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The Man Must Marry
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Текст книги "The Man Must Marry"


Автор книги: Джанет Чапмен



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Текущая страница: 13 (всего у книги 14 страниц)

“Angel Cakes!” Phil sputtered. “Ain’t nothing angelic about lobsters. They’re one of the ugliest creatures God ever created.” He reached over and turned the pad to see for himself. “Why, this isn’t a lobster dressed like an angel, it’s a kid.” He pushed the pad back. “What’s a half-naked, fat little kid got to do with lobster cakes?”

“He’s not a kid, he’s an angel. And if you weren’t so tight with your dollar and would go to the doctor and get stronger glasses, you’d see that he’s eating the lobster cakes.” She flipped to the next page. “Or we could make it look like the cakes themselves are angels. See, I put wings and a halo on this one.” She smiled at Sam expectantly. “What do you think of my ideas?”

Sam picked up the pad and studied the labels, flipping to the first page and then back to the second. His first thought was that he was going to have to apologize to Willa. He could see now how her seniors had completely usurped her authority, since his own little gang had certainly taken over his idea to open a business.

Yesterday morning, on the way to the warehouse he hoped to buy, he’d found out that Sean Graves had already negotiated the price with Avery Ingall the night before, over beers at Avery’s home. Sean probably got the property for a lot less than Sam would have, but he’d been looking forward to going up against one of these Yankee traders.

Then, yesterday afternoon at the auto dealership, Phil Grindle had grabbed Sam by the arm and dragged him away—twice—from the deal he was being offered. Who knew there was so much negotiating room in the price of an automobile?

Apparently, Phil did.

Just how was he supposed to tell an eighty-year-old grandmother he really wasn’t all that enamored with angels?

“Sam. Sam!” Phil said, his voice rising along with the force of the smacks he was giving Sam’s arm.

“Willamina’s out there pacing back and forth. If you don’t want to spend the day bailing her out of jail, you better get out there before she works up the nerve to come in looking for you.”

“Oh, heavens.”Doris gasped. “She’s not allowed in here, Sam. If she steps one foot inside that door, it’ll cost her seven hundred and forty-three dollars.”

“And sixty-four cents,” Phil added.

Sam tore his gaze from Willa, who had stopped pacing and was now eyeing the door handle. “Why?”

“She broke a few things last time she was here,”Doris said, pushing Sam to his feet. “The owner said he wouldn’t press charges and she wouldn’t have to pay for damages if she promised never to come in here again.”

Sam headed for the front door but stopped when he saw Barry Cobb reach around Willa and open the door for her. The man then placed his hand on her back and ushered her inside, completely ignoring her protests.

Sam heard several gasps behind him, and all conversation suddenly stopped. Barry Cobb spotted Sam, and he grabbed Willa by the wrist as she tried to scurry around him and dragged her toward an empty table in the front window.

Sam walked back to his gaping seniors.

“You just gonna let her sit there with that gangster?” Phil asked in disbelief when Sam sat back down. Sam didn’t know who had started the rumor that Barry Cobb might be tied in with the mob. He picked up his cup of coffee, took a sip, then smiled at his table mates. “I’m curious to see what might happen,”

he said, glancing toward Willa’s table.

She was standing now, darting glances toward the back of the diner, then whispering something to Cobb. Cobb still had hold of her wrist, trying to get her to sit back down.

“Here comes trouble,” Avery said, and Sam followed his gaze toward the kitchen. Trouble appeared to be a rather large man wearing a tight white T-shirt and a dingy white apron, standing in the kitchen door, glaring at Willa. Sam took another sip of his coffee, noticing that every last person in the diner had gone silent except for Barry Cobb.

“Oh, come on, Willa,” Cobb scoffed, holding her wrist. “They can’t stop you from coming in here; this is a public diner.” He leaned forward, still not realizing he had an audience. “Will you relax? I’m glad I ran into you this morning. I want to ask if you’ll go to the dance at the high school with me tonight. We could have dinner in Ellsworth first, if you’d like.” He smiled. “I’ll even buy you a corsage. What color dress will you be wearing?”

