It had made him sad that she’d make such a declaration. Her bastard of a husband had hurt her instead of cherishing her and protecting her. He couldn’t blame her for feeling that way. Fear had shone in her eyes when she’d mentioned that her husband had been notified of the accident. Clay had stopped in at the nurse’s station and they’d told him, when he asked, that Mr. King wouldn’t be allowed to see her without her express permission and that they planned to move her to the room at the rear end of the wing, behind their station. Law enforcement had already been notified as well.
He sipped a mug of coffee as he gazed out the front picture window in his living room. Judging by the clock, he had at least another two hours before the sun rose, but he felt on full alert. With sleep no longer an option, he went into the studio at the rear of his house and flipped on the light.
He pulled the muslin covering off the clay piece he’d been working with the night before. In their spare time, most bachelors watched television, worked out at the gym, or hung out with their buddies. He did plenty of that, but he preferred to work with his hands in wet clay. As always he was surprised when the timer he’d set earlier went off after two hours had passed.
He met Beck O’Malley at the shop at seven o’clock and handed over the keys to Lily’s car, hoping she wouldn’t be upset with him for being presumptuous about having the work done. She would need transportation, and he didn’t mind helping to make that happen. He also had another plan in the works to help her but braced himself, knowing that Tabitha wasn’t going to be a happy camper once she found out.
A short time later, Clay made the short trip to Emma Guthrie’s office for a scheduled appointment. His allergies had been ferocious lately, and he’d recently taken her up on her offer to test him so she could treat him more effectively. Now he was there to find out the results.
Emma knocked and stepped into the exam room. Judging by the new hairstyle, the high heels, and decidedly un-dowdy blouse and skirt she wore, Emma had gotten a new lease on life. Clay hoped it had to do with the two men he’d seen her with the weekend before. Grace Warner had tried to set him up with Emma, but it hadn’t panned out because she never dated patients.
“Well, Clay, I have bad news.” She looked genuinely sorry when she said it.
“It was just allergy testing, Doc. How bad can it be?”
“It’s time to find your cat a new home,” she said as she flipped through her chart to the test results.
“Emma, I don’t own a cat.” Oh, crap.
“Really?” Emma frowned and looked more closely at the test results and then showed him. “You tested positive for cat hair and cat dander. Your reaction was pretty severe. Any idea how—Oh! You’re allergic to your cat-loving employee.”
Clay nodded. “Yeah. Tabitha Lester.”
Emma giggle-snorted and said, “Clay, you know I don’t mean to laugh at your dilemma, but…” She covered another snicker. “Good luck with that.”
Armed with a prescription for a different allergy medication, Clay left her office a few minutes later, grumbling about friends finding humor in the trials of others.
The action took a decidedly unfunny turn when he stepped out of the elevator onto the surgical floor at the hospital. He’d hoped that he’d be there to protect Lily if her ex-husband happened to show up at the hospital, and it looked as though he’d gotten his wish.
The surgical floor was a rectangular outer ring of patient rooms with the elevator at one end, and small offices and housekeeping in the center, with the nurse’s station positioned opposite of the elevator door. Hank Stinson and another deputy were trying to talk sense to a large, red-faced, very irate-looking man, while two nurses stood between them and the hallway that led to Lily’s room. Flowers in hand, Clay walked past the men and nodded to the two nurses as they let him by. The man looked ready to charge down the hall, barging into rooms until he found who he was looking for.
“How come that asshole gets to just walk right through?”
“He has permission to visit the patient he’s here to see.”
Clay wanted to respond but kept walking as though he hadn’t heard a word. The man quieted down, and Clay turned to look back at the asshole to find him watching him closely with dark, piercing eyes. Evidently ignoring the asshole only drew his attention. “That’s her room, isn’t it? He’s goin’ in my wife’s room, ain’t he?” Hank and the deputy blocked his path as he took two steps toward Clay.
Holy shit. No wonder she’s terrified of him.