When Hearts Collide - By James, Kendra Page 0,17

Kathy in the book, but only one Katherine, a Katherine Nesbitt. Molly wished there was someone else to make the call. She took a deep breath and dialed the number.

“Katherine Nesbitt, how may I help you?”

“Mrs. Nesbitt, this is Molly Tanner. Are you Pearce Taylor’s mother?”

“No. He is not my son.”

Molly closed her eyes and tried again. “Is Pearce Taylor your son-in-law?”

“What is this about? Who are you?”

Molly clenched the receiver until her knuckles turned white. “My name is Molly Tanner. I’m a nurse. He was in an accident last night.”

She heard the sharp intake of breath. “What type of accident?”

“His car hit a tree. He’s at the Middlesex Hospital, in the intensive care unit.”

There was silence on the other end, and Molly rushed on, “He’s doing okay. They had to take him to the operating room to stop the abdominal bleeding. He has a broken leg. That’s been fixed.”

“Who are you?”

“My name is Molly Tanner. I’m a nurse. I work at Saint Christopher’s. I was driving by and stopped to help.”

“What is the doctor’s name?”

Molly’s fingers shook as she dug a piece of paper out of her jeans. “Doctor Summerville.”

There was a click, and the line went dead. Molly held the receiver in the air for several seconds.

What now? My only contact for the child, and she’s hung up on me.

Chapter 4

That went well. Now what?

Molly flipped through the address book again. There were a lot of names, but nothing identifying whom they belonged to. Which one should she call? She could close her eyes and pick one at random. Surely Mrs. Nesbitt would call right back. She was in shock. She would think for a few minutes, then call back, wondering what had happened to her granddaughter. She would ask if the little girl had been involved in the accident, and then she would make all the necessary arrangements for Pearce and Gracie.

But the phone didn’t ring. And the doorbell didn’t ring. The house was silent, save for the chatter of a small child. A child who right now was calling her name.

“Molly Mommy, I need you.”

Molly’s return phone call to the grandmother would have to wait.

In the kitchen, Gracie was pulling open cupboards. Molly saw the child’s plate, where only crumbs of toast remained. “Are you still hungry?”

“I want cereal.”

Well, that’s easy enough. Pulling two bowls off the shelf, Molly poured out cereal and sat down at the kitchen table with the child.

Breakfast was over. Now what? The phone had not rung, and Molly’s return call had been met with a crisp female voice message. Had the grandmother raced to the hospital to be with her son-in-law?

Molly looked at her temporary charge. Peanut butter coated several of her fingers and circled her mouth. Obviously, the first job was to clean up the child, get her dressed, and be ready for her grandmother’s arrival.

Did Pearce Taylor have a housekeeper? From the look of his organized, but functional, desk, he didn’t appear to be a neat freak. Gracie had said her mother was ‘gone,’ so who kept this place so clean? Whoever it was, Molly prayed they’d show up soon and rescue her. She tidied up the remains of their breakfast and wondered how to entertain Gracie until help arrived.

And where was the grandmother? Molly looked at the clock. She and Gracie had dawdled over breakfast and the cleanup. Almost an hour had passed, yet the phone still had not rung. How far away did the woman live? Had she fainted in shock and been unable to call back, or had she rushed to the hospital?

Molly needed information. She needed answers. All she had got out of Pearce last night was that he didn’t have a wife and Gracie didn’t have a mother. But was he divorced, a widower? It was plain and simple biology, the child had to have had a mother at some point. But what had happened to her? The last thing Molly wanted was to get in the middle of a bitter custody dispute.

The man had suffered a head injury. He might have amnesia or delusions. She had no idea if anything he told her the previous night was based on reality–except for Gracie. He had known her name, and his concern for her was appropriate. She was obviously his daughter, that much seemed to be true, but other than that, she knew nothing about him or his situation. All Gracie said was her mother was gone. Gone could mean anything to the child–gone away