Sam smiled. Whatever the color, it would definitely be wrinkled.

“Willamina Kent !” a gruff, challenging voice called from the back of the diner. “You’d better have your purse with you!”

Barry Cobb finally shut up. Willa took advantage of his being distracted by the man walking toward them and jumped to her feet to dash for the door.

Cobb also stood, blocking her way. “Excuse me?” he said to the man, pulling Willa against his side. “Is

there a problem?”

The man, obviously the owner, pointed at her. “She owes me seven hundred forty-three bucks and sixty-four cents.” He turned the hand he was pointing at Willa palm up. “And if she doesn’t give me every last penny, in cash, in exactly one minute, I’m calling the sheriff.”

“Sam, do something!”Doris hissed, pushing his arm and spilling his coffee. “You need to save her!”

He looked over atDoris . “Don’t women today prefer to save themselves?”

“That is a crock of shit,” she snapped. “We still want to know we can count on a man in a crisis. This is your chance to prove what a good husband you’ll be.”

Sam blinked atDoris . Had she just said what he thought she had? He looked back at Willa, realizing she hadn’t spotted him yet. He stood up and sauntered over to stand beside the owner, who was still holding out his hand, apparently expecting it to fill up with money in the next thirty seconds.

“You carry that much cash on you, Cobb?” Sam asked, stifling a grin when Willa gasped. She tried to wriggle away from Barry again, but he merely pulled her closer.

“I’m not paying this man anything,” Barry said, looking from Sam to the owner’s outstretched hand.

“Not even to save your girlfriend from the sheriff?” Sam asked. “She’s going to look awful funny wearing a corsage in jail.”

“Butt out, Sinclair,” Barry snapped.

“Ten seconds,” the owner growled. “Martha!” he hollered over his shoulder. “Start dialing nine-one-one!”

Surprised that Willa still hadn’t done or said anything, Sam let out a loud sigh and reached back for his wallet. “Never mind, Cobb. I’ll get this one. You can bail her out of the next mess she gets herself into.”

Willa went from zero to sixty in one second flat. “You’re not getting one stinking dime, you greedy man!

It wasn’t my fault the last time, and it’s not my fault this time, either!” she yelled, shoving Cobb toward the owner, making them both stagger into a nearby table. She grabbed Sam’s hand and headed for the door. “Come on!” she shouted over the roaring laughter of the patrons. Willa pulled him onto the sidewalk, then suddenly stopped, undecided which way to run. Sam headed to their right, turning the corner at the first street they came to. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his key fob, hitting the unlock button as they approached his truck.

“Hop in,” he said, running to the driver’s side. She climbed in beside him and snapped her seat belt. Sam quickly snapped his own belt, looked over his shoulder, and pulled out onto the narrow lane. “Which way?” he asked. “We can’t go to your house. That’s the first place the sheriff will look for you.”

“Turn left up ahead,” she said a bit breathlessly. She suddenly laughed. “Oh, my God, did you see Craig’s face?”

“Craig?”

“The coffee-shop owner. Craig Watson.” She snickered. “I wonder what outrageous price he’s going to come up with this time. I didn’t even break any dishes today. Did you see me break any dishes?” she asked, batting her lashes at him.

He smiled at the gleam in her eye, then turned left at the first road he came to. “Nope, I didn’t see you break anything. I did see Cobb bump into a table and break some dishes, though.”

She giggled. “I’m trying to picture myself sitting in jail wearing a corsage.” She sighed. “I guess dinner and dancing is a no-go now.”

“Unless you wouldn’t mind if I stood in for Cobb,” he said with a smile, puffing out his chest to better his chances. “I’d be right honored, Ms.Kent , if you would let me take you to the dance this evening.”

She giggled again, then suddenly pointed. “Here! Turn left here. This is Route One, and it’ll take us toward Prime Point. I know a secluded beach we can go to.”

That sounded promising. “Mind telling me why Craig Watson says you owe him seven hundred and forty-three dollars?”

