Juanita down the hall. “Can you call up to Pediatrics for a bed? Nelson will no doubt admit her until her glucose levels are stable. Her name is Claire Griffin.”
“Will do. Any luck contacting a responsible party?” Juanita asked when they stopped at reception. She nodded her head toward her computer. “Insurance information would be real nice.”
“All I have so far is the name.” Anne grabbed the blinking phone on the counter. “Matson, here.”
“Anne, it’s Sam. I just had a call from a Delia Seville. She’s hysterical. Says her husband is in the ER. She doesn’t have any transportation to hospital, and on top of that, her friend’s little girl is missing. Apparently, Mrs. Seville was babysitting.”
“Seville? One of the two men from the construction accident is Manny Seville. We admitted him.”
“Was the other guy Matthew Clark? First Construction?”
“Yes. He’s still here. Right now he’s in Orthopedics being evaluated. Why?”
“I think that’s his little girl I brought in. The Seville woman says she was with a black Lab.”
Anne nearly gasped aloud.
Matt has a daughter?
“Anne? You still there?”
“Yes. Sorry. Sam. The girl’s name is Claire Griffin.”
“That’s her.”
“I’ll have someone notify Matthew Clark.”
“Thanks. I’m going to give Mrs. Seville and her baby a ride to the hospital.”
“Her husband’s stable. Tell her that. And thanks, Sam.” Anne put down the phone.
Matt has a daughter? Her mind played the words over and over. Well, what did she expect? That his life was going to stop when she walked out on him?
She turned to Juanita. “I’ve got a responsible party to sign your insurance paperwork on that little girl.”
“Thank you.” Juanita’s eyes lit up.
“Matthew Clark. He’s still upstairs. Tell him we have his daughter down here and get him to sign the permission to treat while you’re at it.”
Juanita shook her head. “Aw, now you’re going to ruin my day. Do not tell me that man has another wife.”
“Another wife?”
“Besides you, I mean.”
Anne could feel her facing warming. “I don’t know anything about Mr. Clark, Juanita, but I feel confident you’re going to find out.”
“You know me too well.” She scooped her clipboard off the desk and headed toward the elevators.
Anne gripped the counter and turned to stare at the wall. She did the math. A nine-year-old daughter.
That would be shortly after her aunt had had the marriage annulled and transferred her from the University of Denver to Washington State to finish her degree.
She’d spent the better part of three years completely heartbroken but unwilling to defy her aunt. Her sole guardian.
Aunt Lily had warned her that a future with Matthew Clark was building her house on unstable ground. He was a penniless student with no prospects. Love, she’d claimed, was fleeting, especially when there was no money in the bank.
All these years, and her aunt had been proved correct. Anne had mistaken what she and Matt had had for love. Clearly he had no such illusions and had moved on with his life quickly enough, as though their love had never existed.
* * *
Matt stood in the door of his daughter’s room, resting his weight on his new aluminum crutches.
“Mr. Clark, you’re just in time,” the nurse who stood at Claire’s bed said. “I’m Megan Jansen, the diabetic nurse educator.”
He bit back a surge of pain as he moved into the room and shook her hand.
“Are you okay?” she asked with a quick glance down at his ankle in the plastic support boot.
He nodded. Yeah, he was okay. Glad to have dodged the need for surgery, but a badly sprained ankle requiring a walking boot and crutches wasn’t what he had expected when he’d rolled out of bed this morning.
“We were about to go over the use of the meter,” Megan said with a soothing tone. “I’ve got a warm washcloth to clean Claire’s hand and stimulate the flow of blood to her finger.”
“I don’t want to,” Claire responded. She forcibly tugged her hand away and turned her head toward the window.
“We can’t discharge you until you or your father demonstrates the ability to use the meter and administer the injections.”
“He can do it,” Claire said. The words were a sullen accusation, as though Matt had added yet another heap of misery into her young life.
Matt feared she was right.
Across the room, Megan Jansen’s gaze pleaded with Matt to intervene.
“Claire, we want you to get better,” Matt said.
“There’s nothing wrong with me. I feel fine.”
The nurse stood and moved her equipment to the bedside table. “I think it’s time for your father to try. The sooner we get this done and get you home, the better.”
“He’s not my father and I don’t have a home...” Claire’s voice trailed off and her eyes filled with moisture.
Matt’s gut clenched. Could he blame her? Claire’s world had been turned upside down in the past month. She’d gone from living with her mother in Denver one day to living with a man she didn’t know the next.
Confusion registered on the nurse’s face as she looked at him. “I thought you were her father.”
“I am—”
“I want Anne,” Claire interrupted with a pitiful wail.
“Anne?” Megan asked, her gaze moving from Claire to him, her brow furrowed yet again.
“Claire, who is Anne?” Matt asked, as a prickle of apprehension swept over him. Surely she didn’t mean...
“That nurse,” his daughter answered.
“From the emergency room?” he asked.
“The ER nursing supervisor,” Megan clarified.
“She’s the supervisor?” he countered.
“Yes.” She glanced at her watch and nodded toward the door, indicating he should follow.
Matt hobbled outside the room right behind her.
“Why is she asking for Anne?” Megan asked.
“I have no idea. Claire was admitted while I was in X-ray.”
“You know she’s off duty now, right?”
Matt could only nod and raise a palm. What was he supposed to do now?
“My mother is a very close friend of Anne’s. I can call her. She’ll try to get in touch with—”
“No. I can’t... I can’t bother her.” Especially not after his lousy attitude in the exam room.
“I think you’d better.” Megan paused. “What other choice do you have?”
“Why tonight? Can’t we wait until morning? After the doctor checks on her? Claire’s spending the night anyhow.”
“Anne might not even be scheduled to work tomorrow. I think it would be prudent for me to at least have my mother call her.”
“But