Читать книгу The Doctor's Christmas Wish - Renee Ryan - Страница 11
ОглавлениеThe rest of Ethan’s morning went about as smoothly as his conversation with Keely. Before he saw his first patient, he had a stack of lab reports to review and phone messages to return, nearly all of which required his immediate attention.
He prioritized. Then took action, tackling the refills from pharmacies first, the more involved problems next. Halfway through dictating a letter on a patient he was referring to a specialist, his computer screen went blank. “Not again.”
He pounded at a few keys, only to lose most of the work he’d completed in the past hour. Good times.
Mouth grim, he tried to focus, but an image of breakfast with his neighbors flashed in his mind. He hadn’t realized how much he missed being part of a small, happy family.
Logically, he knew he’d been living in limbo too long, running in place, moving neither forward nor backward. He wasn’t ready for another relationship; perhaps he never would be, but it was time to stop spinning his wheels. Time he got connected in the community and did his part for the town.
Decision made, he opened his email program and fired off a message to a former classmate and the newly elected mayor of Village Green. If there was a volunteer opportunity in need of Ethan’s particular skills, Hardy Bennett would hook him up.
Ethan sat back. Why didn’t he feel better? Why couldn’t he shake the notion that the need for his skills was much closer to home, literally next door? He’d seen something in Flicka’s eyes, a sense of loss he recognized on a soul-deep level.
Clearly, the story behind the little girl’s arrival in Village Green was an unpleasant tale. Because he knew how it felt to have the future yanked away without warning, the unsettling sensation in his gut dug deeper.
His nurse stuck her head in the office. The Santa hat sitting at a jaunty angle on her head, along with the jingle-bell earrings she wore, was a visible reminder that the Christmas season had officially begun. “Your first patient is here, Dr. Scott.”
He glanced at his watch, frowned. Tasha Dupree was ruthless when it came to keeping Ethan and his partners on schedule—one of the many reasons he valued her—but she was way ahead of herself this morning.
“My first patient isn’t due until nine.” He raised a hand to keep her from interrupting. “I marked off the extra time this morning to answer phone calls and update patient charts.”
“It’s a walk-in. And before you tell me to hunt down one of our other doctors, the patient specifically requested you.”
Ethan made his way around his desk. Tasha gave him a big, toothy grin. He eyed the nurse more closely. She definitely had an amused look in her dark brown eyes that were the same color as her hair.
Somewhere in her late twenties, Tasha was known for her quirky sense of humor. He had a bad feeling about this walk-in appointment.
“You gonna tell me the name of the patient?”
“I’d rather let you find out for yourself.” She handed him the tablet she’d brought with her.
Ethan gave the screen a cursory glance, and groaned when he noted the name of his early-morning walk-in. Lacy Hargrove.
No denying the young divorcee was beautiful. She was also on the prowl for husband number three. Word around town was that she planned to bag herself a doctor this time around. Ethan was currently at the top of her list now that his medical partner Connor Mitchell was newly married to Ethan’s sister, Olivia.
Tasha gave him a sympathetic pat on the arm. “Want me to join you in the exam room?”
“Does a chicken have wings?”
The question earned him a dry laugh. “Of all the birds you could have referenced, I find it interesting you chose a chicken.”
Ignoring the wisecrack, Ethan scanned Lacy’s complaint. When his eyes landed on a familiar word—stomachache—his mind went to last night’s patient.
Ethan liked Flicka. But she reminded him of the little girl he’d thought would become his stepdaughter. Samantha had been just as sweet, just as charming. With his mind poised between past and present, he experienced a moment of utter grief before tucking away the emotion and focusing on work.
Blinking the screen back into focus, he finished reviewing the notes on Lacy’s ailment. Mouth pressed in a flat line, he handed the tablet back to Tasha and spoke in an even tone. “Where did you put the patient?”
“Exam room 3.”
“Let’s go.”
“Right behind you.” Adopting his same professional manner, Tasha followed him down the hallway in relative silence, if he didn’t count the tinkling jingle bells.
After determining that Lacy’s stomachache was simply indigestion, Ethan gave her the name of a good antacid, bolted from the room and continued seeing patients throughout the day.
By half past six, he was back at his desk, staring at his computer without really seeing the screen. He’d been feeling off since last night’s unplanned house call. The encounter with Keely had opened old wounds. This morning’s homey breakfast had only made the pain that much more real.
As he leaned back in his chair, Ethan’s gaze landed on a photograph from his army days. He was in full battle gear, his arm slung over Tracy’s shoulders. He’d been sent to Afghanistan to treat high-value patients. Tracy, an experienced helicopter pilot, had been assigned to fly the injured soldiers in from the battlefield.
