Committed to the Baby: Claiming King's BabyThe Doctor's Secret Baby

by Maureen Child

  Em glanced over her shoulder. “Good. You got her. She tries to escape if you don’t shut the door.”

  He put Annie on the floor and did a slow burn while Emily finished putting away the groceries. Then she grabbed up the little girl and disappeared down the hall. Cal had no choice but to follow.

  He watched Em competently change the wriggling child’s diaper, something he should have known to do, but didn’t because he’d been left out of that particular loop. With the freshly diapered child in her arms, she went back into the kitchen and got a child’s cup with a lid, filled it with water and just a splash of apple juice. He was pretty sure it was called a sippy cup because he’d heard kids in the E.R. calling them that. On the floor surrounded by plastic toys and stuffed animals, Annie grabbed the cup from her mother and chugalugged, evidence that she was thirsty. Or she liked her cup. Or both. He didn’t know which and it ticked him off because he should know. He was her father.

  He watched Annie put her head down on a plump stuffed bear as sucking on the juice slowed. She blinked a couple of times before her eyelids drifted closed and her hold on the cup loosened. Her breathing grew slow and even.

  “She’s asleep,” he announced.

  “I know.” Em was washing apples at the sink.

  “How?”

  “It’s late afternoon and the heat wears her out.” She glanced past him and smiled tenderly. “But it’s getting close to dinner time so all she gets is a power nap.”

  “Why?”

  “If I let her sleep too long, there will be no getting her to bed at a decent hour tonight.”

  “Of course,” he snapped.

  Emily studied him. “What’s bugging you?”

  “Besides the fact that whenever I touch her my daughter screams as if I’m an ax murderer?”

  “Yeah, besides that.”

  “I don’t know anything about her and I’m her FOB.”

  “Think about it this way, Cal.” Emily shut off the water, then arranged the apples along with a big bunch of green grapes in a yellow pottery bowl. “Before Annie was born I didn’t know her, either. Now we’ve spent a little time together and I’ve learned about her. I do my best to make sure her needs are met so she trusts me to do that. All it takes is to put the time in. One day. Then another. And another. Until a pattern develops. If you’re up for it.”

  “Why wouldn’t I be?” he demanded.

  “You’re not a guy who gives patterns a chance to develop.”

  Not unhealthy patterns. He’d done that once and it was a disaster. “I’ve never had a kid before,” he said, not bothering to deny her words.

  “It takes time to build trust. And I get that’s not easy for you, although I don’t know why.” She held up her hands. “You don’t have to tell me. It’s probably on a need-to-know basis, and I don’t need to know.”

  She was right about that. No one needed to know that his ex gave him lesson after lesson on why women couldn’t and shouldn’t be trusted. Em reinforced it by keeping knowledge of his child from him. Patterns? Oh, yeah, bad ones. It’s why he didn’t do commitment.

  “Yeah, you don’t need to know,” he agreed. “And you’re right about spending time with her to build trust. How are we going to work that out?”

  “I’m not sure yet. But we will.”

  Looking around the apartment, he assessed his daughter’s environment. He recognized the light green corner group from Em’s other place and the cherrywood coffee table in front of it. There was a TV on a stand in the corner that was also familiar. Three wrought-iron barstools with beige seats lined up at the counter separating the kitchen and living room. They were new because her old place hadn’t had a bar. If he walked in her bedroom, would the floral comforter be there? More than once he’d swept it to the floor in his hurry to have her.

  His body tightened and he remembered that, too, the intensity of his need for her. It was different from the way he’d wanted any other woman. And he still felt it, which didn’t make him at all happy.

  “Do you need money?” he asked.

  “No.” The indignation in her expression was easy to read.

  “I don’t mean to offend you, but I have nine months of pregnancy, the birth and eleven months of Annie’s life that I owe you for.”

  “You don’t owe me anything,” she said, anger flashing briefly in her eyes. “Money isn’t why I told you about her. I just wanted you to know she exists. In case anything happens to me.”

