Fortune's Cinderella by Karen Templeton Read Free Book Online Page B

Scott said, even though his own voices, making him worry and wonder about Christina, weren’t doing him any favors, either. When he spotted Blake, he waved him over. “I need to go check on my folks, but Blake will stay with you until your family arrives. And listen,” he added as he stood, “you know we’ll help in any way we can. Whatever Javier needs, it’s his. Got that?”

    Miguel looked up, hope and terror fighting for purchase in red-rimmed eyes. “Thanks.”
    “No problem.”
    Despite Emily’s warning, Scott had no choice but to confront the obviously frazzled nurse at the desk. “Yes?” she snapped, not looking at him.
    “I’d like to see my parents. Virginia Alice and John Michael Fortune?”
    “Rooms 1B and 1A,” she said, jabbing a pen over her shoulder, “right on the other side of the door—”
    “And you have another patient who came in by ambulance around the same time, Christina Hastings? Can you tell me which room she’s in?”
    “She a relative, too?”
    “No, but—”
    “Only family’s allowed to see the patients, sorry.”
    “You’re not serious?”
    She frowned up at him. “Do I look like I’m in the mood to kid around?”
    Frankly, Scott guessed that was a mood she was never in. “Then can you at least tell me her condition?”
    “No.”
    Scott leaned over the counter, close enough to make the woman back up. “If it hadn’t been for my family,” he said in a low voice,
    “it’s highly unlikely Miss Hastings would even need to be here right now. So if you don’t mind—”
    “Do you see all these people, Mr. Fortune? Do you also see how many more of them there are than us? Now, please, go see your parents and let us get on with what we’re supposed to be doing. Which includes taking care of Miss Hastings.”
    When the woman turned her back on him to answer another staff member’s question, Scott realized he’d lost that round. Which did not sit well. But, he thought as he strode toward the exam rooms, damned if he’d lose the next one.
    He heard Mike’s agitated voice before he entered their father’s cubicle. Sitting with his ankle crossed over his other knee, his brother was on his phone, conducting business as though his Gucci suit wasn’t filthy and ripped, his thousand-dollar loafers caked in mud. More than that, however, as though their father wasn’t dozing in a hospital bed six feet away, hooked up to an army of machines and looking more vulnerable—more human—than Scott had ever seen him.
    Tearing his eyes from his father, he said to Mike, “Somebody’s gonna be all over your ass about that cell phone. If I were you I’d switch to text.”
    Behind him John Michael snorted. “Took you long enough.”
    Okay, strike the vulnerable part of that description.
    “Been a little busy, Dad.” Scott glanced at his brother, getting to his feet and walking out of the cubicle, presumably to continue his conversation without interference. “And Mike’s been with you.”
    Their father grunted, his eyes drifting back closed. “True,” he said, his breathing slightly labored. “I can always count on Mike.”
    And some things never change, Scott thought, although frankly he was too worn out—and this was neither the time nor the place
    —to take umbrage. “How are you feeling?”
    “I’ve been better. But it’s nothing a good night’s sleep and some decent food won’t cure.”
    “So the pain in your chest—?”
    His eyes opened again. “Gone. For the most part. It’s nothing, don’t know why everybody’s making such a fuss. They want to keep me overnight. Can you imagine?”
    “I think that’s called doing their job.”
    John Michael pulled a face. “Sticking it to my insurance company, if you ask me. I intend to fly back tomorrow, though. You’ll make the arrangements, won’t you? Might as well fly out from San Antonio. No sense returning to Red Rock.”
    Scott crossed his arms. “Don’t you think you should wait to hear what the