It was love at first sight for them both. Following regulation, they’d held off dating until they were back in the United States. Tracy had been a single mother. Her daughter, Samantha, had stolen Ethan’s heart nearly as quickly as her mother had.
He’d proposed to Tracy six months after their first official date. She’d died three weeks later in a freak accident eerily similar to the crash that had taken his parents.
Samantha’s biological father had shown up at the funeral and taken her away immediately following the service. Ethan’s heart had been ripped out not once, but twice.
The loss of so many loved ones had left its mark. Life was fragile and could be gone in a blink. Too much pain came with loving and then losing. He would not willingly fall in love again, wouldn’t—couldn’t—go through another funeral.
Yeah, okay, he knew it was irrational. He loved his siblings, didn’t he? He could lose them, just as he had lost all the others. But why cloud the issue with logic, when he was perfectly happy living in the great state of denial?
Ethan didn’t blame God for his many losses. That would give the cold, distant deity too much power.
Needing to get away from his maudlin thoughts, he abruptly rose and left the office building. Once he was sitting in his SUV, the engine idling, he checked the time on the dashboard. Ryder would have left already for his shift at the hospital.
Ethan wasn’t especially looking forward to going home to an empty house. At least Baloo would be there waiting for him. Man’s best friend.
Fifteen minutes after pulling out of the office parking lot, Ethan swung his car onto his street. His neighbors had begun decorating their houses. Lights blinked from roofs. Man-made snowmen, plastic reindeer and Santa sleighs adorned the snow-coated lawns. He’d been dropped in the middle of Christmas Town, USA.
Instead of soothing his dark mood, the decorations reminded him of the family he’d lost, the plans he’d had for the future.
Once he was safely inside his garage, he told himself for the third time—or was it the fourth?—that he was perfectly fine with Baloo’s company for the evening. He actually preferred to be home alone with his dog most nights. He couldn’t experience any more grief if he didn’t let any more people into his heart. He had his siblings. They were enough.
He could practically hear his mother sighing in disappointment, and Tracy telling him that was no way to live. Yeah, well, they’d both left him. Not by choice, but he felt the hole in his heart, and his life, anyway.
Baloo greeted him with a series of exuberant barks.
Ethan scratched the animal behind the ears. “Bet you’re ready to go outside.”
Rising to his full height, Ethan glanced briefly out the window and noticed Keely’s house ablaze in light.
His throat cinched up tight. Since when did his neighbor turn on all her lights? Maybe Flicka was sick again. Or was she afraid of the dark? The thought tugged at the part of him that had nearly become a father.
There was something about the kid, something in her eyes, a lost look that reflected his own pain. He’d sleep easier knowing she was all right.
And while he was checking on the child, he’d point out to Keely—with extreme patience, of course—that she’d forgotten to make the appointment for Flicka’s wellness visit. It was the responsible thing to do.
Ethan was nothing if not responsible.
* * *
Because Keely was standing at her kitchen sink, looking out the window while she washed vegetables, she noticed the exact moment Ethan exited his house with a rambunctious Baloo.
Against her better judgment, she allowed herself to observe man and dog. Halfway between their yards, Baloo bounded into a snowdrift, then popped up with a ball in his mouth and white flakes clinging to his black fur. Keely could hear Ethan’s uninhibited laughter as he brushed off his snow-covered dog.
She never saw this side of him. She couldn’t help wondering why. She sensed something tragic had happened to him before he returned to Village Green. There were times when they weren’t sniping at each other that she saw the grief in his eyes. Thanks to Cutter, she knew that look of loss well.
Though Keely didn’t know any details, she sensed Ethan’s heart had been shattered by the loss of a woman.
Had it been a death or a bad breakup?
Either scenario indicated a man unwilling to let go of something, possibly someone, from his past. A good reminder, she told herself, that Ethan wasn’t the man for her.
That didn’t mean Keely couldn’t enjoy watching him now. Riveted by the sight of all that masculine energy unleashed in a game of fetch, she continued to stare.
As if sensing her eyes on him, Ethan paused in the middle of his windup. The smile he shot in her direction reached deep inside her heart and squeezed.
Gasping softly, she moved away from the window and that heart-tugging grin. No doubt about it, she was in serious trouble.
What was it about the man? He was good-looking, and sure, she liked good-looking men. What woman didn’t? He was also single, financially stable and a successful doctor.