“And sixty-four cents,” she tacked on. “Um, a few dishes might have gotten broken the last time, but Craig started it.”

“And you were just an innocent bystander? Did anyone else get banned from the diner?”

“No. I was the only one in the diner with Craig at the time. His wife, Martha, had just left for the night.”

“You were alone with Watson?” The man didn’t look like anyone he’d want Willa to be alone with. Ever.

“I wanted to talk to him in private.”

“Why?” he asked, sensing a community-crusader story coming on.

“Craig had just purchased the diner about four months earlier, and he wasn’t…um, he wasn’t doing things the way the previous owner had.”

“I don’t suppose he was obliged to.”

She turned in the seat to face him. “Okay. Let me tell you about Gertrude, so you’ll understand. There used to be a little old lady named Gertrude Bliss who lived in town. She was ninety-four, she lived alone in her big old house, and all she had for income was a small social security check. Gertrude also had six cats. They were all the family she had, and they meant the world to her, even if she could barely afford them.”

“Let me guess. You paid for their upkeep.”

“I took them to the veterinarian for her and paid for the visits. And the previous diner owner always saved a small bucket of clean food scraps for them. Gertrude would walk to the diner and pick up the scraps every morning, along with her cup of hazelnut coffee. When Craig bought the diner, he started charging Gertrude for the scraps, claiming it caused him a lot of extra work to sort them out. He also charged her for the coffee.”

“And you decided to have a little talk with Watson to get him to give Gertrude the food for free.”

“Well, yeah. Gertrude was a very proud woman, and she didn’t want anyone in town to know how destitute she was. Her husband hadn’t planned properly for their retirement, likely because he hadn’t expected them to live so long. When he died five years earlier, they were already down to just their social security. But when a husband dies, his check stops coming, and a surviving wife is left with only her check, which is usually only half of what his was if she never worked outside the home.”

“So you confronted Craig Watson about charging Gertrude for the scraps. How did it escalate to broken dishes?”

“When he wouldn’t agree to stop charging her, I might have threatened to tell all his customers what a rat he was. But I was bluffing, because that would mean embarrassing Gertrude.” She gave him a furtive glance, then looked out her window. “I accidentally knocked over a stack of plates sitting at the edge of a shelf.” She looked at Sam, her chin raised. “I wave my hands sometimes, when I get worked up about something.”

“You knocked over seven hundred dollars’ worth of plates?”

“The plates might have hit a couple of turkeys he had thawing on the counter, and they might have fallen into a sink full of soapy water.” She waved her hand in the air. “I don’t remember, exactly. But I’m betting Craig still served those turkeys the next day, even though he added them to my bill. He probably tacked on a few other things, too. I didn’t exactly stick around to take inventory.”

Sam was trying so hard not to laugh that his side started to ache. “Okay, then,” he said, forcing a straight face. “Would you like me to talk to Watson about the table scraps?”

“It’s too late; Gertrude died six months ago. I took in her cats, but four of them died of old age soon after. The other two were fairly young, and they’re living at Grand Point Bluff with Ida Bates,Shelby ’s mother-inlaw.”

“What happened to Gertrude’s home, since she didn’t have any family?”

“She left it to the local humane society.”

“Good for her. So back to tonight. Will you do me the honor of going to the dance with me, Willamina?”

“That depends.” She looked down at her lap. “If you still want to after we talk…then yes, I’ll go to the dance with you.”

Sam frowned. “What’s bothering you, honey? Why did you come to the diner looking for me this morning?”

He never heard her answer, only her blood-curdling scream when an oncoming delivery truck suddenly swerved into their lane and slammed into them head-on.

Chapter Twenty

Willa refused to openher eyes. She’d spent the last hour being poked and prodded, and she couldn’t remember ever hurting so much. Even her hair hurt. “Hey, sweet thing. Open your eyes for me.”

The voice was smooth and cajoling and belonged to the person who’d done most of the prodding since she’d arrived at the hospital. Willa slowly opened her eyes to glare at him and blinked against the brightness of the room.

