by Ginna Gray
Leah patted the woman’s shoulder and headed for the living room, shaking her head. Nothing, not even a family crisis, was allowed to disrupt Julia’s lifestyle.
She put up with Cleo’s occasional insubordination only because the housekeeper had been with the family so long—and because she knew what a jewel she had. Not only did the woman work magic in a kitchen, but she knew, down to the last calorie, what it took to maintain Julia’s size-six figure.
Leah’s mouth twisted. At least her father and stepmother cared enough about their son to drop everything and hurry home when she had called and told them of Quinton’s condition. Considering how much they enjoyed their jet-setting lifestyle, that was saying a lot, she supposed.
Julia looked up when Leah walked into the room. “Darling. Thank goodness you’re home at last. Did you speak to Mike?”
As always, her stepmother was a picture of elegance. This evening she was attired in a mauve silk dress that, for all its simplicity, probably cost the earth; her blond tinted hair was perfectly coiffed and her nails and makeup were impeccable. Yet there was a hint of fear in her eyes, and for once an anxious furrow had been allowed to crease her brow.
Immediately, Leah felt a pang of remorse for her lessthan-kind thoughts. Julia was self-absorbed and thoroughly spoiled, but in her own way, she did love her son.
“Yes, I talked to him.” With a sigh, Leah sank onto a chair.
“What did he say?”
“Julia, love, let the child catch her breath,” Peter Albright admonished gently, which earned him a pout from his wife. He turned to Leah with a fond smile. “May I get you a drink, my dear? A sherry, perhaps?”
“Thank you, Dad. That would be lovely. All in all, it’s been a rough day.”
Though she had never felt close to her father, Leah nevertheless experienced a surge of pride as she watched him stroll to the antique buffet that served as a bar.
Peter Albright was one of those men who would always turn female heads. Still slender in his early sixties, he had the elegant carriage of a much younger man, a thick head of silver hair, classic features and a perpetual tan that set off his startling blue eyes.
Those eyes were the only feature that she had inherited from him. In every other way she looked exactly like her mother. Though her father had been kind and generous with her, Leah often wondered if that resemblance was why there was this distance between them. He adored Quinton, and even though he and Julia spent far more time abroad than at home, the relationship between father and son was warm and loving.
Sighing, Leah dismissed the futile thoughts. They inevitably led nowhere, and she was feeling awful enough without going down that road. Leaning her head against the high chair back, she closed her eyes.
She should have known that Julia would not allow her a respite.
“Honestly, Leah, I’ll never understand why you insist on having a career. Especially one as grueling and, well, as messy and inconvenient as medicine.”
There was a pause, and even with her eyes closed Leah could picture her stepmother’s little shudder of distaste.
“The demands on your time are simply outrageous. Your patients call at all hours of the day or night and off you go. Why, you’re at their beck and call like some servant.”
Leah opened one eye and gave her stepmother a droll look. “I’m an obstetrician, Julia. I can’t very well tell a mother in labor to wait until office hours to deliver, now can I?”
Julia firmed her mouth and sniffed. “That’s another thing. I don’t know how you can bear to do what you do. Delivering babies is so...so earthy. And it isn’t as though you need to work. You have the money from your mother’s estate and the trust fund your father set up for you. And if you hadn’t been so stubborn you could have had a wonderful marriage.”
“Julia, please. Let’s not get into that again.”
“Well, I’m sorry, but I think it’s such a terrible waste. Lyle was a wonderful young man and suitable in every way. I’ll never understand why you broke off your engagement to him.”
Leah grimaced. “Suitable” to Julia meant he came from a wealthy, socially prominent family. “I told you, Lyle decided he didn’t want to be married to a doctor.”
Actually, that wasn’t the entire truth. Lyle had been fine with the idea at first.
They had met in med school, and she had been bowled over by his good looks and charm. Within three months they had become engaged. Leah had thought she’d found the perfect mate and dreamed of them opening a practice together. However, within a year things had begun to sour.
