The Bachelor's Brighton Valley Bride (Return to Brighton Valley) (7 page)

That, of course, was another reason for him to get things worked out at the store, hire new employees if need be and then leave town for good.

As Clay followed the gurney to the front of the store, Megan had already scrawled out a note and was placing it on the front door, oblivious to the paramedic’s interest in her and her endowments.

But the guy was busy now, too, getting Don loaded into the ambulance. Once the gurney was secured in the back, Clay climbed in and took a seat near Don’s head.

The ambulance took off, the shrill sound of the siren letting the other cars on the road know they needed to pull over.

“I’m going to get an IV started on him,” the female paramedic said. “He’s dehydrated. Besides, they might need to administer meds when we get him to the hospital, so this will speed things up.”

Clay nodded, glad that the stud muffin was the one driving so Clay wouldn’t be forced to put him in his place. There wasn’t anything professional about checking out single mothers when a man ought to be doing his job.

Heck, maybe Clay would even benefit from that conversation. He knew he’d been guilty of the exact same thing, but that was different.

The ride to the medical center took less than five minutes, and as the hospital personnel rushed into action, Clay was handed a plastic bag with Don’s personal effects and then told to take a seat in the waiting room.

He’d hardly had a chance to find an empty chair when a tall woman with a headful of tiny braids, a pearly-white smile and Mickey Mouse scrubs introduced herself as LaRonda, the admissions clerk. Clay followed her to a small desk. After taking a seat, he opened up Don’s wallet to get the man’s driver’s license and insurance card.

As LaRonda keyed in the needed information Clay was able to now provide, Clay noticed a few pictures tucked into the wallet. He felt like a voyeur looking at someone else’s personal effects, but what else was he supposed to do while he sat there?

“I just love Don,” LaRonda said as she continued to enter data into the computer.

The medical center probably taught their personnel to make small talk with scared family members, but Clay couldn’t really respond. In fact, he felt like a fraud sitting here because he really didn’t know the man at all.

“His wife Cindy is in here all the time,” LaRonda continued. “And you’ll never see a more loving husband. My stars, how he dotes on his wife.”

As Clay glanced at Don’s wallet, looking for anything that should be reported to the doctors or the staff, he spotted a picture of what appeared to be a wedding photo of a much younger, much thinner Don and a smiling bride he assumed was Cindy. The next picture was a shot of the two of them on the beach, arms wrapped around each other, with three little kids playing in the sand. The third picture was definitely more recent and showed Cindy holding a sign that said Happy 65th Birthday! Let’s Drive into Our Retirement Sunset! She was standing in front of a motor home that was decorated with a bright red bow.

The next slot didn’t hold a picture. It held a business card for a local oncologist that had Cindy’s name written on the front along with the time of her next chemo appointment.

A sense of dread settled into Clay’s stomach. Instead of embarking on their retirement dream, Don was nursing his wife through cancer. He wondered if the couple had ever had time to embark on any trips in that new motor home. Judging by the birth date listing Don as four months past his sixty-fifth birthday, Clay doubted it.

“Uh-oh.” LaRonda squinted at her screen and moved her reading glasses to the top of her braided hair.

“What?” Clay didn’t like where this was heading.

“It looks like the Carpenters have exhausted their insurance limits for the year because of Cindy’s treatments. That chemo can get real expensive.”

“So you’re saying the insurance won’t cover Don’s medical bills?” Clay wondered what kind of low-budget rinky-dink insurance policy the Carpenters had. “Who’s their insurance provider?”

LaRonda told Clay the name of his own insurance company and added, “It looks like his employer only provides the basics.”

Clay cringed at the implication. Geekon was a multibillion-dollar industry, and while Clay knew he couldn’t be held accountable for every HR decision, he found it appalling that his company hadn’t provided better for its employees. Some heads back at corporate were going to roll when Clay got done with them.

“Don’t worry about the extra cost,” he told LaRonda. “I’m a corporate accountant for Zorba the Geek’s, and the company will pick up the costs of Mr. Carpenter’s hospital bill. We’ll pick up the excess of Cindy’s treatments, too.”

He reached for his phone. He had to tell Zoe to expect a call from the Brighton Valley Medical Center and to set up a meeting with whoever was responsible for purchasing the company’s health-care policy. But his phone wasn’t clipped to his belt. Where had he used it last?

