Thomas Randall. The Thomas Randall? The name conjured up a big, black hole in Blake’s heart. His father had mentored Thomas Randall, but he’d died young, much to his father’s grief. In Dr. Crawford’s eyes, Tommy had been the son Blake would never be. And now that his father was gone, Blake would never have the chance to prove otherwise.
He squeezed the bridge of his nose. How could Tessa give away his child to Thomas Randall? All work and no play left no time for any family time. No matter how many times Blake had begged his father to play ball with him or come to one of his games, his dad was too busy helping others.
Resentment, anger and disappointment fought for dominance. Blake didn’t know what type of mother Elizabeth was, but his daughter would not suffer the same lonely existence he had. With Thomas Randall dead, Jordan needed a father.
And not just any man that Elizabeth might be involved with. Jordan needed her real father. Now.
“Are you okay?” Eric’s question brought him back to the present.
“Thanks for the info, I’ll see you around.” He strode to the door and shot his friend a quick smile as he marched into the hallway, determined to find Elizabeth Randall.
* * *
Her shift over, Elizabeth wanted to grab a quick bite before she went upstairs to visit Jordan. As she headed out the E.R. doors, her head down, she crashed into someone.
“Oh, excuse me,” said a warm, masculine voice.
“No, excuse me. My fault. I wasn’t looking where I was going.” She looked up and found herself face-to-face with Blake Crawford. He was better looking than she’d remembered. His short, cropped brown hair accented the smooth planes of his cheeks and his strong jawline covered with a hint of a five o’clock shadow. Dimples creased his cheeks and laugh lines crowded the corners of his eyes despite the fact that he wore a frown.
“Blake?” Jordan’s father was on the receiving end of her inability to stay focused on her surroundings. Not good. As a doctor, she needed to be aware of what went on around her. What if she screwed up in triage? What if she made a life-threatening mistake?
Jordan’s health had started to affect her ability to remain calm and composed. Wouldn’t the head nurse love to see unflappable Dr. Randall right now? Her skin prickled. The anxiety she felt when she first held the tiny infant in her arms almost ten years ago resurfaced. At that time, though, she’d had Tom to help her. Was it possible that Blake Crawford could fill in and take over the role of father like Jordan wanted?
There could only be one reason why Blake had come today: to confront her. He must have found out the truth about her part in the adoption, and he’d come to try to take Jordan away. She’d fight him every step of the way.
“I’m thirsty. Care to join me?” Not giving her a choice, Blake took her arm and led her into the cafeteria.
Five minutes later, after grabbing their food, Blake spoke her name as if testing it out. “Elizabeth Randall. Sorry to hear about your husband.”
“You knew Tom?”
“Only by reputation.” His words had an edge to them.
“Thank you.” Elizabeth wished she was privy to whatever thoughts or ideas whirled around inside his brain. Everyone liked Tom. To her knowledge, her husband had never caused that type of reaction before.
“So what kind of doctor are you?”
His question surprised her. “A pediatric emergency room doctor.”
After sending up a quick, silent prayer of thanks for her meal, she bit into her sandwich, not surprised it had no taste. None of the cafeteria food really did.
“So you only help kids.”
“Yes, unless I happen to be the only doctor available.” Pain radiated from Elizabeth’s core. While she helped others, Jordan’s cure remained out of her reach, and it killed her to watch the leukemia gain an upper hand. She had to have faith that God knew what He was doing. Maybe bringing Jordan’s father into her life could tip the scales in the right direction. She noticed Blake eyeing her, as if sensing her inner turmoil.
“That must be a tough gig.”
“It has its moments, but it’s also very rewarding at the end of the day.” Dragging in a ragged breath, she prayed for strength to get through the rest of the night. Jordan’s fever had broken late this afternoon, but she wasn’t out of danger.
A family of four helped themselves to food from the vending machine stationed near the rear of the cafeteria. The girl, dressed in basketball attire, looked to be a few years older than Jordan. Would her daughter ever be healthy enough to play sports or visit with her friends? Yes. Elizabeth would make certain that happened. The leukemia would go into remission again, and Jordan would grow up and become the veterinarian she wanted to be.
“So can you help Jordan?” Questions filled his blue eyes and held her in her seat.
“I’m not sure I know what you’re talking about.” Elizabeth fought to breathe. What did Blake know about Jordan?
“Really? You have nothing at all to tell me about my daughter? Like that she’s sick?”
Elizabeth felt the blood leave her cheeks. Lightheaded, she reached out for the table, but her hand connected with the Blake’s. “Who told you?”
Blake ignored her question, taking her hand. “What’s wrong with her?”
She tried to extricate herself from his grasp. He only tightened his grip.
“Jordan has leukemia. It’s come out of remission.”
“Leukemia?”
“Yes.” Elizabeth’s voice trembled, leaving the rest of the sentence unspoken. She closed her eyes to avoid the pain written in his.
“Since Tessa was a part of Jordan’s life, she knew about it, didn’t she?”
Elizabeth nodded, remembering how despite her own pain, Tessa was there right after they learned of Jordan’s relapse. Her friend had been there for her until the end.
“So that’s why she said my daughter needed me.” Silence filled the space between them.
Grief, anger and regret sucker punched Blake in the gut. Rubbing his eyes, he leaned back in his chair to distance himself. His daughter was dying. He had yet to meet her and he could lose her, too. A renewed sense of urgency took hold. “When do I get to meet Jordan?”
Elizabeth toyed with the straw in her coffee, avoiding his gaze.
“Elizabeth? She’s the last of my family. I have every right to meet her. It’s what Tessa wanted. It’s what I want.” Blake squeezed her hands. When she gazed up at him, her light blue eyes shone with fear. In a heartbeat, Blake understood.
She was afraid of losing Jordan. Not only to the leukemia ravaging her body, but to him.
A commotion caught Elizabeth’s attention and she stopped one of the E.R. staff as they strode by. “What’s going on?”
“Accident. Five on their way in. Three kids.”
“I’ll be right there.” Half-finished cups of coffee and sandwiches were the story of her life, only this time she was glad to leave it behind. Elizabeth’s heart raced. She wasn’t on duty, but she knew her services would probably be needed for a few hours. She’d make sure to see Jordan before her bedtime.
She rose hastily, scraping the chair on the tile. The lights seemed to grow brighter, magnifying the man next to her. She couldn’t avoid Blake’s request for long. What if Marcella was right? What if the adoption wasn’t legal? What if Blake met his daughter