her hand from Michael’s fingers. “As a matter of fact, Mr. Fielding, she did have a few things to say about you. Except that she never revealed your last name—so you could have remained anonymous.” A rustle near the room’s entrance forced their heads around. Two nurses stood in the hall, chatting with a technician who was rearranging items on a lab cart. Faith knew at once that all ears were tuned to what was being said inside. Gossip lightened the tedious work at the hospital, provided a distraction from pain and death. In the past, Faith had been as big a participant as the next person. However, now that it involved someone she loved, she had second thoughts about the passing of possibly harmful rumors.
“Gentlemen, let me call Dr. Peterson and see if there’s a conference room available where we can talk with more privacy.”
Kipp buried his hands in his pockets. “I don’t see what there is to talk about. That baby boy is my son. He’s a Fielding. I intend to take steps to insure his birthright.”
“Now wait a damn minute.” Michael wrapped long fingers around Kipp’s jauntily striped tie. “Maybe you can’t add, Fielding, but I can. Lacy and I were still married in January. Those are my children she carried.”
A shrill whistle split the air. Both men swiveled toward the source. They gaped at Faith, who calmly removed two fingers from unsmiling lips. “Maybe you two don’t mind airing your dirty laundry in public. It so happens it’s my recently deceased sister you’re maligning. Have you no decency?”
Michael dropped his hand. “You’re absolutely right, Faith.” He cast a scowl at the eavesdroppers. “I agree we need a private place where we can settle this issue.”
Confident that she’d soon set both men straight, Faith went to the house phone and punched the hospital administrator’s number. “Dr. Peterson, please. This is Nurse Faith Hyatt. He phoned me at home earlier. I’m here in the hospital now.” She tapped her toe while she waited for him to come on the line. When she’d explained the problem, he told her the conference rooms were all in use but offered the use of his office. “Thank you,” Faith said. “We’ll be right down.”
Peterson brushed her effusive thanks aside. “It’s an honor to have Mike Cameron here. I’m on my way to the cafeteria. I’ll have them send over a tray of coffee. Oh, Nurse, when your business winds down, perhaps Dr. Cameron might take a moment to tour our new heart wing. His stamp of approval would be a boon to Good Shepherd.”
Faith sighed. “I’ll tell him.” She had no doubt he’d prefer a tour of the heart wing over a trip to the funeral home. Of course, she was probably foolish to even think Michael might ask to pay his last respects to his former wife. Hadn’t Lacy said Michael loved his work more than he loved her? If that was how things stood between them when they were married, why would he alter his attitudes after their divorce?
“Does Peterson have a room or not?” Michael spoke near her ear, making Faith jump.
“Um, yes. His office. He also said he hoped you had time to tour our new heart facility when we’ve completed our business.”
“Not today. Maybe later in the week. I’ll catch him and explain. Once we iron out this mess, I plan to spend an hour or so with my babies. And after that…” He swallowed. “Uh…if you have no objection, Faith, I’d like to see Lacy.”
His chin dropped to his chest and his eyelids closed, and she realized she’d misjudged him.
“Of c-course,” she stammered. Seeing Michael so emotional triggered her own bleak feelings again. “The service is tomorrow. It’s very small.” She named the funeral home. “Lacy didn’t have many friends left in Boston. Although…I’m not sure of that.” Suddenly flustered, Faith clasped her hands and frowned at her fingers. “Perhaps I should have an official funeral notice placed in the afternoon paper.” Peering up at Michael through her eyelashes, she asked him, “Were you aware Lacy had moved back to Boston?” Unexpectedly her eyes filled. She had to blink hard to contain the tears. “That’s another thing I don’t have any explanation for—why she didn’t let me know. It might have made a difference if she had.” A tear did creep out and slip down her cheek.
Michael gently clasped her upper arms. “Don’t beat yourself up, Faith. It’s taken me some time since she asked for the divorce to realize that Lacy always did what Lacy wanted, and to hell with how it affected others. I believe she planned this pregnancy from the getgo. It wasn’t accidental.”
Kipp broke into the conversation. “Look, I need to catch the three-o’clock shuttle back to New York. Do you suppose you two could take care of family business after we settle my parental rights?”
Faith felt like hitting his supercilious jaw. “I imagine your wife is expecting you home at the usual time. Does she have any idea where you are and what you’re doing, Mr. Fielding?”
“Wife?” Michael repeated, bristling.
The well-placed barb brought a wave of crimson to Kipp’s tanned cheeks. “Shelby doesn’t know yet, Ms. Hyatt. I assure you she’ll welcome the boy into our home once the details here are finalized and I have a chance to tell her. Shelby has wanted to adopt a child for some time.” Lowering his voice, he said hesitantly, “My father hasn’t favored adoption. He’s pressed for a blood grandson. And now he has one.”
Faith cocked her head to one side. “Lacy had twins, Mr. Fielding. A boy and a girl. You’ve only mentioned her son. But then girls can’t carry on the family name, can they?” she said coolly. In an even colder tone, she added, “Lacy’s son will never be Kipp Fielding IV if I have any say in the matter. And I have a lot of say.”
Michael stepped between the two combatants before Kipp could rebut. “Shouldn’t we go to Dr. Peterson’s office before we shed blood on this shiny tile?”
Faith clammed up immediately. She hadn’t intended to lose her temper. And she’d forgotten their audience. Aiming pointed glances at the bystanders still lurking in the hall, she squared her shoulders and marched past them. Michael and Kipp fell in behind her. Michael, though, paused at the nursery window and leaned his forehead against the glass. He cupped both hands around his eyes in order to see better.
“Lacy’s babies are in the premie unit,” Faith informed him stiffly.
Backing away from the window, Michael joined her. “The paper said they were approximately four weeks early. Are they well, Faith?”
Kipp halted midstride. “They are, aren’t they?” he demanded. “The article I read said the boy was under-weight.” He stuffed his hands into his pants pockets. “Lacy never told me she’d had organ transplants. Is there a possibility her son will inherit her medical problems?” he asked, sounding both worried and unsure.
Michael shot him an incredulous stare. “I’m a good surgeon, Fielding, but no one is that perfect at cracking open a chest. If you and Lacy got down to bare skin, fella, it’d be hard to miss her scar.”
A flush streaked up Kipp’s throat. He fingered his tie.
“Stop it, you two.” Faith pasted a smile on her face for the gray-haired woman seated behind a desk outside Dr. Peterson’s office. “The world doesn’t need to know all the sordid details of Lacy’s history. Both babies are in good health. Hal Sampson examined them. Michael, you remember him—he was pediatric chief when you were here.”
“Yes, I remember. Sampson’s top-notch.”
The
