Coming Home Read Free Page A

column near the elevator, Wyatt watched her, understanding the pain and stress she felt, but certainly not in any position to comfort her.
    "If you're so crazy about your father, why'd you refuse to ever come visit him?" Wyatt finally asked when she paused to take a drink from the water fountain.
    Nicole straightened immediately, wiping some cold water off her cheek with the back of her hand. She glared at him. "Aside from the fact that you of all people should know the answer to that question, it's really none of your business."
    He didn't reply, because she was right on the one hand—it was none of his business. But as for the other? Honestly, he had no idea. He couldn’t imagine that their teenage fling, which obviously hadn’t meant much to her, had been enough to keep her from visiting a much-loved parent. But what the hell did he know about kids and parents? He’d certainly never experienced much of anything like love from his own.
    Nicole knew she was stalking around the waiting room like a shark circling chum, which was pretty funny since Wyatt had been the great white who’d taken a huge bite out of her heart. Part of her wished he’d leave. Another part wanted someone else who cared about her father—as she knew Wyatt did—to be here with her.
    Finally, after what seemed like forever, the nurse told her she could go in. Taking a deep breath to calm herself, she slowly made her way through the unit to her father's bed. Nicole bit her lip uncertainly. Machinery surrounded him, beeping and glowing, with numbers and lines that made her think of hospital shows on television. She felt sick thinking of what that line on the heart monitor meant, wondering how she'd handle it if the slow, weak little jerks on the screen suddenly went flat.
    "Dad?" she said quietly as she moved to his bedside.
    Her father's eyes were closed. His face looked thin and pale, much older than his fifty-nine years. Beneath the bed covers his strong body appeared smaller, but she told herself it was her imagination.
    Finally, he stirred. "Nicky, baby?"
    "Yes, Dad, it's me," she said, forcing a weak smile to her face as he opened his eyes and stared up at her.
    "Such a fuss," he whispered. "Didn't mean for you to be dragged down here."
    She shook her head, and bent to gently kiss his forehead. "There's nowhere else I'd rather be right now. And I’ll stay here just as long as it takes to make sure you are healthy and home where you belong."
    Even if staying here meant doing something she’d avoided for more many years: dealing with Wyatt Clayton.
     

CHAPTER TWO
    While Nicole visited her father, Wyatt waited outside the CICU. The pretty nurse at the desk tried to engage him in conversation a few times. He barely responded, busy wondering how Nicole was holding up next to her father's sickbed.
    "Are you a family member?" the nurse asked with a smile.
    "No. Just a friend of the Ross's. From way back."
    Way, way back.
    As far back as he could remember Wyatt had known Doc Ross. It seemed the man had been at the Clayton ranch for every major event the family had ever experienced, from the birth of Charlemaine, who had gone on to win the Derby, to the death of Prince Pride, who could have one day been a champion.
    And so many times Nicole had been right there with him.
    He hadn't noticed her much until that summer...that last summer when she'd been seventeen, newly graduated from high school and an utter beauty. Beautiful enough to capture his cousin Brady's eye.
    Wyatt had been jealous, at first, until he recognized the looks Nicole Ross was giving him when she thought no one noticed. Though she went out with his golden-haired, perfect, legitimate cousin Brady, she wanted to be with Wyatt. He knew it. She knew he knew it. And when Brady dumped her, claiming she was a little too juvenile for his tastes, meaning, Wyatt knew, that she wouldn't put out, Wyatt made his move.
    He still remembered the look on her face when he'd found her sitting on the