by Laura Iding
“Caryn?” Luke knocked on the bathroom door. “Are you all right?”
“Fine.” She stood, tightening the sash on her robe before opening the door. She found it difficult to meet his questioning gaze. “Sorry about that. Guess I’m out of practice with this sort of thing.”
“Don’t be sorry. Ever.” His expression was serious as he leaned down to give her a quick kiss. He’d pulled on the black tuxedo slacks but not his shirt and she thought he smelt wonderful. Yet he kept things light, as if sensing her inner turmoil. “Hey, I bet baby is hungry. How about I whip together some breakfast?”
“You can cook?” She narrowed her eyes suspiciously.
“Of course I can cook breakfast. Didn’t I make you tea last night?” He looped his arm around her shoulders and tucked her under his arm as they walked into the kitchen. “You just sit down there and let me show you how it’s done.”
Maybe he was only pampering her because of the baby, but she couldn’t argue when he seemed to know what he was doing. They kept their conversation light, easy. The scent of French toast was filling the air when the doorbell pealed.
“Who could that be?” Caryn stood and made her way to the door. She groaned when she saw Debbie standing on her porch.
“Hi, Caryn. Do you have a few minutes?” Debbie wasn’t smiling and by the dark circles beneath her puffy eyes she’d had a rough night.
“This isn’t a good time.” Caryn stayed in the doorway, unwilling to let David’s sister see Luke in her kitchen at the ungodly hour of eight a.m. while she was wearing only a bathrobe.
“I’ll only be a minute.” Debbie’s expression firmed in a stubborn line. “Please. I really need to talk to you.”
How could she say no? With a sinking heart she opened the door, allowing Debbie to come in. She prayed Luke would put on his shirt, but no such luck. He came into the living room to see who was there.
“Hi, Debbie.” He didn’t look in the least bit embarrassed to see David’s sister gaping in horror at his bare chest and bare feet. The intimacy of the situation was not lost on Debbie. “Would you care to join us for breakfast?”
“I can see why this wasn’t a good time, Caryn.” Debbie’s eyes blazed with incredulous fury.
Her stomach clenched, furled into a knot. “I’m sorry. Please, let me explain.”
Debbie went on as if she hadn’t heard her. “Explain? How you’re sleeping with him?” Her brittle tone sounded like she might break. “No wonder you’ve been visiting David less and less.”
Caryn saw Luke’s scowl and the way he stepped forward on her behalf and quickly interrupted, “Luke, would you give us a few minutes alone?”
He ignored her, his gaze narrowed on Debbie. “You have no right to pass judgment on Caryn. Not when you have no idea what her relationship with David was like.”
“So that’s an excuse to cheat on my brother?” Debbie’s voice rose sharply.
Caryn pinned Luke with a look silently telling him to shut up and blurted out, “I broke off our engagement that night, Debbie. The night before David’s accident.”
“How could I be so stupid?” Debbie paced in agitation, mostly talking to herself. “I should have known. You never looked at David the way you gazed at him.”
Stunned by Debbie’s perception, Caryn sucked in a quick breath. How could she defend what was so obviously true? Caryn tried again. “Didn’t you hear me? David and I had a fight. Our relationship was on the rocks and our trip to Mexico convinced me it was over. I called off the wedding.”
Debbie spun toward her. “Was that before or after you got pregnant?” Then her eyes rounded. “My God. David’s not the baby’s father.”
“That’s enough!” Luke said coldly, making Caryn wince. “You’re way out of line. You need to leave—now.”
“Luke…” Caryn tried to get him to back off, but he wasn’t listening.
“Do you have any idea what your brother put her through?” he continued in a harsh tone. “Everything he did to her?”
“Luke, stop it.” Caryn glared at him, worried he was going to reveal everything. “Debbie, please, let’s talk about this.”
“No, I think I’ve heard enough.” Debbie’s laugh turned into a choking sob as she shot to the door, groping blindly for the handle.
“Debbie, wait…” Caryn jerked as if she’d been slapped when the door slammed behind Debbie.
