Thunder Canyon Homecoming

by Brenda Harlen

  More importantly—why hadn’t she stood up to him? Why hadn’t she told him that he had no right to make demands or issue ultimatums? Why hadn’t she told him to go to hell?

  Because she wanted to believe that he had a valid reason for responding the way he had. Because she wanted to believe that, when she had proof of her claim, he would support her.

  Although it carried the same name, Erin knew that the Thunder Canyon General Hospital on White Water Drive wasn’t actually the same hospital where she’d been born. The two-story building was less than a dozen years old, having been built during the economic boom to better serve the town’s growing population.

  But Erin also knew that the records from the old hospital would have been transferred over along with most of the staff. As she stepped beneath the covered portico toward the entrance, she mentally crossed her fingers that if Delores Beckett wasn’t still working there, she might at least find someone who could help her track the woman down.

  She checked in at the information desk and got directions to the maternity ward on the second floor. As she made her way through the halls, she was surprised by the bright and modern décor. If not for the antiseptic smell and tiled floors, she might have believed she was in an office building rather than a hospital.

  The corridor in the maternity wing had a lovely floral border in shades of pink and green and lilac. She stopped at the nurse’s station, where a dark-haired nurse wearing blue scrubs decorated with teddy bears was inputting data into a computer.

  She looked up and smiled. “Can I help you?”

  Erin wiped her suddenly damp palms down the front of her skirt. Now that she was here, she was a bundle of nerves. And she had a sudden urge to turn around and walk away, to “let it go” as Corey had urged her to do.

  But she couldn’t because she knew that the questions that swirled through her mind would continue to haunt her until she had the answers. Besides, the woman dressed in teddy bears—Beth Ann, according to her name tag—was watching her, waiting.

  “I’m, uh, looking for Delores.”

  Beth Ann glanced at a chart on the wall, but she was already shaking her head. “We only have three new moms here now and no one named Delores. Maybe she went to Billings to have her baby,” she suggested helpfully.

  “She’s not a patient,” Erin explained. “She works here.”

  “Delores?” Beth Ann frowned. “And she works in maternity?”

  “Who are you looking for?”

  The question came from behind her, and Erin jolted at the sharpness of the tone. Turning, she found herself face-to-face with a tall, steely-eyed doctor.

  “Delores—” Her hand went to the scrap of paper in her jacket pocket, the one on which she’d scrawled the nurse’s name. Delores Beckett. She didn’t need to pull out the paper to verify the name, and she was reluctant to do so. There was something about this doctor’s confrontational posture and suspicious glare that made her wary, though she didn’t understand why.

  Do you think there was some kind of conspiracy? That the whole town was somehow involved in covering up a baby switch?

  Corey’s words echoed in the back of her mind, but instead of challenging, this time they sounded like a warning. And while she didn’t believe the whole town was involved, it occurred to her that someone other than the nurse might have been aware of the situation. Possibly even the doctor who had delivered the babies.

  Erin swallowed. “I knew her before she was married, and I’ve blanked on her new last name,” she fibbed.

  “Well, it doesn’t matter because we don’t have anyone named Delores who works here.” The doctor went behind the counter to retrieve a stack of patient charts, effectively dismissing her.

  Erin was surprised they had anyone on staff who would be willing to work with such an obnoxiously rude doctor, and even more surprised that anyone would want to give birth in this hospital if it was under his watch.

  “Beth Ann—”

  The nurse sent Erin an apologetic glance before she turned her attention to the doctor.

  “—I need the Warner file.”

  She closed the cover on the folder beside her computer and held it toward him. He snatched it from her hand and strode away without a backward glance.

  “That was Doctor Gifford,” Beth Ann said to Erin.

  “Friendly guy,” she muttered.

  The nurse smiled. “This woman you’re looking for—” she hesitated “—is it possible that you mean Doris Becker?”

  Erin was sure both Erma and her mother had said “Delores,” but “Delores” and “Doris” weren’t so very different. Maybe Erma had known her as Delores and had introduced her by that name to Betty, but the nurse shortened her name at work. And maybe Erin was grasping at straws again.

  But there was something in the tone of Beth Ann’s question—it was almost as if the nurse was suggesting that Erin should talk to Doris, as if there was something she wanted her to know but was afraid to say with the disapproving doctor within earshot.

  She shook her head, worried that she was starting to see conspiracies where none existed. However, she had nothing to lose by talking to Doris and she certainly didn’t have any other leads to follow.

  “I’ve always called her Delores,” she finally said. “I forgot that she sometimes goes by Doris.”

  Beth Ann checked the schedule that was posted on the wall beside her computer. “She’s actually off today, but she’s working the afternoon shift the rest of the week. That means she starts at three and usually has her first break around four-thirty.”

  Erin mentally reviewed her own schedule. She usually worked until five, but if she worked through her lunch the next day, she could probably get away a little early and be at the hospital by four-fifteen. “That’s great,” she said to the nurse. “Thanks.”

  She left the hospital disappointed but not entirely dejected. Her visit hadn’t been as successful as she would have liked, but something about Beth Ann’s demeanor had given her new hope.

