Suze and take care of yourself.

  “Skip will make all of the necessary calls notifying everyone I’m closing down until—”

  “You can’t shut down Thorne Enterprises!”

  “It’s done,” he said shortly. “With any luck it will only be a few days, but don’t worry, you’ll get your paycheck.”

  Jane snorted in his ear. “I don’t care about that, Patrick. It’s just that this business means everything to you, and I-I never thought I’d hear you say such a thing. I really am sorry for my part in this mess.”

  Patrick slumped in the waiting room chair, suddenly exhausted. It had been a traumatic day and was far from over. He ran a restive hand over his face to pull himself together. “Nothing means as much to me as Rachel and Amanda, or the safety of my crew,” he said. “I don’t want anyone else getting hurt.”

  He then contacted Skip to tell him what to do. “I’ll call you back in an hour or so to help you with phone calls, but I can’t leave the hospital for a while.”

  “I get it, Patrick,” Skip replied. “Family comes first. You were there when I needed you after Karly—” He paused a long moment, and a muffled conversation took place in the background before he came back. “We know what to do, Patrick, so don’t worry about Thorne Enterprises. We’ve got it covered.” Then, he hung up.

  Relieved Skip was taking care of his business, Patrick walked back toward the ER bay where Rachel slept. He nodded to the nurse recording her vitals, and turned to see if Amanda had awakened. One of the little girl’s nursing team approached him from the hall before he could leave Rachel’s cubicle. “Mr. Thorne?”

  “Yes?”

  “The doctor on Amanda’s case has ordered a bed for her. We’re hoping surgery won’t become necessary, but we like to be prepared for all contingencies.” She glanced at her clipboard. “Amanda has a rare blood type. We do have blood available. It would be better if we had a family member with the same blood type available.” She glanced up at him. “Are you AB negative?”

  “I can’t help there.” He shook his head, the new worry making him reveal too much. “I’m not Amanda’s real father.”

  “Oh.” She frowned. “It would be ideal to have her real father’s blood, if it’s the same type, so we were really hoping to talk to you, I mean, her father.” She stammered to a stop.

  “He’s unavailable.” A good thing, too. If Patrick were in the same room with Bishop, he’d likely kill him. It didn’t matter he didn’t think Rachel’s ex-husband was responsible for running her off the road. There were other issues to settle between them. Like making it clear Bishop wasn’t getting Rachel and Amanda back. Ever. They weren’t his any longer. They were Patrick’s now…to protect, at least. He didn’t dare think beyond this moment. When Bishop was no longer a threat was soon enough to deal with his deeper feelings for the two females who’d crashed into his life.

  “It would be easiest to have her mother’s blood, but since she’s not available either—” The nurse glanced at the clipboard again, like it would give her an easy way out of the conversation.

  Patrick felt sorry for her discomfort. “Look, Nurse, even if she were conscious and healthy, Rachel isn’t likely to be able to give Amanda blood either. She isn’t her biological mother.”

  “She’s not? But I thought—” The nurse only looked more bewildered, but she straightened quickly. “I’ll just note you’re not the right blood type then. Excuse me.”
r />   Patrick watched her scurry away.

  Rachel’s Southern whiskey voice cut into his back. “H-How could you?”

  Grateful to hear her speak, Patrick turned with a smile that quickly disappeared when he saw the angry flush in her face. “What?”

  “You promised to keep my secret, keep Amanda safe. I should have known better than trust you!”

  “I was just—”

  He’d screwed up. Badly. “I’m sorry, Rach. I’m just trying to make sure Amanda gets proper medical care.” The hospital staff, he realized, were the least of his worries. The only real threat to Rachel’s custody of her daughter was the authorities. She’d go ballistic if she knew everything he’d revealed to Jack.

  “Get out.”

  Patrick stiffened. “You can’t be serious. I—”

  “Get out, and don’t come near me or my daughter again.” She pointed to the door. “Get out!”

  “But—” Her angry glare stopped him.