Then he realized Megan must still have it since she’d used it to call 911.

Dammit.
He needed to get it back before his whole undercover identity got blown to pieces.

Chapter Six

M
egan found a parking spot near the entrance to the emergency room and pulled her car into the tight space. Before climbing out and locking the doors, she grabbed a lightweight navy blue cardigan she’d intended to drop off at the dry cleaner and slipped it on, buttoning it up as she walked toward the hospital entrance.

There was no way she’d run around town in the green shirt that kept popping buttons, but she hadn’t wanted to take time to go home and change clothes, especially since Sam and Caroline had offered to drive Lisa to the house, where Tyler was, and watch both kids there.

She knew that she probably wasn’t needed at the hospital, but she couldn’t help worrying about Don. Besides, Peyton was going to need a ride back to the shop. And besides that, she had to give him back his cell phone, which had been vibrating almost nonstop since he’d left without it.

Amid all the chaos surrounding the 911 call, she’d neglected to return it before he’d taken off with Don in the ambulance. And judging by the way the display screen kept lighting up with “Call From Zoe,” she feared he was missing some pretty important calls.

As she entered the medical center through the automatic doors, she again checked to make sure her cardigan was buttoned to the very top. After the display of lace and skin she’d been showing off all day, she was tempted to stay covered up until winter.

She made her way to the information desk and told the volunteer that she was looking for Don Carpenter.

The older woman clicked away on her computer before turning to Megan with a smile. “He’s on the second floor—in room two eighteen.”

That meant he’d been admitted. But at least he wasn’t in the ICU. That was good, wasn’t it?

Megan thanked the woman, then headed toward the elevator just as Peyton’s cell phone again buzzed in her pants pocket.

Up until now, she’d been trying her best to ignore it, but on the outside chance that the call was a work-related emergency, she thought it might be a good idea to check and see. After all, she was a Zorba’s employee, too. Maybe the powers that be in the corporate office would realize that the people working at the Brighton Valley store were able to handle a crisis.

She pulled out the cell phone and glanced at the lighted display, noting that instead of a phone call, he’d received a text from someone named Collette. She meant to ignore it, but her finger slipped on the touch screen, and the white text box shot to life.

I’ll be flying in tonight. Dinner? Drinks? Or something else...?

Okay, so that certainly wasn’t a work-related message.

As the elevator doors sprung open, her stomach tightened, and heat spread up her neck and cheeks. The last thing she needed was for Peyton to catch her reading his private messages. So she thrust the offending cell phone back into her pocket.

Yet the warmth in her face didn’t disperse—nor did the knot that had formed in her tummy the moment she realized a woman wanted Peyton to join her for dinner or drinks—or
whatever.

Surely her reaction had nothing to do with jealousy. After all, what did she care if he was seeing a woman who sounded like a...a...French bimbo?

Okay, so maybe there was a small smidgen of green-eyed something or other going on inside. But there certainly
shouldn’t
be.

Two nurses rushed by, pushing a cart holding an array of computerized medical equipment, which reminded her of where she was and why she was here. She’d come to check on Don. Nothing else mattered.

As she rounded the corner toward room 218, she pulled up short when she spotted Peyton standing outside talking to a pregnant woman in a white lab coat. Megan recognized her as Dr. Betsy Nielson, the E.R. doctor who’d treated Tyler’s broken arm when he’d fallen from the peach tree last summer.

Dr. Nielson was married to Jason Alvarez, although she’d kept her own name.

Peyton ran a hand through his hair, and as much as Megan hated to admit it, he looked just as sexy as ever, causing a tingle to start in her core.

Wait. That wasn’t a tingle. It was a vibrating phone.

She pulled the ringing cell from her pocket, then crossed the hall and joined him and the doctor. “Excuse me,” she said, as she thrust the phone at him, wanting to get rid of it.

And maybe to get rid of him, too.

As Peyton excused himself and stepped aside to take the call, Megan asked the doctor, “How’s Don Carpenter doing?”

“He’s resting. We have him hooked up to an IV, and I’ve run some preliminary tests.”

“Was it a heart attack or a stroke?”

