Читать книгу Doctor, Soldier, Daddy - Caro Carson - Страница 12

Chapter Five

“Is this seat taken?”

The bass voice sounded soothing in the cacophony of the cafeteria lunch rush. It never failed to send a pleasant shiver down Kendry’s back.

“Hi, Dr. MacDowell.”

“It’s Jamie.”

“Hi, Jamie.”

The exchange was becoming a little tradition between them. Kendry didn’t want to make more of it than it was, but it was nice to have their own private routine, wasn’t it?

She smiled at Dr. MacDowell as he sat across from her.

“Soup again?” he asked.

Kendry willed herself to look nonchalant. For whatever reason, Jamie treated her like an equal. Like she had brains. Like her opinions mattered. When she spent all day being ordered to change linens and fetch ice, it was a relief to have a man like him to talk to. She wasn’t going to shatter the illusion of equality with Jamie by confessing that soup was all she could afford. “Tomato’s my favorite. I always get soup when it’s tomato.”

“I’ll have to try it sometime.”

The words were bland, ordinary, but he was looking at her...differently.

“Is something wrong?” she asked. Speaking used up air, naturally, so she breathed in again and caught a hint of his aftershave, that delicious, woodsy scent she’d noticed since the first time he’d sat with her.

She snatched a napkin in the nick of time as she turned away and sneezed. At least she’d cut her bangs so she didn’t have to push them out of her eyes every time.

“You know,” he said, “if I were a doctor, I’d probably give you a diagnosis of allergic rhinitis.”

She rolled her eyes at him, but smiled so he’d know she wasn’t upset. “I don’t think I need to pay for an office visit to find that out.”

“I take it that none of the over-the-counter pills are working for you. Do you need a prescription antihistamine?”

“No.” Why was he asking about her personal health? They usually talked about other patients’ health, not hers.

“I’ll write you one.” He already had a script pad out of his pocket and was writing away.

“Please, don’t bother.” She’d never be able to afford it, but she couldn’t tell him something so embarrassing.

“It’s no problem.” He tore off the paper and handed it to her.

“Thanks.” She reluctantly took the prescription. Why was he looking at her so strangely? Today’s lunch was just...off.

She looked at the paper, so she’d stop trying to analyze his expression. His handwriting was amazingly legible for a doctor, maybe because he wrote in large letters, using up the blank space, filling it with dark ink. No faint scribbles for her to squint at hopelessly. She only had to narrow her eyes a tiny bit to read his writing without her glasses.

This time, when she looked back up at him, he dropped his gaze to his plate. As if she’d caught him in the middle of—something.

“Did you hear something bad today?” she asked.

He looked up at her in surprise, as if she’d guessed right, but he didn’t say anything.

“Myrna’s not back in dialysis, is she? Or David?”

“No.”

She hesitated before a burning need to know made her ask, “It’s not about Sam, is it?” Her heart would break if anything happened to that little guy. Please let it not be something about Sam.

“No, nothing like that.” To her surprise, he reached across the table and squeezed her hand. “Thanks for asking.”

She took her hand off the table, grabbed another napkin, turned her head and blew her nose again. It would be nice to sit through a meal with the man without a runny nose.

Because then he’d notice how beautiful you are?

No, but it would be easier to pretend he did.

“I was wondering,” Jamie said, “did you get your hair cut?”

“My—what?”

“Did you change your hair?”

“I trimmed my bangs a couple days ago. They were getting in my eyes.” She hated this feeling, like she was missing a piece of a puzzle somewhere.

“You look nice.”

Good lord, what was going on? Kendry felt herself turn ten shades of red.

Dr. MacDowell nodded once, like that was the end of that subject. Then he picked up his sandwich. “Have you met our new heart patient, little guy named Eric Raines? He came through the E.R. yesterday with a very unusual cardiac rhythm.”

Thank goodness the conversation was going back on its normal track. They usually discussed any kids who had been admitted to the pediatric ward from the emergency room. Dr. MacDowell didn’t mind teaching her about all kinds of medical conditions, and she found each one more fascinating than the last. She liked to think he was giving her a mini-internship, a taste of what her final year of nursing school would be like.

