What was on her little mind?
She looked like she was about to jump out of her skin. And he needed to know why.
âSo why youâd ask me over?â
Averyâs fork fell and clattered against her plate.
âI just wanted to follow up ⦠about what happened ⦠on New Yearâs.â
He didnât need a reminder. The heat between them had been undeniable, so strong heâd pulled her into the nearest private spotâa supply closet. Heâd waited three years to have her, and the memories of that night still played out in his dreams.
âWhat exactly requires follow-up?â he asked.
She didnât look at him. âWell ⦠it, um, turns out we didnât, um ⦠dodge the bullet.â
It took him a minute to figure out what she was saying. Then he felt something deep in his gut. âYouâre ⦠pregnant?â
She pulled a narrow plastic stick out of her pocket. Two lines showed in the window. Then she met his eyes. âYouâre going to be a daddy.â
* * *
Those Engaging Garretts!:The Carolina Cousins!
Chapter One
After six years at Mercy Hospital, Dr. Justin Garrett knew that Friday nights in the ER were inevitably frenzied and chaotic.
New Yearâs Eve was worse.
And when New Yearâs Eve happened to fall on a Fridayâwell, it wasnât yet midnight and heâd already seen more than twice the usual number of patients pass through the emergency department, most of the incidents and injuries directly related to alcohol consumption.
A drunken college student who had put his fist through a wallâand his basketball scholarship in jeopardyâwith fractures of the fourth and fifth metacarpal bones. A sixty-three-year-old man who had doubled up on Viagra to celebrate the occasion with his thirty-six-year-old wife and ended up in cardiac arrest instead. A seventeen-year-old female who had fallen off her balcony because the Ecstasy slipped into her drink by her boyfriend had made her want to pick the pretty flowers on her neighborâs terraceâthankfully, she lived on the second floor, although she did sustain a broken clavicle and had required thirty-eight stitches to close the gash on her arm, courtesy of the glass vodka cooler bottle she had been holding when she fell.
And those were only the ones heâd seen in the past hour. Then there was Nancy Andersonâa woman who claimed she tripped and fell into a door but whom he recognized from her frequent visits to the ER with various and numerous contusions and lacerations. Tonight it was a black eye, swollen jaw and broken wrist. Nancy wasnât drunk, but Justin would bet that her husband wasânot because it was New Yearâs Eve but because Ray Anderson always hit the bottle as soon as he got home from work.
More than once, Justin had tried to help her see that there were other options. She refused to listen to him. Because he understood that a woman who had been abused by her husband might be reluctant to confide in another man, heâd called in a female physician to talk to her, with the same unsatisfactory result. After Thanksgiving, when sheâd suffered a miscarriage caused by a âfall down the stairs,â Dr. Wallace had suggested that she talk to a counselor. Nancy Anderson continued to insist that she was just clumsy, that her husband loved her and would never hurt her.
âWhat did she say happened this time?â asked Callie Levine, one of his favorite nurses who had drawn the short straw and got stuck working the New Yearâs Eve shift beside him.
âWalked into a door.â
Callie shook her head. âHeâs going to kill her one of these days.â
âProbably,â Justin admitted grimly. âBut it doesnât matter that you and I see it when she refuses to acknowledge whatâs happening.â
âWhen she lost the baby, I honestly thought that would do it. That her grief would override her fear and she would finally tell the truth.â
âShe fell down the stairs,â Justin said, reminding her of the explanation Nancy Anderson had given when she was admitted on that previous occasion.
Then, because talking about the womanâs situation made him feel both frustrated and ineffectual, he opened another chart. âDid you call up to the psych department for a consult?â