But she also knew he could be arrogant, bossy and treat a woman—Keely—like a twelve-year-old girl instead of the adult she’d become. Added to her suspicions as to why he didn’t date, she knew to keep up her guard.
Minutes later, even prepared for the resounding knock, Keely still had to lock her knees and gulp for air.
Felicity rushed into the kitchen. “I heard a knock at the back door. Do you think it’s Dr. Ethan?”
The kid had excellent hearing. Keely filed away that piece of information with everything else she’d discovered about the little girl today. Turned out, Felicity enjoyed dance classes and ice-skating as much as Keely had at her age.
She also disliked playing soccer, tennis and other organized sports. Again, just like Keely.
There was still so much to discover about her cousin. At least she’d made considerable headway today. Unfortunately, whenever the subject of school came up, or Keely broached the possibility of meeting new friends, Felicity’s face turned gray and the complaints of not feeling well began.
Keely was concerned there might be a larger problem brewing than the child’s simple reluctance to attend a new school and meet other girls her age. Please, Lord, let this be a normal part of the transition into my home and not a symptom of something bigger.
A second knock sounded. Felicity gave Keely a look of impatience. “Can I see if it’s Dr. Ethan at the door?”
“Go ahead.”
The door squeaked on its hinges mere seconds before Ethan’s low chuckle rumbled in response to the child’s excited hello. Clearly, Felicity wasn’t shy around their handsome neighbor. The thought gave Keely hope for the girl’s future.
“I brought my dog over to meet you,” she heard Ethan say to Felicity. “His name is Baloo.”
A series of happy barks mingled with delighted little-girl squeals. “He’s so pretty.”
“Don’t let him hear you say that.” Ethan spoke the words in an amused stage whisper. “Baloo’s sensitive about his gender.”
“Oh, sorry. He’s so handsome,” Felicity cooed. “You’re a handsome boy, aren’t you?”
It wasn’t long before the child invited their visitors to come inside the house.
Baloo bounded into the kitchen first, tail wagging fast as a whip. Keely smiled at the handsome black Lab. “Hey, big boy.”
All but quivering with excitement, the dog leaped at her. Ethan caught hold of his collar just in time.
“Sit,” he ordered.
Baloo whined pitifully but immediately obeyed, then politely offered a paw to Keely.
Charmed, she obliged the dog by giving him a hearty handshake.
“That’s so cool,” Felicity announced, moving in for a better look. “Can I try?”
“Go for it.” Keely stepped aside so the little girl could take her place in front of Baloo.
With the same patience he’d displayed the previous evening, Ethan showed Felicity a series of tricks that Baloo could do. Sit. Shake. Lie down. “Now you try.”
“Okay.”
Only after Felicity took over issuing the commands did Ethan shift his attention to Keely. Oh boy. She blamed the stutter in her pulse on those piercing blue eyes. When Ethan zeroed in on a woman, she knew it, all the way down to her toes.
He’d changed clothes since this morning. The five o’clock shadow provided a dangerous, appealing edge. He wore a different T-shirt, but the slogan was similar to last night’s: Here I Am. What Are Your Other Two Wishes?
The man really was annoying. Snorting in exasperation, she lifted her head, found herself caught once again in his gaze. She really wished he’d quit staring at her with...those eyes.
“Hey,” he said with a knowing smirk.
Unable to speak, she hummed out a quick response.
His smile turned into a muffled chuckle. The slightly condescending sound increased her unease. Then came the familiar frustration. Antagonism was one step away. But giving in to the emotion would be childish.
“I, uh...” Keely grabbed the remaining scraps of her dignity. “I wasn’t expecting you to stop over again tonight.”
“Came to check on my patient.” He broke eye contact—finally—and focused on Felicity.
The little girl was running Baloo through his repertoire of tricks a second time around.
“How you feeling this evening, Flicka?”
“Huh?” Hand wrapped around Baloo’s outstretched paw, the little girl looked up. “Oh... I’m good. I didn’t have to go to school, so Keely and I spent all day baking cookies and making care packages for the Youth Center’s Christmas party.”
“Sounds like fun.”
“It was super fun. In a few days I have to meet Keely’s best friend, Olivia, and her daughters, Megan and Molly.” The child’s eyebrows pulled together in a worried frown. “They’re my age and Keely says they can’t wait to meet me.”
“If Keely said that, then it’s true.”
“I guess so.” She heaved a sigh, the little-girl worry evident in the sound. “Hey, can I take Baloo into the other room and see if he’ll play tug-of-war with a sock?”
Though innocently asked, the question brought a complete change over Ethan. His smile dropped, his shoulders tensed, his gaze went distant. It was as if he’d been transported to another place, at least in his mind, somewhere not altogether pleasant.
