One Night in Texas. Linda Warren

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One Night in Texas - Linda  Warren


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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.


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