by Dana Nussio
“Same.”
“Oh. Sorry.”
He didn’t remark on the fact that they’d both experienced a loss, so she didn’t bring it up, either. Since there was more to her story than she’d revealed, she figured he’d skipped a few chapters, as well.
Her daughter saved her from having to say more by wiggling in her lap and starting to fuss. Unlike the infant Asher held, Luna wasn’t a fan of sitting still and watching grown-ups talk. Willow hoped the pacifier from her bag would at least comfort her for a while.
Anne planted her elbows on her desk and clasped her hands together, drawing their attention back to her.
“Okay, here’s why I called you in today. We’ve received an anonymous call from the concerned friend of a hospital volunteer. That volunteer was worried that she accidentally switched two newborn female infants on November 2. She couldn’t stop thinking about it, but she was too afraid to speak up. Her friend reported it instead.”
“Did you say ‘anonymous’?” Willow blurted. Could it have been related to an unsigned letter she’d received the week before at the day-care center?
“How could that have happened?”
Willow blinked as the man seated next to her posed the question she should have been asking. That threatening note back at the office probably had nothing to do with this matter, and it certainly wasn’t as critical.
“And why was a volunteer even in there?” she asked. “Why would someone not even on staff have the opportunity to make a mistake like that?”
Anne opened her mouth to answer, but Asher didn’t give her the chance.
“Doesn’t this hospital have safeguards to prevent that? At least by now?”
His last comment made no sense to Willow, but she nodded anyway.
She pointed to her bare wrist. “Yeah, those bracelets that the nurse assistant checks every time she rolls a bassinet into a patient’s room should have prevented something like this.”
Anne cleared her throat, her gaze sliding to Asher before she addressed them both. “No, volunteers shouldn’t have been involved in those critical moments. And, yes, there were safeguards in place. But there were extenuating circumstances on that November day when both of your infants were born.”
“What were those?”
Asher’s voice was tight, as if he was trying to control his frustration.
“First, we were understaffed that night. Flu season hit early. Second, it was a full moon, so all the birthing rooms were occupied.”
Willow leaned forward, startling her daughter, who’d just nodded off. “You’re going to blame this on a ‘full moon’? Isn’t that an old wives’ tale anyway?”
“Ask any labor and delivery nurse, and he or she will tell you it’s not.” Anne smiled and then shook her head. “But, no, I’m not going to blame the situation on anything. I just wanted you to know how something like this could have happened this time.”
Willow nodded and gestured with a circular motion for her to continue.
“There were five infants born on that night shift, all between 2100 and 0000. That’s between nine and midnight. The nurses, volunteers and even the on-call obstetrician were quickly moving back and forth among the rooms.”
Asher straightened and shifted his contented infant higher on his thigh. “If there were five babies, why are we the only ones sitting here?”
Anne held her hands wide. “The caller said the possible switch was between two female infants. The other three born that night were males.”
Willow blinked several times, a memory popping into her thoughts. “It’s also because Luna went into distress and had to be delivered with forceps, isn’t it? She was rushed from the room right after delivery to be examined.”
“Harper had the cord around her neck,” Asher said. “So, same situation. Rushed from the birthing room. It’s still no excuse. Never was.”
“You’re right,” Anne said. “But at least we can see how a volunteer could have been called into service and how a rushed mistake could have been made when snapping on the bracelets, right?”
Willow shrugged, and Asher did the same.
When neither spoke, Anne continued with her explanation.
“We’re going to clear up these questions quickly. We’ll be conducting legally admissible maternity and paternity DNA tests, free of charge. The tests will compare twenty of your genetic markers to those of both infants and determine the probability that either of you could be a parent of either child.”
The woman’s words sounded more like a lecture in Willow’s college biology class than any real-life situation involving her and Luna.
“Why do the tests need to be legally admissible?” Willow asked, but she had already come up with her own answer before Anne lowered her head and stared at her hands. If the hospital had made the mistake, the board would expect a lawsuit. They would be getting one.
Asher’s arms tightened around his daughter, finally causing her to squirm. Willow leaned forward and studied the infant. Harper didn’t look like her. She also appeared to have a calm nature. No one would ever have described Willow that way. She was intense and always moving, more like Luna.
“This is crazy!” Asher popped to his feet, startling Harper, who whimpered. “This is my child. You might think there’s been a switch, but you’re wrong.”
Anne stood and stepped around the end of her desk. “Please take a seat, Mr. Colton. We will figure this—”
“You’re a Colton?”
Willow leaped up as well, and Luna let out a wail, her pacifier dropping. Willow was surprised that she managed to catch it. After all, the administrator had just invoked the name of the family she hated most in the world.
She bounced and swayed to calm her child before speaking again in a lower voice. “You’re Asher... Colton?”
“Yeah. So? I already introduced myself.”
“Not quite,” Anne noted. “You didn’t say your last name.”