“I don’t think so. But we’re still evaluating him.”

“Will he be all right?”

“He’s stable.”

“Good.” Megan shot a glance at Peyton, watched him scan his missed-calls list. At least he was polite enough not to take that phone call in the middle of a busy hospital wing.

“The EKG doesn’t show signs of trauma,” Dr. Nielson said, “but we’re still waiting for his blood work.”

“Have you talked to his wife?” Megan had called Cindy earlier to let her know what was going on, but there hadn’t been an answer. She assumed the woman was resting and knew she was too ill to drive to the hospital on her own.

“Yes, Mr. Johnson got her number from the patient when he was a bit more lucid. I spoke to her and let her know what was going on. I also called her oncologist just so he’d know what she was dealing with. She plans to have her neighbor bring her over first thing in the morning. Plus, when Mr. Carpenter wakes up tonight, his assigned nurse can help him call home. In the meantime, it’s best if we let him get all the rest he can.”

“Thank you so much, Dr. Nielson.”

“According to Mr. Johnson, Don should be thanking you. He said you acted very quickly and were in control of the situation the entire time. Don is lucky he has someone like you working for him at the shop. Oh, and speaking of Zorba’s, Mayor Mendez told my husband about the one-day sale you’re having on laptops. My husband stopped by the shop, but it was closed. Now I realize why. But is the deal still available online? I wanted to get one as a gift for my niece. She’ll be going off to college in the fall.”

“I’m not sure, but Peyton has a contact in the corporate office. Her name is Zoe. She’s the one who approved of the initial sale. While I had his cell phone, her number popped up numerous times today, so I have it memorized.”

After Megan provided Zoe’s contact information, Dr. Nielson thanked her and headed back to the E.R. just as Peyton returned from scanning his phone and checking his messages.

Megan couldn’t help but wonder if he’d texted Collette—and if so, what he’d told her.

Peyton merely stared at her. By the way he was biting on the inside of his cheek, he looked as though he wanted to say something.

“So it appears that Don is okay,” Megan said. “At least for now.”

“Um. Yeah.”

Why was he looking at her that way? Was he upset that she’d accidentally kept his cell phone? Did he realize she’d read Collette’s text?

“They’re going to keep him here for a couple of days,” Peyton added. “Then he’ll have to be off for at least a week so he can recuperate at home. But I’ll stick around and help out. I’d hate to leave you to man the shop all on your own.”

That meant they’d be working together—just the two of them. And for longer than she’d expected.

But there were more important things to worry about.

“Poor Don,” she said. “He really needs this job. You don’t think he’ll get fired for taking too much time off, do you?”

Peyton touched his nose again. He had this funny habit of running his index finger along the bridge of his nose as if he were pushing a pair of glasses back in place, even though he didn’t wear them. She’d noticed him doing it several times, and she found it kind of quirky—but cute.

When he caught her watching him, he shoved his hands into his pockets. “I don’t think he’ll get fired—or suffer too much financially by being off work. The company has a sunshine fund set up for situations like this. Plus, now it makes sense why things were going downhill over th... I mean, why we... Oh heck, you know what I’m trying to say. It just all makes more sense now. And I’m sure the corporate office will work with Don until he gets back on his feet and is able to take over running the store again.”

“Hmm.”

“Hmm, what?” Peyton asked.

“Hmm, we’ll see about that. I’ve never really trusted big corporations. I’m a small-town girl. Everyone looks out for each other here. But out there?” Megan gestured toward the window that looked out at the big, wide world. “Companies like Geekon Enterprises don’t really look out for the little people. That’s why I’ve been so stressed about having you here. I worried you’d report back to them and tell them that Don and I needed to be replaced.”

Megan hadn’t meant to voice her fears out loud, but the adrenaline dump had kicked in, and she wondered if her and Peyton becoming a team during the emergency had made her feel more comfortable with him.

“What exactly would there be to report?” he asked.

“Oh, you know. That Mr. Carpenter has been a little scattered, that he’s had to take a lot of time off lately, that the paperwork isn’t organized. That he should be let go. But he really needs this job, as well as the medical insurance, even though it’s a pretty low-rate plan.”

Peyton tensed.