  She searched through the folds of her blanket until she found her call button. When the nurse arrived, Rachel pointed at him. “Get him out of here.”

  The nurse’s gaze went back and forth between them. “But your husband—”

  “He’s not my husband,” she said. “And he’s not Amanda’s father, either.”

  The petite woman stiffened and confronted Patrick. “Sir, I have to ask you to leave,” she said firmly.

  “Rachel, don’t—”

  She looked away and the nurse spoke again. “Mr. Thorne? Please don’t force me to call security.”

  Angry with himself for the trust he’d thrown away with a few careless words, he stalked out of the room. He almost ran over his parents in his haste. “Mom! Dad, when did you get here?”

  “A few minutes ago.” His dad’s sympathetic expression told Patrick they’d heard Rachel throw him out.

  His mother leveled him with “the look”, the one he and his brothers grew up dreading because it meant someone was in big trouble. “I’ll go check on Rachel,” she said quietly. “You talk to your father.” With that, she walked into Rachel’s room and firmly shut the door behind her.

  “You’re in deep crap now,” his father said dryly. “One pissed woman is bad enough. You have two about to gang up on you.” He jockeyed his crutch under his arm and led the way toward the waiting room. “What did you do?”

  “Where do I start?” He was more than ready to talk to the one man who’d helped him navigate down every rocky road he’d ever faced. He spent the next twenty minutes telling his father everything.

  “Geez, son, and you still had time to fall in love?” His father shook his head in wonder. “I’m impressed. I thought my month-long courtship of your mother was fast.”

  “I’m not—” Patrick couldn’t finish the denial. If he’d learned nothing else today, it was that he did care about Rachel and Amanda. He couldn’t imagine being without them. He knew his life would never be the same once they went back to Dallas. That seemed more likely than ever now that Rachel was so upset with him. “What do I do?”

  “Apologize every day, four, ten times a day, until she changes her mind and takes you back. It’s what I had to do when I screwed up with your mother.”

  “Telling Mom you can’t be with her because you’re a cop and she’s a blue blood is one thing, Dad,” he said. “I revealed Rachel’s most precious secret, one that jeopardizes her custody of the child she loves.”

  “You love Amanda, too, son. You were looking out for her best interest.” He put his hand over Patrick’s right hand, fisted on his thigh. “When Rachel calms down, she’ll realize that. Give her time.”

  “She’s still going back to Dallas, Dad. I can’t, I’m not ready—” Patrick couldn’t finish. “I do care, but I can’t give them what they deserve. After Karly—”

  “Don’t let Karly kill your life, too, Patrick.” He squeezed his hand. “I’ve held my tongue because your mother’s convinced you’ll work through your guilt on your own. But you have to accept the fact that none of what Karly did was your fault. She was clinically depressed. Sometimes, no matter what you do or how much you care for someone, bad things happen. It’s not like you pushed her in front of that bus.” He leaned back in his chair. “I haven’t spent more than a few days in Rachel’s company, but I can tell you she’s nothing like Karly.”

  No. Rachel was nothing like Karly. Rachel was strong, independent. She wasn’t afraid to take on a brutal ex-husband, to make personal sacrifices to protect the child she loved with a true mother’s fierceness. It didn’t mean Patrick hadn’t screwed up their lives. He’d destroyed Rachel’s trust and jeopardized Amanda’s safety. “I have to go,” he said, standing abruptly.

  His father frowned up at him. “Where are you going?”

  He should be running for the emergency exit, but he knew he wasn’t leaving until he knew Rachel and Amanda were okay. When they were out of danger, well, he’d cross that bridge when he came to it. “I want to peek in on Amanda, if I can get near her. Then, I’m getting coffee. You want one?”

