by Jillian Hart
“Glad we can help.” Chelsea shoved open the door to the first examining room she came to. “Come on in and let’s see what’s going on.”
“Bless you.” Mom and adorable tot ambled into the room.
Probably a muscle spasm, Chelsea reasoned, but she’d need X-rays to be sure there was no disk injury. She turned to Michael, but he was already gone, pacing down the corridor toward the front office with his shoulders braced and spine straight, likely to fetch the patient’s file. She couldn’t explain why she was even watching him. There was something about the man’s effect on her she didn’t entirely like.
* * *
“You were such a brave girl.” After a long day of doctoring, Chelsea held the bowl of Tootsie Pops for Alicia Wigginsworth so she could pick a flavor. Tootsie Pops were a tradition for Dr. Swift’s little patients, and now for hers. “Grape is my favorite, too.”
Alicia nodded in shy agreement before burying her face in her mother’s shoulder.
“Thanks, Dr. McKaslin.” Mrs. Wigginsworth patted her child’s back comfortingly. “Tell Dr. Swift I’m praying for a speedy recovery.”
“I will.” She opened the examining room door, chart in hand. “The injection site may be a little sore for a few days. If her fever doesn’t start heading down, call. You know the drill.”
“I do. I’ll let you know if there are any problems,” the mom promised as she stepped into the hallway.
“Goodbye, Alicia.” She waved at her patient, who watched her with tear-filled eyes over her mom’s shoulder. It wasn’t easy being little, or being the one who had to give a shot, but in a few days’ time the sweet little girl should be feeling a whole lot better.
The after-hours corridor echoed as the door to the waiting room whispered shut. The vague, muffled conversation between Mrs. Wigginsworth and Audra at the front desk were the loudest sounds in the echoing hallway.
“Looks like you made it through your first day unscathed.” Dr. Susan Benedict emerged from the break room, slipping into her winter coat. She was a young doctor, a few years out of residency, tall and slender with lovely long ebony curls. “Congratulations. Especially considering it was one of those days. Everyone tripped, fell, shoveled too much, caught a bug or slid off the road.”
“No kidding. I was so busy, I didn’t realize I’d missed lunch until a few hours ago. Crazy, but I loved it.” She rolled her stethoscope and slipped it back into the pocket of her white coat. “That was clever of Steve to run the staff meeting off the computer.”
“Praise the Lord for video chat. It’s going to be interesting to see how long Steve can hold out and not come into the office.” Susan’s amber eyes twinkled as she tugged warm gloves out of her coat pockets. “Thanks for seeing my patient this morning. Word is that Lenore is home, icing and heating just like you ordered. The muscle relaxant seems to be helping.”
“Good to hear. You’re heading out?”
“While I can. That’s one thing you’ve got to learn straight off. When the coast is clear, run for it or the phone will ring, someone will knock on the door or something will happen and you’ll be stuck here for another hour.” Susan offered a warm smile. “It’s a great profession, but it can take over everything if you aren’t careful. And since the coast is clear, I’m heading out. I’ll see you tomorrow, Chelsea.”
“Have a lovely evening.” She headed down the hall toward her office, smiling. She wasn’t alone in the clinic. Audra was still finishing up in front and a few doctors were finishing up their chart work. Michael was one of them, his office door firmly shut against intrusion.
She hadn’t exchanged another word with him through the day. She’d been so focused on her work and so had he. It was just as well because that’s where her attention needed to be. With a sigh, she waltzed into her office, small and impersonal, with just a desk, a computer and a phone. A small window looked out on the back lot where her car was covered by a foot of snow.
Her pocket chimed, the sound kick-starting a part of her brain that had gone dormant. Her sisters! Dinner. Yikes! What time was it? No clock in her office, so she hauled out her phone. Her eyes zeroed in at the time on the screen. Six-twelve. She was twelve minutes late!
Where R U? Meg’s text stared up at her accusingly. We’re waiting.
