Who's the Daddy

by Judy Christenberry

  Max frowned. He could wait for his questions to be answered, as long as he didn’t lose her again. He couldn’t lose her again.

  THE SUDDEN NOISE at the door of her room had increased the pain in her head. The nurse touched her shoulder and smiled, silently encouraging her to relax.

  Oh, sure. It was easy for the nurse. She hadn’t lost her memory. She knew her name. And if she forgot, it was right there on her name tag.

  The doctor had told her her name was Caroline. But there was no sense of recognition, no satisfaction. Just confusion. And, as much as she fought it, panic.

  All she knew was what she’d been told since she’d awakened in the hospital. There’d been a wreck, a hit and run, and she’d smacked her head on the windshield even though she’d worn her seat belt. Her purse had been beside her, giving the doctor her name. He said he’d called her family.

  If her family was making all the noise, she wasn’t sure she wanted to see them. At least not yet.

  Suddenly her bed was surrounded by people.

  People.

  But no one she knew.

  She hadn’t realized how much she’d hoped she would recognize her family when they arrived until that moment. You’d think she could at least recall her parents. Even though she could identify the two likeliest suspects by their age, her mouth went dry at the blankness that filled her.

  Her gaze shifted to the first one who’d entered, seeking a distraction. He was somehow different from the rest of them. Rugged. And very attractive. I don’t know who I am, but at least I know what I like.

  She hurriedly looked away as a horrible thought struck her.

  What if he was her brother?

  The older man stepped forward and picked up her hand.

  “Caroline, are you okay?”

  She said faintly, “Yes, I’m fine.”

  As if he didn’t believe her, he looked at the doctor.

  “Are you Mr. Adkins?” the doctor asked. “Yes.”

  “I’m Dr. Johansen. Your daughter is in good condition, considering the accident.”

  “Fine, fine. When can I take her home?”

  She couldn’t help the panicked gaze she sent to the doctor. These people were all strangers. She didn’t want to go with them.

  Before the doctor could answer, the older lady pushed through the crowd to the side of the bed. “You’re fine, aren’t you, Caroline? I know you wouldn’t have asked me to leave my meeting. I told your father that, and Agnes agreed.”

  The younger woman groaned. “Mother, do you have to repeat everything Agnes says? Besides, I’m the one who shouldn’t have come. After all, I’m expecting.”

  Caroline frowned. The young lady announced her condition as if she were the first pregnant woman in the world. As her lips quirked slightly, Caroline discovered something new about herself. She had a sense of humor. Thank goodness. I’d hate to live with these people and not know how to laugh.

  She looked at the four men who hadn’t spoken. Three of them were in expensive business suits. The other man, the one who’d first caught her attention, was dressed in jeans and a short sleeved shirt. He was slightly taller than the others, and his muscled figure was bronzed from the sun.

  He opened his mouth, as if to speak, when the doctor said, “I understand how much you’d like to take her home at once, but, in her condition, I think we should keep her overnight for observation.”

  “I thought you said she was okay,” the man in blue jeans snapped. Caroline liked the anxious look he sent the doctor.

  “She is. But with the baby—”

  “Oh, that’s all right. I don’t live at home anymore. She won’t bother me,” the young woman told the doctor with a superior air. “My husband and I have our own home, quite lovely, just a few blocks away from Daddy.”

  Dr. Johansen looked nonplussed, the first time he’d been stumped since Caroline met him after she’d awakened. Finally he said, “I think you misunderstood me. I wasn’t referring to your baby, young lady, but Caroline’s. She’s pregnant.”

  In the silence that followed his explanation, Caroline moved her hand to her stomach, unable to believe the doctor’s words. Pregnant? She couldn’t be. Could she? Oh, dear, what had she gotten herself into?

  And with whom?

  A look at the shocked faces around her told her that no one else had known.

  Then the young woman whimpered. “I should’ve known. I should’ve known you’d go out and get pregnant just to spite me. You always think you have to be better than me!” She broke into sobs, burying her face in the suit jacket of one of the younger men.

