A Hero To Hold. Linda Castillo

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СКАЧАТЬ foot of the bed, she made another notation. “How are you feeling physically?”

      “Sort of like I fell into a ravine and didn’t miss a single rock on the way down.”

      Dr. Morgan smiled. “Headache?”

      “Like there’s a guy with a jackhammer behind my right eye.”

      “I’ll order up some acetaminophen. You’ll need it for the next couple of days. You’re pretty bruised.” The doctor smoothed the sheet with her left hand. “Any nausea?”

      “A little. Is that from the concussion, too?”

      John didn’t miss the minute tightening of the doctor’s jaw. “Do you have any idea why you were up on the mountain?” she asked casually. “Or who you were with?”

      “No.” He could tell by the way Hannah shifted beneath the sheets that she knew it wasn’t a casual question.

      “Were you alone?” the doctor asked.

      The younger woman’s gaze swept to John. He looked from Hannah to Dr. Morgan, and realized belatedly the doctor hadn’t missed the silent communication that passed between them. “Could you step out of the room for a minute, John?” she asked.

      An alarm went off in the back of his head. Remembering the bruises—the undeniable marks left by a man’s fingers—he rose, trying not to think about how they might have gotten there.

      Taking a mental step back, he reminded himself he didn’t have anything at stake. After all, he didn’t get involved. Hell, he hadn’t even gotten too close to his teammates at Rocky Mountain Search and Rescue. So why was he finding it so difficult to walk out that door?

      “I’ve got to get back to headquarters,” he said.

      “I’d like you to stay,” Hannah said abruptly. “Please. I mean…if you…don’t mind.”

      Surprise rippled through him and landed with a thud in the pit of his stomach. He glanced over at the woman lying in the bed, felt the familiar tightening in his chest at the sight of all that red hair. He knew he should do the right thing and walk away. She didn’t need him. Of all the people in the world, John figured he was the last kind of man she needed.

      But he didn’t have the heart to leave her, not when she’d asked him to stay—and was now looking at him like he was her only friend in the world. Even John Maitland the Untouchable had his limits.

      Shoving his hands into his pockets, he shot her a grin, hoping it didn’t look as uneasy as it felt. “Sure thing, Red.”

      Hannah hadn’t intended to ask him to stay, but she was feeling scared and alone and the words had tumbled out before she had a chance to think them through. She knew it was unreasonable for her to ask such a thing. He was a complete stranger; he may not even want to stay. But unreasonable or not, the thought of him walking out that door, the thought of never seeing him again, filled her with a loneliness so deep it brought tears to her eyes.

      Her heart pounded as she watched Dr. Morgan move to the window and raise the blinds. Gray light slanted in from the overcast day beyond. Lowering her clipboard, she looked down at Hannah. “I’m sure you know those bruises on your neck and arms weren’t caused in the fall.”

      Tension snapped through Hannah’s body. Even though she’d expected to hear those very same words, the meaning behind them hit her hard.

      “Do you remember having an argument with someone?” the doctor asked gently. “Or someone hurting you in the past?”

      She reached deep for the memories, but even with desperation clenching her like a giant talon, her past remained a blank. “I don’t remember,” she said after a moment.

      “I know the chief of staff of the psychiatric department of Lutheran Hospital in Denver,” Dr. Morgan said. “Dr. Wu has done several studies on amnesia. I’ll give him a call if you like.”

      Amnesia. There was that word again. It rang inside Hannah’s head like the retort of a killing shot. “I’d like to see him as soon as possible. I need to know who I am, Dr. Morgan. I need to know what happened to me.”

      “I’ll brief him on your case.” The woman paused, then gazed at her over the tops of her bifocals. “There’s one more thing.”

      The tone of the doctor’s voice snapped Hannah’s head up. Next to her, John went very still. One look at the other woman’s face and Hannah knew this revelation was going to be a doozy. Like she needed one more heaped on top of all the others she’d gotten in the last hour.

      “I had some blood work sent down the lab when you were brought in,” Dr. Morgan said.

      “Blood work?” Hannah took a deep breath and braced herself, a thousand scenarios thundering through her brain. “Go ahead, Doc. Give it to me straight. I can handle it. What do I have? Cancer? A brain tumor?”

      “Nothing like that.” Dr. Morgan chuckled. “You’re pregnant.”

      Chapter 4

      Pregnant.

      The word reverberated in her head like the echo of a thunder clap. Hannah stared at the doctor, shock and disbelief punching her, stealing what little equanimity she’d managed to scrape together in the last hours.

      She was going to have a baby.

      She couldn’t believe it.

      How on earth could she be pregnant and not know how she got that way? Who had she loved enough to create a child? How could she be carrying a baby and not remember, for God’s sake?

      “Easy does it, Red.”

      Tearing her gaze from Dr. Morgan, Hannah risked a look at John. His guarded expression told her he was nearly as surprised as she. He shot her a smile, but for the first time since she’d known him, it didn’t look genuine.

      “It’s going to be all right,” he said.

      Swallowing the lump that had risen in her throat, she turned her attention back to the doctor. “I can’t be pregnant,” she blurted. “I’d remember something like that.”

      Dr. Morgan tapped her pen against her clipboard. “There’s no room for error. I checked the results myself. You’re definitely pregnant.”

      She stared at the doctor, torn between laughing herself into hysterics and crying herself dry. Stupidly she looked down at her abdomen. She didn’t feel pregnant. “Are you sure?” she asked.

      “I know news like this can be a shock—”

      “I wouldn’t call having a ten-ton boulder dropped on your head a shock exactly.”

      John cleared his throat. “In light of the hypothermia and the concussion, is the baby okay?”

      A jab of concern sent Hannah’s hand to her abdomen.

      “The baby is fine,” Dr. Morgan said.

      “But I fell…”

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