I’m coming! She tapped in, hit Send and fished a pen out of her coat pocket. She scribbled a note on Alicia’s chart, rushed down the hallway and slid the chart across the back counter in the receptionist’s direction. “Thanks, I gotta go.”
“Have a nice evening.” Audra shoved a lock of auburn hair out of her eyes. “Careful. The last few patients said it’s really icy out there.”
“Thanks for the heads-up.” She dashed into the break room, grabbed her uneaten lunch from the fridge, her bag from the shelf and shrugged into her coat. A few wraps of her scarf so it was snug around her neck and she was out the door.
One foot slid out from under her, but since she still had hold of the doorknob, she had something to hold on to. She managed to stay upright, but Audra hadn’t been kidding!
Slow down, Chelsea, she told herself, something Mom used to say. As she picked her way across the dangerously slick parking lot, she could hear her mother’s voice in memory. Chelsea McKaslin, slow down. You’ll always get where you’re meant to be. God will make sure of it, so stop rushing.
She missed Mom’s advice, even if she hadn’t always agreed with it. She brushed falling snow off her cheek, wishing she could turn back time so she could see her mom again and hear those words in person.
A few more steps brought her to her buried car. Wait, correct that. Her seriously buried car. It would take time and effort to dig out the poor thing. This was a total disaster. She hated being late! Grumbling to herself, she dug her phone out of her pocket. Her thick winter gloves didn’t make it easy to type out a message.
Car under tons of snow. Order without me. She hit Send and her phone chirped sadly. It wasn’t able to get a strong enough signal to send in the thickly falling snow.
Great. She jammed her phone into her bag, studying the monstrous white lump her car had become. Where to start? And with what? The little ice scraper under the front seat wasn’t up to this job.
“Looks like you have a problem.” A smoky baritone broke through the snowfall.
“Michael.” Impossible to see him through the storm’s thick white veil. Wait—there he was. A hint of muscled shoulders, a shadow in the downfall and she ordered her pulse to stay calm. “Are you always one of the first here and the last to leave?”
“Depends on the day.” He broke out of the storm, swathed in black and dotted with snow. “Do you need help?”
“Nope, I can get it.” She’d learned a long time ago to be wary of dudes offering “help.” Wasn’t that how she’d met Nick? Another total disaster. “I’m just figuring out my best strategy.”
“That would be getting four-wheel drive.”
“No kidding, but I’m partial to my old Toyota.” In more ways than one.
“Hey, it was a suggestion.”
“A good one if my school loans weren’t kicking in.”
“I hear you.” He hit his remote and his door locks popped. He leaned in and started the engine, leaving it to idle. “Hold on, there’s no way you’re getting out of this lot with that car. The snow is deeper than your bumper.”
“I was just pondering that particular dilemma. There are so many, I’m not sure where to start.” She rubbed snow from the driver’s side window with her glove and peered inside. Her poor car. “What are the chances the plow people are coming?”
“Not my area. Audra would know. She’s in charge of calling them, but it looks like they forgot the back lot. Again.” He knocked snow off his back door and opened up. “Remind Audra in the morning. That’s your best bet.”
“So, in oth
er words, just leave my car here?”
“It’s locked up and with this storm, it’ll be safe. Not too many car thieves out.” He produced a long-handled ice scraper from the back of his four-wheel drive. “I can give you a ride.”
“Maybe I’ll walk.” The diner was, what, a mile away? Okay, maybe not. “Better yet, I’ll give my sisters a call. One of them will pick me up.”
“So, are you still in denial about being stubborn?” He tackled the side windows with his scraper. Snow rained to the ground.
“Me? Nope, I’ve never noticed.” Denial was the best way to go.
“Yeah, right. You and me, both.” He opened the passenger door for her. “Climb in while I clear.”
“I’m not sure I feel comfortable with that.”
“You’re one of those difficult women, are you?” A faint smile cracked the line of his mouth.
“Difficult? No, but I’m not sure about you, Dr. Kramer.” She plopped her bag on the floor in front of the passenger seat. “You hardly said a word to anyone all day. I didn’t notice it, anyway.”