His blurred silhouette moved over her, putting her eyes in shadow. “Chinablue—beautiful. I’ve always had a thing for blue eyes. I know you’re disoriented and would probably like to tell me to go jump off a pier, but we’re done messing with you for now, I promise. Let’s recap, shall we?” he said, his smile bright. “I’m Dr. Zeus, and you’re in my ER atBerryBayHospital . Can you tell me your name?”

It came rushing back to her in a vivid flash. The truck coming toward them, the deafening sound of impact, the airbag exploding in her face. Then the jolt sideways, another equally violent stop, her arm exploding in pain, her screams lost in the sounds of screeching metal and shattering glass. She was also pretty sure she remembered telling at least three people her name, including Mr. Happy Face here. “S-Sam,” she said, her throat feeling as if it was on fire.

“Sorry, wrong gender. Try again,” he said. “Can you tell me your name?”

Willa strained to swallow. “Sam! S-Sam !”

“I believe one of the men brought in is named Sam,” a female voice said to her right. “Malcolm is with him.”

“I’ll make a deal with you, Blue Eyes. I’ll have Mary go check on your boyfriend if you tell me your name.”

“Willa.”

“Okay, Willa. Do you know why you’re in my ER?”

“Car crash.”

“We’re on a roll. You don’t look like you’re actually focusing on me, though. What color are my eyes?”

“Green.”

His smile widened. “You don’t happen to have a thing for green eyes, do you? Wait, I’ll turn down these lights,” he said, suddenly disappearing.

The pain in her forehead eased when the bright lights dimmed.

“You were involved in what should have been an unsurvivable crash, according to what the EMTs said when they brought you in,” he explained, his voice moving back toward her. “They suspect what saved you was the size of your vehicle and its extensive airbag system.”

Willa concentrated on making him come into focus. “Sam?”

“Mary’s checking. Ready to hear a list of your booboos?”

“Water.”

“Definitely doable. Here, this should help your throat.”

A bent straw touched her lips, and Willa took a sip, carefully swallowing several times.

“Speaking of which,” he continued, “your throat hurts because your seat belt gave you quite a bruise. The belt also bruised your left breast and hip. You have a slight concussion, but it’s not as worrisome as it could have been. God bless those side-impact bags.

“Your right side, most specifically your wrist, took a bad hit when a tree decided your truck had gone far enough. That’s going to require a little visit to the OR, which is where you’re heading in about half an hour. We’re waiting for the surgeon to arrive.” His smile flipped upside down. “They don’t let me play with the really sharp knives; I only get to stick you with pointy things.”

“My legs hurt,” she said, the water having soothed her throat enough for a complete sentence.

“I’m getting there, Willa. Your knees and especially your ankles took a beating, which is typical in head-on collisions, because you automatically brace for the impact. But you were wearing some rather heavy-duty work boots for a babe, so nothing down there is broken. You probably won’t be jogging for a while, though.

“As for your insides, everything’s right where it should be. You’ve got a couple of cracked ribs that are going to hurt like the dickens for a while, but your spleen, kidneys, liver, and other important parts all appear to be happy and healthy.” He touched her hair, and his smile returned, crooked this time. “Don’t scream when you look in the mirror tomorrow, okay? You’re going to have one hell of a shiner, and there are cuts and other small bruises, all minor.”

He straightened and took hold of her left hand, being careful of the IV in the back of it. “There is one thing that I’m a bit concerned about, so I’ve called in someone to have a look-see. Are you aware that you’re pregnant, Willa?”

She blinked at him.

“Just barely, though. About two or three weeks, near as I can tell,” he continued. “But I’m not an expert on female plumbing, so I’ve called in an OB-GYN to check you out before you head up to the OR.”

She couldn’t have spoken if her life depended on it.

