Lisa Jackson's the Abandoned Box Set (54 page)

BOOK: Lisa Jackson's the Abandoned Box Set
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“The one and only.”

“How'd you land that one?” Rick asked.

“Must have been that little sashay you took down Grizzly Loop,” Randy teased.

“Get a life, Randy,” Chandra said, refusing to be baited.

“And keep that rag that some people consider a newspaper out of my shop,” Rick ordered. “I'd just as soon wring Bob Fillmore's neck as say hi.”

Chandra spent the next hour stocking the shelves with supplies, then met her group of hikers and drove them to the foothills. They spent most of the day walking the trails that crisscrossed Rattlesnake Canyon. At noon, dusty and hot, they paused to eat at the river, then headed downstream until they'd circled back to the car. Clouds were beginning to form over the hills, and the temperature descended as she dropped her tired party off at the offices of Wild West.

For the next hour, she cleaned up and helped Rick close the shop before driving through town and along the road
that led to the hospital. At five-fifteen, she dashed up the stairs to the pediatrics wing and discovered Leslie Nelson at the desk. “Is he still here?” she asked without preamble, but she knew from Leslie's sorry expression that J.D. had already been released. Fear, cold as a night wind, touched her soul. What if things didn't go as planned? What if she never saw J.D. again?

Leslie sighed unhappily. “The caseworker—what's her name—Miss Sedgewick… She was here earlier with Sheriff Newell, and the baby was placed under his care. You know Lenore, don't you?” Chandra shook her head, and Leslie waved aside her doubts. “Well, she's just about the best person J.D. could be placed with. She
adores
kids, and since hers left home, she's been taking in strays, so to speak, kids with all sorts of problems—drugs, family breakups, abuse or runaways. She's one in a million.”

“I guess I should be relieved,” Chandra said. But she wasn't. She was used to finding J.D. here, and now things had changed. His little life was on its own path, out of her control….

“I think so, and I'm sure she'd let you visit J.D. as often as you want.” Leslie leaned over the desk and motioned Chandra closer, as if to tell her a secret. “Just between you and me,” she said confidentially, “it's a good thing he's been moved.”

“Why?”

“The press! Ever since that story came out in the
Banner
this morning, the phone's been ringing off the hook. Newspaper reporters from as far away as Chicago and Seattle trying to get more information. We're routing all the calls to Dr. Trent's office—he's the chief administrator—and we're not to talk to anyone about the baby.”

So the media circus had begun. Chandra's stomach turned over. “Is Dr. O'Rourke in?”

“He was in earlier—checked on a couple of patients, but I don't know his schedule.”

“Thanks, Leslie.” Chandra turned to leave as the phone at the nurses' station began ringing insistently. Walking on numb legs toward the wing that held the clinic and doctors' offices, Chandra hoped to find Dallas. She'd known the press would come sniffing around, of course, but she'd hoped the public wouldn't be interested.

Dallas wasn't in his office. The receptionist told her he'd be back within the half hour and that she could wait in the lounge. Chandra tried, but the chairs were too uncomfortable and her thoughts were whirling. What if the reporters started digging into her past? The headlines haunted her…

Local Doctor Accused Of Malpractice
By Young Patient's Parents
“My Boy Could Have Been Saved,”
Gordy Shore's Mother Testifies
Doctor Chandra Hill Pendleton Sued By Shores

* * *

T
HE HEADLINES HAD
kept coming. Doug's practice had been mentioned, as well as hers, causing a deeper rift in their marriage. Then some of Doug's patients had requested that their files be sent to other cosmetic surgeons. “This'll all blow over,” Doug had said, trying to console her, but he couldn't understand the pain and guilt she felt over losing a beautiful boy and suffering the hate of his parents.

No wonder she'd taken back her maiden name and left Tennessee with all its painful memories. Perhaps leaving Collier had looked like the coward's way out, but there had been nothing left for her in Tennessee: no medical practice, no friends, no husband and certainly no children. No, it had been better to make a clean break. And she was still a physician, though unlicensed in Colorado.