  “Oh, no, dear, no. This is all my fault,” said the woman she supposed was her mother.

  The man who claimed to be her father turned to stare at the woman. “What are you talking about, Amelia?”

  Amelia? Her mother’s name was Amelia?

  “I should never have asked Caroline to work in the unwed mother’s home. It’s my fault.”

  “Amelia, pregnancy isn’t contagious, either!” the man ranted, his face turning red.

  Caroline almost felt sorry for him. He seemed surrounded by some very strange people.

  Dr. Johansen spoke again. “I apologize. I didn’t realize you didn’t know about the pregnancy. Of course, she’s only two months along, but usually—”

  “Two months?” Mr. Blue Jeans asked sharply.

  “Yes, but—”

  “I demand to know who the father is,” the older man suddenly exclaimed, glaring at everyone in the room. In that tone of voice, Caroline was sure he was always obeyed.

  She was right.

  Three men stepped forward, each of them staring at her, and, in unison, as if rehearsed, said, “I am.”

  CHAPTER TWO

  SHE WAS SLEEPING with three men? At the same time? What kind of woman was she?

  Caroline stared at each of those who’d claimed parentage to her child. No flicker of recognition arose. She was debating what her response should be when everyone else in the room spoke for her.

  “I don’t understand,” Amelia said, a puzzled look on her brow.

  “Well, I do! Caroline, how disgusting,” her sister said, staring down her nose at Caroline.

  “That’s impossible!” James Adkins roared. “You couldn’t be the father of her child!”

  Caroline frowned as she realized her father was only speaking to the odd man out, the one in blue jeans. Her father didn’t have a problem with the other two men claiming to be the father of her child? What qualified them? The fact that they were wearing suits?

  After directing a glare at her father, the man turned to look at Caroline. She found herself swallowed up by his burning gaze.

  “Oh, yes, I certainly could,” he said, with no doubt in his voice.

  If it were a matter of attraction, she’d accept his word, hands down, she realized. But it wasn’t. “Who are you?” she asked.

  There was a flash of disappointment in his gaze, but it disappeared almost at once. “Max Daniels.”

  “We—we dated?”

  “Briefly.”

  “Caroline, the man is obviously after your money. I’ll get rid of him,” James Adkins promised, and then motioned to the other two daddy candidates.

  She didn’t know who she was, or who these people were, but she did know she didn’t take kindly to being overruled. “I don’t think that decision is yours to make.”

  The uproar her assertion of independence brought from her father, the other two men, even her mother and sister, was enough to make Caroline’s headache feel like a volcanic eruption.

  Even in pain, however, she noticed that the center of the controversy, Mr. Blue Jeans, shot her a look of approval. Well, he needn’t think he was home free. She wasn’t about to take a stranger’s word about such an important matter.

  She was struck by the irony of calling the man a stranger when he might be the father of her child.

  “I asked you not to question or upset her,” Dr. Johansen inter
rupted. “You’ll all have to leave now.”

  Though they didn’t go quietly, the doctor herded the visitors from the room and left Caroline in peace.

  As much peace as one could have, pregnant without knowing who the father might be.

  Could she really have been sleeping with three men? Was she the kind of woman who hopped from bed to bed? Revulsion filled her and she wanted to believe that was not possible. But then why were three men claiming to be the daddy?

  She recalled her father’s remark, that Max Daniels was only after her money. Once the pregnancy had been revealed, she hadn’t thought about her life before the accident. She was wealthy? Not that she objected. Not having to worry about paying hospital bills would be an advantage.

  But she needed answers! She wanted to reclaim her life, to understand what was happening to her. And most of all, she wanted to know which man had made love to her two months ago. And heaven help her if it was more than one.

  “ARE YOU ALL PACKED?” the nurse asked cheerfully, coming into her room the next morning.