“If that handsome hunk of a man next door is yours,” a female voice said, walking up to the bed on Willa’s right side, “I don’t blame you for calling out for him. If he were mine, I’d be shouting his name every day and twice on Sundays. I’m Mary, and I’ll be your in-flight attendant until we hand you over to the OR jocks.” She touched Willa’s shoulder. “Sam’s well enough that they’re threatening to strap him down if he doesn’t quit trying to come find you. I assured him you’re doing just fine, but I don’t think he believed me.” She looked over at the doctor. “Could we let them see each other? It’ll make our girl here feel better, and I know it will make Sam a whole lot easier to deal with.”

“I’ll go talk to Malcolm,” he said, heading out of the room.

“Dr. Seuss?” Willa called out.

He stopped and turned, letting out a heavy sigh. “It’s Zeus , as in the handsome, powerful god.”

“Sorry,” Willa said, darting a glance at Mary, then back at him. “Um, what you told me about…about my condition. Can we keep that just between ourselves?”

He placed his hand over his heart. “Don’t worry, it’ll be our little secret.”

Mary lightly patted her shoulder. “Sorry, but I’m one of the players here, too. I ran your pregnancy test.” She brushed Willa’s hair back. “Try not to worry, honey. I’m sure your baby is just fine. I know it’s no fun being in an accident, but now you’ll be able to remember this day as when you found out you were pregnant. Congratulations!”

Willa closed her eyes. “Thank you,” she muttered.

Sam remained sitting on the gurney, refusing to lie down. He was so scared he was shaking and so angry he was one second away from punching Malcolm in the face. “You let me see her for a few minutes,” he ground out, “and then I’ll go to X-ray. I have to be with her, to calm her down. She doesn’t like hospitals.”

“If she was any calmer, she’d be in a coma,” a man said, walking into the exam room. He came up to Sam and gave him a quick visual assessment. “Sam, I presume? I don’t know why you’ve got all the women in a dither. You look like hell.”

“Who the hell are you?”

“Dr. Zeus. I’m tending your lady friend.”

“Tell this bastard to let me go see her.”

Dr. Zeus looked at Malcolm. “Is there a reason you haven’t stuck him with something to knock him out?”

“I did. He’s overriding it.”

Dr. Zeus looked back at Sam. “You are exactly why I always call first dibs on the women. I tell you what, Sam. You give me your word to cooperate with Malcolm when we get back, and I’ll take you to her.”

“I want to sit with her for a while.”

“She’s going up to the OR in half an hour. I’ll give you until then.”

“She needs an operation ?”

“Her wrist is broken. We’re waiting for the surgeon to arrive.” He went to the corner of the room, got a wheelchair, and brought it back. “Your word, Sam.”

“You’ve got it,” Sam said, sliding off the gurney. His knees nearly gave out on him, but he grabbed the arms of the wheelchair and gingerly sat down, stifling a groan when he thought his ribs were going to rip through his sides. “Is she awake? Does she realize where she is and what happened?”

“Nothing inside her head appears to be scrambled; she’s awake and talking.”

Dr. Zeus wheeled him out of the room and down the hall a short distance. The chair stopped in front of a door, and the doctor stepped around to face him. “A word of warning, Sam. She’s probably feeling as bad as she looks, but you both must have had angels sitting on your shoulders during that crash. The medics showed me digital photos of your truck. But other than the wrist and a lot of bruising, she’s pretty much intact. So don’t flip out on me when you see her, okay?”

“I won’t.”

Zeus started to step around to the back of the wheelchair, but Sam grabbed his sleeve.

“Will the operation make her wrist as good as new?”

“That will depend on whether there’s nerve damage.”

“Thank you,” Sam said, resting his hands on his lap.

Zeus grabbed the back handles of the wheelchair and spun Sam around, opened the door, and backed him into the room before wheeling him up to the gurney Willa was lying on. Sam smiled at her, even though he felt like crying. She looked so beat up, so hurt . And so very, very fragile. “Hi,” he whispered, reaching out and taking her hand in his, resting them on the blanket so she wouldn’t feel how badly he was trembling.

“Hi,” she whispered in a raspy voice, her eyes drinking him in. “You don’t look any worse than you did when you stepped off the RoseWind .”

