and supportive in recent months. “We got Savannah’s discharge papers, and we’re just getting ready to leave the hospital now.”
“Oh, great, but...that’s not why I’m calling.”
Darby heard an odd note of apprehension in Jillian’s voice, and her gut immediately clenched. Bracing for bad news—God, she was tired of bad news—Darby said, “Go on.”
“Well, Dr. Reed asked me to call you about some rather confusing information we have regarding a potential donor for Savannah.”
Darby’s spirits lifted. “You have a potential donor?”
Hunter’s head jerked up, and she met his hopeful gaze as she listened to the nurse explain.
“Well...yes. Dr. Reed will call you later to tell you more about that, but...” Elation made Darby’s head spin, and her heart pounded so hard she almost missed Jillian saying, “But his test results show something that has Dr. Reed puzzled.”
“Puzzled? What’s wrong?” Like being on a roller coaster, her stomach swooped, her mood crashing from high to low again. Here we go. The bad news...
“The DNA tests that show that he is a strong candidate as a donor also say, with statistical certainty, that he is Savannah’s father.”
The air froze in Darby’s lungs. “Wh-what? That’s impossible. Connor is dead.”
Hearing his brother’s name mentioned, Hunter rose to his feet and hurried over to Darby, pressing his ear close as she tipped the phone for him to listen in.
“That’s what Dr. Reed understood from your records, which is why she wanted me to call. Are you sure about who Savannah’s father is? Is it possible this other man—”
“No! There was no one else. I don’t sleep around, if that’s what you’re asking.” Darby’s hand shook, and she dragged in a breath, trying to make sense of what the nurse was telling her. “Your test is wrong. This guy can’t be Savannah’s father. Connor Mansfield is Savannah’s father, and he died four and a half years ago.”
“Of course we can run the test again. Dr. Reed just wanted to double-check with you, in case maybe...”
“But if the test was wrong about him being Savannah’s father—” Darby held her breath, tears pricking her eyes “—does that mean it was wrong about him being a match for her, too?”
“We’ll have to see. It’s just all so odd, especially since he initiated contact with us about being a donor.”
Darby’s legs buckled. “He did?”
Hunter squeezed her arm, supporting her, but his own face was paler than normal.
“Who is this guy? Where is he from?” she asked.
“He’s from Texas, I think. Don’t worry, Dr. Reed will screen him and assess if he’s a nut job or if he’s truly a viable donor. In fact, she’s meeting with Mr. Orlean now, and she’s requested new tests, pending what she learns in her consult with him.”
Darby blinked. Shook her head as if she’d heard wrong. “Wait. What did you say his name was?”
“Sam Orlean. Why? Do you know the name?”
“I—maybe. It rings a bell but...” She fumbled through her memory. A classmate? A customer of Mansfield Construction? No. It was more recent. Darby looked at Hunter, and he shrugged and shook his head, silently denying any familiarity with the name.
She dredged up the call earlier in the week from her insurance company. Was that where she’d heard the name? She replayed bits of the call in her head, trying to conjure the man’s name. But other pieces of the conversation were what stood out.
Would her father have been a suitable match?
I’m sorry, Dahr-by.
“Connor,” she said under her breath, not daring to hope. And yet...
Her imagination raced, and just the possibility that Connor might still be alive made her dizzy with expectation. The need to know, the demand for answers pounded through her like a tribal chant. Connor. Connor. Connor.
“As soon as Dr. Reed gets out of her meeting with him, I’ll have her call you with—”
“Then Sam Orlean is still there, at your office right now?” Adrenaline made her pulse pound so hard in her ears, she could barely hear, much less think. Connor. Connor. Connor.
“He’s in with the doctor, discussing his test results and—”
“Don’t let him leave.” She squeezed the phone tighter and hurried to grab her purse from the chair by the bed. “Stall him. I’m on my way.”
“But—”
She hung up before Jillian could object and sent Hunter a pleading look as she rushed to the door. “Will you stay with her? I have to know.”
“Of course,” Hunter said, his expression reflecting his own shock and need for answers.
Darby jogged down the hospital corridor to the elevator. Dr. Reed’s office was in a medical building a couple blocks away. She debated taking her car but decided that by the time she got to the parking garage, dealt with traffic and red lights and parked again, she’d get there faster on foot.
On the elevator, she pushed the lobby button again and again as the car descended, as if it would make the elevator go faster. She knew better, but her nerves jangled, and she needed something to do until the doors parted at the lobby. Hiking her purse higher on her shoulder, Darby flew out the front door of the hospital and made a beeline for Dr. Reed’s office. She dodged people on the sidewalk, wove through cars to cross the street and took the stairs at the medical building rather than wait on another slow elevator.
By the time she raced through the door of Dr. Reed’s office, she could barely catch her breath. Though she’d run track in high school, she’d let herself get out of shape in recent months, while dealing with Savannah’s illness.
She approached the receptionist desk, panting. “Sam...Orlean? Jillian said...he was...here.”
The receptionist looked up and smiled at her, but when she saw Darby gasping for air and sweating, her smile fell away. “Um...he was here. But they just left.”
Darby’s whole body sagged, dejection sandbagging her. “He left? I told...Jillian to...stall....”
“Darby.” Jillian appeared behind the receptionist, frowning and shaking her head. “I tried to keep him here, but when I mentioned you wanted to meet him, he got agitated, and they left in a big hurry.”
She stiffened. “They? He had...someone with him?”
“Yeah. A big guy. Light brown hair. About fifty. Clean-cut and—”
Darby waved her quiet. “Never mind. How long ago did they leave?”
“They just did. Seconds before you got here. I’m sorry—”
Darby
