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Authors: Melody Anne

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BOOK: Runaway Heiress
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              He shook his head, then picked up the green lace and stuffed it in his pocket. Bree gave up and started buttoning her dress. He’d satisfied her initial itch; she could wait ten minutes to get to his bedroom before starting round two.

              “If this causes death, then yes, I am. Meet me in the bedroom and I’ll…” she whispered the rest in his ear and felt extreme pride when she watched the air leave his body and he gaped at her. She turned and ran toward the house.

              She heard him quickly catching up behind her. Just as she ran through the kitchen door, the phone went off.

              “It can wait,” he said as he pinned her to the wall.

              “You know it might be important,” she countered. She wanted to ignore it but he still didn’t have a stupid answering machine.

              “Why does this damn phone ring at the worst possible moments,” was Chad’s greeting. She giggled as she ran her hands along the bulge in his jeans.

              “When?” The tone of his voice stopped Bree. Something was wrong.

              “We’ll be there,” he said before hanging up. He turned and the look in his eye made Bree want to run. She didn’t want to know what he had to say.

              “Bree…” he began.

              “No, I don’t want to know,” she said, holding up her hand.

              “Honey, I’m sorry. It’s your dad. He’s had a heart attack.”

              Bree fainted, barely giving Chad time to catch her before she hit the kitchen floor.

Chapter Sixteen

 

              “What?” Bree asked as she came to. Chad was pressing a cold compress to her face. “What’s going on?”

              “We have to go. Your father had a heart attack. I don’t know how bad it is, they just said to get down there right away,” Chad answered. The worry in his eyes made her stomach clench. She just got her memory back. She couldn’t lose her dad – not yet. He was too young, so full of life. Their family couldn’t survive the loss. Losing their mother was hard enough.

              “I’m sorry, let’s go,” she told him as she got to her feet. Her knees were shaking but she was determined to stay strong.

              Chad placed his arm around her as he led her to his truck. They were silent on the way to the hospital, stress keeping them from speaking. Bree hadn’t told Chad she got her memory back, but that could wait.

              Chad made the normally thirty minute drive in half the time, but it still felt like it took forever. Bree was jumping from the truck before he had it in park. He quickly caught up to her as she rushed through the emergency room doors.

              “George Anderson, please,” Bree demanded.

              “One moment please,” the nurse replied as she typed on her keyboard. Bree drummed her fingernails on the counter, staring a hole through the nurse’s head. After taking much longer than Bree thought necessary, the nurse finally looked up.

              “He’s being attended to by the doctor, now. If you have a seat in the waiting room, someone will notify you of his progress as soon as we know something,” the woman said, then looked back down at her computer.

              “That’s it? You can’t give me any other information. How would you like it if it was your father back there? Would you just want to sit quietly and wait?” Bree yelled at the cold woman.

              “I’m sorry, Ma’am, but there’s no other information we have at the moment. The doctors are doing all they can,” the woman answered calmly. She was more than used to worried family members yelling at her.

              “Bree,” Joseph called as he rushed through the doors.

              Bree turned and ran to her uncle. He grabbed her up in a bear hug and she sobbed into his chest.

              “It will be okay, Sweetie. Your father is a strong man. A heart attack won’t keep him down,” Joseph said. He was trying to reassure her but she heard the worry in his tone. He was afraid for his brother.

              “They won’t tell me anything,” she sobbed.

              “He just got here about ten minutes ago. Your brother called you from the chopper. We were all at the house, having a drink and visiting, when his face got real pale and he clutched his chest. I know the signs. I’ve seen a man have a heart attack before. We got him here fast, Bree. They say the first thirty minutes are the most important. Let’s sit down and wait for the good doctor,” Joseph said, speaking far more quietly than normal. His tone scared her worse than the not knowing. Her Uncle Joseph was supposed to be loud – not sober.

              Soon, their entire family was in the waiting room, quietly talking, glancing at the clock, stress clearly visible on their faces. None of them liked the sterile room; all of them prayed George would be okay.

              They’d all spent months in the hospital when their mother was dying. It had been heartbreaking watching her slowly wither away. Bree couldn’t stand the quiet any longer. She jumped up and began pacing the room. Chad kept a close eye on her.

              “Trenton Anderson?” the desk nurse called out. Everyone stood and turned at once, causing her professionalism to slip a tad before she quickly recovered.

              “I’m Trenton,” he said as he walked over.

              “The doctor’s on his way out,” she said, making Bree want to hit her. They all turned toward the E.R. doors and waited.

              Soon, the door opened and a man walked out, looking down at a chart in his hand. The room was completely silent. He finally looked up and Trenton stepped forward.

              “Are you Trenton Anderson?”

              “Yes.”

              “I’m Doctor Michaels. Would you like to follow me so we can speak in private?”

              “No, this is all family and whatever you have to say, they’re going to need to hear,” he said, staying planted to the spot.

              “That’s your choice, Mr. Anderson. We have you listed as emergency contact, so I’ll give you the information and you can relay it. Your father had a mild heart attack known as a Posterior Infarct, also known as Inferior Infarct. There was clogging in one of the branches of his right coronary artery. We were able to help him in time, and his condition is stable right now,” the doctor said.

              Bree’s head whipped between her brother and the doctor, not understanding what they were talking about. Posterior Infarct? Inferior Infarct? What the heck? She just needed to see her father, physically see that he was okay.

              “What does this mean?” Trenton asked.

              “We need to run more test, he may need surgery, but his vitals are steady right now, which is encouraging. He’s in the E.R. so he can only have two visitors at a time, and you need to stay calm and supportive. We don’t want to raise his blood pressure, and if he thinks you’re stressed, it can cause him stress as well.”