Face it,
she silently advised herself as she flipped through a dog-eared women's magazine that didn't hold her interest.
You're a lousy judge of character. You married Doug and became friends with Willa and Ed Shore. They all turned on you.

And now you're planning on marrying Dallas O'Rourke. Good Lord, Chandra, will you never learn?

Bored with waiting, she watched as the receptionist answered the phone and juggled appointments. When the woman's back was turned, Chandra slipped down the hall and pushed open a door with brass letters that spelled “Dallas O'Rourke, M.D.” Fortunately the door was unlocked, and Chandra, feeling just a tingle of guilt, rationalized her behavior by telling herself that she was about to become Mrs. Dallas O'Rourke. She needed a little information on the man.

The room was cluttered. A suede-and-leather jacket had been tossed carelessly over the back of one chair, and a tie dangled from the handle of the window. His desk was piled high with papers, though there did seem to be a few distinct piles, as if there were some semblance of order to the paperwork. Medical journals and encyclopedias filled a bookcase and laminated certificates were mounted over the desk. The view from his window overlooked a parking lot, and the two chairs angled near the front of his desk appeared seldom used.

A stack of mail was opened and strewed over the papers on the desk. As she quickly skimmed the letters and bills, her own name leapt out at her: “INVESTIGATIVE REPORT ON CHANDRA HILL.”

Chandra's insides froze and her heart turned to ice. Her throat worked, though she couldn't speak. Surely, she'd read the heading incorrectly! She skimmed the first page and felt sick. Dallas had been checking up on her? The tightness in her chest constricted a notch as she
sifted through the pages, obviously already read by Dr. O'Rourke. “Why?” she whispered. Why would he ask her to marry him and then check up on her? Or maybe it was the other way around? She found the postmark on the envelope. No. He'd only received this damned report today.

Her hands shaking, she dropped into a chair and began reading about herself, starting with her date of birth and her parents, and later, as they came along, her sisters. Her history inched its way through the pages, a listing of her accomplishments in elementary and high school, as well as in college and medical school. Even names of her friends were listed and those of a few of the men she'd dated.

Nausea churned in her stomach. Her life reduced to eighteen pages of a computer printout, including copies of the newspaper articles about her, her credit history, her health and her marriage and divorce from Doug.

Her stay in Ranger was tagged on at the end, listing Rick as her boss. The first story in the
Banner
about J.D., which had been published just last week, was the final entry.

“Oh, God,” she whispered, dropping her head into her hands. How could she ever face Dallas again? Mortified and furious, she clamped her jaw and bit down hard in order to get control of herself. She couldn't let him reduce her to the rubble she'd once been. Never again would she feel this way! She forced her pain to shift to anger. It wasn't hard. She was beyond furious. If and when she ever set eyes on Dallas again, she'd tear him limb from limb! Who did he think he was, sneaking around behind her back, digging up her life to file it neatly onto some private investigator's computer disk?

The door opened, and she twisted her head to find Dallas striding into the room. His eyes dropped to the
report in her hands and he sucked in his breath. “What're you doing in my office?”

Chandra stood slowly, dropping the report and pushing herself upright. He was standing in the doorway, his shoulders nearly touching the frame, his face unreadable.

She didn't care how big or intimidating he was. Rage scorched her blood. How could he—this man she'd planned to marry—do this to her? Inching up her chin, she picked up the horrid pages and waved the report in the air. “And what are you doing checking up on me?”

“You're supposed to wait in the lounge.”

“Stupid me! I thought being your fiancé gave me a few privileges.”

“Not snooping in my office.”

“But it's okay for you to snoop into my life, is that right?” She slapped the damned report onto his desk. “How
dare
you have me investigated like some criminal! Who do you think you are that you can open up my life and check me out? I thought—no, I hoped—you were above that sort of thing!”

A muscle in the corner of Dallas's jaw came to life, but there was no anger in his eyes. “What did you expect, Chandra?”

“Trust!” she shot back, and he winced.

“And I expected the truth, which you seemed to twist around to suit your advantage.”