“I don’t mean to sound disloyal,” she said. “I’m sure Don is thrilled to have health insurance through the company. But just between you and me, it’s only going to cover the cost of Cindy’s basic treatments.”

“I hear that the plan is going to improve—and that their coverage is better than they thought.”

“I hope you’re right.” She offered him a smile. “Please don’t say anything to anyone back at the corporate office. I need my job, too. And while the shop hasn’t been running smoothly for a while, I’m trying to fix things. And now that you’re helping me get the new accounting system in place, everything should be back to normal soon—especially when Don gets off bed rest.”

Judging from the furrowed line between Peyton’s brows, Megan suspected that she’d unloaded way too much on the poor man. But goodness, what a relief it was to finally get it off her chest and to no longer feel as though she had to hide anything.

“I’ll make a few calls. I’m sure no one will lose their job over this. Besides, between the two of us, we can get the shop back in shape before Don gets back. That should make the big guys over at corporate take notice, right?”

Megan appreciated Peyton’s attempt to console her. Maybe he really was on her and Don’s side. She still didn’t trust corporations, though. But maybe she could trust him.

“That’s sweet of you to offer, Peyton.” She placed a hand on his arm, felt the corded muscles tense under her fingers, felt the heat of his body.

He looked down to where her hand rested on his arm, and she withdrew her fingers immediately.

She hadn’t meant to get so touchy-feely, especially since it appeared that he was taken.

Or that Collette certainly wanted him to be taken.

“Uh, is there a cab company or something in this town that I can call? I rode in the ambulance here and don’t have a way to get back to the shop.”

“Oh, my gosh! Of course. That’s another reason I’m here. I planned to give you a ride. Just let me go peek in on Don before we leave.”

“Okay, thanks. I have to make a few calls, so I’ll be over here in the waiting area.”

Megan remembered all those missed calls. “Oh, by the way, Zoe has been trying to reach you. I didn’t want to answer your phone. But after talking to Dr. Nielson, maybe I should have. I told everyone in the diner today about the sale on laptops, and since we had to close the shop down, Zoe has probably been getting a ton of calls.”

Peyton scrunched his face as if he’d just caught a whiff of a dirty bedpan.

“But don’t worry, Peyton. I’m sure she processed those orders from everyone who called and gave you credit for them. Just think, with that kind of boost in sales, those corporate bigwigs at Geekon might see you as more than just an accountant. They might even give you a promotion.”

“Lucky me,” Peyton said. “I might end up owning the company.”

Megan laughed. Imagine that. Peyton as the CEO. She’d never seen a picture of Clayton Jenkins, nor did she know anything about the man. But she could imagine what he’d be like if she ever did cross paths with him—too smart and greedy and highfalutin for his own good.

* * *

Clay stood in the hallway, his cell phone in hand, and watched Megan enter Don’s room. She was still chuckling over the thought of Peyton Johnson heading up the company someday, so he assumed she hadn’t uncovered his identity yet.

Apparently, Megan might be a beautiful, nurturing woman, but she wasn’t a snoop. He couldn’t say that about a lot of people who knew that he was actually Clay Jenkins, the CEO of Geekon Enterprises.

And he had to admit, if he were to make a note of Megan’s admirable qualities, the list would be growing.

While she checked in on Don, Clay walked into the empty second-floor waiting room to call Zoe.

His efficient executive assistant picked up on the first ring. “What in the world is going on over there?”

Had she already heard about Don’s collapse? He’d planned to inform her, but without his cell phone, he hadn’t been able to do so yet. Maybe LaRonda, the admissions clerk, had already contacted the home office and they’d alerted her.

“Don Carpenter, the manager of the Brighton Valley store, was rushed to the hospital,” he said. “The doctors are still examining him, so I don’t know any more than that right now.”

“I’m sorry, Clay. I didn’t mean to jump you the moment the phone rang, but I’ve been fielding calls right and left about the special promotion you’ve been offering all the locals. Caroline Jennings, who owns a diner, got my name from Megan Adams, the woman you had me talk to. Since the Brighton Valley store is closed, and Caroline wasn’t sure how long that sale was going on, she called me at the Houston office to order two computers. And she’s not the only one. Apparently everyone else in town wanted to take advantage of that special price, too. So she’s been passing out my contact information.”