One Night in Texas. Linda Warren
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“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.