  Caroline murmured yes, not bothering to point out she had almost nothing to pack. She didn’t move her head, however. Even after twenty-four hours, it felt fragile. “Is—is my father here?”

  She still wasn’t comfortable with James Adkins, or the other members of her family. Or even with herself, for that matter. She’d looked in a mirror and seen a stranger. A pregnant stranger.

  That thought had been brought home to her when she’d gotten up this morning. Morning sickness, heightened by her concussion, the nurse had said, had attacked her. What little breakfast she’d eaten had come right back up.

  Women go through this more than once? Voluntarily? The nurse had reassured her that her sickness was perfectly normal in the circumstances.

  “He called earlier to let us know he was picking you up at ten. It’s almost that now. I’ll bring a cart for the flowers.”

  Her father had flooded her room with floral arrangements. Even more interesting had been the offerings from two of the men claiming to have fathered her baby. Long-stemmed red roses. Two dozen apiece.

  Nothing from Max Daniels.

  “Why don’t you pass the flowers out among the sick?” Caroline said. “I think that might be easier than carting them all home.” Wherever that was.

  “That’s very generous of you. I have several patients who never receive flowers.” The nurse smiled.

  “Then I hope they enjoy these.”

  Footsteps near the door had her turning around carefully. But it was neither the doctor nor her father. Her heartbeat picked up speed as she stared at Max Daniels.

  How could she have forgotten making love to this man? He was certainly handsome, but there was something more—a connection she couldn’t explain—that took her breath away. She noted he was again in jeans, this time coupled with a starched plaid shirt, and he held a bouquet of daisies in his hand.

  “Good morning,” he said.

  She responded and waited, watching him. His eyes, as blue as the sky, looked wary, as if he weren’t sure of his welcome. The nurse slipped from the room, murmuring something about fetching a cart. Left alone with him, Caroline’s mouth went dry as she stared at the gorgeous man in front of her. The urge to touch him almost consumed her. When Max continued to say nothing, she asked in desperation, “Are those for me?”

  He held the flowers out to her. “Yeah.” His gaze took in the roses and carnations that filled the room. “You told me you liked daisies.”

  If she hadn’t before, she did now. If Max Daniels delivered them. “I do, thank you. That’s very thoughtful of you.”

  “Has your memory returned?” He took a step closer, his gaze intent.

  She started to shake her head and then stopped. The headache hovering on the edge of consciousness edged closer with any radical movement. “No, it hasn’t.”

  He thrust the flowers into her hands and stepped back. “Then how can I get a phone number where I can reach you? I’d like to stay in touch.”

  “You don’t have it?” Some relationship they must’ve had. If he was telling the truth.

  “No. If I’d had it, I would’ve found you a lot sooner,” he said gruffly, a fierceness entering his gaze that had her stepping back.

  Either the movement, or the puzzle that was her life at the moment, pushed the headache out of control. She reached for her forehead with her free hand, clasping the daisies to her breast with the other.

  “Are you all right?”

  “I need to sit down,” she said faintly, and he guided her to the only chair. As she was sinking into it, her head lolling back against the top of it, the door to her room was pushed open.

  “What are you doing to my daughter?” a booming voice demanded.

  Caroline dropped the flowers into her lap and pressed both hands to her throbbing temples. “Please—”

  Without answering her father’s question, Max walked to the bed and pressed the nurse’s button.

  “I’m sorry, Caro, I didn’t mean to make your head hurt,” James Adkins hurriedly apologized, and then glared at Max, as if it were Max’s fault he had yelled.

  “Yes?” the nurse asked as she came back into the room.

  “Ms. Adkins’s headache has come back,” Max said softly. “Is there anything you can give her for it?”

  “It never went away,” Caroline contradicted him.

  “Because of the baby, we can’t give her a painkiller. She just needs to have peace and quiet.” The nurse glared accusingly at the two men.

  “I’m here to take her home,” her father said stiffly. “I don’t know why he’s here.”

