The hospital wasn’t large, but from what Tara saw as she followed her sister, it was clean and modern.
Lauren turned into a hallway marked Maternity and stopped when she saw the waiting room full of people.
“Em, are you all right?” she exclaimed, rushing over to a woman in a navy blue maternity dress. “We were going for a walk when I saw Trent’s truck outside.”
“Nothing is wrong,” Emily assured, patting her rounded tummy. “Alaina went into labor. The whole family gathers for stuff like this. Isn’t that wonderful?”
Lauren nodded fervently.
Tara wasn’t sure what she’d expected of her sister’s oldest friend, but while Emily Hawkins wasn’t a raving beauty, she was pretty and positively glowed as she hugged the arm of a tall, handsome man who had to be her husband. A strange envy went through Tara when she saw the tender way he looked down at his wife.
Recalling that Josh McGregor was a member of the family, Tara scanned the room and saw him in a corner, his hand elevated, with what appeared to be fresh blood on the bandage. Curious, she went over and saw the wrapping was no longer pristine white, but dingy from a lot more than the hamburger sauce she’d seen him spill on it. Undeniably, there was fresh blood, as well.
Josh’s mouth tightened at her obvious interest, but he stood nevertheless. Certain age-old male courtesies were alive and well in Schuyler, Montana—cowboys tipped their hats and men stood in a woman’s presence.
“It looks as though you need another lecture,” she said softly.
Beyond a set jaw, Josh didn’t react.
A youngster sitting nearby was staring at Tara in fascination. “Golly, you do look like Lauren,” she declared, then cocked her head. “But in a way you don’t, only I’m not sure why.”
“DeeDee, at least introduce yourself before spouting off,” scolded a woman with auburn hair. She stood and smiled at Tara. “I’m Kayla McGregor, and this is my daughter, DeeDee.”
“It’s nice to meet you. I’m Tara Livingston.”
“Why isn’t your name Spencer, like Lauren?” DeeDee asked.
“Because Lauren was adopted by the Spencer family and they changed her name,” Tara explained, hoping the youngster wouldn’t ask more questions. She didn’t enjoy thinking about her childhood or telling people that she’d never been adopted. Instead, she’d grown up in foster homes until she’d aged out of the system at eighteen. The situation wasn’t unusual, but when you were a kid, hoping for a family of your own, it was hard not to wonder if something was wrong with you rather than understand that some people were reluctant to adopt older children.
Across the waiting room Lauren was talking to a man dressed in surgical scrubs; a moment later she hurried toward Tara. “Everything is going well with Alaina,” she said.
A perverse mood nudged Tara. “Mr. McGregor’s hand might be the exception.”
“I’m fine,” Josh snapped.
“Really? I could swear that’s fresh blood. But since you’re at a hospital, I’m sure you can get help if you need it,” she added, mindful that her sister was off duty.
Lauren immediately turned to Josh. “Let me check it for you. I can probably get supplies from the emergency room.”
His head shook once in a definitive rejection. “You said there would be drainage, and that’s all this is.” Yet he flinched in obvious discomfort as he shifted his arm.
Lauren hesitated as she looked at the grubby bandage. “Uh, Josh, you need a clean dressing at the very least, and if you’re in excessive pain, you could have an infection.”
“I’m just, uh, late with a pain pill, that’s all. I’ll put a fresh wrapping on it later.”
His tone made Tara wonder if there was more to the story, but maybe she’d prodded him enough. She wasn’t even sure why she had done it the first time, unless it was the universal impulse of poking a sleeping snake to see if it was alive...and seeing how quickly you could jump out of striking range.
“Okay,” Lauren said, though she didn’t sound convinced and shot another worried glance at the filthy bandage.
It was curious that she wasn’t being more forthright, but on the other hand, Josh McGregor did the tough he-man thing so well, it would take someone far more self-assured to challenge him. Besides, he hadn’t come for follow-up medical care; he was just waiting for his sister to give birth.
Lauren crossed the room to speak with someone else, so Tara decided to prod Josh a little further, after all.
“Personally,” she said, “even if the inside is okay, which I doubt, the outside of that bandage looks like something from a horror film.”
That was when he turned and stalked out of the room.
Tara stood back and waited as her sister made the rounds of the waiting room, then became aware of an older man a few feet away. His head was cocked as he stared at her.
She smiled. “Hi, I’m Tara Livingston.”
“Nice to meet you. I’m Walt Nelson. You, uh, remind me of my wife when we first met—beautiful and sassy.”
“I...have a feeling you just gave me a lovely compliment,” she answered. No one else was paying any attention to the two of them and there was a strange air of intimacy, even in the midst of the group.
“Yeah, but don’t let it go to your head.”
An instinctive liking for the elderly man washed over Tara. “I’ll do my best,” she promised. “I do records management, so I’ll just file it under Compliments to Be Ignored.”
Walt leaned back in his chair and she realized he seemed tired and frail.
“Records management,” he murmured. “That’s interesting.” That was all, and after a few moments, he appeared to be growing drowsy, so she shifted the other direction so he wouldn’t feel he had to continue talking.
Aside from that brief, odd interchange, Tara felt more out of place than the first time she’d landed in a foreign country. Still, there was something pleasant about the atmosphere in the waiting room, everyone showing up to welcome a new baby.
Family, an inner voice whispered.
A familiar ache went through Tara, but she refused to poke that spot; her own life was just fine being traveled solo.
* * *
JOSH TRIED NOT TO glare at Tara Livingston as he returned to his chair with a cup of coffee from the vending machine; someone might notice and he didn’t want his foul mood to become the subject of a family discussion. However, it didn’t stop him from deciding that Tara was an annoying termagant—an old-fashioned word he’d picked up from Grandma Evelyn. But the term fit Tara, who was so unlike her sister. Lauren, with her friendly nature, had quickly found a home in Schuyler. Perhaps that was the pot calling the kettle black, considering his own short fuse the past few months, but there was no denying that Tara had a sharp tongue.
Now that he wasn’t being taken by surprise, he saw fewer and fewer similarities between the two women. There was a superficial likeness, but their personalities were completely different. Even their clothes were distinctive—Lauren wore a loose dark blue sweat suit, while Tara had chosen formfitting jeans that showcased every delicious curve. As for her snug designer T-shirt...? It reminded him that she was remarkably well built.
“Hello. You’re obviously Lauren’s sister.” His mother’s voice intruded into his thoughts. Always gracious, she’d come over to introduce herself. “I’m Sarah McGregor, and you must be Tara. How nice of you to come with Lauren to check on Emily.”
“Not