Читать книгу P.S. You're a Daddy! - Dianne Drake, Dianne Drake - Страница 8

“NICE VIEW OF my grandfather’s ranch,” Beau said, settling into the porch chair next to Deanna. He stretched out his long legs. “He used to hate it that someone up here could sit and watch what he was doing. But then he discovered the beauty of a good pair of binoculars and while I haven’t seen him actually watching anybody up here, I think it gives him a certain sense of satisfaction knowing he can look up as well as they—or you—can look down.”

“I don’t blame him. I don’t like being watched either. I spent a lot of my youth having people looking at me, trying to figure out what to do with me, and now I like to keep to myself.”

“And yet you’re a nurse?”

“Not in the sense most people would think of it but, yes, I’m a nurse.” They were seated on the north porch this morning, watching the emerging new day and trying to forget all the haunting, hideous memories from yesterday.

Her parents had died in a car wreck. Then Emily had asked, “Deanna, can I come stay with you for a few days? Alex and I had a fight and I may leave him for good.” Rainy day, emotions overpowering rational thought, horrible outcome. Deanna cringed, reliving it, not sure she ever wanted to get into another car. So she fixed her attention on the vast forest she could see from her porch. Concentrated on something pleasant, for herself but mostly for the baby. “This is lovely, though, isn’t it? So many trees. Nature everywhere you look.”

Beau chuckled. “Sounds like you’ve been cooped up too much.”

“I get out, it’s always about work, though. Never really have much time to relax and when I do, my view at home is the rooftop next door. From just the right position, which is my left shoulder pressed to the wall with my neck cranked to a forty-five-degree angle, I can look out of one of my windows and see part of the city skyline. But I usually come away with sore muscles if I do that so I keep my curtains closed.”

Of course, when she returned, she would have a new apartment, something a little farther away from the city. Maybe in a suburb, with nice playgrounds and lots of children.

Beau chuckled. “I lived in a place like that once. In medical school. One room, with a bathroom so small you had to sidestep into the shower. There were two windows, total—one with a view of the street and one with a view of a flashing red neon sign: ‘Ralph’s Packaged Liquors’. During the day, though, when it was turned off, from the right angle you could see a little park at the end of the block, with some trees. Sometimes I’d catch myself standing there, just staring at trees. I had all the trees in the world right here, never even saw them.”

It was pleasant just relaxing, enjoying the morning. And it seemed so natural it nearly made her forget she was sitting here with the baby’s father. Never mind that for the moment, she decided. She simply wanted to enjoy his company. Everything else could come later. “We all do that, I think. Take the easy, dependable things in our lives for granted. But I’m not taking this view for granted. It’s spectacular. I could sit here for hours and just look at … trees.”

“And I have an idea down there, somewhere amongst those trees, someone might be looking up here. Brax is too idle these days, doesn’t have enough to keep him busy, and he got that little glint in his eyes when I told him I was going to drop in on you.”

Impulsively, she waved in the direction of the Alexander ranch. “You should have brought him along.”

“He’s a stubborn old bastard. Fought the development up here when it happened, claimed it wouldn’t be good for his patients. And as far as I know, he’s never been up here.”

“Then he’s missing out, because the view of his ranch is stunning. Even though from here you look like ants.” She shifted, tucked her feet up under her, thought she could get used to this. “So, any word from the hospital?”

“Mack, the truck driver, did well in surgery. They saved his leg, removed his spleen, took out part of his liver. Put him in traction for his pelvis. Tough road ahead for him, lots of rehab in his future, but he’s got a good family, a huge family, actually, and they’ll get him through it.”

And all she had was this baby. Amazing, though, how the developing life inside her connected her to so much more than she could have ever expected. She and the baby might not be a large family but they’d be a good family. “Did he get any of that birthday cake?”

Beau chuckled. “Not yet. His family decided to put off the birthday celebration until he’s able to eat solid food again.”

“Good family,” she said, truly glad for the man. “And the other couple? The ones who went over the edge?”

“Lucky all the way around for them. A few sprains, strains and bruises. Husband went home this morning, but they’re keeping the wife an extra day because she had a slight concussion. And Lucas is fine, too. Social Services is looking for relatives who can take him in, but right now he’s still with Janice Parsons, the minivan driver you gave him to, and she’s going to keep him until other arrangements are made. So, how are you doing? That was a lot of effort for your first day in Sugar Creek. You look tired.”

“First day? More like first hour. And, yes, I’m tired. Didn’t sleep much last night, which means I’m paying the price for it this morning.” Stretching her back, she stifled a yawn. “But basically I’m OK. What brings you up here this early other than to see if I’m spying on your ranch? Don’t you have patients to see?”

“I save my mornings for … well, I’ll admit it. I spend time with my horses. Childhood passion I’m getting to indulge now that I’ve come back to Sugar Creek. So barring a heavy schedule or an emergency, I block out a couple of morning hours to spend time in the stables. And if there’s nothing pressing for the next hour or so, I like to do physical work on the ranch. The medical practice comes first, of course, but I believe in balance in all things, and a good part of my balance is tied to the ranch. Oh, and I do house calls in the evenings.”

“Seriously? You make house calls?”

“Comes with the job when your medical practice is so spread out. It’s necessary out here, and it gives me a chance to get off the ranch. It’s especially nice if I can ride my horse.”

“Tennessee cowboy doctor,” she commented. The image of him on a horse was … nice. “In some parts of the medical world you’d be laughed at for your old-school ways.”

“I have a surgical practice in New York and I can pretty well guarantee my patients there wouldn’t care to see me ride up on my horse.”

At his mention of New York a chill shot up her spine. That got her right back to his sperm donation—in a New York clinic—and the fact that she was carrying his baby. All of it a wet blanket effect that caused her to straighten up on the swing, kick off the casual stance and don the starched one. “Yet here you are in Sugar Creek, being a country GP. How is that working out for you?”

“Let’s just say I’m still getting used to it. Still trying to get myself settled into it after almost a year. And still trying to figure out whether or not I’ll succeed in it, as part of me is still city surgeon. But all that said, I do like the lifestyle I have here. I’ve never worked harder in my life, and never had such a sense of … freedom.”

Was this a good idea? Sitting here, actually getting to know the baby’s father—when her only intention had been to come here and observe from afar, maybe sample some of the local flavor and hope to pick up a few tidbits about him as she did. Never had she planned on … well, this!

Deanna, I don’t know what to do. I just got a phone call from the clinic. The baby you’re carrying isn’t Alex’s. There was a name mix-up. Similar names, I think.

Emily’s words had started a nightmare that had ended right here in Sugar Creek, on the porch, sitting comfortably next to her. “Yet you don’t know if you’re staying or going?”

“I love it here. Always have. But loving it and settling down here are two different things and I’m not sure if I’m cut out to be a country doctor for the rest of my life. In fact, I’d never really thought much past New York until I got the call that Brax had had a stroke and I was needed home for a while.” He shrugged. “You do what you have to do, and for now this is what I have to do.”