Have Gown, Need Groom Read Online Free Page B

fallen into footsteps already molded by other Hartwells. Twenty years of trying to overcome her roots down the drain because of a thirty-second decision.
    She closed her eyes and allowed the regret to flow, along with the heartache she assumed would follow from losing Seth. Even if she changed her mind and crawled back on her hands and knees groveling, his family would probably never forgive her. Oddly, heartache for Seth never came—only sadness for embarrassing him. And the ball of fear that had lived within her since she was a little girl swelled inside her again. She’d inherited her mother’s blond hair and fair skin. Maybe she was like her mother in other ways, too.
    Disgusted with herself, she sniffled and dried her cheeks with the hem of her jacket, reasoning the only way to avoid the press was to throw herself into work. She peeked through the door again, grateful the reporters had disappeared.
    A surgical scrub hat pulled over her hair for disguise, she fielded her way to the nurses’ station. Tiffany, the big lovable nurse who ran the floor, paused near the curtained partitions and sent her a gap-toothed smile.
    “What are you doing here, Dr. Hartwell? I thought you were getting married today.”
    “I canceled the wedding,” she said, striving for a confident voice.
    Tiffany’s chubby face reddened in surprise.
    “You mean you’re not marrying Dr. Broadhurst?” Susie, one of the physicians’ assistants, hesitated over a tray of medicine. “But he came by this morning on the way to the church.”
    “I know,” Hannah said. “It didn’t work out.” She shrugged and hurried over to Tiffany, unable to think of an explanation that sounded rational. “I heard about the car crash and thought you might need some help. How many victims?”
    “Six.” Tiffany narrowed her eyes. “But if you’re upset, you don’t have to stay, we’ll manage. We’ve already marked you off the calendar for the next week.”
    “I’m fine.” Hannah shifted uncomfortably. “I’d really like to work.”
    Tiffany nodded, tactfully choosing not to press the issue. “All right. Doctors Bentley and Douglas are with the car victims.”
    Hannah tried to steady her voice. “What else do we have?”
    “A gunshot wound in three. Man was shot in the posterior. I paged Dr. Hunter but he’s in surgery with a ruptured spleen.”
    “Oh, yes, I heard about the shooting on the radio, too.” Hannah reached for his chart. “What are his vitals?”
    “Blood pressure’s a little high. EMTs applied a pressure bandage, started a drip. His name’s Jake Tippins.” Tiffany quickly recited his other vital signs. “I suppose you’re aware the shooting occurred at your daddy’s car lot.”
    Hannah’s gaze swung up in shock. “No…what happened?”
    “Someone tried to steal a car. Our patient caught him.” Tiffany gestured toward the outside waiting area, wiping a pudgy hand across her forehead. “The reporters are calling him a hero. I had to chase ’em away from the ER.”
    Hannah silently groaned, felling empathy for the man. The six o’clock news tonight would be full of Hartwell happenings. “Has his family been notified?”
    “Man claims he has no family. Didn’t want us to call anyone.”
    Once again sympathy for the man filled her. “Okay. I’ll take care of him.”
    Tiffany nodded, checking the other charts. “I’ll assist you in a minute.”
    Hannah headed to the exam room, then slipped inside. The man lay face down, his head propped on his left hand, his breathing steady as if he’d fallen asleep. Or maybe he was unconscious. She scanned his chart and noted that his vitals were still stable. He’d lost some blood, so he’d probably given in to fatigue. She studied his back, her gaze traveling the length of his long body to where his toes hung off the end of the gurney. He was one of the biggest men she’d ever seen. Thick black hair covered his head, and his wide shoulders and firm, muscular arms attested