“I get what’s going on here.” He circled to the windshield and raked twelve inches of snow off the glass. “You’ve heard what everyone says.”
“No, but now I really want to know what everyone says.”
“I’m focused at work.” He tried to pretend none of what he’d overheard mattered. Cold. Heart of stone. Glaciers had more personality. “I don’t hang out in the break room making friends with my colleagues.”
“You hung out in the break room with me, but I’m not sure I’d feel comfortable calling you a friend.”
“Me either.” It wasn’t easy ignoring the dazzle of her blue eyes, sparkling with a hint of humor. “There’s nothing friendly going on here.”
“Glad you agree.”
“It would ruin my reputation. I’ve worked hard for it.” He pulverized a chunk of ice on the windshield with the edge of the scraper.
“So, in other words, don’t friend you on Facebook?”
“At least don’t tell anyone if you do.” He freed the windshield wipers from the ice on the glass and strode to her side of the vehicle. “Would you get in? You’re letting all the hot air out.”
“Do you know what I think?” She squinted at him, her amused gaze roving over his face, really looking. “I noticed everyone at work seems intimidated by you, but you’re not so bad.”
“I’m not so good.” Not socially anyway, although it wasn’t for a lack of trying. There was a time when he’d once tried hard to fit in, to take down the walls that had always surrounded him. “Where am I taking you? Home?”
“No, to Jeff’s Diner.” She hopped on the seat, reaching for the belt. “Thanks for saving my sisters from having to come get me.”
“At least I’m good for something,” he quipped, closed her door and trudged through the deep accumulation. His boots squeaked, the ice beneath the snow threatened to send him sprawling and there went his vision again, strangely arrowing to the gorgeous brunette in his vehicle.
“Don’t let this get around.” He dropped into his seat, kicking snow off his boots. “My reputation at work will be ruined.”
“That might not be up to me.” She gestured through the frosty windshield toward the faint shadow as the wind gusted, giving a smudged glimpse of the building’s back door. “Audra’s waving. Looks like your reputation is doomed.”
“No way.” He yanked off his gloves and buckled in. Heat zoomed out of the vents, clearing a tiny spot in the glass. “Foggy windows. What are the chances she can see you?”
“Saved by a technicality.”
“I’ll take what I can get.” With all four wheels engaged, he gave it a little gas, spun the wheel and lumbered across the lot.
Chapter Five
“I noticed your name on the letterhead,” she said before silence could fall between them. “I didn’t know you were a pediatric oncologist.”
“That’s me.” He rubbed off the fog on the windshield with his shirtsleeve and maneuvered around the building, hitting a patch of ice, which thankfully garnered all of his attention. All day long, she’d been there at the back of his mind, a thought here and there. He wondered how she was doing, wondered why it was so easy to talk to her. Why did he feel comfortable with her? Why her?
“That has to be difficult dealing with critically ill children every day.” Understanding so tender in her voice tempted him to open up.
Opening up was the last thing he wanted to do. Nothing good could come from it. But did that stop him? No. He turned out of the lot, keeping an eye on traffic, and down went his reserve.
“It’s not easy, but it’s what I’m called to do.” He couldn’t look at her, it would be too personal, so he focused on the icy road barely visible through the pounding white flakes. “When I was eight, I lost my little brother, Danny to leukemia.”
“I’m so sorry. That had to be so hard to go through.”
“There was nothing I could do to help him. Nothing I could do to make him better or stop him from dying.” He paused, as if unable to say more.
“I know how that feels.” Her confession hovered in the air between them, too personal, too vulnerable. “I so do. When you’d do or give anything to save a loved one, but it’s impossible.”
“Exactly. I remember standing beside his hospital bed and vowing to be a doctor when I grew up. That way I could help other kids’ little brothers.” He shrugged self-consciously. “Here I am, thirty years later.”
“Helping critically ill children and their families.” New respect curled through her, warm and powerful. “I’ve had to diagnose cancer a few times during my residency. Telling a loving parent that their child has a terminal illness was one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do. Dealing with it every day, doesn’t that get you down?”