Relief bubbled up in the form of a chuckle. “My side of the truck didn’t slam into a tree.” He lifted her hand to his mouth and kissed her knuckles. “I’m sorry, Willa,” he whispered, closing his eyes and holding her fingers against his lips. “I am so damned sorry.”

“Um…for?”

He took hold of the rail on her gurney and stood up. He leaned over her as far as his ribs would let him and feathered his fingers over her cheek, the only place that didn’t appear bruised. “I’m sorry for damn near killing you. I tried to veer right to take the blow to my side, but I wasn’t quick enough.”

“From what I saw, you did a smashing job, Sam,” Dr. Zeus said, appearing on the other side of the gurney. “And your truck did its job protecting you. The angle of impact crumpled the front driver’s side nearly to the firewall. Our girl here wouldn’t have gotten a scratch if the impact hadn’t pushed you into that tree.”

The doctor ushered the nurse to the door. “We’ll be close by. If you need anything, hit the button marked Help,” he instructed, gesturing toward an array of buttons on the wall over Willa’s head. Willa lifted her left hand to touch his face. “Are you really okay? Nothing’s broken?”

“It feels like everything’s broken.” He very carefully leaned down and kissed her lips. “Don’t get mad,”

he whispered close to her mouth. “But I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

He pulled away slightly and smiled. “I know.”

“You do?” she squeaked, her eyes widening. “How do you know?”

“I saw it in your eyes last night, in front of the fire. Why do you think I rushed us into the bedroom? I was afraid you’d panic and send me away, so I decided to keep you…um…occupied.”

She sighed heavily, her gaze locked on his. “I didn’t want to love you, but it snuck up on me when I wasn’t looking.”

“God, Willa,” he breathed, touching his nose to hers. “I nearly lost you. I am so damn sorry you got hurt.”

“Quit apologizing,” she rasped. “And sit down before you fall down.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he said, kissing her nose before he carefully lowered himself into the wheelchair. He slid his hand, palm up, under hers lying on the blanket. “Is that why you were looking for me this morning? To tell me you love me?”

She gingerly turned her head to look at him, giving a slight wince. “I was actually coming to ask you to help me with Jennifer.”

“Don’t strain your neck,” he told her. “I can hear you just fine when you’re looking up. What’s the matter with Jen? Did the boy back out of their date tonight?”

“No,” she said, closing her eyes. “Jen came down to the cottage this morning, and…and we talked.”

“About?”

“Can you reach that water on the table?”

He could reach it, but he had to stand up again to hold the straw to her mouth. The whole thing took several minutes to execute, and Sam sat back down with a sigh of relief. “Did they give you something for the pain?” he asked when he realized whatever they’d given him was starting to make him dizzy.

“I’m fine, Sam. I want to tell you about Jennifer before she and Shel and Emmett get here. It’s important.”

Sam hadn’t even thought about anyone else, but he realized next-of-kin must have been called by now. He should call his brothers, maybe while Willa was in the operating room. “What did you and Jen talk about this morning?” he asked, sliding his hand under hers again.

“About her resenting me,” she said, staring up at the ceiling. Tears welled in her eyes.

“Jennifer doesn’t resent you, honey.”

“Yes, she does, because I’ve ruined her life. First by mangling her foot so badly they had to cut it off, then by making her feel guilty about it.”

“Aw, honey.” Sam stood up again to cup her face. “You did not ruin Jennifer’s life. I’ve gotten to know her pretty well these last couple of weeks, and that girl has everything going for her.”

“Except for not having a right foot,” Willa whispered, more tears leaking out. Sam brushed them away. “She doesn’t seem to realize it’s missing,” he said, straightening to give his ribs some relief. “Jen’s fine, Willa. She’s okay right now, and she’s going to be better than okay in the future.”

“Will…will you help me convince her of that? I need to find a way to tell her she shouldn’t feel guilty about me and that she has to go after her dreams.”

“I’m not sure telling her will do anything to change her mind, honey. I think you’re going to have to show her.”

“But how?”

