Race To The Altar. Judy Duarte

lots of space between her car and the other vehicles on the road.

      So what if she had to deal with a few impatient drivers who honked at her?

      “I’ll probably stop by sometime tomorrow,” she said, thinking it would be best if she had more daylight hours ahead of her and she didn’t have to risk being on the street at night.

      “Thanks, Molly.” Betsy smiled, but before she could add anything else, her pager went off. “Uh-oh. That’s my answering service. I’ve got to call in.”

      Molly nodded, just as her pager went off, too. She glanced at her own display screen. Room 310.

      Chase needed her.

      

      Chase lay in bed, his television on the blink. He supposed he could have used the call button, which would have paged any nurse at the desk, but it wasn’t just any nurse he wanted to see; it was Molly.

      Why did he get the feeling she was avoiding him today?

      Had he gone too far when he’d asked her to let him use her mailing address?