  “Well, she needs to be back in bed as soon as possible. The doctor’s on the way up to release her.” She backed out of the room, still frowning at Caroline’s visitors.

  “He wants my phone number,” Caroline told her father. “Would you give it to him, please? I don’t remember it. And get his.” Stupid statement. No one would expect her to remember a phone number when she couldn’t even remember her shoe size.

  But she didn’t want to lose Max Daniels. Her reaction to him told her he had to be the one—the father of her baby. The love of her life? Frustration filled her—and not a little panic. What if she never remembered? What if—

  Her father disrupted her fears by glaring at Max again and moving closer to her chair to say in a stage whisper obviously intended for Max’s ears, “Caroline, I’m not sure that’s wise. We only have his say-so that you two were—you know.”

  Caroline rolled her eyes. Great. Next her father would want to explain the birds and the bees. “Intimate. That’s the word. Please give him my phone number.”

  Max stepped forward, ignoring her father, and extended a business card to her. “Both my work and home numbers are on this card. Call me if there’s anything I can do for you—or anything.”

  “You’ve already done too much, according to you!” her father growled.

  Max’s lips—those enticing lips—flattened tightly against each other, and Caroline had the strangest urge to tease them into a smile. As attracted as she was to Max Daniels, if he was the father of her child, she felt sure she had put up no resistance whatsoever to any intimacy between them. In fact, she may have seduced him.

  But what about the other two men who claimed to be the daddy? She wished she could rule them out, but she reluctantly admitted she couldn’t. She’d read about women who carried on with more than one man, but—she had?

  Distracted by a memory, even an insignificant one, she lost track of the men’s conversation. It was such a relief to remember something, even though it was useless for solving her problems.

  “Look, Mr. Adkins,” Max said, moving closer to the older man, “what happened is between Caroline and me. What’s her phone number?”

  “It’s unlisted.”

  “I figured that. I called all the Adkinses as I could find in the telephone book.”

  That remark snapped her from her thoughts.
“You did?”

  “You disappeared without saying goodbye. I wanted to know why.” His expression said he blamed her for her unexplained departure.

  She’d like to know why she’d gone away, too. Why would she leave someone she was obviously attracted to? Had she found out some deep, dark secret? Or was his entire story a lie?

  “She probably realized she was in love with Prescott or Adrian. She came back to them, didn’t she?” James offered.

  Her father’s interpretation of past events might not be quite reliable, Caroline decided. He seemed intent on persuading her that one of the other men was the mysterious father.

  “By the way, where are the Bobbsey twins?” she asked.

  Max choked and tried to hide a chuckle behind one of his big hands. Her gaze remained fixed on his crinkling blue eyes, hoping for a glimpse of his smile.

  “Caroline! You shouldn’t call them such a thing. They’re down in the limo, waiting. They wanted to come up here, but I assured them we’d be right down.” James glared at Max again.

  “They really came?” She’d only been teasing, hoping to lighten the moment.

  “Of course. They’re very concerned about you.” He waved to the roses on each side of her bed. “After all, they sent you roses, a lot more expensive than those daisies.”

  In spite of her headache, Caroline smelled a rat and asked, “How do you know the roses came from them?”

  “Well, I thought— I suggested— It was just a guess.” He blundered to a stop.

  As if it were a natural occurrence, her gaze flew to Max’s and they shared a smile, a glorious smile that she’d been waiting to see. She took a deep breath of appreciation. The guy was as sexy as could be. She wondered what he’d look like without his shirt.

  “Caroline!” Her father was obviously irritated at her distraction.

  “Please, my head.”

  Both the doctor and the nurse returned to her room at that moment, the nurse pushing a flower cart.

  “All ready to go, Caroline?” Dr. Johansen asked cheerfully.

  “Yes, I guess so. But my headache is getting worse again.”

  “Hmm. Probably the excitement of getting out of here. I don’t know why people react to hospitals that way,” he teased as he picked up her wrist to take her pulse.