Tina Radcliffe - Rocky Mountain Reunion

“Your last name?”

“Griffin.”

“How old are you, Claire?”

“Nine.” She blinked. “Where am I?”

“In the hospital.”

Claire’s eyes widened. “Am I going to die?”

“No. You’re going to get better and go home. Can you tell me what happened today?”

The girl swallowed, as if her tongue was thick, but didn’t answer.

Leaning forward, Anne offered her chilled water from a plastic cup with a straw. The girl eagerly drank and then leaned back again.

Anne lowered her face closer to the bed. “Claire, what happened today?” she repeated softly.

“I took Stanley for a walk and then I started feeling funny. So I sat down on the bench. I feel better now.” She raised her head and glanced around. “Where’s Stanley?” The whispered words were laced with panic.

“Stanley is fine. He’s at the vet’s. They’re taking good care of him.”

Claire’s head sank back against the pillow.

“I need to contact your mother,” Anne said.

One by one, a silent trail of tears rolled down Claire’s cheek. She didn’t wipe at them. It was as though she didn’t even realize they were there.

Tightness pressed Anne’s chest as she waited for the words she didn’t want to hear.

“My mother is... She died,” she said, her voice heavy and slow.

Oh, Lord. Not this little girl, too?

“I’m so sorry,” Anne murmured, knowing the words were ineffectual at best. Before her brain registered what she was doing, she reached out to hold Claire’s free hand and give it a squeeze. “My momma died when I was your age.”

“Maybe they’re in heaven together,” Claire whispered.

Anne nodded, surprised yet pleased at the words.

The girl was silent, as though considering the possibility.

“Where’s your father, Claire?”

“Call Delia. I stay with Delia during the day. She lives on Maple Street by the church.”

A knock on the door to the exam room preceded Marta’s entrance. Anne stood and joined Marta in the hall, leaving the door ajar so she could watch Claire.

“Labs?” Anne asked.

Marta nodded. “Tox screen came back negative. Blood alcohol negative. Glucose six hundred.”

Anne shook her head. “Thanks, Marta. Tell Nelson we need insulin dosing ASAP.”

“Done. He’s on the way.”

“You’re good,” Anne commented.

“I sit at the feet of the master.” Marta quietly chuckled as Anne slipped back into the room.

“Claire, has anyone ever told you that you’re diabetic?”

“I don’t know what that is.”

“You haven’t been to the doctor recently?”

“No. There’s nothing wrong with me. I never get sick.”

“Phone for you, Anne,” Juanita called from the open doorway.

Anne stood.

“No. Don’t go.” Claire voice was laced with panic and she reached out a hand to stop Anne, her fingers clinging to the scrub shirttail.

Juanita lifted her brows.

“I’ll be right back. I promise.” Anne held the girl’s hand for a moment and smiled.

“She likes you,” Juanita said, confusion in her eyes as she glanced from the bed to Anne.

“Thanks for the vote of confidence there, pal,” Anne returned.

“The kids usually bond with Marta. She’s the mothering type. That’s all I’m saying.”

Anne’s head swiveled to Juanita. “Excuse me?”

“Sorry, boss. I just meant...”

“This one has been through a rough time. I can relate. She reminds me of myself at her age.”

“Now you’re going to try to tell me that you were a kid once?” Juanita asked with a teasing grin.

“You’re a real hoot today, aren’t you?”

“Every day. All part of my job description.”

Anne washed her hands and followed 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.”