In the meantime, he forced himself to sit in a chair near the emergency-room doors through which they’d wheeled Sloane earlier. Forced himself, through gritted teeth, to wait for Eric instead of barging into the ER and demanding answers and the right to see Sloane. Something Chase couldn’t do until Eric arrived and helped him get past hospital security and restrictions.
Suddenly the double doors swung wide and a woman doctor strolled through. Chase recognized her as the one who’d taken charge of Sloane from the minute the ambulance drivers unloaded her stretcher.
He jumped up from his seat. “How is she?”
The doctor eyed him, a combination of wariness and compassion in her professional gaze. “Stable,” she said, as if she weren’t sure whether to trust him with the information.
“She’s groggy, but she wants to see her father.”
Relief swelled inside his chest. Sloane was awake enough to talk. Thank God.
“Do you know if her father’s here?” the doctor asked.
Chase tried to speak, but the lump in his throat made it difficult. “I haven’t seen him.”
After sitting by Sloane’s side in the ambulance and seeing her safely to the hospital, Samson had disappeared.
Damn the man.
Chase glanced around once more, but the eccentric was nowhere to be found.
“Can I see her?” Chase asked, unable to disguise the hope in his voice.
The businesslike brunette shook her head. “Once she’s settled in a room, if she wants to see you, then we can arrange it.” The doctor shoved her hands into her white jacket pockets. “In the meantime, I promise she’s in good hands.”
The doctor placed a hand on his shoulder. The gesture must be practiced in Family Care 101, Chase thought, frustrated.
“Well, if Ms. Carlisle’s father shows up, be sure to tell him his daughter is asking for him.”
Before Chase could reply, an imposing man in a suit and tie—none other than Senator Michael Carlisle—strode up to the doctor. “Did you say Sloane’s looking for her father?”
The young woman nodded. “You’re—”
“Senator Michael Carlisle,” he said with the air of authority that had helped him rise quickly in the political world. “I want to see my daughter now.”
Madeline stood by her husband’s side, tears in her eyes. She looked neither left nor right, and she didn’t notice Chase standing right next to her. Understandable, considering how upset she was. And since Chase had been instructed to watch out for Sloane and to keep her safe, he would be the last person Madeline would want to see right now.
Regardless, Chase wanted to talk with the senator—not just about Sloane, but about his campaign managers and this whole situation. Including who was the best reporter to cover the story. The only reporter capable of protecting both Sloane and the senator’s interests at the same time. Chase, however, knew better than to interrupt the man before he’d checked on his daughter.
Instead, he watched with frustrated impotence as the senator led Madeline Carlisle, his hand on her back, through the double doors to see their daughter. She had the family who’d raised and loved her here now. They’d make sure she got the best care possible.
Something Chase hadn’t been able to do.
He kicked the old linoleum floor with his foot. Frustration filled him, but so did resolve.
Sloane was alive and he had his second chance. He couldn’t wait to tell her. He couldn’t wait to begin his future.
As long as Sloane didn’t move her body, she didn’t feel too much pain. The drugs administered by the doctors were starting to do their job, she thought, leaning her head against the pillow. She still hadn’t gotten past the shock of what happened, and once the pain had begun to subside, she’d asked first about Samson. The news was good, but his whereabouts weren’t. He hadn’t been shot or injured, but after being assured Sloane was okay, he’d departed for parts unknown.
No surprise there, Sloane thought. She wouldn’t be getting any warm, fuzzy parental moments from him. Although, for a brief moment back at the tree house, she thought she was close to reaching past his hard outer shell. Something she wouldn’t be able to attempt again unless she was released from the hospital.
A knock on the door startled her and she jumped, immediately regretting the impulsive motion when pain surged through her bandaged shoulder. She reached to support the injury with her good hand, resting her palm against the thick bandages.
Before she could respond, the door opened wide and Madeline and Michael strode through. Sloane had already seen them in the emergency room, but this was the first time they’d had a moment alone without doctors and nurses hovering over Sloane. She smiled, motioning with her good hand. “Come on in.”
Madeline came in first and sat on the bed, while Michael chose a chair on the other side.
“I am so relieved you’re okay. So are your sisters. They send their love and begged to come, but I wanted them in one place and safe until we knew you were.” Madeline grabbed her hand and held on tight. Her bright eyes shimmered with unshed tears.
“Sweetie, when I said you could come to Yorkshire Falls, I had no idea there was actual danger involved.”
“That’s because I didn’t tell you. I didn’t want to worry you unnecessarily.” Sloane sighed.
She vividly remembered the day she’d overheard her father’s men discussing her parentage, yet it seemed so long ago, considering all that had happened since. Especially the emotional effort she’d invested in both Samson and Chase. In that respect, Sloane felt old beyond her twenty-eight years.
Madeline wagged a finger at Sloane. “What you really mean is that you didn’t want me to forbid you from coming to meet your real father. Not that I could do that anyway, since you’re an adult.”
“No, but you could have sent me here with a bodyguard. And that wouldn’t have gone over well with the nosy good people of Yorkshire Falls.” Sloane laughed, but sobered quickly as she recalled that Madeline had sent her with a bodyguard. A man named Chase Chandler, and though he’d done his best to protect her body, he’d stolen her heart in the process.
Shoring up her defenses wasn’t easy, but Sloane managed. She couldn’t allow Michael or Madeline to know she was in more emotional pain than this gunshot wound could ever inflict, and the oldest Chandler brother was the cause.
Apparently, her father had been informed of the situation with his aides by a Yorkshire Falls police officer who’d met him at the airport at the request of Rick Chandler. Sloane knew Michael was probably reeling from the news, even if he refused to show her his distress.