Drive-By Daddy: Drive-By Daddy / Calamity Jo. Patricia Knoll

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СКАЧАТЬ the down button. And fought the fire of need that burned at his insides like a hot branding iron. He needed to leave the woman alone. He needed to take his silly Elliott love-at-first-sight heritage and get on back to Montana. If he had a lick of sense he’d do that. But he couldn’t. There was more here at stake than love. There was honor. He’d been raised to believe in the cowboy code…a life saved was a life owned. Darcy and her baby were now his responsibility in ways her husband probably wouldn’t understand.

      But whether or not the man understood didn’t change anything for Tom. Because together, they…he and Darcy…had brought a new life safely into the world. And that new life was now his duty, too. Not just duty, either. The silly thing, the most surprising thing to Tom, was how proud he was of his part. How close he felt to that baby girl.

      Son of a gun. If this wasn’t instant heartache, then Tom didn’t know what was. A new mother and her baby. He shook his head. He hadn’t been able to think about anything else since yesterday. How afraid and yet brave Darcy’d been. How tiny and fragile the baby’d been. Tom grinned now, thinking of this morning’s business meeting. More than once the bankers and developers had asked him if he was okay. He’d said yeah, that he was just tired. Then he’d asked them to repeat everything. And all because a dark-haired beauty had filled his thoughts and distracted him. He’d seen that she was a pretty woman, even despite her ordeal. Good bone structure. Nice, even teeth. Long legs. Clear eyes. Lots of curly, glossy hair that spoke of health.

      The elevator bell finally dinged. The doors slid open. The car was empty. Tom stepped inside, managing…despite being flower-challenged…to press L for the lobby. When the doors closed and the elevator car began its quick trip down three floors, Tom suddenly realized he’d described Darcy in terms of a healthy horse. A booming laugh spilled out of him…just as the elevator reached the busy lobby and the doors opened.

      All heads turned Tom’s way. He instantly sobered, clearing his throat and managing to glare as he crossed the lobby and went out into the Arizona heat…trailing pink, blue and silver balloons and streamers.

      Fortunately, the ride out to Buckeye wasn’t an overly long one, once he cleared noontime Phoenix traffic. If it had been, the pink, blue and silver balloons and streamers…which kept floating over into his line of vision in the truck’s air-conditioned cab…would have found themselves ornaments for the prickly saguaro cacti that dotted the sandy landscape. And the accompanying roses would have made a ready dinner for the Gila monsters. But as it turned out, Tom, the roses, and the beautiful baby spray made it safely to the parking lot of the Buckeye Community Hospital.

      So far, so good. Tom opened the white truck’s door and squinted against the heat that poured in waves over him as he scooped up the flowers from the seat.

      Hitting his remote lock button and then backing out of his truck, given his floral overload, he nudged the door closed with his foot and stepped up onto the sidewalk. Glancing toward the hospital’s exterior, he thought he saw a dark-haired woman, up on the second floor, quickly duck behind a curtain. Tom grinned…and wondered if the curtains would be closed in Darcy’s room.

      He walked through the hospital’s automatic front doors, took the elevator up to the second floor without asking—he just knew that’s where her room would be—and strode right up to the nurses’ station. Parting the flowers, he startled the red-headed nurse, who’d had her head bent over an open chart. “Oh, I’m sorry,” she said, laughing. “It’s not every day I see a walking flower shop wearing a cowboy hat.”

      Tom grinned. “I expect not. Uhm, I’m looking for Darcy—” All he knew was her first name. “Well, I’m looking for Darcy. She had a baby girl yesterday. In the back of my truck. I brought her in.”

      The nurse surged to her feet. “Ohmigod, you’re the Lone Ranger.” She looked him up and down. “I get it. The white hat. And you drive a white truck, right?”

      Tom started to answer, but was distracted by the number of hospital staff pouring out of rooms and crowding around him. Murmurs of the Lone Ranger and white hat and saved Darcy Alcott and her baby and it’s him swelled around him. Tom’s eyes widened. He leaned over the counter, toward the nurse. “Yes, ma’am, I drive a white truck. Isn’t that what you asked me?”

      “It sure is,” she said. “I can’t believe it, sugar. We’ve all been trying to figure out who you are.”

      Tom suddenly thought he knew how a young bull felt when it was sent alone into the auction ring for everyone to gape at and paw over. “You have?” he asked, his mouth suddenly dry.

      “We certainly have. Honey, you’re a hero around these parts. Just who the heck are you?”

      “Tom Elliott, ma’am. From Montana. Pleased to make your acquaintance. Now, would it be all right for me to see—” What had one of them said Darcy’s last name was? Then, and blessedly, it came to him. “—Mrs. Alcott, please?”

      “She went home already, mister.”

      The voice came from behind him. Tom pivoted to see a pretty Hispanic girl with a thick ponytail standing there. She smiled and repeated, “Mrs. Alcott already went home. She worked until 2:00 p.m. and then left for her bridge club meeting.”

      None of what this girl said made sense—even despite the corroborating nods and murmurs of the others with her. “Bridge club? She left for a bridge club meeting?” Then he focused on what else she’d said. “She worked today? But she just had a baby.”

      Tom suddenly wondered if he’d stepped into the psychiatric ward. Then one of the nurses cleared things up. “Mrs. Alcott is Darcy’s mother. She’s a volunteer here. You want Darcy…Miss Alcott. Well, Professor Alcott, actually.”

      Professor? Tom could only stare at her. What she’d said left more questions than answers. “I see. Well…Professor Alcott, then. May I see her, please?”

      “Oh sure, honey. Will you look at me—standing here jawing when I should be working.” She picked up a form of some sort and scanned it. “Let me check the schedule. Yep. Marty—that’s the neo-natal nurse—just picked the baby up and took her back to the nursery.” She put the form down and leaned toward Tom…conspiratorially. “We’ve got to keep a close eye on that baby—she’s already got a mind of her own, as I’m sure you know.” Then she straightened up and reached for the phone. “Just let me buzz Darcy’s room and see if she wants a visitor.”

      While they waited for Darcy to pick up, Tom stared at the folks still crowded in silent wonder around him. “Howdy,” he finally felt compelled to say. “How’re y’all doing?”

      Everyone nodded, said they were fine, glad to meet him, enjoyed the article in the paper about him, nice flowers, loved his white hat. Just as Tom was sure he’d be asked for his autograph, the nurse hung up the phone. “She says she’s decent. You can go on down.” She pointed to a hallway right in front of him. “Room 234. On your right.”

      Tom nodded his thanks. “I appreciate it, ma’am.” He turned to his crowd of admirers. “Good day to you.”

      They variously waved, said goodbye, and began to disperse. And Tom made his escape. Only to realize he might be walking into a bigger hornet’s nest than the one he’d just left behind.

      And it all had to do with Miss Alcott and her daughter, who’d apparently been born out of wedlock. While sympathetic to Darcy’s plight, and what the implications were for her, Tom still had to fight a silly grin that said there was hope. He had a chance.

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