Both men nodded and stood at attention as he got into the limo, neither daring to suggest that some things might be beyond James Adkins’s control. They weren’t sure anything was. Then they quickly scrambled after him, each one trying to enter first.
As the limo pulled out into traffic, James clenched his hands into fists. “If either one of you had convinced Caroline to marry him, she’d be home having a baby, like Chelsea, instead of running around having accidents!”
Both men protested their innocence, each assuring James he’d done everything in his power to court Caroline.
“Last night she really enjoyed herself,” Adrian added, shooting a smug look at Prescott. “We danced all evening.”
“Did you ask her?”
All three men knew what James was referring to. Adrian met neither of the others’ gazes. “No. Uh, the time didn’t seem right. But I’m sure she’ll accept when I do.”
Prescott snorted in derision, a knowing look in his eyes. James ignored both of them. “She’ll make up her mind soon. I’ve sensed a readiness to settle down. We’ll get her memory back, and then she’ll marry one of you.”
Neither of them argued with him. But then they never did.
“COME ON, MAX, give us a break. You’ve driven the entire crew like they were dogs the past few weeks. And they’ve done a good job. Let’s give them tomorrow off, let’m have a four-day weekend for Labor Day.”
Max Daniels pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes briefly. His foreman, Jim Swensen, hadn’t lied. He’d been a bear to work for, and he knew it. “Okay. That’s a good idea, Jim. Give’m Friday off.”
Jim slapped him on his shoulder. “Great. The guys’ll be glad to hear it.” He paused and Max tensed for what would come next.
“You still don’t want to talk about what’s buggin’ you?”
He offered a brief smile to compensate for his negative answer. “No. But thanks for the offer. I’ll see you on Tuesday.”
“All right, man, but if you need to talk—”
“I’ll know where to find you. Thanks, Jim.”
Max watched as his foreman, also his best friend, headed toward the group of workers putting away their tools.
Slamming the truck in reverse, he backed out of the makeshift driveway, wanting to get away before any of the men came over to thank him for the extra holiday.
He knew he didn’t deserve their thanks. He’d been impossible to work with for two months. No question. But he couldn’t explain to them that he’d fallen in love and been abandoned by the woman with no explanation, no goodbye. One minute, bliss, the next, hell. And he was afraid that he’d demanded company in his personal hell, from everyone around him.
Man, he had to get a grip on himself. He’d never thought a woman would send him into such a tailspin. He still didn’t understand why. She was beautiful, but he’d dated women more beautiful. She was intelligent, charming, but no more so than others. Her sense of humor delighted him, making him eager to share the events of his day with her, waiting to hear her warm chuckles. Her kisses—
A blaring horn reminded him the light had turned green and he stepped on the accelerator. Just as well. No sense following that line of thought.
He reached for the radio, seeking distraction. It was five after five and the national news had just ended.
“Now, in local news, Caroline Adkins, daughter of—”
Max almost drove off the road. Horns blared around him and the woman behind him sailed past, shaking an angry fist.
He pulled to a stop, reaching for the volume knob.
“…in an accident. A Memorial Hospital spokesman said she will be kept overnight for observation.”
Without considering the consequences, he swung the truck back on the road and did an illegal U-turn at the next intersection. In two minutes, he was pulling into the parking lot at Memorial Hospital.
Please, God, let her be all right.
And if she was, he was going to break her neck for running out on the best thing that had ever happened to him.
“DID CAROLINE ASK to see me?” Amelia asked as the limo pulled into the hospital parking lot.
James sighed with impatience. “I told you, Amelia, she’s lost her memory.”
“Yes, dear, but if she didn’t ask for me, I don’t see why I couldn’t have come after my meeting ended. Agnes told me I shouldn’t always do whatever you say, you know.”
James and his second daughter, Chelsea, groaned together. “That woman,” James said through gritted teeth, “never agrees with me.”
“Well, I know Caro didn’t ask to see me,” Chelsea said before her mother could respond. Her lips formed into a pout that seemed natural. “She never even calls me. You would think, now that she’s to be an aunt, that she would show some interest in my baby.”
“She told me last night how excited she was about your baby,” Adrian assured Chelsea hurriedly, as if hoping to stem her complaints.
“Really? Well, she should spend more time with me, then,” Chelsea said.
The limo pulled to a stop, and the chauffeur opened the door. All three men hurried out and then turned to help the two women.
“I think we should tell the doctor that I’m pregnant before I go into Caro’s room, in case there could be any danger,” Chelsea continued as they approached the front doors.
“Amnesia isn’t contagious!” James snapped. He’d silently endured the complaints of both women for the length of the ride, but he was anxious for word of Caroline.
He would admit, though not to Amelia and Chelsea, that Caroline was his favorite. Not that they didn’t fight. On the contrary, Caroline argued with him at every turn. She was too much like him not to.
Chelsea was like her mother.
“Chelsea!” someone called, and they all halted.
Chelsea’s husband, Roderick Grant III, hurried up to them.
“What are you doing here?” James demanded. He didn’t have anything against the boy, but Roddy wouldn’t be of much help in a crisis.
“Daddy! Roddy’s my husband!”
“I know that. I paid for that damned wedding, didn’t I?” He muttered an apology when Chelsea and Amelia stared at him in shock. “I’m worried about Caroline,” he added.
“Of course, you are, sir,” Adrian said, patting him on the shoulder.
“Why don’t we go right up,” Prescott added. “I’ll find out her room number.”
“I know it. It’s 482,” James snapped, and strode for the elevators, leaving his entourage to hurry after him.
When they reached the fourth floor, the nurse on duty ushered all of them into the waiting room. “The doctor is with her now. I’ll let you know when you can go in.”
“Damn it, woman, I’m James Adkins. You go tell that doctor I want to see my child at once!” As the nurse calmly walked away, he bellowed, “Why won’t any woman listen to me?
“CAROLINE ADKINS, where can I find her?” Max had no idea how he’d gotten from the road outside the site to the hospital information desk.
“Is she a patient, sir?” the grandmotherly lady in a pink pinafore asked, smiling benignly at him.