“Keating,” he barked into the receiver for the latest interruption.
An unfamiliar female voice answered. “Mr. Garrett Keating? Caroline Keating-Spence’s brother?”
Immediate worry clawed his pulse. “Yes. What’s this about?”
“Your sister asked us to call you. This is Mrs. Henry, the senior day nurse in ICU at Eastwick-”
“Oh my God. Is she all right?”
“We believe she will be, in time. But the circumstances are a little touchy. Your parents have been here, but they seem to upset your sister more than help. Because Mrs. Keating-Spence is in such a fragile state of mind, when she asked for you-”
“I’ll be there as fast as I can make arrangements. Which will be immediately. But what exactly is wrong?”
“I wouldn’t normally say over the phone if your sister hadn’t asked me to convey at least part of the situation. Her husband is out of the country. Her parents are possibly too upset to make the situation easier. So-”
“Just tell me.”
“She took in an extensive quantity of mixed alcohol and medication.” A short silence. “Her parents-your parents-are quite determined that your sister did this accidentally. No one on the medical staff has any doubt that your sister had to know exactly what she was doing.” Another short silence. “I believe it best to be blunt. When she first came in, no one was sure we could bring her back. That medical crisis is over now, but-”
“I’ll be there,” Garrett said swiftly and disconnected.
Ed, his driver, met his eyes in the rearview mirror. “Sounds like there’s a problem?”
“Yes. I have to leave town. Immediately. I’ll give you a list of things I’d appreciate your handling at the apartment…”
Garrett ran nonstop for the next few hours, fear and guilt shadowing his heart. He handled millions of dollars every day, juggled a pressure-cooker workload, so how had he failed so badly at finding a few minutes for his sister?
On the long, silent drive to Eastwick, he couldn’t stop thinking about Caro. He adored his sister. They’d always been thick as thieves, allied against parents who’d never had time or interest in raising children. When Caroline married, naturally Garrett had retreated. But a year ago, when he heard she was having trouble with Griff, he’d stepped back in, prepared to shoot the son of a bitch-
All his life, though, he’d been better at work than relationships.
Business had been good, except that he’d always had a hard time putting a lid on his workaholic tendencies. Make one million, naturally he wanted to make five, then ten. He was generally connected to a computer or a phone twenty hours out of twenty-four. So maybe he had no love life or personal life, but he was thriving.
He was sure he’d been thriving.
But then Caroline had called four days ago and he just hadn’t found the time to call her back. She’d called again yesterday morning. He’d been planning to call her tonight. Really. For sure.
Only, damn it, maybe he’d have forgotten that the way he forgot everything else lately. Business had consumed him tighter than a tornado wind.
His sister, who’d always counted on him-who
By the time he reached the outskirts of Eastwick, night had fallen, his stomach was churning and his heart feeling sharp-sick. It wasn’t just guilt; it was caring. So many people believed he was cold-blooded-and maybe he was; that was what made him good in business. But he wasn’t cold about his sister. He fiercely loved her.
He’d just failed her this time. And he couldn’t, wouldn’t, forgive himself.
At the hospital he locked the car and jogged for the door, still wearing the navy suit he’d worn all day, not having eaten in God knows how long. He didn’t care. He shot through the doors, jabbed the elevator button for three, ran.
He hadn’t been home-much less near Eastwick General Hospital-in a blue moon and then some. But the structure hadn’t noticeably changed since he was a kid. He’d have known his way around even if his family hadn’t donated a wing or two over the years. Critical care was the isolated unit off the third floor in the back-the location chosen because it had a helipad on the roof.
The CC wing was quiet. The sound of machines and monitors made more noise than the patients. Lights dimmed after nine. He didn’t immediately see a nurse or doctor, so simply hiked past each glass-doored cubicle, looking for his sister. The unit held only ten beds, usually more than needed even in emergency circumstances. Six beds were filled-not one of them with his sister.
Finally he found a doctor emerging from the last door. “I’m Garrett Keating. I was told my sister, Caroline Keating-Spence-”
“Yes, Mr. Keating. She was here until late this afternoon. We just moved her a couple hours ago to a private room.”
“So she’s better.” For that instant, it was all he wanted to hear.
“You’ll need to speak with her doctor, but the nurse will tell you her room-”
More rigmarole. More running. He took the stairs rather than waiting for the elevator-he’d never been good at waiting, and there wasn’t a chance he could pretend to be patient tonight. Room 201. That’s where they told him to go. A private room with a twenty-four-hour monitor. Garrett suspected the monitor meant that either his sister wasn’t out of the woods yet or that they feared she’d try suicide again.
Even the nurse hadn’t specifically used the word
Some people would never buy the farm, but Caroline was always someone who couldn’t quite close the gate to depression.
He scraped a hand through his hair and suddenly halted outside 201. He felt as if he’d been running hell-bent for leather for hours, which was fine but not how he wanted his sister to see him. He forced himself to stand still for a few minutes, pull it all together, concentrate on pulling off an image of calm strength.
A nurse buzzed past him. Then two aides. He took a step toward the door, when suddenly a woman walked out of Caroline’s room. She almost ran straight into him-would have if he hadn’t instinctively reached out to steady her.
Her head shot up. A mane of silky dark hair fell to shoulder length, framing a cameo face-elegant bones, huge eyes bluer than violet, a pale mouth with the lipstick worn off.
Her striking looks would have ransomed his attention even if he didn’t know her…but he did.
Her name didn’t pop into his head in that second, probably because, hell, his mind was gone after these past stress-packed hours. Yet stress or no stress, he immediately remembered her eyes. He remembered kissing her. He remembered dancing in the grass at midnight, remembered laughing…the way he never seemed to laugh with other people, not then or now. But she was different. She’d made him laugh. Made him fall harder in love than a crash.
Of course, that was aeons ago.
A lifetime and more.
“Garrett,” she said gently. “I’m so glad you’re here.”
“Emma.” He’d known her name all along. It was just that the memories had rushed into his head faster than the prosaic facts. “You’ve been with my sister?”
“Yes. It’s past visiting hours, but…” She hesitated. “I think no one wants to leave her alone. Your parents were here until about a half hour ago. In fact, I just stayed in the hall-but I heard her talking, realized she was upset. So when I saw them leave, I went in. I didn’t know what else to do. Except try to be there for her. She’s fallen asleep now.” Again she hesitated. A wisp of a smile softened her face. “It’s good to see you.”
“Not under these circumstances.”
“No. In fact, I remember your saying you’d never come back to Eastwick if you could help it.”
He remembered that suddenly, all too well. It was why he’d broken it off with her all those years ago-because he’d rather give up anything, everything, than live in this damn town. But that was how he’d felt at twenty-one, an age when everything was an ultimatum. An age when you assumed you didn’t need anyone ever. An age when it