No wonder he’d looked familiar to Willow earlier. She’d probably seen him before, holding court with the rest of his family, considered Mustang Valley’s royalty. Maybe spinning around town in one of their luxury cars.
“Please sit. You’re upsetting your daughters.”
They’d been staring warily at each other, but at Anne’s words they glanced at their own children and lowered into their seats again.
Willow’s gaze lifted to Asher again. From his innocent expression, she would have thought he’d never received a look of loathing in his life. Given his last name, she doubted that.
“So, yes, I’m a Colton, if that matters. It didn’t save me from having to be involved in a mess like this again, did it?”
Willow stared back at him. If that matters? Hell yes, it did. Then something else he’d said struck her. Again. Mustang Valley was a small town. Even before it had hit the news, she’d heard about his family’s infant-switch scandal. That didn’t mean she had to pity them.
The Coltons might have once been able to take everything from her mother, but she wouldn’t allow their Richie Rich spawn to take her only child. Even if he was Luna’s biological father.
She sneaked another peek at the infant in Asher’s lap. If Luna could be his, Harper could be hers. Could she bear living in the same town as the child she’d carried for nine months without having the chance to know or love her? On the other hand, could she give up the baby she’d nursed, diapered and loved for six months?
“I can’t do this,” she said.
“Well, then, let’s get this over with.”
Asher’s words crushed hers, contradicting them in both loyalty and intent.
Didn’t it matter to him which infant he took home? Was his daughter as interchangeable as one of the cows on the Triple R?
“We can go to the lab right now,” he continued.
Anne gripped her hands together. “Unfor
tunately, we can’t do the test today.”
“But you asked us to bring our children in immediately.”
Asher’s voice lifted an octave, but, somehow, he remained in his seat this time.
“Yes, I said that, but when I called the lab, I discovered that they were booked all day. I scheduled you both for ten tomorrow morning.”
Willow drew her brows together. “How can that be possible? This is a hospital.”
“All emergency lab work will be handled immediately,” Anne said. “But elective lab work requires an appointment.”
“You don’t call possibly switched infants an emergency?” Why was Willow making Asher’s argument for him? She wasn’t in a rush to find out answers that could crush them, but she couldn’t help herself. “Or maybe a potential lawsuit?”
Asher tilted his head, studying the administrator.
“Is that a usual practice in the lab, or were those new rules announced today?”
At his odd question, Willow peeked over at him again. She was reminded again of headlines like “Colton Oil CEO Ousted” and “Colton Patriarch Shot: Son Questioned,” in the weekly Mustang Valley Times and on the local news.
“Let me guess. Some other testing is taking priority over two six-month-olds.”
Anne straightened. “I don’t have any details regarding the backup at the lab, and, even if I did, I wouldn’t be able to discuss them because of privacy laws.”
The administrator didn’t make eye contact with Willow, but she peeked at Asher before she lowered her gaze to her hands. That tell was the only confirmation Willow needed.
Why didn’t someone just say that it had to do with the Coltons? Something bigger than even a possible mix-up of Payne Colton’s grandchild. Since the family company had paid for updates to make the hospital a state-of-the-art facility fifteen years before, they probably thought of it as one of their properties, just like they ran Colton Oil. Just like they owned Mustang Valley itself.
“Fine. Tomorrow at ten.” Asher gathered his daughter and marched out of the office.
“Fine,” Willow echoed, before collecting her diaper bag, propping Luna on her hip and stomping out after him.
He was probably just angry that the news and the delay had disrupted his schedule and his charmed life. She had more to be upset about than he did. As if it wasn’t bad enough dealing with the awful possibility that Luna might not be hers and trying to explain her inappropriate reaction to a man who’d turned out to be a Colton, now she would be forced to face him again the next day.
So, it continued. Everything bad in her life started out with the Coltons and only went downhill from there.
Chapter 3
“I didn’t think you’d ever call,” the woman whined into the phone the moment she answered.
His sigh came through the line, just as she caught sight of her profile in the mirror. Neck skin taut. Face flawless, she decided, as she brushed her fingertips along her own jawline. Still beautiful. She’d deserved better than she’d been given.
“Are you listening to me?”
“What? Oh. What did you say?”
“I said I told you I would call as soon as it was done. And I did.”
“Yes, you did.” She pushed her shoulders back and faced the mirror straight on. The last thing she needed was for there to be frustration in the ranks. Not when she was so close to getting the revenge that she’d craved so deeply it felt embedded in her soul.
“You always keep your promises...for us. And I appreciate each one.”
He harrumphed. “That’s better.”
The man filled her in on the newest development that had required creativity outside her specific instructions. She wouldn’t stomp on the guy’s ideas when he was helping her to get what she wanted.
“Why does it matter?” he asked in the cajoling tone that had long since begun to annoy her.
“What are you talking about?”
“Him. Why does he still matter?”
Because he did. Why couldn’t the guy get it through his marble-sized brain? Wasn’t it bad enough that she’d been forced to see a reminder of all she’d lost right downtown that morning? She smoothed her hands over her floral-print skirt and matching summer sweater set.