He cleared his throat, twice. “It’s one of his favorite games, especially with little girls on the other end of the sock.”
As the two hurried off, an awkward silence fell over the kitchen. Keely couldn’t understand why Ethan’s entire demeanor had changed simply because Felicity wanted to play tug-of-war with Baloo. She remembered a similar change in him last night.
In the days leading up to their broken engagement, Cutter had looked much like Ethan now. The memory made her doubly wary of the man standing in her house.
Nevertheless, she couldn’t stop herself from worrying about Ethan. He needs me. The thought surprised her. Ethan Scott was the most capable man she knew. And the most annoying.
And yet...
She placed her fingertips on his arm. “Are you all right?”
Shrugging away from her touch, he blinked slowly, squared his shoulders and drew in a long breath. Once again he was Mr. Cool, Calm and Casual.
“Something smells good.”
Now that they were back to polite small talk, a surge of complicated emotions spread through her. The sense of relief was easy enough to understand. The agitation, not nearly so much.
“I made chicken à l’Orange and baked sweet potatoes. And a healthy salad.” Don’t ask him to stay for dinner. Do. Not. Ask. “You’re welcome to eat with Felicity and me. There’s plenty.”
He looked about to turn down her offer. But suddenly, inexplicably, Keely very much wanted him to stay.
“Consider it payment for not teasing me over how I overreacted last night.”
“You didn’t overreact.”
She frowned. “I thought Felicity had appendicitis.”
“Given her symptoms, it was a logical concern.”
For the second time in so many days, Keely stared at Ethan as if he were a stranger. In many ways, he was. She felt as if they were meeting for the first time. She decided to pretend the change in their relationship didn’t matter. But it did.
And that scared her far more than she was willing to admit. The man had too many secrets, none of which he seemed willing to share with her. Been there, done that, have the remnants of a broken heart to prove it.
“While we’re on the subject of Flicka.” He pointed a finger at Keely. “I noticed you didn’t make the appointment yet.”
She blinked at him in shock. Ethan was arrogant, and the big, bad, frustrating bane of her existence, but he wasn’t a micromanager. His office staff handled scheduling. “How can you possibly know whether or not I made an appointment for her?”
“I checked.”
Of course he did.
“It’s important, Keely. Flicka needs a primary care physician. Make the appointment.”
“Felicity really took to Baloo tonight. What do you think? Should I get her a dog for Christmas? Would it help ease the transition for her?”
“Changing the subject, are we?”
“You better believe it.”
He laughed. Despite her irritation at his bossy manner, the deep rumble made her smile in return.
Knowing he was right, again, Keely stopped resisting. “I’ll make the appointment tomorrow.”
“I’m going to hold you to it.”
As if she didn’t know that. “You never answered my question. Are you staying for dinner?”
His hesitation returned. But this time it lasted only a few heartbeats. “Yeah, I guess I am.”
He looked mildly surprised by his acceptance.
That made two of them.
Felicity’s laughter rang out. Keely’s throat constricted at the happy sound, so different from the groans of pain last night. In that moment, Keely knew she was in over her head. How was she supposed to parent a child she barely knew?
All the fears she’d held at bay since she’d begun taking over legal guardianship shot to the surface. A gasp of utter panic leaked out of her.
Misinterpreting the sound, Ethan’s gaze narrowed over her face. “I don’t have to stay for dinner. You can take back the invitation and I won’t hold it against you.”
“It’s not that.”
Concern etched across her face. “Then what?”
“I... Oh, Ethan, I want to take good care of Felicity, but what do I know about kids? I spent the last decade working in a world of fashion models.”
“Keely, listen to me.” The epitome of calm confidence, Ethan took hold of her shoulders and gently turned her to face him. “You’re doing a great job so far.”
Instead of calming her fears, his unexpected words of praise had the opposite effect. “What if I fail her?”
Hands still on her shoulders, he tweaked her nose in a big brother sort of way. “You’re exhausted from last night. Once you get some sleep, everything will look better in the morning.”
“You’re probably right.”
“Of course I’m right. I’m always right.”
The arrogant comment did what no kind words could have done. She bristled. Prepared for a fight, she snapped her gaze to his, felt her anger melt at his compassionate smile.
That look had her abandoning her pride and admitting, “I’m really scared.”
“It’s okay to feel scared. It means you care.”
Two nights in a row the man had shown her unspeakable kindness. Defeat settled on her shoulders. Because if history had taught Keely anything, it had taught her that a truce between her and Ethan never lasted.
