“I thought you’d change your mind.”
“It didn’t happen.”
“So I should start seeing other men.”
“It wouldn’t be a bad idea.”
“Okay.” Again a frosty pause. “I’ll think about it,” she said.
“Do.”
“And you, too, Thorne,” she said with a renewed amount of spunk. “You think about what you’re giving up.” She hung up with a click and he replaced the receiver slowly, wondering why he didn’t feel any sense of loss. But then he never had; not with any woman. Not even with Nikki way back when, and she’d been the most difficult. But he hadn’t trusted her with his heart and when it came time to take off for law school, he’d left Grand Hope, his family and Nicole Sanders and never once looked back. Until now. While away at school, whenever he’d thought of her, which was often at first, he steadfastly turned his mind to other things. Eventually he’d quit thinking about her altogether and he’d lived by the axiom that women weren’t a priority in his life.
But now, as he stared out the window into the dark, wet night, he felt a change inside him, a new kind of need. He reached for the phone as it rang again sharply.
Annette. He should have known she wouldn’t give up without a fight.
“Hello,” he said, as the receiver reached his ear.
“Thorne? This is Nicole.” Her voice was cold and professional.
He knew in a heartbeat that Randi’s condition had worsened. Fear clutched his heart and for the first time in his life he felt absolutely helpless. Oh, God. “It’s my sister,” he stated.
“No. Randi’s still stable, but I just got a call from the hospital because they couldn’t get through to you—your line was busy.” Nicole hesitated a beat and before she got the words out, Thorne experienced an anguish the like of which he’d never felt before. He sagged against the wall as she said, “It’s the baby.”
Chapter 5
“What about him?” Thorne clutched the receiver in a death grip. His heart thudded in dread. For the love of Mike, how could one little baby, Randi’s son whom he’d never even held, make such a difference in his life?
He heard the back door open and Matt, unbuttoning his sheepskin jacket, strode in. “Slade’s still—”
Thorne silenced his brother with a killing glance and a finger to his lips.
“What about the baby?” he repeated, bracing himself and he saw Matt’s dark complexion pale.
“He’s lethargic, experiencing feeding problems and respiratory distress, his abdomen is distended, his temp has spiked—”
“Just cut to the chase, Nicole. What’s he got? What went wrong?” Thorne was pacing now, stretching the telephone cord as Matt’s eyes followed his every move.
Nicole hesitated a beat and Thorne found it hard to breathe. “Dr. Arnold thinks the baby might have bacterial meningitis. He’s going to call you later and—”
“Meningitis?” Thorne repeated.
“No way!” Matt broke his silence.
“How the hell did that happen?”
“When Randi came into the hospital, her membranes had already ruptured—”
“What? Ruptured?”
Matt swore under his breath, then looked up, his gaze locking with that of his older brother. “Let’s go,” Matt said. “Right now. To the damned hospital!” Thorne cut him off with a quick shake of his head. He had to concentrate.
Nicole was talking again—her voice calm, though he sensed an urgency to her. “Her water had broken in the accident and there’s a chance that there was contamination, the baby was exposed to some source of bacteria.”
“This Dr. Arnold? Is he there? At the hospital now?”
“Yes. He’ll call you with more information—”
“We’re on our way.”
“I’ll meet you there,” she said as he slammed the receiver down.
“What the hell’s going on?” Matt demanded.
“The baby’s in trouble. It doesn’t sound good.” Thorne was already striding to the front hall where he yanked his coat from a hook and shoved his arms down the sleeves. Matt was right on his heels. The two men half ran to Thorne’s truck, but before he climbed into the passenger side, Matt said, “Wait a minute, I’d better tell Slade that we’re on our way to the hospital—”
“Make it fast,” Thorne ordered, but Matt was already running toward the barn. He disappeared inside. Thorne jabbed his key into the ignition, the truck roared to life and he glared at the barn, willing his brother to return.
Less than a minute later Matt, head ducked, holding on to the brim of his Stetson, dashed through the rain. Thorne was already throwing the pickup into gear by the time Matt opened the door and slid inside.
“He’s gonna follow us.”
“Good.”
Thorne stepped hard on the accelerator, though he didn’t know why. The urge to get to the hospital, to do something pounded through him. What had gone wrong?
Rain poured from the sky and the twin ruts of the lane glistened in the glow of the headlights as water spun beneath the tires.
“Okay, now what happened?” Matt demanded, his face tense in the dark interior.
“Something went wrong.”
“What?”
“Everything.” Thorne squinted against oncoming headlights, shifted down and turned onto the main road cutting through the pine-forested canyons and rolling acres of farmland surrounding the Flying M. In clipped words, Thorne repeated his conversation with Nicole.
Matt’s jaw clenched. “Why was Nicole the one who called? Why not the pediatrician?”
“He couldn’t get through, but I’ll have more phone lines installed. Tomorrow. And I’d asked Nicole to phone me if there was any change. She said Dr. Arnold would call us, but I’m not going to hang around and wait. I want answers and I want them now.”
The ranch was nearly twenty miles from town. Thorne pushed the speed limit and the truck’s tires sang against the wet pavement.
They arrived at the hospital in record time. Thorne was out of the truck like a shot. Matt kept up with him, stride for stride. They sprinted across the dark parking lot, flew through the automatic doors of the lobby, then took the stairs two at a time to the second floor.
This time, Thorne didn’t allow any nurse to tell him what
