Читать книгу Lone Star Baby - Cathy Thacker Gillen - Страница 7
ОглавлениеThe usual idealism shining in her pretty brown eyes, Violet turned to Gavin, frowned and said, “Obviously, we can’t adopt baby Ava together.” She walked back outside and he followed her. “We barely know each other.”
Barely?
While it was true they hadn’t hung out together as kids and had run in different social circles—it was certainly different now that they were both physicians.
Irked to find her so quick to discount the time they had spent together, Gavin stepped in once again to lend a hand unpacking the trailer. “We’ve worked together for the past five years while we completed our residencies and fellowship training.”
“You know what I mean. Yes, I know your preferred ways of dealing with certain medical situations, just as you surely know mine. But when it comes to the intricate personal details of your life, I don’t know you any better than I know the rest of the staff at the hospital.” Violet plucked a lamp base out of the pile of belongings, rooting around until she found the shade. “And you don’t really know me at all, either.”
Gavin’s jaw tightened. Oh, he knew her, all right. Maybe better than she thought.
For instance, he knew her preferred coffee was a skinny vanilla latte. And that she loved enchiladas above all else—to the point she’d sampled all twenty-five types from the local Tex-Mex restaurant.
He tore his gaze from the barest hint of cleavage in the vee of her T-shirt and concentrated instead on the dismayed blush of color sweeping her delicate cheeks.
“And whose fault is that?” he inquired huskily.
“Mine, obviously,” she said with a temperamental lift of her finely arched brow, “since I prefer to keep a firewall between my professional and private lives.”
More like a nuclear shield, he thought grimly.
Having tried to pierce it once or twice himself, he’d given up and concentrated on his own work, moving on to occasionally date other women. Except for his one disastrous engagement, none of those relationships had ever amounted to anything more than a short-lived flirtation. Mostly because none of the other women had even begun to measure up to the sexy, irrepressible Violet McCabe.
He gazed into her eyes, chiding, “What private life?”
She looked down her nose at him, lamp and shade still in hand, as he stacked moving boxes onto the wheeled dolly. “You are too funny, Monroe.” She stepped back reluctantly to let him push the dolly into the barn for her.
Realizing how ridiculous it was to still be lusting after her when she was still not over losing Sterling, Gavin gestured to the place she’d been putting all the other boxes.
She nodded her approval and he set them down.
“Besides,” she taunted, watching as he straightened to his full six feet three inches, “it’s not as if you have a viable personal life, either.”
Unable to resist teasing her, he raked his eyes up and down her body. “Sure about that?”
She flushed. Hinting, to his pleasure, that she might be a little more interested in him, too, than she’d previously let on.
Violet grabbed the dolly and headed back out to the truck, her hips swaying provocatively beneath her shorts. “Let’s just say I find it highly unlikely,” she shot back. “Unless you’ve managed to get by on zero sleep the past four years—”
So she did know exactly how long it had been since his engagement to Penelope had ended.
“—and, the occasional cursory date aside, skirt around without detection. Which would be an even larger feat, given what an eligible bachelor you are.”
Clasping a palm to his chest, as if he had just taken an arrow to the heart, he drawled, “Women find me eligible?”
She mimed exasperation at his clowning around. “Please,” she said in an unamused voice that completely belied the twinkle in her eyes. She paused to put the two parts of the lamp together. “Like they don’t come into the ER and hit on you every day.”
They did. But a lot of single guys on the EMT, fire and sheriff’s squads came in just to flirt with her, too.
“Besides...” Bending, and giving him a very nice view of her luscious derriere, she rummaged through another box marked Fragile and emerged with a cardboard sleeve of lightbulbs. With an indignant sniff, she finished putting together the lamp. “Between your extended family and mine, and the nonstop demands of our residencies and fellowships, neither of us has had time to pursue anything remotely meaningful on our own.”
Which was, Gavin thought, yet another problem that had to be addressed.
Their residencies were over now.
Yes, they were still doctors with crazy work schedules, but they also deserved more of a personal life. He intended to find one.
He hoped she would, too.
“And,” she continued, brushing a hand through her sexy, side-swept bangs, “I don’t know if that will ever change.”
The unmistakable ache in her tone caught him unaware.
He studied her, for the first time realizing she might also be a little lonely, deep down. As well as privately longing for more, too. Despite her avowals to the contrary.
“So you’re thinking that because we both have so little spare time and energy on our hands, that we should just say no to Tammy’s request and hand the baby over to Dallas social services?”
“No.” Violet looked at him long and hard. “I’m saying we should say yes to temporary guardianship. Bring Ava here, make sure she gets absolutely everything she needs medically and then—once we’re sure she is okay—have Mitzy help us find her a loving family who will welcome us as godparents and allow us to watch over her as she grows up.”
Gavin heaved a sigh of relief, glad to find her being as pragmatic, compassionate and levelheaded as the situation demanded. Having been orphaned himself, albeit when he was about to enter medical school, he couldn’t live with himself if he turned his back on another parentless child.
It was bad enough the way he had let his own family down, by not being as available as he should have been in that difficult time.