  “Sure. I’ll wait here until your mother comes out.”

  ~~~

  “You have every right to be angry with my son, Rachel, but you know Patrick loves you, don’t you?” Evelyn snagged a chair from one corner of the room, dragged it bedside, and sat down.

  Rachel sniffed back tears she’d refused to release until Patrick left the room. She took the tissue his mother handed her and wiped her eyes. “He wouldn’t have revealed my secret if he cared about me.” Would she always love men who ultimately caused her pain?

  “Men do and say stupid things when they’re out of their comfort zone.” Evelyn snorted. “Believe me, I know. I raised six boys. Even Ross isn’t immune. They all like to think they have control of everything. When it comes to matters of the heart, though, they lose control and that confuses them.”

  “You don’t understand. What he did—” Rachel shook her head when she felt her anger weakening. “If I lose Amanda, I-I, how can I forgive him?” Not that it mattered because she knew Evelyn had it wrong. Men made love to women all the time without having feelings for them.

  “It’s difficult to see beyond your hurt,” she said, patting her hand. “But, it will work out.”

  Unable to deny her feelings and lacking confidence that anything would ever work out between them—she didn’t have the heart to hurt Evelyn, who’d given her so much—she said nothing. She was almost grateful when a physician entered room and ended the conversation.

  “Ms.,” the man glanced at the clipboard in his hand, and frowned, “James. Ms. James, I’m the doctor assigned to Amanda’s case. Could we talk for a few minutes?”

  Rachel reached out to Evelyn when the older woman began to rise. She took her hand, very comfortable with the woman who reminded her so much of her own mother. “Whatever you have to say can be said in front of Evelyn.”

  The doctor nodded. “The nurse told me the man who’s been posing as your husband is, in fact, not your husband.” His scowl deepened. “I was informed you’re not Amanda’s mother either. Only someone with legal custody can sign admittance forms for her.”

  “I have legal custody, Doctor,” Rachel said with confidence. It would take a court of law to deny her rights, dammit! “Amanda is my daughter.”

  “I knew there had to be some confusion,” he said with a genuine smile. “For Amanda to have your rare blood type, she had to be your daughter.”

  “But—” When she was artificially inseminated, Simon told her he would try to match the appearance of the donor mother to her as closely as possible, but down to the same blood type? Was that kind of accuracy even possible?

  The doctor handed her the clipboard and asked her to sign the admission forms, forcing away her confusion. He explained Amanda’s injuries. “We want to keep a close eye on her for the next couple of days, which is why we’re admitting her.”

  “Thank you, Doctor. I feel so much better knowing she’s not in immediate
danger.”

  “We’ll take good care of her.” He smiled. “This brings me to my next point. We do have a blood bank available, but we prefer to have a family member with Amanda’s blood type on call in case surgery becomes necessary. You may have the same blood type but you can’t be a donor. We wouldn’t put your baby at risk. Is there another family member we can talk to?”

  She froze. “What did you say?”

  “We’d like another family member—”

  “No.” Baby? “What baby?”

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  “You’re pregnant.”

  Rachel stared at the physician like he’d inexplicably grown two heads. “That’s not possible.”

  He nodded. “When you came in, one of the first things we did was cross match your blood type and check for pregnancy. We can identify the presence of hormones in the bloodstream only a few days after conception now.” He consulted his clipboard. “We can conduct another test to verify the results, but according to your blood work, you are pregnant.”

  “I-I—” Rachel glanced at Evelyn, counting back to the night Patrick had made love to her. It had been eight days since she’d learned lovemaking could be as spectacular and satisfying with the right man as she’d read in books, so the time frame was possible. But what about the battery of tests Simon had done when she and Greg were trying to get pregnant?

  Simon told her the problem was hers, that she wasn’t fertile. Was it all just a monumental mistake or…oh, God, had Simon lied? Why would he do such a horrible thing? He knew how empty she’d felt, how devastated she was when he broke the news to her. She’d cried so hard it had taken Greg forever to calm her dow—

  Greg. Her con artist, ex-husband. This was his doing. She knew it!

  Evelyn picked up her limp hand. “Rachel, sweetie, are you okay?”

  No. She wasn’t okay. If she was right, Greg had perpetrated a con on her, his own wife! From the day they’d met, when he “accidently” ran into her on the Stanford campus her junior year? From the beginning of their marriage?