  The lump in her breast. He’d forgotten that what with the mess of finding out he was a father. She’d said she had an appointment.

  “I’ll go with you to see the doctor.” If she was lying about it this would call her bluff.

  “I can handle it.”

  “I’m not saying you can’t.” He ran his fingers through his hair. “Just that you might need some help with Annie.”

  “That’s not a problem,” she protested. “I’m used to taking her with me.”

  “No offense, but she’s got a pretty good set of lungs. That could make actually hearing what the doc has to say difficult.”

  “I can leave her with Lucy—”

  “No.” Anger knotted in his gut. “Annie is my daughter. I can stay in the waiting room with her. Just a short-term assignment.”

  “Are you sure?” Em caught the corner of her bottom lip between her teeth.

  “Absolutely.” And he absolutely couldn’t look away from those small, straight white teeth sinking into the soft flesh of her mouth. It made him think about the rest of her flesh—the parts underneath her clothes. That made him want to get her naked, which was a very big problem.

  “Okay, then,” she agreed. “You can come with me.”

  “Good. It will go a long way toward establishing trust.”

  With his daughter, not with Emily. She’d burned him once and wouldn’t get another chance. After doing the deceit dance with his ex-wife, he knew that second chances were a slow slide to the dark side. Lori always had an ulterior motive for the suicide attempts that never succeeded. It kept him with her, at least until the next time he got fed up and threatened to leave when she’d try again and wind up in the E.R. to make a dramatic statement. Then, without warning, she’d left him first. Where was the win in that?

  And Emily had done the same thing. But now she was back. That just meant this was a new challenge, that there was something she wanted more than getting him together with his daughter.

  All he had to do was find out what that something was and beat her at her own game.

  Chapter Three

  As she walked through the medical building’s courtyard, Emily carried Annie. Cal was beside them, hefting the diaper bag. Part of her couldn’t help thinking of him as her knight in shining armor. The street-smart side knew there was no such thing.

  He’d offered her money, for Pete’s sake. Like he thought she wanted something besides security for their daughter if the breast lump turned out to be cancer. Playing the money card was like waving the red penalty flag saying he didn’t trust her. As if she needed more proof, he’d swabbed Annie’s mouth for the DNA sample. He’d looked like he felt bad about making her cry, but their little girl, just like her mother, showed no signs of forgiving or forgetting and wanted nothing to do with him today.

  Her appointment was for nine o’clock and they were ten minutes early. The shady courtyard was cool this time of day, relatively speaking since it was July. Desert landscaping dominated the center with rocks and plants in shades of purple, yellow, orange and pink.

  Emily stopped and pointed to the last door on the right. “Here’s the office.”

  “Okay.”

  “There’s no guarantee that I’ll be taken in right on time.”

  “I’m a doctor. I get it,” Cal said wryly.

  “You work in the E.R. Rebecca Hamilton is a busy ob-gyn. That’s like comparing apples and kumquats.” She shifted Annie in her arms. “There’s a fifty-fifty chance that we’re going to have to wait. Her ap
pointments always get juggled because of deliveries. Babies have a complete disregard for schedules and office hours. They arrive on their own time regardless of who it inconveniences.”

  “What time was Annie born?” he asked quietly. Black-framed sunglasses hid his eyes and their expression, which was probably just as well.

  Em rubbed a hand down her daughter’s back. “A respectable seven o’clock in the morning.”

  “Good for her.” He started to walk past her. “Okay. I get it. We’ll probably have to wait.”

  “Hold it. You might want some helpful hints.”

  “Such as?”

  “All indications are that Annie’s going to have some serious misgivings when I give her to you. Your assignment, if you choose to accept it, is to keep her safe and as happy as possible.” She tightened her hold on the little girl in her arms. “If she tries to get down, put her down. Let her do what she wants as long as she doesn’t bother anyone or hurt herself. Try to distract her with a toy. I packed her favorites, a sippy cup and crackers. Don’t worry about the mess in the waiting room.”

