Tony called the Palo Alto police and the emergency room at the hospital. By the time his company plane left Iowa, he was no closer to learning anything. Repeatedly, he was informed that he had no legal right to Ms. Nichols’ private information. Tony wanted to scream, “Fine! But what about my child—I have the right to know if my child is all right.” The only thing stopping him, keeping him from proclaiming his impending parenthood, was the fear of their answer. How badly had this man hurt her? Would she survive? Had their baby?
When he landed, Brent sent him the contact information on a new investigator, Clay Winters, ex-secret service. Tony immediately contacted him and explained the situation. He emphasized that regardless of his legal rights, he wanted answers and he wanted Claire protected. Clay went to work, while Tony found a small visitor’s lounge a floor away from Claire’s room and set up a home base.
One of Claire’s attending nurses agreed to enlighten Tony when Claire regained consciousness. Tony asked about Claire’s condition, her prognosis—anything! The nurse wouldn’t give any more answers. Apparently, a Do Not Disclose order had been put into place. No information regarding Claire Nichols was to be leaked by staff or the hospital without a hefty fine and promised legal action. The nurse agreed to accept Tony’s money, but refused to risk her job or the hospital’s reputation with anything further.
Answers slowly trickled in regarding the incident. When Tony read that the assailant’s name was Patrick Chester, all of the air left his lungs. He knew the man was familiar; however, it’d been over twenty-five years since he’d last seen him. According to the information, Chester had planned to kidnap Claire and ransom her to Tony. It didn’t make sense. How did Chester know about his connection to Claire? How did he know that the same man who’d been paying him for all of these years was Anthony Rawlings?
As hour after hour passed, Tony’s impotence wore on him. He was so close, yet so far. He didn’t want to think about Claire’s accident or compare the circumstances; however, the similarities screamed for acknowledgement. Almost three years earlier, she’d been in a similar situation and so had he. Tony remembered Dr. Leonard asking him to leave the room. His exact words echoed in his mind: Mr. Rawlings, she is not related to you. We must allow her some privacy. Those words continued to haunt him. Once again, he wasn’t related —yes, that was his doing, and he regretted it more than anything in his life, but it was still the truth.
The question that tumbled through his mind, resurfacing at the most inopportune times was did she lose the baby? When she told him that she was pregnant, Tony didn’t know what to say or do. When he took her to the meadow and explained, it wasn’t truly to say he wanted a child, only that he was unsure—Claire had used the word scared. Truthfully, in the meadow he was unsure; now, he was frightened. Tony didn’t only fear the loss of the child; he told himself repeatedly they would survive as a couple, and if Claire wanted children—fine, they’d try again. What he feared, as hours turned to another day, were his memories of after Claire’s accident and before her breakdown on the front porch. Those weeks preoccupied his thoughts.
As soon as Tony returned from work, he met Catherine in his office for an update on Claire’s condition. Unfortunately, after over two weeks of consciousness, her activities were virtually the same from day to day. She’d eaten two meals, although Catherine mentioned that she’d eaten very little of those two meals. After bathing and dressing, she napped. After lunch and reading, she napped. Catherine assured him that she was now awake and waiting for his arrival.
Tony approached the door to her suite with a combination of anticipation and dread. If only he’d find her talking and flitting around the suite as she used to; instead, he feared he’d find what he’d found the day before, and the one before that. Slowly, Tony opened the door and spotted Claire on the sofa. She was reading, or pretending to read. Silently, he watched as her eyes drifted toward the fireplace and stared. The reflection of the flames was the only spark of life he’d witnessed since she woke.
Securing a smile, he opened the door further and announced his presence. “Good evening, Claire,” he said, as lightheartedly as he could manage.
When she turned, her dead gaze met his and her lips obediently move upward. “Good evening, Tony. Is it that late already?”
Kissing her cheek, he assessed the woman before him. She was dressed impeccably with her hair and makeup flawless. “You look lovely tonight. Obviously, you knew it was time for dinner.”
Lifting the blanket that covered her legs, Claire gazed at her attire. With no emotion, she replied, “Oh, yes, that’s right. Now, I remember.”
Offering his hand, he asked, “Won’t you join me? You’re too beautiful to keep in this suite. Besides, you must be tired of these four walls. Let’s go to the dining room.”
The stillness of the flat green gave way to an instant of panic before settling again into nothingness. “Tony, I’d rather stay here, if that’s all right with you. The dining room is so far away.”
He didn’t argue that night or even the next few. It wasn’t until almost November before he convinced her to leave the suite. Then, slowly, he made more progress. First, it was the dining room, then the sunporch, eventually they made it outside. Even the fresh air didn’t bring back the sparkling emerald he craved. Tony tried gifts. It didn’t seem to matter if it was an inexpensive scarf, a newly released book that she’d been anticipating, or jewels valued in the thousands of dollars—though her lips smiled, her eyes remained dead.
That was why he’d talked to Courtney about a visit with her and Brent. Tony had hoped that taking her anywhere would help. He never expected that it would be the practice drive that would bring her back to life.
What if when Claire woke and if their baby was gone—what if her eyes were once again dead? With each hour, Tony promised he’d move heaven and earth to assure the spark of life in her eyes. If it meant he had to walk the gauntlet of her family and friends, he’d do it. Whatever she wanted, he would do.
His phone rang. “Anthony Rawlings,” he answered.
“Sir, she’s awake.” Tony’s heart leapt. “The doctor is with her now.” The line went dead. Seconds later a text came through from Clay:
“THE DOCTOR LEFT MS. NICHOLS’ ROOM. SHE IS AWAKE. HER FAMILY AND FRIENDS ARE HERE.”
Tony didn’t know if they would all be in her room or not—it didn’t matter, he was going in. As he approached he saw his ex-in-laws by her door. John was the first to see him. The combination of hatred and shock in John’s gaze fueled Tony’s determined steps. Tony wasn’t stopping until he was in Claire’s room. He couldn’t. He had to see her—see her eyes—and know that she was all right. He needed to be near her, to take her hand and promise more children.
“You are not welcome here,” John proclaimed, as he stepped in front of the door. “I can’t believe you would have the nerve to show your face after all you’ve done.”
Tony saw Clay sitting inconspicuously in a nearby waiting area and shook his head in his direction. He would handle this on his own. Ignoring the daggered stares of his ex-sister-in-law, Tony stopped within a few feet of John. “I want to see her.”