She had excelled academically and been at the top of her class, whereas Lyle had barely squeaked by. In the past, family influence had opened doors for him, and everything he wanted had come easily. He had not been prepared for the grind of medical school. When he flunked out halfway through their second year, he had angrily demanded that she drop out, as well. Unable to abide the idea of her succeeding where he had failed, he had given her an ultimatum: she could have him, or she could become a doctor, but not both.
Though heartbroken, Leah had returned his ring.
Since then she had discovered that most men, no matter how successful, were threatened by her intelligence and competence. As a result she had kept an emotional distance between her and the few men she had dated. Until she met one who was secure enough within himself to accept a woman as an equal she would remain single.
“Can you blame him?” Julia retorted. “Just look at the impossible hours you keep. No man wants to be married to a woman who is never there.”
“Then breaking off the engagement was the right decision, wasn’t it? In any case, I really don’t want to discuss the matter any more, so could we please drop it?”
“Leah is right, darling,” Peter said, handing his daughter a small cut-crystal glass. “She made her choice years ago, and no matter how we feel, we must accept it And to be perfectly honest, given the state of our son’s health, I, for one, have found having a doctor in the family to be something of a blessing.”
“Well, I suppose that is true,” Julia conceded grudgingly. “At least she understands all that medical mumbo jumbo. And she can deal with Mike for us.” She arched an elegant eyebrow at Leah. “So, tell us. What happened with him today?”
“When I brought the matter to his attention he was quite willing to help. I checked with the lab before I left the hospital. He was tested this afternoon.”
“Thank God for that.”
“Do you think he suspects anything?” Peter asked.
Julia gave a little moan, and her hand fluttered to her throat. “Don’t even say that.”
“No, I don’t think so.” Leah ignored her stepmother’s outburst. “At first I was afraid that maybe he did and that was why he hadn’t been tested, but it turns out that he was working around the clock the last five days, trying to save an infant, and he simply didn’t have time.”
“Yes, well, the important thing is, it’s done. Now we just have to wait and see if his HAJs or whatever you call them are compatible with Quinton’s.”
“Julia, I told you, the term is ‘HLAs.’ Human leukocyte antigens. They’re the proteins in the immune system that recognize and reject foreign tissue.”
“Whatever. As long as Mike’s match Quinton’s I don’t care what you call them.”
Frowning, Leah looked down at her glass and ran her finger around the rim. “About that—I still don’t feel right about this. Maybe, well, maybe we should tell Mike the truth.”
“What? Have you lost your mind? Oh, my Lord. I don’t believe this!” Julia sent her husband a desperate look. “Talk to her, Peter.”
“Leah, we’ve been all through this and you agreed. This is how it must be.”
“I know, I know. But it just doesn’t seem right.”
“Right? I don’t care if it’s right or not,” Julia insisted. “All I care about is saving Quinton’s life. I should think that would be your main concern, too.”
“It is. Of course it is.
But...” Leah set her empty glass on the end table beside her chair and rose and walked to the window. She crossed her arms over her midriff and absently rubbed her elbows as she stared out through gathering dusk at the rose garden that occupied the side yard. It was late winter, and the scene was barren and forlorn, the pruned bushes bare and sticklike. Somehow the sight suited her mood.
“But what?” her stepmother demanded impatiently.
Leah looked over her shoulder, her glance sliding from her father to Julia. “I just think that Dr. McCall has a right to know that Quinton is his half brother.”
Chapter Two
“No!” Julia shot up off the sofa and glared at Leah. “No! We are not going to tell him. Absolutely not! I won’t hear of it. Anyway, why should we? You said yourself that most donors never know who received their bone marrow. Why should this case be any different?”
“Because it is. To start with, Mike didn’t volunteer to be a donor. We sought him out precisely because he is related to Quinton. If we’re lucky and he is a match, we’re asking him to save the life of his half brother—a brother he doesn’t even know exists. It’s deceitful to keep that information from him.”