He’d tried to make up for it since—by returning to Laramie for his residency and taking a permanent job there.
But if he had it to do all over again, he would have done what was right for everyone—not just him.
“That’s what I think we should do, too,” he said firmly.
“Then it’s decided?” Violet asked.
Gavin nodded. The idea of raising a child with such a sweet and sexy woman had been a nice, brief fantasy—but that was all it was; a tantalizing idea. One he was far too practical to waste any time pondering.
“I’ll call Mitzy and tell her that we’ve talked and decided what we want to do.”
* * *
“WHO KNOWS? THIS might be just the change you’ve been looking for,” Lacey McCabe told Violet two days later.
Violet looked at her mother. An accomplished physician and neonatologist, and head of the pediatrics department at LCH, she had come down to the ambulance bay to await the arrival of baby Ava.
Violet refused to encourage her mother’s hope that all six of her daughters would end up with children of their own, in marriages just as solid and strong as hers. “It’s just a temporary guardianship, Mom.”
“I know you think that now, but babies have a way of latching on to your heart.”
“Not in this case,” Violet insisted.
She wasn’t ready for motherhood.
She certainly wasn’t the best choice, long-term, for an orphaned newborn.
But with the help of her family, and Gavin’s, she could do the right thing, in the short run. That, she knew.
“Just don’t confuse the love you and Gavin will no doubt feel for this child for anything else,” her mother continued.
Violet blinked. “Like what?”
Lacey shrugged. “Babies in jeopardy have a way of bringing people together in other ways, too.” She paused, concern in her eyes. “Ways that don’t last.”
Was her mother intimating that she and Gavin would become closer, too, as a consequence? “You don’t need to worry about that,” Violet huffed, folding her arms across her chest. “Gavin and I know how to work together for the good of a patient—or in this case, a ward—without crossing any boundaries.”
Lacey nodded, her maternal gaze cautious. “In any case,” she went on, with an approving hug, “I want you to know your father and I are proud of the way you and Gavin are stepping up to take on this unexpected responsibility.”
Gavin joined them. He’d been on the midnight-to-noon ER shift. Clad in surgical scrubs with a shadow of beard on his face, he looked as ruggedly handsome as always. He smiled at Violet and her mom. “Jackson said the same to me a little while ago,” he confirmed.
Lacey’s dad was not just LCH’s chief of staff, he was also famously protective of all six of his daughters. He never hesitated to offer encouragement or to step in with a word of caution if he thought one of them was headed down the wrong path.
“In fact, I think everyone at the hospital is interested in doing what they can for the little one.” Gavin hovered closer. “How much longer until they get here?”
Violet dutifully consulted her watch. “Should be any minute now. In fact, Mitzy should be here shortly, too.”
Right on cue, the social worker appeared. She had a clipboard full of papers to be signed.
The next few minutes were spent filling out the appropriate paperwork. By the time they’d finished, the ambulance pulled up beneath the portico. The doors opened and the incubator containing baby Ava was brought out. They caught only a distant glimpse of the newborn as she was whisked through a series of corridors that led straight to the Special Care Nursery. “Showtime,” Gavin said as they fell into step behind the EMTs.
Was he as nervous about all this as she suddenly was? There was no way to tell. But she was glad he was here with her every step of the way.
Together, Gavin and Violet waited in the corridor outside the unit. Finally, Lacey McCabe came out. Clad in a sterile yellow gown thrown over her clothing, she had a stethoscope around her neck and a smile on her face. “Ava’s doing great. You can go in and see her now.”
The two of them slipped on yellow gowns and Violet took a bolstering breath as they went inside.
Ava was snuggled on a white flannel blanket that covered the bottom of the enclosed Plexiglas incubator. She had a knit cap on her head, a white knit sweater on her torso that covered her spindly arms and a diaper. Monitors were attached to her chest and foot. She had a nasal cannula to help her get the oxygen she needed.
Her eyes were closed, her dark lashes thick and velvety against her cheeks. She appeared to be sleeping comfortably. Looked sweet and vulnerable. And so very precious, this tiny baby girl.
A lump rose in Violet’s throat as she thought about everything the premature infant had already been through. It was one thing to accept responsibility of a child in theory, another to actually do it, live and in person.
Violet let out a tremulous sigh.
Gavin seemed similarly affected. His eyes still on little Ava, he reached over and took Violet’s hand in his, giving it a gentle squeeze.
Meg Carrigan, the nursing supervisor, appeared at Violet’s elbow. “You can come back and visit her as much as you want, but right now we’d like Ava to rest awhile.”
Violet nodded. The doctor in her understood the reasoning. But the “mom” in her wanted to stay. Forever.
Reluctantly, she stepped back.
Gavin took her elbow and led her out of the nursery and into the hall.
A crowd had gathered. Other parents. Staff. Visitors. Everyone wanted a glimpse of the little orphan. Mitzy was there, too, smiling. “Can you believe it?” She was practically gushing as she held up another sheet on her clipboard. “We’ve already had two dozen families calling, interested in giving her a permanent home. And they haven’t even seen her!”