“I did not—”

“You came waltzing in here with a baby whom you claim you've never set eyes on before and a load of medical knowledge. And you ended up turning this hospital upside down—”

“I've done no such thing!”

Dallas snorted, his face a steely mask. “You read the headlines today in the
Banner?

“Yes, but—”

“You see the picture?”

“What, exactly, is your point?” she asked, leveling a glacial stare at him.

“I just wanted to know whom I was dealing with.”

“Because you thought I might have stolen the baby, then, seeing he needed medical attention, brought him in here?”

“At first, yes, but—”

“Well, you're way off base, Doctor!”

“I know that now.” Unbuttoning his lab coat, Dallas dragged one hand through his thick hair. “But I didn't—not in the beginning.”

“And you check up on any person you've never met before?”

“Any person I think I might marry.”

She stiffened. Marriage? Now? After this damned report? She didn't think so. “When you ordered that investigation, you couldn't have had the faintest idea we might discuss the remote idea of wedded bliss!” She shook her head, disbelieving that their relationship had come to this. She was trembling inside, her breathing erratic, and she went to the window to open it a crack and let in some fresh air. “You really are a bastard, O'Rourke,” she said quietly.

A cold smile crept across his lips. “Coming from you, that's quite an indictment. Your résumé—” he motioned to the damning report “—is chock full of deadbeats. Especially your ex-husband.”

She felt as if she'd been slapped. “A failing of mine, I guess. I just can't say no when a real jerk asks me to marry him!”


You
asked me, lady. Not the other way around.” He flung the white jacket over an already crowded spoke of a brass hall tree before glancing at her again.

Chandra felt the color drain from her face. “You arrogant son of a—”

“Don't,” he cut in. “Let's not sink to name-calling.
Bastard
and
jerk
were good enough. I got the message.”

That was it. She'd had it! She grabbed her purse and started for the door. He reached for her arm, but she spun away from him.

“Chandra, wait!” Her hand was on the doorknob, and she, ignoring him, yanked hard.

With a curse, he slammed the door closed. “Don't go—”

She turned frigid eyes on him. “Don't you have some patients to see or, at the very least, some new person in your life that you can sic a private detective on?”

“There's only one new person in my life,” he admitted.

“Meaning me?” she spat. “Well, scratch me off the list. I'm not into the humiliation game, okay? I don't hang out with people who dredge up my dirt.” She sighed loudly, trying to rein in her galloping rage. With difficulty, she stared into his cobalt blue eyes—eyes that seemed to see into the darkest corners of her heart. “It's too bad, you know,” she said shakily. “Maybe if you'd grown up with a little love, if someone had cared for you, you'd know how to care back, how to treat people, how to—” She stopped suddenly when she saw the raw pain in his eyes. She knew then that she'd hit her mark, that she'd wounded him as deeply as he'd hurt her.

Stonily, he stepped away from the door. “I don't think we have anything more to discuss,” he said, his voice flat. He moved to the desk, snatched up the damaging report and held it out to her. “You can have this.”

Why did she suddenly feel like a heel? She was in the right, damn it! She snatched the report from his hands, but felt the overwhelming need to apologize. She knew she had a sharp tongue, but she didn't usually try to cut
someone she cared for so deeply. “Look, I'm sorry. That crack about your family—was…uncalled-for…”

“Don't worry about it.” He sat down in his chair and picked up the telephone receiver, staring at her impatiently, waiting for her to leave.

Sighing, she wadded up the damned report and tossed it into a wastebasket near his desk. “Can't we start this afternoon over?” she said, her fury spent.

“Why?”

“Because there's more to us than what's contained in some investigator's printout.”

He dropped the receiver. “Let's not delude ourselves, okay? What we've got is a baby—that's all. He's our one common bond. Unless you want to count sex.”

Swallowing hard, she glanced through the window to the traffic moving steadily in and out of the parking lot. He was right, of course. Though she'd like to think that love was involved, it wasn't. Love, as far as Dallas O'Rourke was concerned, didn't exist. She'd have to settle for this man who didn't love her, so that she could become J.D.'s mother.

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