“I don’t care! What Mike doesn’t know won’t hurt him.”
“What about Quinton? Don’t you think he’ll be curious about the person who saved his life? How do you suppose he’ll feel if he ever learns that it was his half brother? How will he feel even to learn that he has a half brother?”
“He won’t find out. You swore you’d never tell him, and your father and I certainly won’t. Isn’t that right, darling?” Julia said, turning to her husband for support.
“If that’s what you want, dearest,” Peter soothed. “Although Leah does have a point. You know how inquisitive Quinton is. If he ever finds out that he has an older brother and we’ve been keeping it from him all these years, there’s no telling how he will react.”
“He won’t find out,” Julia insisted. “We’ll simply let him think his benefactor is a stranger who listed with the National Donor Registry. He knows the identity of those people is confidential.”
Leah ground her teeth. “Julia, the more lies you tell the worse things get. The truth always seems to come out eventually. Even if it doesn’t, I’m just not comfortable with this. I think we should tell Mike and Quinton the truth.”
“And what if Mike refuses to help just to strike out at me for leaving him and his father?”
“You don’t know that will happen.”
“Oh, I know, all right. Believe me, I know.” Julia began to pace, twisting her hands together. “My first husband was a hard man. I wounded his precious male ego when I left him. To a man like Ryan McCall, that’s unforgivable. There’s no knowing what kind of lies he’s told Mike about me. Ryan is sure to have poisoned his mind against me by now.”
If he has, who could blame him? Leah thought. Not only had Julia walked out on her first husband when he was struggling to keep his business afloat, but she had gone straight into the arms of another man—a much older, wealthy man. Three years later, when she had met Leah’s father, Julia had been a rich widow.
At first Leah had thought that Julia married her father for his money, as well, but gradually she realized that the two were devoted to each other. In Peter Albright, Julia had apparently found her true love—a handsome, wealthy man who adored her and found her self-centered nature utterly captivating. He not only indulged, but shared her passion for, the jet-setting lifestyle.
“Julia, I’ll admit that I don’t know Mike McCall very well, but he doesn’t seem like the vindictive type to me.”
“That shows how little you know. I’m telling you, the boy always was just like his father.” Julia sniffed and assumed a wounded look. “Neither Ryan nor Mike ever cared two cents about me, about what I wanted. If Mike thought he could hurt me through Quinton, I’m positive he would.”
The whine in her stepmother’s voice set Leah’s teeth on edge, but she managed to keep her voice calm. “Julia, you haven’t even seen your elder son in twenty-five years. You can’t possibly know how he will react to this situation. Dr. McCall has a sterling reputation. Everyone at the hospital admires and respects him, and his patients adore him. I don’t think he’ll refuse to help his own half brother, no matter how he feels about you.”
“And what if you’re wrong?” Julia challenged. “Are you willing to risk it? Do you want to take that kind of chance with Quinton’s life?”
Leah opened her mouth, hesitated, then closed it again. Frustration consumed her—her conscience pulling her one way; fear for her brother, another.
She turned back to the window and hugged herself tightly. Quinton was the most important person in her world. She might have been sixteen when he was born, but from the beginning she had been more of a mother to him than Julia.
Her stepmother couldn’t be right about Mike. He was a doctor, for heaven’s sake. A man dedicated to saving lives. Surely he wouldn’t let a boy die to spite his mother. Would he?
“Well?” Julia prodded. “Do you want to take that risk?”
Leah closed her eyes. Finally she released a long sigh. “No. No, I suppose not.”
A few days later Mike stormed into Henry Scarborough’s office. He marched across the carpet to the desk, slapped his hands on the top and glared. “Your secretary said this was urgent. I’m telling you right now, Henry, it had better be. I left a waiting room full of sick kids to come running over here.” Though easygoing, Mike had a temper that, when roused, was formidable. Interrupting him when he was with a patient was guaranteed to get explosive results.
