Kim Watters - And Father Makes Three

“Your daughter needs you.”

She’s saved countless lives, yet there’s one person emergency room doctor Elizabeth Randall can’t rescue—her adopted daughter, Jordan. Perhaps meeting her biological father, Blake Crawford, will be the lifeline Jordan needs. The handsome, guarded firefighter takes risks every day. But facing the daughter he never knew—along with lovely Elizabeth—has him thinking about family. With fatherhood thrust suddenly upon him, there’s no way he can turn his back on his sick child. Will working together to give Jordan a second chance at life also lead them to a chance at love?

“You can’t save Jordan?”

Anger and despair warred in his blue eyes and held her in her seat. And behind that she sensed a parent in need of something. She’d seen it too many times in the E.R.

She leaned forward and clasped her hands over his. “I can’t, but you can. Maybe. If you’re a match.”

What if he contested the adoption? What if he sued for custody? Yanking her hands away from his, she clenched them together and held them on the table by sheer force. What she wanted to do was bang them up and down to relieve the tension exploding inside her. Elizabeth wondered how long she had to stay. Her feet already pointed toward the door and it wouldn’t take much to convince them to flee.

“What do you want from me, Blake?” Elizabeth forced the words through clenched teeth.

“To see my daughter. To be her father.”

KIM WATTERS

At twelve years old, Kim fell in love with romance after she borrowed a Harlequin Romance book from her older sister’s bookshelf. An avid reader, she was soon hooked on the happily-ever-after endings. For years she dreamed of writing her own romance novel, but never had the time until she moved from the hustle and bustle of Chicago to a small town north of Phoenix, Arizona.

Kim still lives in that same small town with her two wonderful children, three cats and one neurotic hamster.

And Father Makes Three

Kim Watters

www.millsandboon.co.uk

I will lead the blind by ways they have not known; along unfamiliar paths I will guide them;

I will turn the darkness into light before them

and make the rough places smooth.

These are the things I will do; I will not forsake them.

—Isaiah 42:16

For Carol Herra and her entire support team.

They never gave up, and through the grace of God, Carol is here today with us because of

the willingness of a bone marrow donor.

I’d like to thank the following groups and staff

for all their help with my research for this book.

The Leukemia and Lymphoma Society, www.lls.org/

Be The Match Foundation, www.marrow.org/

The National Marrow Donor Program,

www.marrow.org/

And all the others who tirelessly answered

my questions and didn’t want to be named. Thanks.

I couldn’t have done it without you.

Disclaimer: Any errors or inaccuracies contained within this are the sole responsibility of the author and not of the organizations listed above.

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Epilogue

Dear Reader

Questions for Discussion

Excerpt

Chapter One

“Dr. Randall? Dr. Elizabeth Randall?” Pulling her focus from the patient chart in front of her, Elizabeth Randall snapped her attention to the tall man next to her. Anger simmered beneath her calm facade as she took in his brown hair and strong jawline covered with a hint of a five o’clock shadow. Under any other circumstances, she might have found the stranger attractive.

Not now.

“Yes. I was wondering when you’d get here.”

It was about time someone from Child Protective Services showed up. Mario Martinez-Alvarez had been at Agnes P. Kingfisher Memorial Hospital in Scottsdale, Arizona, just under two hours waiting for a caseworker to appear. The child’s black eye and broken ribs had not been caused by a simple fall from a high chair. Mario’s stepfather had been taken into custody and the mother had yet to be found.

Unlike some, Mario would recover, but each time a young innocent victim came through the hospital doors, her heart broke at the injustice. Children were precious. A gift from God that some people took for granted.

Not Elizabeth. Her fingers tightened on the pen in her hand until it became painful.

“Excuse me? You know why I’m here?”

“Of course. The boy has been transferred upstairs. Dr. Harris is his attending now.” After signing her name, Elizabeth closed the chart and turned slightly so she could rest against the nurses’ station. She took in the man’s casual clothing—a dark blue Phoenix Fire Department T-shirt and jeans. In all her experience with CPS caseworkers, she’d yet to come across one dressed so casually, who didn’t carry a briefcase or at least a notebook or day planner of some sort.

Maybe she’d been hasty in her assessment. “You are with CPS, aren’t you?”

Uncertainty clouded his blue eyes as he shifted his weight. “No, I work for the City of Phoenix Fire Department.”

“Oh. Sorry.” Elizabeth softened her tone, feeling guilty for letting her bad day affect her work. It wasn’t his fault her adopted daughter, Jordan, had developed another infection at her IV site. Crossing her arms, she gave the man her full attention. Concern furrowed the lightly tanned skin on his forehead. “How may I help you then, Mr.…?”

“Blake Crawford. Blake William Crawford.”

He spoke his name as if she should know him. He looked vaguely familiar now. If he worked for the fire department, it was quite possible she’d seen him bring in a patient or two, but they’d never been formally introduced. She’d remember meeting someone like him.

She grasped his extended hand, surprised to feel a slight connection. She shook it off as fatigue.

“Dr. Elizabeth Randall. But you knew that. I’m afraid I’m at a disadvantage here.”

“I need to talk to you about my daughter.”

“Your daughter?” No female children had been brought into the E.R. today and she’d already met the fathers of the few who had come in over the past week. None of them were Blake Crawford. “I don’t believe I’ve met your daughter. When was she brought in?”

“She wasn’t.”

“Then I’m afraid I can’t help you. Have you spoken to her pediatrician?”

“I have no idea who her pediatrician is. She doesn’t live with me.” He ran a hand through his short, cropped hair as his gaze darted around the area before it returned to her. “She’s with you.”

Elizabeth felt the blood drain from her face and she forgot to breathe. That meant—impossible. Nobody knew the identity of Jordan’s biological father. Not even her. She gasped, trying to fill her lungs with air.

A few doctors and nurses milled around the nurses’ station, watching them with interest as they waited for new patients to arrive. Elizabeth wondered if she was being set up. She glanced at the nurse behind the desk. Lidia busied herself with some paperwork and refused to look up. That was it.

This had all the makings of a great April Fool’s Day and birthday prank.

No one got through their special day in the E.R. without some sort of recognition. At least they hadn’t sent a singing telegram like they had with Dr. Kennedy, or worse like they had with Dr. Emory. But this was cruel. Especially with Jordan’s precarious health. Someone would get a good talking to when Blake fessed up. “Which one of my coworkers put you up to this?”