  Was she on the right track now? Or would Doris end up being another dead end?

  Hopefully, within twenty-eight hours, she would have the answers to those questions.

  Chapter Ten

  Corey was invited to Grant and Stephanie’s for dinner Monday night. Grant, apparently having heard through the infallible Thunder Canyon grapevine that his friend was seeing a lot of Erin Castro, extended the invitation to include her as well. Corey knew that Erin would be thrilled to join them, and he hesitated only a second before declining on her behalf.

  He couldn’t forget what she’d said—her ridiculous belief that Grant was her brother. And he felt it was best not to give her any opportunities to poke into his friend’s life more than she already had. Not that he believed she’d slip away from the dinner table to rifle through Grant’s home looking for nonexistent proof to support her claim. Especially since she’d decided not to follow up on her suspicions.

  He felt a twinge of guilt when he remembered that she had agreed to back off and a sharper twinge when he recalled that he’d practically demanded it of her.

  He’d reacted strongly, impulsively. But he’d known Grant for a long time; he remembered how his friend’s world had fallen apart when John Clifton had been killed. Grant’s mother, Helen, had lost any interest in ranching when she lost her husband, and she’d eventually taken her daughter with her to Billings, for a new start away from the horrific memories. Grant had stayed. Eventually he and Stephanie—whose father had been killed along with Grant’s—had fallen in love. They’d overcome tragedy and heartache and would soon be expanding their family. They deserved to be happy, to feel secure in the life they were building together.

  What Erin had suggested was impossible, he truly believed that. But he also believed that telling Grant there was a chance—however minute—that she might be his sister and that Elise might not would be another blow to a man who had already dealt with so much. He didn’t even want to imagine the effect that s
uch a claim would have on Elise.

  Or maybe he was projecting. Maybe the scars from his own life weren’t as long buried as he wanted to believe. He knew what it was like to have his whole world change in a heartbeat. It had happened for him and his brothers and sister when their father was killed by an oil rig explosion. He might have only been eight years old at the time, but he remembered, all too clearly, the sense of complete helplessness. And he remembered thinking that he would have done absolutely anything to put things back the way they were—to leave his life unchanged.

  He’d experienced that same powerlessness when his four-and-a-half year old nephew, Dillon’s son from his first marriage, died. He would have done anything, would have given anything, to save Toby, but of course, nothing could.

  Since then, he’d worked hard to control every aspect of his life. He liked to call the shots. He liked to know not just what was happening but to feel as if he had some command over the outcome of a situation. And when Erin had suggested that she might be Grant’s sister, all he could think was that she was going to send his friend’s world spiraling out of control, and he wasn’t willing to sit back and let that happen.

  But he wondered now if he’d been unfair to Erin. He knew that she hadn’t come to Thunder Canyon to stir up trouble, that her intentions weren’t cruel. More, he could tell that she believed what she’d told him. As outrageous as her claims seemed to him, she honestly thought it was possible that someone at the hospital had mixed up babies. And he’d dismissed her suggestion practically out of hand.

  He pushed those recriminations aside. He’d done what he thought was best. And in any event, why would Erin want to be preoccupied with the past when they had so much to look forward to in the future—together?

  Erin was more than a little distracted at work the next morning. She lost track of what she was supposed to be doing, and when Corey showed up just before noon, she couldn’t think of why he might be there.

  “Did we have plans for lunch?” She was sure they didn’t—she wouldn’t have forgotten something like that. But she’d forgotten a lot of things today that she didn’t think she would.

  “Not yet,” Corey said, giving her one of those smiles that never failed to jumpstart her heart. “But I was hoping we could make some.”

  “I’m sorry,” she said, and she was. Even if he didn’t have time to go for lunch or coffee, it always perked up her day when he stopped by. And she felt guilty that she was not only brushing him off, but that she couldn’t tell him the reason.

  “I switched breaks with Carrie and I’m working through lunch so that I can leave early to meet…a friend.”

  She cringed inwardly at the lie. It was one thing to stretch the truth when she was trying to get information from Beth Ann, and something else entirely when she was talking to the man she was very personally involved with.

  But she couldn’t tell him the truth because she knew he would try to talk her out of meeting with Doris. And she’d come too far to back out now. She needed to find out what—if anything—Doris could tell her.

  She touched his hand. “I won’t be late, though. So if you wanted to come by later for dinner…”

  He smiled and leaned forward to brush his lips against hers. “I definitely want to come by later for…dinner.”

  She felt her cheeks flush in response to the deliberate innuendo. It amazed her, after all the time they’d been together and all the things they’d done together, that he could still make her blush.

  “What time?” he asked.

  “Seven?”

  He kissed her again. “I’ll be there.”

  “I know we’re encouraged to provide personal service,” Trina said, walking past, “but I’d say that goes above and beyond.”

  Erin managed a smile, but she didn’t miss the edge in her coworker’s voice. Obviously Trina was still annoyed be cause Corey had rejected her advances at Erika and Dillon’s wedding.

