Nathan's Child - By Anne McAllister Page 0,34

met Molly McGillivray one day when he’d needed some work done on his boat’s motor.

Lacey had said she knew who could fix it—and had taken him to see a girl she’d introduced as Hugh’s sister.

Nathan had hardly believed it. Hugh had dark hair and blue eyes and was, even Nathan had to admit, pretty damned good-looking. The girl he’d met had carrot-red hair, freckles enough for a dozen Irishmen, and looked like a seventeen-year-old boy! She’d been wearing cutoff jeans, a baseball cap, and a T-shirt advertising a bar. With a smear of grease on her cheek and a wrench in her hand, she looked like a poster child for Tomboys R Us.

She’d fixed his engine in no time flat.

Now he said, “How many sisters does McGillivray have?”

“Just Molly.”

Nathan had been afraid of that.

But Doc Rasmussen nodded. “Let’s get her in the car. Call Molly and tell her we’re coming. Maurice, you can drive us.”

Nathan would have objected, but Carin, of course, was already trying to rise on her own, with Doc doing his best to support her.

Nathan stepped in. “Here,” he said and scooped Carin into his arms before she could protest. “Open the door, Maurice.”

Carin was still trembling as, slowly and carefully, Nathan carried her to the car and eased her into the front seat. He felt a shudder run through her before he got her settled. “You okay?”

She nodded shakily. Her head fell back against the head-rest and she closed her eyes for a brief second before opening them again and meeting his gaze. “Yes. Thank you.”

“No thanks necessary,” Nathan said gruffly. “Doc can ride with you. I’ll take my own car.”

“You don’t need to come,” Carin said quickly. “You need to be here. For Lacey. She’s out fishing with Lorenzo and Thomas. Of course you know that. You set it up.” She sounded aggrieved.

Nathan wasn’t going to get into that with her now. “I’ll see you at McGillivray’s.”

“Lacey—”

“Lacey will be fine.”

She woke up in the hospital.

At least she supposed she was at the hospital.

She felt dazed and fuzzy-minded and her mouth tasted terrible. She looked around. She was in a private room, which didn’t seem right. There was no way she could afford a private room. Even dazed and confused, she knew that.

She moved her gaze slowly—it was almost the only thing she could move—trying to take it all in.

Her arm was in plaster halfway to her elbow. There were ominous metal screws sticking out of the plaster. One leg was raised on pillows. Her hands were bandaged. Her lips felt cracked. There was something stuck to her cheek. Every muscle in her body hurt. Even when she blinked, she could feel it.

“Look who’s awake.”

Her head jerked around and she almost screamed at the pull of the muscles. And very nearly screamed again at the sight of Nathan, unshaven and bleary-eyed, standing over her.

“Wha-what are you doing here?” Even her throat hurt. Probably because they’d stuck some tube down it while they had her knocked out.

“Watching you.”

“Well, don’t.” If there was ever a time she didn’t need him around it was now. She knew she sounded petulant and probably even childish. “Just let me alone.”

“Thought you might like to know how Lacey is.”

Her gaze snapped back to him. She started to sit up. “What’s wrong with Lacey?”

“Nothing’s wrong with Lacey,” he said quickly, his tone soothing. “You were worried when we left, so I thought I’d stay around and let you know she was fine. I figured you’d want to know.”

“Yes. Of course. Thank you. Where is she?”

“At Maurice and Estelle’s. Hugh will bring her by later.” His jaw tightened briefly. “We ran into him at the airfield and he insisted on coming to the hospital with us. When you were out of surgery, he flew home. He’ll tell Lacey.”

“And he’s bringing her?”

“Later today. And he’ll take her home again.”

Knowing that Lacey was all right eased Carin’s mind. That didn’t help, though, when it came to her arm. She looked at the cast with the pins, and then at her leg. “What did they do to me?”

“Rasmussen called in an orthopedic surgeon, who set your arm. He put a couple of pins in it, said it would heal faster that way. Your ankle is sprained. X-rays came back negative for breaks on that,” Nathan reported. “You’ve got some abrasions. Lots of grit in your skin. They picked that out while you were unconscious.” He nodded at her face and at her gauze-wrapped hands. “It should heal