And Father Makes Three

“He just found out.”

“Do you suppose he knows something you don’t?” Marcella flipped open the tab of her diet soda, worry creasing her brow. “I mean, I know you won’t want to hear this, but are you sure the adoption was legal? I’d think he would have had to sign off on it, which means he knew about his ex-wife’s pregnancy. The fact he didn’t…”

Elizabeth inhaled sharply and opened her eyes. Ice momentarily chilled her veins. As if she didn’t have enough to worry about. She dragged in a painful breath as his last words rang in her ears. “I want my daughter!”

“Hey, I’m sure the adoption was legal.” Susie interjected. “You know this might work in your favor. A father without all the complications, and it would be nice for you to have someone else to help you through this.”

“Knights in shining armor only appear in fairy tales. I’d still make sure about the adoption. My cousin knows an adoption attorney—he handled their adoption last year.” Concern now laced Marcella’s voice as she ripped open a candy bar and popped a piece of chocolate into her mouth. “I’ll get Arturo’s work number for you unless you can track down the original attorney.”

“It’s probably not necessary, but thanks. I’d appreciate that.” Elizabeth toyed with the salt and pepper shakers on the table to keep her fingers from trembling. Every once in a while—like today—memories of the day she adopted Jordan haunted her. Had she done the right thing all those years ago when she came up with a solution for Tessa’s pregnancy? What if the adoption wasn’t legal after all? What if Blake decided he wanted custody?

What if she lost Jordan in another way?

An uncomfortable silence lingered at the table as Marcella finished up her snack and Susie fingered the red-and-white stir stick in her coffee cup. “So who’s up to seeing a movie Friday night?”

“I am. Are you, Elizabeth? You could use a night out.”

Elizabeth unwound her fingers from the shakers and forced a smile to her lips. “Sure. After I get Jordan to sleep.”

Susie crushed Marcella’s candy wrapper and stuffed it inside her empty coffee cup. “Sounds like a plan.”

Elizabeth’s phone chirped, signaling a text. Pulling out her BlackBerry, she glanced at the message and sighed. “Gotta run. Jordan’s doctor wants to see me.”

* * *

“—I pray the Lord my soul to keep. Amen.”

“Amen.” As Elizabeth gently squeezed her nine-year-old daughter’s hand, anxiety twisted her muscles into a knot. Jordan had lost more weight and her bald spots were more prominent from her last round of chemo. Soon they’d have to shave off the rest of her shoulder-length, dark brown hair. Elizabeth contained the sob in her throat. Jordan had to get better.

Please, God, heal my daughter.

Still kneeling beside her hospital bed, Jordan lifted her head and gazed out the window. Elizabeth knew she looked into the twilight, pretending to see God’s face smiling down at her. While Elizabeth didn’t have her daughter’s imagination and would only see the darkening horizon, the outline of another building to the left of the hospital and the silhouette of Camelback Mountain in the distance, she still felt His love, and the emerging twinkling stars filled her with hope.

While her faith hadn’t waned over the course of Jordan’s illness, the trips to the hospital and doctors’ offices had superseded attending church. That was going to change. Just yesterday, she’d again seen the power of belief when a five-year-old accident victim came through the E.R. doors and the family and friends kept up a silent vigil during the successful three-hour surgery.

Another quick prayer slipped through Elizabeth’s lips.

With the decreasing activity on the children’s floor of the hospital, stillness crept into the room. Elizabeth massaged her daughter’s bony shoulders. So far this bout of leukemia had robbed Jordan of three months of a normal childhood. Yet some of the other children on the floor faced far worse battles. She prayed that they would find a compatible bone-marrow donor and that the doctors here would find cures for the rest of the children.

“Now in bed with you.” Elizabeth helped her daughter slide between the white sheets and settle against her favorite purple-and-pink butterfly pillow. Elizabeth sat on the side of the bed and leaned over to give her a kiss. “Good night, sweetpea. I love you.”

“Good night, Mom. I love you, too.”

Elizabeth caressed Jordan’s cheek. So soft, so innocent, so young. This illness had to be part of God’s plan. He’d drawn her into medicine so that she could assist others, and with His help, she’d find a way to save her daughter.

But did that include Blake Crawford?