“His heart sounds were normal,” he said, “but his—”

“Is this seat taken?” asked another deep voice. Without waiting for an answer, a tall man pulled out one of the empty chairs and sat, then leaned his arms on the table. He didn’t wear a white lab coat like Jamie, just slacks and a dress shirt with the sleeves cuffed back, but the stethoscope slung around his neck screamed “doctor.” He looked from Jamie to Kendry, who summoned a neutral, polite smile.

“Have a seat,” Jamie suggested drily.

“Done.”

“Kendry, this is my brother Quinn.”

She’d already guess that much. The two MacDowell brothers were equally handsome and equally single. Before Jamie had arrived at the hospital, his brother had been the most eligible bachelor. Now there were two bachelors, and the hospital rumor mill had twice as much to speculate about. If she hadn’t drawn enough attention to herself by having lunch with Jamie MacDowell, today’s lunch with both brothers was sure to do it.

“It’s nice to meet you,” she said, although she wished everyone in the cafeteria would stop looking over their shoulders at her table.

“Nice to meet you, too.” Quinn turned to Jamie. “What kind of abnormal cardiac rhythm patient did you not refer to me?”

“Pediatric. Not your specialty. Kendry does a lot of work in the pediatric ward, though.” Jamie hesitated, looked at his plate for a moment, then pinned his brother with a firm look. “Kendry is Sam’s favorite caregiver in the playroom.”

Quinn went utterly still for a second. “I see,” he said, turning toward her with much more interest than he’d shown before.

What on earth was going on?

“What do you do here at the hospital, Kendry?” He emphasized her name slightly, like he was making a point of knowing it.

“I’m an orderly.” When Quinn raised one eyebrow in unmistakable surprise, she lifted her chin and asked, “What do you do here, Dr. MacDowell?”

His lips twitched at her attempt to sound as condescending as he did. “Mostly, I’m in the cath lab, trying to open up coronary arteries.”

“Mostly, he’s at his plush private practice,” Jamie corrected him. “He only comes to the hospital when he has to do some real work.”

“How long have you been an orderly, Kendry?”

She tried to mask her surprise at the question. What was it with MacDowell men asking about her employment background?

“I’m getting close to the six-month mark.” And then, because she couldn’t help herself, she added, “Why do you ask?”

“Is this your dream job? Or do you have higher aspirations?”

“Quinn, shut up,” Jamie said.

Apparently, Dr. Quinn MacDowell thought she was after his brother. A gold digger. Seriously, did she look anything like the kind of woman who attracted rich men?

Any men?

Irritated, she felt compelled to defend herself to the older—and really, much less handsome—Dr. MacDowell.

“For now, this is the best job. I’m working to earn enough money to get my CMA certification. If the hospital has an opening, then I’ll have preferred status as an applicant because I’m already an employee here. The openings are few and far between, so I’m positioning myself to have the best shot at it.”

“Your dream job is to be a CMA?” Quinn asked.

“It’s a step in the right direction. I’m going to be a nurse. Once I’m a CMA, I’ll be able to afford classes toward my bachelor’s degree. I can be an RN eight years from now.”

Quinn was silent, studying her for a moment. “That sounds like getting your RN the hard way.”

“Sometimes that’s the only option you have.” Kendry toyed with her soup spoon, regretting the words the instant they left her mouth. No one at West Central knew she’d once tried to take the easy way, a year off to play more than work, the year she’d taken the foolish risk of dropping her car insurance. Until she paid off the cost of that accident, she’d do everything the hard way. The right way.

Quinn glanced at Jamie, who was looking at her oddly, then turned back at her. Kendry was definitely missing something.

“I’ll tell you what,” Quinn said. “When you get that CMA certification, you come see me. I pay more than the hospital does, and I can always use someone with drive and determination. With better pay, you can get that RN degree sooner.”

Whatever Kendry had been expecting, it wasn’t a job offer. She was certain she blew the good impression she’d apparently made by stumbling over her next words. “Oh. Well. Th-that’s very...very—”

“Kendry is interested in pediatrics, not cardiology,” Jamie said firmly.

“Well,” Quinn drawled, looking at his brother, “since you’re in emergency medicine and not pediatrics, you can’t make her a better offer, can you?”

Jamie looked like he wanted to punch his brother. Kendry looked from one to the other, as if she were watching a tennis match. The two Dr. MacDowells were fighting over her? It was insane.