“I look at it another way. I help them fight for life.” He hit his blinker and pulled to the curb. “There is nothing more important than fighting for life so love can go on.”
“I know what you mean.” She thought of her mother’s loving words she would never hear, all Mom’s phone calls and emails, her listening ear, her caring heart and the hugs she would never get again. Through the snowfall she spotted the diner’s striped awning. No doubt her sisters were seated behind one of those windows watching her. “Thanks for the ride.”
“No problem.” His gaze found hers, his cool-blue eyes warm with emotion. “I’ve got Macie waiting.”
“Right. Didn’t mean to stare.” She rescued her bag from the floor. “Is her arm still hurting?”
“It’s better. She spent Sunday night at my parents’. My mom likes to spoil her.” He tore his gaze from hers, staring hard at the snow tumbling down on the windshield in a dizzying swirl. “With the snow day today, I almost hate to think what I’ll be walking in on. Girl time. It makes a man uncomfortable.”
“Right. It’s tough being a dude.”
“That’s the truth.” A small smile touched the corners of his mouth, his dimples threatening to show. “Hair bows, French braids, movies about unicorns and rainbows.”
“My father survived it. I’m guessing you can, too.” She unclicked her seat belt, but the thing she couldn’t undo was the warmth of connection settling between them. The size of the passenger compartment seemed to shrink, the air felt too thick to breathe. A zing of electricity battered her heart. Okay, that was totally weird. Her comfort level shot into an unfamiliar zone. Suddenly, he felt too close, she was too aware that this guy’s handsomeness exceeded all others and really, now that she noticed, he was making her palms damp.
Alarm bells went off in her head. Go. Run. Escape. She grappled with the door handle, tumbled out into the snow and hoped she at least appeared dignified. “Well, have a safe trek home. Tell Macie hi.”
“I wil
l.” A muscle tensed along his strong, square jaw. He didn’t exactly look at her, more at the snow falling directly over her right shoulder. “Have a good evening.”
“You, too.” Heart strumming, she closed the door, stepped back on the icy sidewalk and her boot slid on a patch of ice. She overcorrected, her hand swung into the air and instead of looking like a klutz, maybe, just maybe, if Michael happened to glance in his rearview mirror she might come off as giving a breezy wave. That way she wouldn’t look like the shaken, confused woman she was.
Whatever had happened between them just now, she never wanted it to happen again.
The wind gusted, rousing her. Time to hunt down the rest of the McKaslin girls. The tap of snowflakes on the sidewalk kept time as she crossed the icy concrete, opened the diner door and nearly bumped into the owner, carrying a tub of rock salt.
“Hey, your sisters are already here.” Jeff held the door for her as she tripped by. “I saw you slip. Are you okay?”
“Just peachy.” Great. If he noticed, had Michael? Not even wanting to know, she marched passed him, unwinding her scarf and spotting her sisters immediately. Mainly because Johanna was leaning out into the aisle, waving.
“Hey, you made it.” Johanna patted the seat beside her and scooted over against the window. “You didn’t answer my text.”
“We worried,” Sara Beth chimed in on the other side of the table. “Then I saw Michael’s Lexus pull up and I thought, yay.”
“Why yay? You know this means my car is stuck.” And let’s not even think about what Sara Beth might really mean. “Totally stuck. I couldn’t have driven out of the lot with my oil pan intact. Maybe even the muffler.”
“Diversion isn’t going to work with us.” Meg, tucked next to Sara Beth, toyed with the straw in her chocolate milkshake. “Twice now you’ve spent quality time with the handsome doctor.”
“You two seem to really get along.” Johanna waggled her brows.
“Sure, what do you want me to do? Be rude to him? I can, if you want me to.” Honestly. Just because her heartbeat felt thready, didn’t mean the man affected her. Okay, fine, to be honest, he really did. But she didn’t have to admit it, she didn’t have to acknowledge it. Maybe it would be smart to ignore it. It might go away. “I work with him, right? And why didn’t anyone bother to tell me he shared an office with Dr. Swift?”