He ran his thumb across her cheek. “By forgiving yourself , Willa,” he whispered. “You can’t spend the rest of your life beating yourself up with guilt and not expect it to affect everyone who loves you. I know it’s hard, honey. I have a nasty case of the guilts myself right now.” He took as deep a breath as his ribs would allow. “I pretty near killed you.”

“The accident wasn’t your fault.”

“Neither was yours.”

“Yes, it was. I wasn’t paying attention. I was upset because I’d just walked in on David and another woman. And I had my eleven-year-old niece with me at the time. Jen saw them, too.”

Sam realized she was getting upset, which was the last thing he wanted. “How about another sip of water?” he asked, picking up the plastic cup. “Damn, it’s empty,” he said, looking around the two-bed exam room. There must be a sink on the other side of the curtain. “I’ll be right back,” he said, shuffling away.

His IV tube brought him up short, and he set the cup on the wheelchair seat, then wheeled the chair around the curtain.

He had just reached the sink when he heard the door open. “Okay, Miss Kent ,” an unfamiliar voice said, moving toward Willa. “I’m Dr. Blaine, the OB-GYN Dr. Zeus called in.”

Willa gasped, and Sam went perfectly still.

“I understand congratulations are in order,” the man continued. “You just relax, and we’ll see how the little tyke is doing before you head upstairs. Dr. Zeus is guessing you’re only two or three weeks pregnant. Is that about right?”

Sam felt very dizzy all of a sudden and sat down in his wheelchair. Willa was two weeks pregnant ?

“There’s been some sort of mix-up. I’m not pregnant” she said. “Sam? Sam! I’m not pregnant!”

“Sam?” Dr. Blaine repeated in alarm. The curtain was suddenly drawn back, and a man dressed in a camouflage hunting shirt glared at him. “Shit! I didn’t know anyone else was here!”

Sam looked at Willa, who was staring up at the ceiling, blinking tears back furiously. “Shit,” Sam echoed, standing up to go to her. His IV fetched him up again. “Damn,” he yelped, and ripped it out of his hand.

“Hey!” Dr. Blaine stepped toward him just as the door opened again.

“I didn’t see you head in here, Ken,” Dr. Zeus said, skidding to a stop and taking in the scene. “Shit!” he said, rushing over to Willa. “I got called to Exam Room Three and didn’t get a chance to warn him your boyfriend was in here,” he explained. “I’m sorry, Willa. I screwed up.”

“I’m not pregnant.”

“My test said you are.”

“I’m not pregnant!”

“Okay, okay. We’ll run it again.”

“I can’t be pregnant,” she said. “I had my tubes tied four years ago.”

All three of them stared at her in silence.

Dr. Blaine finally cleared his throat. “Yes. Well,” he said, walking over to her. “I’m afraid tubal ligations don’t come with guarantees, Miss Kent . There’s a one-in-two-hundred chance that your tubes might not have stayed tied. There’s also a chance the pregnancy is in the fallopian tube, and, well, ectopic pregnancies aren’t viable,” he said softly. He touched her shoulder. “Let’s rerun the pregnancy test, okay? Then we’ll know what we’re dealing with.” He turned to Sam. “Would you be the father?”

“If she’s pregnant, yes, I’m the father.”

Blaineturned back to Willa. “You’re too early along to see if the baby is in the uterus, but we need to know if you are pregnant before you go up to surgery.”

“Can…can we have a minute alone please?” she asked.

“I’ll give you the time it takes to run the pregnancy test again,” Dr. Zeus said. “Because the OR team is in place now, waiting for you.” He looked over at Sam. “And then I hand you back to Malcolm. I sure wouldn’t want to be you when he sees you’ve pulled out your IV.”

When the door closed behind them, Sam walked over to Willa. “You had your tubes tied four years ago?” he asked gently. “Why?”

“I was crazy with grief over what happened to Jen,” she whispered to the ceiling. “And I was going through my divorce.” She lifted her left hand to wipe her eyes and finally looked at him. “And I was so scared of ever having my own children and having something happen to them that I started searching for a doctor to tie my tubes. I went to nine before I found one inBoston who would do it. The others


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