“Maybe I can,” Jamie said. “I’ll have to see.”

Kendry stood up. She nodded at Jamie. “I have to go clock in. Excuse me, Dr. MacDowell.” She nodded at Quinn. “Dr. MacDowell.” She grabbed her tray and headed for the conveyor belt by the exit.

* * *

“What in the hell was that about?” Jamie demanded.

“You can’t be serious,” Quinn said. “She’s got some spunk, no doubt, but she’s as plain as can be.”

“She’s the one who figured out Sam had trouble eating. I still wouldn’t have realized he had a cleft palate if it weren’t for her.”

“Admirable, but not a reason to marry anyone.”

“I didn’t say I was going to marry her, but she’s not plain,” Jamie said. “Considering the kind of relationship I want, it wouldn’t matter if she were, but I’m sick of hearing people insult her appearance.”

“For God’s sake, her glasses are held together by tape.”

“Kendry is fine the way she is. She’s smart. Incredibly smart, and self-taught on medicine like you wouldn’t believe. She’ll fight for a sick kid with a passion. I’ve seen her do it.”

“For what it’s worth, I like her. As an employee. Be rational about this. Hire this Kendry to be the nanny. Hell, I would, after talking to her today.”

“I’m not subjecting Sam to another series of nannies. He went through enough of that while I was on active duty. He’s going to have a real mother.”

Quinn pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes like he was in pain. “When you fall in love and get married, then Sam will have a real mother.”

The idea of hiring Kendry as some kind of temporary mother and then booting her out of the house when another woman came along felt wrong to Jamie on every level.

“What do I tell my son?” Jamie asked. “‘Here’s someone who loves you and cares for you, but say bye-bye now because I’ve found someone I want to sleep with’?”

Quinn opened his eyes and leaned forward to speak with forceful quiet. “You can’t seriously plan on being celibate the rest of your life. You might be in mourning for your baby’s mother right now, but one day you won’t want to be buried anymore. You’ll look around and what will you see?”

Quinn gestured toward the empty chair. “You’re going to be tied to this...this...girl, and it will cost you half of everything you own to get the divorce you need, unless you have an ironclad prenup.”

Jamie stood up, angry—the same kind of anger he’d felt when the nurses had cut Kendry to shreds.

He left the cafeteria through its outdoor dining area, planning to take a shortcut to the emergency room through the hospital’s parklike courtyard. Quinn dogged his every step, still talking.

Jamie tuned him out. He didn’t need legal protection against Kendry. Whomever he married would be providing him protection if the State Department should attempt to remove Sam from his custody. Removing a child from a stable, two-parent home would look bad. Jamie could leverage that in the press, if he had to.

If the State Department investigated. They might, because no child had been brought to the States from Afghanistan by an American soldier. He’d checked. No Afghani child had been adopted by a non-Muslim, period, just as no soldier had been granted permission to marry an Afghani.

If Sam wasn’t his biological child. He might not be, because Amina had told him that life was short, that she lived to seize the day because you never knew when someone you loved might die. The rumor mill said there’d been someone she’d loved before she loved Jamie, someone who’d been killed in action.

If. Always if hanging over his head, a sword that, if it fell, could cut Sam out of his life.

“How do you plan on going from lunches with an orderly who calls you ‘Dr. MacDowell’ to proposing marriage?”

“Hell, Quinn, I don’t have all the answers. I only know that Sam is attached to Kendry. She’s pleasant, she’s intelligent, and she seems to be attached to Sam, too. So, yeah, I’m having lunch with her every day.”

An image flashed in his mind of Kendry in his house. He could see her holding Sam, standing in the kitchen, smiling the way she did when she talked about life with her unconventional parents. Jamie would not be alone. Someone would share his burdens.

“She’d be the one doing me the favor if she married me,” Jamie said, stopping by a sumac tree.

Quinn was silent.

The leaves of the sumac were already starting to turn orange for fall. Less than two weeks were left before he reported to his new reserve unit for the first weekend drill. Sam was scheduled for his palate repair after that. Once that was healed, the hole in the wall of his heart would be repaired. Now that Sam was nearing his first birthday, the surgeons were willing to fix the things he’d been too frail to address earlier in his life.

Jamie rubbed his jaw, too tired to fight, too weary to explain.