“Like I said before, I need to put this behind me, put him behind me, so I can think about only you.” She paused to turn on the syrupy charm. “That’s what you want, isn’t it? It’s what I want.”
She nearly choked on her own saccharine tone, but when he didn’t respond immediately, she knew he was still on board. For now. She gave him his next instructions, made some promises that she would keep when hell was covered with ice cubes and then clicked off the phone with barely a goodbye.
Despite too many delays, her plan was finally coming along. Someone in Mustang Valley was going down. Soon. Once that happened, she could kick her assistant to the curb, as well.
* * *
Asher strapped Harper in her stroller, slid off the silly headband that one of the new housekeepers had insisted went with that dress and popped her favorite car-keys-style teething toy in her chubby hands. Then, taking a deep breath, he wheeled her down the hall to the entrance.
“Let’s get you out of here so you can have a fresh diaper.”
He could pretend that escaping that office was for his daughter’s sake, but he was the one who had to get out before he said something that could make things worse. As if that was even possible. No, they’d hit the rock bottom of horrible the moment he’d received the news that his child might not be his.
Now the DNA test to prove or disprove that premise would be delayed so that the hospital lab could fawn over his family and confirm whether Jace was the real Ace.
He pushed the button for the hospital’s wheelchair-accessible door and waited for it to swing open before pushing the stroller through. “You okay, little darlin’?”
He could have kicked himself for his outburst in the administration office that made Harper tear up, but she seemed to have no lasting effects. Instead, she happily chewed on her keys, still the same sunshine she’d been every day of her life, no matter who provided day care for her.
She pulled the toy away from her lips and began another round of her “da-da-da-da” song that she’d begun recently, though she hadn’t added any more words to her collection yet. A lump of emotion collected in his throat. Her tune got him every time.
As he reached the curb of the circular drive where cars lined to pick up patients, he paused. Willow Merrill hadn’t caught up with him, but why did he care? She wanted nothing to do with him, and that feeling was mutual. What was her problem anyway? From the moment she’d learned his last name, she’d looked furious.
What had his family done this time? Had one of his brothers dated her and dumped her in the past? Asher might have had his share of dating escapades, before Nora, but he was innocent when it came to Willow Merrill. He’d never met her before. He was certain of it.
There was no way he would have forgotten those intense eyes, the color of the seasoned terra-cotta pots at the main house, not to mention that mass of deep brown curls. Luna had twisted her fingers in it a few times while they’d sat in that office. He hated that he’d been jealous of that baby and her lucky hands.
Asher blinked away the image and the unwelcome tingles that came with it. What was he thinking? He didn’t date anymore. He wanted only one female in his life, and this one needed him to provide regular bottles, fun nighttime baths and dry diapers in addition to the lavish attention she deserved.
He wouldn’t let Harper down by losing focus on what was important. He was her dad. First. Always. And if he were considering some private comfort, it wouldn’t be with someone who could take away his child.
“Were you waiting for me?”
Asher jerked his head to find the woman he had not just been thinking about
pushing her stroller up behind him.
“No. Just trying to catch my breath.” At least the second part was true. If he had been waiting for her, it was only because he’d learned she owned a day-care center. There couldn’t be any other reason.
“I get that.”
Willow appeared to be taking a few fortifying breaths herself as she stared out into the parking lot. She was tall, he couldn’t help noticing. Barely shorter than his six feet in height, even in slip-on tennis shoes. Her legs were also impossibly long beneath the cuffs of her jean shorts. He hadn’t missed those legs before, but he doubted any straight man under ninety would have. And those older than that, only because they wouldn’t get a good look at them. Willowy. Strange how she seemed to fit her name, as if her parents had done an excellent job of predicting the statuesque woman their daughter would become.
In the stroller next to her, Luna flailed her arms and struggled against her harness straps as if to remind him she was there.
“You hate being trapped in there, don’t you, Miss Luna?” He smiled down at her. “Couldn’t blame her if she hates this whole day. I know I do.”
Willow’s posture drooped then, her head tilting forward, as if the weight of the information they’d learned that morning had parked on her shoulders. Her hands shifted from the stroller handle to the base of her neck, where she bunched those riotous curls.
She must have misjudged the ramp on the pavement, though, as the stroller pitched forward. A shriek escaping her throat, she lunged for it, but Asher caught the runaway cart first, while keeping one hand on Harper’s stroller.
“Whoa there, NASCAR Nellie. Trying to make a break for it?”
“Thanks for the catch,” she said as she reclaimed the handle, “but she probably isn’t in the mood for jokes after that meeting. She’s been working up to a good cry from the moment we got here. And you can see how much she hates her stroller.”
Asher would have asked Willow if she was talking about her daughter or herself when she’d spoken of the impending tears, if Luna hadn’t picked the moment to prove her wrong by throwing her head back and giggling.