Elizabeth folded back the blanket and smoothed out the creases. “We’ll get through this, Jordan. I promise.”

“I know. We did before.” Jordan gave her a tired grin.

“Yes, we did. And this time, we’ll make sure it doesn’t come back.” Rising to her feet, Elizabeth turned off the lights and left the room. Once outside, she leaned against the wall.

Maintaining a positive attitude around Jordan drained her. Overhead, the fluorescent lights dimmed, signaling the end of visiting hours. The harsh, institutional glare made her miss the warm, inviting atmosphere of their two-bedroom townhome. A townhome which stood vacant now because Elizabeth had moved into the doctors’ quarters downstairs while her daughter remained in the hospital.

If only Blake knew how close he was to Jordan when he came to see her today. Did he really want his daughter? Was there anything she could do to stop him?

She squeezed her eyelids shut, glad the hallway was empty. The sound of rustling sheets inside Jordan’s room caught her attention and Elizabeth strained to hear her daughter’s soft, tired voice floating into the hallway.

“Please, God, bring me another daddy before I die. Then Mommy won’t be so lonely anymore. Good night.”

Before I die.

Jordan had lost her will to live, and they still had a long way to go to beat the leukemia. Dipping her head, Elizabeth lost her hard-won composure. She bit her lip as a tear slid down her cheek. Jordan’s nightly prayer still hadn’t changed, not that she expected it would.

Had God been listening? Is that why Blake had shown up when he did? Or did his appearance have another meaning—one that might not have a happy-ever-after ending after all?

Chapter Two

“Let’s go.” Blake motioned to his partner, Corey Abrahamson, the following morning. He wheeled the stretcher toward the emergency room doors that led outside to the waiting ambulance. The accident had been a fender bender, yet they’d brought the elderly man to the hospital to be checked over as a precaution.

Now that the call was over, Blake had nothing but time on his hands and a daughter on his mind. He helped Corey lift the stretcher into the back of the ambulance, figuring that Elizabeth Randall was off today because he hadn’t seen her in the E.R. Maybe she was with a patient.

Suddenly he realized that outside Kingfisher, he had no way of contacting her. After closing and securing the doors, he pulled a piece of paper out of his pocket and quickly scribbled a note.

“Hang on. I forgot something.” He strode back through the doors and left the note with the nurse behind the desk. Elizabeth wouldn’t get his phone number until Monday, but there was nothing he could do about that. Sweet-talking the young intern had only resulted in finding out the doctor’s next shift.

A doctor. Now that he’d met the woman and reality was setting in, dread pounded in his heart. Tessa had given their daughter up for adoption to a doctor.

Not that his late ex-wife would have known about his aversion to doctors, because they’d met in med school when Blake was still trying to gain his father’s approval. In their whirlwind courtship and brief marriage, Dr. William Crawford—the cutting-edge heart surgeon—had never been mentioned. It didn’t take long for Blake to realize he didn’t want to be a doctor, and he quit. After Tessa left him, he enlisted in the army instead of returning home to face his father’s wrath. And right about that time, he started living for the moment and seeking out every thrill he could find. While others went out and saved the world, he spent his money and time trying to save himself from the demons of his youth. With a daughter now, he had to start thinking of someone else. It rocked him to the core.

“All set now?” Corey leaned against the side of the ambulance.

“Yes.” Blake strode to the driver’s side of the cab. Once inside, he snapped his seat belt into place and flipped the switch to let dispatch know they were available for another call. Blake pulled air into his lungs, yet suffocation still threatened to pull him under. “What’s it like being a dad?”

His question startled the other man. No surprise there—sports and food usually dominated their conversations.

Corey gave him a dubious look.

“Did Karen put you up to this?”

“No.”

Blake started the engine, put the ambulance in drive and pulled out into the parking lot. Once the numbness had worn off, the anticipation he’d felt earlier when he’d read the letter from Tessa returned. Another generation of Crawfords existed. Responsibility weighed on his shoulders, but he knew the right thing to do. He would meet Jordan and be a part of her life, despite the adoption. Dr. Randall couldn’t keep him from her forever.

But what would happen then? Apprehension gripped his heart.

Would Jordan reject him like everyone else in his life?