“Great,” Violet managed to say, her treacherous heart clenching and unclenching like a fist in the middle of her chest.
Gavin nodded. Tightening his grip on her elbow, he escorted her down the hall and past the elevators, to a deserted corner. “You okay?”
“Wh-what do you mean?”
He edged closer. Head dipping toward hers, he asked quietly, “Are you going to be able to do this?”
Not sure whether to be insulted he doubted her or impressed he could so easily see her inner turmoil, Violet stammered, “O-of course!”
Gavin gave her a probing look that sent heat spiraling through her. “Really? Because, from my view, you already look a little too attached.”
* * *
HIS OBSERVATION HIT Violet hard, and while Gavin was sorry about that, he also knew it had to be said.
“You had tears in your eyes just now.”
She waved a hand. “You were choked up, too.”
Only because Violet had been choked up.
Gavin cleared his throat. He saw the vulnerability in her expression and wished there was some way to make this easier for all of them without admitting they might have made a mistake in agreeing to it at all.
Especially if she was this emotionally invested already.
Their eyes met and locked, generating another wave of heat between them. She stepped back slightly, but not before he caught the faint drift of the freesia perfume she favored.
“Look, I’m not going to deny I feel a little sorry for the kid...”
Her golden-brown eyes sparked with indignation. “A little?”
“Okay, a lot.” He rested his hands on her shoulders. “Being orphaned is a rough road.”
She inhaled shakily, reminding him, “As you very well know from personal experience.” Her dark brows knit together. “Which, maybe, is precisely the reason you should be involved?”
Chagrined, he dropped his hold on her. “Temporarily. In a very cursory—guardian in legal aspect only—way.” Otherwise, he wasn’t sure he could meet this child’s needs any better than he had his siblings’ in the aftermath of his parents’ tragic death.
She gave him an affronted look. “Well, that’s not my idea of being a guardian.”
Out of the corner of his eye he saw several people heading toward them. Figuring this conversation did not need an audience, Gavin cupped Violet’s elbow once again, opened the exit door that led to the stairwell and guided her through.
Abruptly, they were surrounded by concrete—and silence. She swung toward him, shivering slightly, her full lips slanting downward. “You can’t get emotionally attached to this baby, Violet.”
“Actually, I can’t not have feelings for her.”
Watching a shadow cross her face, he wanted to protect her all the more. “You know what I mean.”
Violet folded her arms in front of her, the action pushing up the soft swell of her breasts. She released another long, quavering breath. “You think I should handle the situation the way you do your ER patients?” Clearly aware this situation was becoming far too intimate too fast, she paced away from him. Leaning against the wall, she propped her hands on the railing behind her. “Treat ’em and street ’em?”
Not about to apologize for doing his job, and doing it well, he replied in a low, matter-of-fact voice, “Patients come in. They have a medical problem that needs to be dealt with. I diagnose it, administer the proper care and then wish them well as they head either out the door or to another floor of the hospital.”
“In any case,” she accused, “you don’t have to see them again or get emotionally involved.”
“Actually,” Gavin corrected, matching her high-brow tone, “some of them I do see on a rather regular basis. Anyone with a chronic health problem. Cystic fibrosis, cancer and congestive heart failure patients tend to come into the ER at least once or twice a year, if not more, depending on the situation.”
She moved to sit on the floor and propped her folded arms on her upraised knees. “Okay. I’ll grant you that.”
He sat next to her; so close their legs almost touched. “I never give anyone less than my best. It still doesn’t mean, however, that I’m unnecessarily involved with my patients.” The way, he observed silently, she often seemed to be.
“Well, that’s true.” Violet rubbed at an imaginary spot on her jeans. “You do have a rep for having a barbed-wired heart.”
Her teasing tone did little to allay the sting of the words. He elbowed her playfully. “Actually, Penelope said I didn’t have a romantic bone in my body.”
“What did you do to make her think that?”
Pushing aside the memory of the bitter breakup, he shrugged. “I think it’s more what I refused to do.”
Interest lit her curious eyes. “Which was...?”
“Sugarcoat anything. Life is what it is.” Fate had taught him that. “I’m not going to pretend otherwise.”
Violet pivoted to face him, her bent knee nudging his thigh.
Trying not to think what it would feel like to have the rest of her touching him, in a much more intimate way, he admitted wryly, “I think the consensus is that I’m ‘emotionally unavailable.’ And therefore, profoundly undatable.”
She tilted her head and then rose slowly, dusting off the seat of her pants.
He noticed she didn’t argue the assessment.
“That’s too bad. Everyone should have a great love at least once in their life.” Were they flirting? It seemed as if they were.
He got to his feet, too. Glad to once again be towering over her. “At thirty-two, I hardly think my time has come and gone.”
Violet laughed, suddenly looking a whole lot more relaxed. “True. I suppose there’s still a chance you’ll open up in here.” She tapped his heart.
He quirked a brow. “Or not.”
She was about to say something else when his phone beeped. He read the text message, then said, “I’m needed in the ER.” He paused in surprise as another text followed. “And so are you.”