              “I understand. Can I see him now?”

              “Yes, you can bring one person along.”

              “Please, Trenton?” Bree asked. He looked at her and held his hand out. She grabbed hold of him and followed the doctor through the double doors.

              They made their way down a long white hallway and Bree looked only forward. She could hear weeping from one of the rooms and had to fight the tears choking her throat. She hoped to not have to step foot in another hospital for many years. She knew they saved lives, but being there was draining for her soul.

              “Through here. Stay only ten minutes,” the doctor said as he pointed to a closed door. Trenton didn’t hesitate as he quietly pulled the door open.

              Bree rapidly blinked her eyes as she saw her larger-than-life father lying in the small hospital bed with wires hanging from his arms. He was so pale, except for his bright red cheeks.

              “Dad?” she whispered. If he was sleeping, she didn’t want to wake him, but she really needed to hear the sound of his voice.

              “Bree, come here, sweetheart,” he croaked, and she rushed to his bedside and sank into the chair, quickly gripping the hand he held out to her.

              “I remember, Dad,” she said, needing to tell him. His eyes widened and brightened beneath the bright hospital lights.

              “Ah, Baby, that’s so wonderful. I knew it was only a matter of time.” He knew exactly what she was talking about – of course he did, he was her Dad. She sniffled as she gave him a watery smile.

              “I promise you, I’m going to be okay. There’s no way I’m going to leave you kids. Besides, I have a brand new grandchild coming into this world who’s going to need a lot of spoiling,” he said with a gentle smile.

              “I love you so much, Dad. Don’t you ever scare me like this again,” Bree demanded.

              “I’ll try not to, Princess,” he answered, reverting to what he’d called her when she was just a young girl.

              “You gave us all quite a scare, Dad,” Trenton said as he took the seat on the opposite side of the bed.

              “Ah, boy, you know your old man’s too tough to let some clogged arteries keep him down. Stinking doctor is trying to blame food and liquor, but give me a week and I’ll be dancing circles around that young punk,” George said.

              “I’m coming home and I’ll make sure you stay on any diet the doctor puts you on. You’re not invincible,” Bree gently scolded him.

              “I’d love to have you home, Bree, but I’m the parent here,” he tried to sound commanding but couldn’t quite pull it off while lying in a small bed hooked up to machines. Bree arched her eyebrows at him.

              “We’ll discuss it later,” Bree promised. She didn’t want to cause him stress right then.

              “As much as I want you home, Bree, what will Chad think about that?” George asked.

              Bree looked at him for a moment without having an answer. She was confused. She’d only just gotten her memory back and needed to really analyze what had happened since she’d met him. They had moved so quickly in their relationship, constantly under extreme circumstances.

              “I honestly don’t know, Dad,” she answered. Even though he was hurt, he was still her father, and he always seemed to have the answers.

              “Do you love him?” he asked her.

              “Yes,” she replied as she leaned in and gave him a soft kiss on the cheek. There was no point in lying to him.

              “Mr. and Mrs. Anderson, your time is up,” a nurse interrupted as she looked in the door.

              “Come on, Betsy, they just got here,” George grumbled.

              “Don’t you dare sass me, George,” she said and it was obvious the two knew each other well. “Two more minutes,” she compromised before looking pointedly at the clock, then them. She quietly closed the door and Bree had a feeling she was waiting on the outside of it, looking at her watch.

              “We better go, Dad. You know the rest of the gang is anxious to get back here. If I’m not mistaken, Esther seemed pretty worried as she paced up and down the hallway,” Trenton said with a twinkle in his eye.

              “Don’t you be starting any rumors,” George said, but Bree noticed a bit more color infuse his cheeks. It looked to her like her father and Esther may have a little romance going on.

              “I wouldn’t think of it,” Trenton replied. He stood up and kissed George’s cheek before walking to the door and waiting for Bree to say Goodbye.

              “I love you, Daddy,” she said as she bent down and clung to him, taking in a deep breath of his special dad's scent.

              “I love you more than you could ever imagine. Now, promise me you aren’t going to worry about me. You need to be focused on my grandbaby.”

              “I can’t promise not to worry just a little bit, but I do promise to take good care of this baby,” Bree said.

              “I can settle for that,” George said with a small smile. “Now send in the troops.”

              The nurse popped back in and looked at them.

              “We’re leaving,” Trenton grumbled. She was quite the rule enforcer.

              “I’ll meet you in the lobby. I need to use the bathroom,” Bree told him. He seemed about to stop her, so she rubbed her stomach as a reminder.

              “Okay, but don’t take too long. I’m sure Chad’s already pacing the lobby while waiting for you to get back,” Trenton said. She realized her brother finally had respect for Chad. That was a good thing if there was any chance of him being her husband.

              She turned down the hall and slipped in the bathroom, where she leaned against the door and took a deep breath. She allowed the tears to fall while she sank to the floor. It hadn’t been easy for her to see the strongest man she knew looking so frail.

              She finally got up, washed her face and deemed herself ready to emerge. When she stepped from the bathroom, her body took her left instead of right, though. She didn’t want to head back to the lobby just yet. She needed a few more minutes before she faced the mob.

              Bree turned a few corners and found herself lost. She knew that wasn’t good. Chad wasn’t going to be happy with her when she didn’t return right away. Well, he’d have to get over it. They were in a public hospital where nothing could happen to her. There were security cameras and policemen all over the place.

BOOK: Runaway Heiress
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