  After he’d gone, she forced herself to focus on her work so that Trina wouldn’t have anything else to complain about. The afternoon seemed to stretch out interminably, but at last it was three thirty and she started counting down the last half hour of her shift.

  Unfortunately, she got caught up on a long-distance call that seemed as if it would never end. An executive assistant for a wealthy German businessman was trying to make arrangements for a corporate retreat for twenty-two employees. Erin wanted to transfer the call to group bookings, but there was something of a language barrier in their communications and, in the end, she decided it was probably just easier to make the arrangements herself.

  By the time she finalized the details and managed to get away from the desk, it was after four o’clock. Thankfully, she didn’t run into any more snags between the resort and the hospital.

  As a result of his conversation with Grant the night before, Corey had come up with a business proposition that he wanted to discuss with his brother. But when he caught up with Dillon, who was still helping out at the resort, he found that the doctor had a waiting room full of patients—compliments of a nasty seasonal flu that was making the rounds—and a stack of files and insurance forms on his desk—courtesy of his admitted abhorrence for paperwork.

  But the nurse snuck him into Dillon’s office, promising that the doctor would check in with him as soon as he had a minute. Half an hour later, his brother finally breezed through the door with a cardboard box under one arm and another handful of patient folders under the other.

  “Busy place today,” Corey said to his brother.

  “Please tell me you don’t have a fever, nausea or diarrhea.”

  “I don’t have a fever, nausea or diarrhea,” Corey repeated obediently. “What I do have is a proposition.”

  Dillon dropped the box and the files on his desk and glanced at his watch. “Can you outline it in thirty seconds or less?”

  “I think we should invest in the resort.”

  “And twenty-seven seconds to spare,” his brother noted.

  “I don’t expect you to answer right now. I just thought I’d put the idea out there, give you something to think about.”

  “I will,” Dillon promised.

  “Then I’ll let you get back to your patients.”

  “Hey—where are you going now?” Dillon asked.

  Corey paused at the door. “Why?”

  “Any chance you’re headed by the hospital? Because I have some samples from the pharmaceutical rep who was in today that I promised to drop off for Dr. Tabry.”

  “That you promised to drop off,” Corey echoed.

  Dillon picked up the box again, held it out to his brother. “But if you’re headed in that direction…”

  He was, but only because it had occurred to him that he and Erin had missed a few of the usual steps in the development of their relationship, and he’d decided to remedy that with old-fashioned courting. Because she was making him dinner tonight, he thought it would be appropriate to take her some flowers. Coincidentally, the flower shop was across the street from the General Hospital.

  “Do I look like an errand boy?” Corey asked, not willing to accede too easily to his brother’s request.

  Dillon gave him a once-over. “Now that you mention it.”

  Corey snatched the box out of his hand. “Fine. But you owe me.”

  “Add it to my tab.”

  “I will.”

  “How about dinner on Saturday?”

  “Are you asking me for a date?”

  “Smart ass,” Dillon muttered.

  Corey just grinned.

  “I’m inviting you—and Erin—to come over for dinner Saturday night.”

  “I thought you didn’t like Erin.”

  “I didn’t say I didn’t like her,” Dillon told him. “I said I didn’t know her. Maybe if we all spend some time together, that will change.”

  “I’ll check with her and let you know.”

  This time, it was a younger, blonde woman who was at the nurse’s station
.

  “I was in yesterday trying to track down an old friend,” Erin explained, “and the nurse on duty suggested that I come back this afternoon.”

  “Oh, yes, Beth Ann told me that someone had stopped by looking for Doris Becker.”

  She nodded.

  “That would be me,” the nurse told her.

  In that moment, Erin realized two things—Doris Becker knew her cover story was a lie, and there was no way she’d been in attendance when Erin was born. In fact, it was likely Erin had been born before Doris.

  “I’m sorry—obviously I made a mistake.”

  “Not necessarily,” Doris said and smiled when Erin frowned. “It’s quiet in here today. Why don’t we go grab a cup of coffee?”

  “I don’t want to take up any more of your time.”

  “I’ve got time,” Doris insisted.

  So Erin found herself following the nurse down to the cafeteria. Like the rest of the hospital, it was modern and efficient, if somewhat stark. The floor was white, the tables and chairs were blue, but there were lots of tall windows looking into the lobby on one side and outdoors on the other.

  Doris led the way to a self-serve beverage station where she poured herself a large cup of dark roast. Erin opted for the same, generously doctoring her cup with milk and sugar. She insisted on paying for their beverages, in appreciation for Doris’s time, and they took their cups to a table overlooking the courtyard.

  “It’s a much better view in the summer,” Doris told her. “When everything is lush and green instead of dull and brown.”

  “It’s a nice hospital,” Erin said.

  “I’ve only worked here a few months, but I like it. I’m guessing this…friend you were looking for worked here some time ago.”

  “She was actually a friend of my aunt’s. I never even met her—” she paused there but decided that the nurse having been present at her birth didn’t require her to alter that statement “—but I thought, since I was in town, I would look her up.”