“I assure you, this matter is extremely urgent. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have summoned you in the middle of the afternoon.” With one finger Henry pushed a folder across the desk toward Mike. “The blood workups are in.”
“What blood workups? What the hell are you talking about?”
“He’s talking about the test I persuaded you to take.”
Mike snapped his head around toward the voice, and for the first time he saw the two people sitting on the sofa on the other side of the office.
“Dr. Albright. Dr. Sweeney. I’m sorry. I didn’t see you there.” Which said a lot about the state of his temper, he thought with a flash of wry humor. Normally, he could sense Leah’s presence if she got within a hundred yards of him.
“That’s all right. You were rather distracted,” Dr. Sweeney said, fighting back a grin.
“Yes, well...” As Mike straightened, Leah’s comment registered. Only then did he notice that she was sitting forward on the edge of the sofa, twisting her hands together in her lap. “Is something wrong? Oh, no, don’t tell me there was some foul-up with the test I took. Is that what this is about?”
“No. No, it’s nothing like that,” Leah insisted.
“Hardly.”
Henry chuckled, and Mike looked back at the hospital administrator.
“Actually, I have good news. It turns out that you are a perfect donor match for Dr. Albright’s brother.”
“What? Are you serious?”
Henry Scarborough smiled at Mike’s astonishment, looking as smug as though he himself had performed a miracle. “Completely serious. Your HLAs are a perfect match for Quinton Albright’s.”
Mike sank onto one of the chairs in front of the desk. Too stunned to speak, he looked from Henry to Dr. Sweeney to Leah.
She watched him, chewing at her lower lip, her fingers still twisting and untwisting in her lap. Raw hope glittered in her eyes.
The sight touched Mike, but when he saw the flicker of fear there, too, he felt as though someone had punched him in the gut. Dear Lord. Was she really worried that he might refuse to help her brother—provided he really was a viable donor?
His gaze switched to Dr. Sweeney again. “Are you sure there hasn’t been some mistake? It just doesn’t seem possible.”
“There’s no mistake. I’ll admit, serendipitous matches such as this are rare, but they do happen n
ow and then. Once, after checking all his relatives and every registry in the country, a man’s fiancée turned out to be his perfect match.” Dr. Sweeney spread his hands wide. “These things happen. When they do, I’ve found it best to not question good fortune.”
“Yeah, I suppose you’re right.” Mike looked at Leah and managed a shaken smile. “Seems your determination paid off.”
“Then you will be a donor?”
“Of course. I didn’t think there was a prayer I’d turn out to be a match, but I’m happy I did, for your sake. And your brother’s, of course.”
The older doctor rubbed his hands together. “Good, good. Now then, when can we schedule the transplant?”
“Well, I’ll have to have my receptionist clear my calendar and find someone to cover for me, but I’d say in...oh, three or four days.”
“Three or four days! But—”
“Calm down, Leah,” Dr. Sweeney soothed, putting a hand on her arm. “There are some procedures I must perform to get Quinton ready for the surgery. Three or four days will do fine. Shall we tentatively plan on Friday morning at eight?”
“Suits me.”
Dr. Sweeney excused himself to make rounds, and Leah and Mike followed him out of the administrator’s office. In the hall she hesitated, then turned to him and touched his hand. Her vivid blue eyes shimmered with unshed tears as they looked into his. “Thank you, Doctor, for wh—”
“‘Mike.’”
“Wh-what?”
“Call me ‘Mike.’”
“Oh. Well, uh, all right...Mike. I can’t tell you how grateful I am, how grateful my whole family will be when I tell them what you’re doing.”
“I’m happy to help, Leah.” Her eyes widened slightly at his use of her first name, but she didn’t object.
“Please know, Doc—uh, Mike, that if I can ever do anything for you—anything at all—you only have to ask.”
“Well, now that you mention it, there is one thing.”
“Just name it.”
Smiling, Mike leaned in closer and murmured, “Have dinner with me tonight.”