  “Mess?”

  “You’ll find out.”

  He nodded. “Got it.”

  “Can you change a diaper?”

  “Did you pack a schematic?”

  “Very funny.” She couldn’t help smiling. His sense of humor was the first thing that attracted her. Now was no exception. “A simple yes or no will suffice.”

  “I think I can figure it out.”

  “If nothing makes her happy and she won’t stop crying, remove her from the waiting room. She loves being outside and hopefully that will distract her. If not, go to the reception desk and Grace will come to the exam room and get me.”

  “Grace?”

  “Martinson. She’s the doctor’s receptionist, office manager and all around assistant.”

  “Got it.” He shifted the strap of the diaper bag more securely on his broad shoulder.

  Emily knew for a fact that the thing was heavy yet he didn’t seem to feel the weight. But Annie’s bulk was starting to make her back hurt. If only she could pass the child to Cal, but that would start a meltdown, not a smart move until it was absolutely necessary.

  “Okay.” She took a deep breath and started down the cement pathway toward the office. “Let’s do this.”

  “This” was the last thing she wanted to do, but the lump hadn’t gone away. Inside, the waiting room was air-conditioned and there was only one woman waiting, meaning either the doctor was on time or there’d been a delivery and earlier patients rescheduled. Either way it was a good thing for them.

  Emily signed the patient sheet with her name and arrival time, then found a bench seat by the back office door. She settled Annie on her lap and Cal sat beside her.

  The older woman in the chair next to them smiled. “Your little girl is adorable.”

  Although she didn’t feel like small talk, Em could never ignore an Annie compliment. “Thank you. I think so, too.”

  “She looks just like her daddy,” the woman said.

  Cal nodded. “I think so, too.”

  “How old is she?”

  He looked at Em who answered, “Almost a year.”

  The woman nodded. “You make a lovely family.”

  If they were giving off a family vibe, it was Academy Award–caliber performances. This was the first outing for the three of them, and not for happy reasons. Fortunately no response was required because the door opened and Grace Martinson stood there. Emily had gotten to know her pretty well during her prenatal visits.

  The green-eyed redhead in blue scrubs smiled. “Hi, Em. I’ll take you back in a minute. Mrs. Wilson?”

  The older woman stood and followed her into the back office. Em’s stomach did the nervous dance with a healthy dose of fear driving it. All her research said that 80 percent of breast lumps turned out to be benign, but what if she was in the 20 percent range? She squeezed Annie to her until the little girl squirmed in protest. What would happen to this child if something happened to her? Her own mother wouldn’t win any awards, but at least she’d been around. Sort of.

  She glanced at Cal who’d slid his sunglasses to the top of his head and looked ultra-cool and devastatingly handsome. He’d have to take care of their child on his own. In a few minutes he was going to get a crash course demonstrating exactly what that meant. Before she could give him last-minute pointers, the door opened again and Grace was there.

  “You’re up, Emily.”

  “Okay.” She stood with Annie in her arms and kissed her daughter’s cheek. Then she looked at Cal. “You’re up, too.”

  He nodded and held out his arms. She handed the baby over and steeled herself for the cry of protest that came instantly.

  “I’ll get her back as quick as I can,” Grace said to him, then shut the door.

  Em followed her to the first exam room where she was directed to disrobe from the waist up and put on a cloth gown. Left alone, she did as instructed, all the while hoping her baby’s cries would diminish and stop, but no such luck. She heard the front door open and close. He was following orders and taking Annie outside, which meant juice and favorite crackers had no effect on her daughter’s aversion to the complete stranger who was her father.

  Em felt like the worst mother on the planet, and the slime at the bottom of a toxic pond. This was all her fault. It wouldn’t be this traumatic if Annie knew Cal and that was something she’d regret to her dying day, which hopefully wouldn’t be too soon.

