The Baby Bet: His Secret Son. Joan Elliott Pickart

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go home, get some rest, Aunt Margaret. Uncle Robert is stable. I’ll call you if there’s any change in his condition.”

      “I can’t leave him, Kara,” Margaret said, fresh tears filling her eyes. “What if he woke up and I wasn’t here? No, I’m staying.”

      “You’ll need your strength to get through all of this,” Kara said. “I just spoke to Michael and he said he’d drive you home. Please. Take a nap for a few hours, at least. You can shower, put on clean clothes, have something to eat, then come back to the hospital. Come on. Michael is waiting for you.”

      “I wonder where Andrew Malone is right now,” Margaret said, “and how he feels about causing Robert to have a heart attack.”

      “Andrew is here at the hospital,” Kara said. “I’ve spoken to him, but he’s staying away from the family. He…he appears to feel very badly about what took place when he announced that he was Robert’s son.”

      “This is all so unbelievable,” Margaret said. “Think of what’s happened because of an article in a newspaper. This is a nightmare.”

      “I know,” Kara said. “But in all fairness, Aunt Margaret, I believe that when tests are run, we’ll discover that Uncle Robert had a problem with his heart long before tonight. I’m not defending Andrew Malone or what he did, but—”

      “I understand.” Margaret sighed as she nodded. “Several times during the past week I saw Robert rubbing his chest and asked him what was wrong. He said he was simply having indigestion from all the rich food we were eating during the reunion. We didn’t heed the warnings his body was giving us.”

      “Don’t dwell on that,” Kara said. “What’s done is done, and the important thing now is to see Uncle Robert through this. He wouldn’t want you sitting here totally exhausting yourself, Aunt Margaret. You know that.”

      “Yes, I know.” Margaret got to her feet, then leaned down to kiss Robert on the forehead. “I’ll be back soon, my love.” She straightened again. “All right, Kara, deliver me to my chauffeur. I’ll go home for a little while, but promise me you’ll call if—”

      “Yes, yes, I will,” Kara said, placing an arm around her aunt’s shoulders.

      After one last lingering look at her husband, Margaret left the intensive care unit with Kara. They walked down the quiet hallway toward the waiting room.

      “I have clothes here I can change into,” Kara said. “I just haven’t taken the time to do it. I can bunk in the residents’ sleep room, and I’ll leave instructions that I’m to be notified if there’s any change in Uncle Robert’s condition.”

      “It’s awfully good of you to spend the night here, Kara.”

      “I love Uncle Robert. Besides, since I’m on staff here, I’m the one who’s in the best position to do it. I don’t have any patients scheduled at my office tomorrow, either. Now all we have to do is convince the guys to go home.”

      “Have any of them spoken about the scene between Andrew Malone and Robert at the party before Robert collapsed?” Margaret said.

      “They haven’t said anything to me about it,” Kara said. “I know they all heard the confrontation because they were close by at the time, but they might very well be putting it on an emotional back burner for now and just concentrating on Uncle Robert. I really don’t know.”

      Margaret nodded.

      They entered the waiting room, and Margaret swept her gaze over the tall handsome men who rose immediately to their feet.

      Michael, Ryan, Forrest, John, Richard, Jack and Ted—she looked at each in turn. Even dear Ted had stayed because he considered himself a true member of their family. Such fine men they all were. She was so proud of all of them, loved them so much.

      And Andrew Malone? What words would those who knew him use to describe him? Was he honest, hardworking, a man of integrity and other admirable values? If so, how could he have come to that restaurant and done what he had with a clear conscience? What had he hoped to gain? Was Andrew really Robert’s son? And, dear heaven, if he was, how old was he?

      Margaret sighed and shook her head.

      Stop it, she admonished herself. She kept coming back to those frightening questions. She was so selfish, so—

      “Exhausted,” Michael said. “You should see yourself, Mom. You’re out on your feet. You and I are leaving right now.”

      “We’re all going home,” Margaret said, lifting her chin. “Kara is staying here and will telephone if there’s any change in Robert’s condition. You all need your sleep, just as I do. We have a long way to go before this nightmare is over.”

      “But—” Ryan started.

      “Don’t argue with me, Ryan,” Margaret said. “I’m in no mood for it. Just do as you’re told—all of you. Pretend that you’re as young as your children and that I’m in charge.”

      “She has spoken,” Forrest said.

      “Indeed I have,” Margaret said.

      “Hey,” Michael said, raising both hands as he frowned at the other men, “don’t look at me. Just because I’m the oldest doesn’t mean I’m willing to take her on when she gets like this.” He paused and his frown deepened. “Well, I think I’m the oldest.”

      “Don’t go there, Michael,” Ryan said, narrowing his eyes. “Not now.”

      “No, not tonight,” Margaret said. “The issues raised by Andrew Malone will be addressed when Robert is able to explain what we need to know.”

      “Well, Mom,” Forrest said, “for what it’s worth, we figured out to a point who Malone is.”

      “What do you mean?” Margaret said.

      “We’ve had a lot of hours to sit here,” Forrest said. “We were talking earlier, and Michael and I thought the name Andrew Malone sounded familiar, that the guy even looked like someone we’d seen before.”

      “And?” his mother said, hardly above a whisper.

      “It finally hit us,” Forrest went on. “He’s Andrew Malone of Malone Construction. He’s built quite a few projects from plans we drew up. I even talked to him last year on a site. He’s from Santa Maria, but his outfit works all over the state, and he’s got a top-of-the-line reputation.”

      “He’s also a nutcase,” Richard said, frowning. “He’s Uncle Robert’s son? Give me a break. He’s after something. Money, probably.”

      “He doesn’t need money,” Ryan said. “Ted and I ran a check on him through our resources at the police department. Malone is well-set financially, and is squeaky clean as far as the law goes. I guess I should have told you that earlier, but we were all walking on eggs around the subject of Malone and what he accused Dad of. I don’t know what Malone wants, but I’ll find out. Oh, yeah. Guaranteed.”

      “Ryan MacAllister,” Margaret said, “you are not to do your macho cop thing with Andrew Malone. This will be handled in a mature and nonviolent manner. Am I making

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