  It made her angry that she was faced with a situation she couldn’t control and had to rely on Cal. Even more, she hated how glad she was that he was there, but none of this was fair to Annie. She had no idea what was going on and was just scared because her mommy had thrust her into the arms of a man she didn’t know from a rock. No wonder she was crying her eyes out. That, at least, was something that could be fixed.

  She opened the door to the exam room, held her gown together with one hand at her chest and flagged Grace down in the hallway. “Annie’s really upset.”

  “I heard,” Grace said ruefully.

  “Can she come in the exam room?”

  “It will be hard for the doctor to check you out if she’s clinging to you.”

  “As long as she can see me, I think it would calm her down,” Em said.

  “Who’s the hunk?” Grace asked.

  “Dr. Cal Westen.”

  “The pediatric E.R. guy at Mercy Medical? He’s a friend?”

  Not so much, Em thought. “You could say that.”

  Grace looked puzzled. “What about patient privacy?”

  “I want him to know everything. Just in case.”

  “Okay.” Grace nodded. “I’ll go get him.”

  Em nodded then sat on the exam table, legs dangling over the end. Moments later she heard Annie crying and it got louder just before Cal brought her into the room.

  He handed the baby to her. “Sorry.”

  That made two of them. “Not your fault,” she said, cuddling the little girl to her. “Can I have her cup?”

  He dug the juice out of the diaper bag and Annie grabbed it, relaxing in her arms when she started to suck.

  “Do you want me to leave?” he asked.

  “No.” She didn’t want to be alone, and Annie didn’t count.

  The crying jag had worn her out and a bit of gentle rocking coaxed her into sleep. “Can you take her? It will be fine. Once she goes off, it takes a lot to wake her.”

  He nodded and set the diaper bag on the chair, then stood in front of her and held out his arms. True to form, Annie slept through the transfer and Em’s arms were grateful. Moments later the doctor walked in. A brown-eyed blonde, Rebecca Hamilton was in her late twenties, young for a doctor. She’d skipped several grades in school and that had given her a jump on her career and a successful, growing practice.

  “Hi, Emily,” she said, settling her wire-rimmed glasses more securely on her freckle-splashed nose. She noticed Cal an
d the baby. “Sorry. I didn’t know Annie was asleep.”

  “This is Cal Westen,” Emily said. “He’s a doctor.”

  Rebecca nodded. “I know you by reputation, Doctor, and I mean that in a good way.”

  “Same here,” he said.

  Rebecca looked at her. “So you brought along moral support?”

  Em nodded. “Kind of. He’s Annie’s father.”

  “I see.” There was no indication that Rebecca was surprised, but then she’d probably heard it all. “So, let’s get down to business.”

  She did the usual listen with the stethoscope and took a pulse and blood pressure. Then she stood between Emily and Cal as she parted the gown and did an exam of the left breast. Frowning, she said, “There it is.”

  Em was hoping this had all been her imagination and took a deep breath. “Is it cancer?”

  “Don’t go there,” Rebecca advised. “We have absolutely no reason to believe that. More information is required to determine exactly what it is. Could be a cyst, which is no big deal. Or a noncancerous mass such as a fibroadenoma, a benign tumor. Or an intraductal papilloma.”

  “Translation?” Em said, pulling the gown closed over her breasts.

  “That’s a small, wartlike growth in a milk duct. Since you nursed Annie, that would be my guess. But we need to do some tests.”

  “Mammogram?” Cal asked.

  Rebecca glanced over her shoulder, then looked back at Em. “Because you’re so young, I’d like to start with an ultrasound. It’s noninvasive, painless and radiation free. It should determine if the lump is a mass or just a harmless, fluid-filled cyst. If that’s the case, testing is over and there’s nothing to fear. Although we might want to aspirate the contents.”

  “What if it’s not?” Cal asked.

  “Then we get a diagnostic mammogram. It’s a digital, electronic image,” she explained to Em, because he already knew this stuff. “The pictures can be computer manipulated, making them cleaner, clearer and easier to read. We focus on the area of concern, compressing tissue and magnifying images so that we can get a much more detailed look.”