“Good riddance,” Luke muttered.
A flash of red-hot fury blinded her. She rounded on him. “What is wrong with you? Why didn’t you back off and leave us alone?”
“Back off?” Luke stared at her as if she’d sprouted two heads. “And let her bad-mouth you? No way. You should have told her the rest. About the drugs and the money he took from you. You should have told her everything.”
“My choice, not yours.” Caryn swallowed hard, feeling sick as if dozens of vitamins were playing dodgeball in her stomach. “I didn’t ask you to rescue me. I could have handled this.”
Luke to the rescue. The realization hit hard.
“What’s wrong with me watching out for you?” he asked, truly puzzled.
“Everything. Nothing.” She rubbed a weary hand over her eyes. “You don’t understand, Luke. This isn’t just about me. This baby is David’s and my parents are gone. Doesn’t my daughter deserve one set of grandparents who love her?”
“Not if they’re going to hold this against you.” Luke’s tone was firm.
This? What? Their relationship? How could they have a real relationship when the balance of the scale was tipped so obviously one way?
She loved Luke, but he wanted to rescue her. To take care of her.
Because she was making a mess of her life on her own.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
LUKE heard Caryn’s bedroom door close behind her with a loud click and it took all the control he possessed not to follow her. She was upset enough without him adding more to her stress. He sighed. Maybe he had been too forceful during the confrontation with Debbie.
But what had he been supposed to do? Calmly stand there and listen while David’s sister whipped hateful accusations at Caryn?
Not likely.
His instinct had been to go to battle for Caryn. Defend the honor of the woman he loved.
Love. A goofy grin tugged at his mouth. He loved Caryn. With his whole heart and soul. Loved her and the child she carried. Maybe that was why he wasn’t bothered by the way Debbie had assumed the baby was his. Because he’d secretly wished it was.
He walked to the hallway and glanced at Caryn’s closed bedroom door, half-tempted to walk in there and demand she listen.
But the timing wasn’t quite right, he realized. Bullying his way in her bedroom wasn’t the answer. He couldn’t just barge in and convince her of his love. Not when she was too upset to listen.
He’d give her the time she needed to grapple with her feelings. There was no rush, they had plenty of time.
Turning on his heel, he went to the kitchen and put away the remnants of their breakfast, leaving the leftovers on a plate so Caryn could heat them up when she was ready to eat. Then he cleaned up the mess, half hoping she’d come out and give them a chance.
When there wasn’t any way to stall any longer, he let himself out, walking aimlessly down the street. Caryn’s house was located several miles from his, but at the moment he didn’t care. A walk would be good for him. Right now, he needed to clear his head and think of a way to get through to Caryn.
Debbie’s untimely arrival had ruined their magical night together. The woman’s timing couldn’t have been worse. He’d imagined making Caryn breakfast, then talking her back into the bedroom so they could make love again.
He frowned, remembering how Caryn had disappeared into the bathroom earlier that morning and hadn’t returned for the longest time. What had been going through her mind then? Surely not doubts about how he felt about her.
No, more likely doubts about her feelings toward him. His chest tightened at
the thought. Hormones had a way of messing up a person’s emotions. He could certainly understand her need to be careful, to not make another mistake.
How long had it been since he’d met Caryn? He mentally counted back. A week and a half? Two weeks?
With a guilty flush he realized that the two weeks he’d known her seemed much longer. No doubt partially because of the Crypto crisis. Maybe he had rushed her, even though he hadn’t meant to. And yet, if he had to go back and do things over again, he would still make love to her.
Because being with her felt right. There had to be a way to convince her their love wasn’t a mistake.
They needed to talk. And soon. But he couldn’t bulldoze his way into her heart. He had to find patience.
The woman he loved was worth the effort to make things right.
Luke called Caryn the next day to check up on her, but she didn’t answer her phone. As it was Monday, he figured he’d see her in the ICU.
When he noticed Caryn wasn’t anywhere around, a ripple of apprehension trickled down his spine. He found and cornered Dana. “Have you spoken to Caryn?”
“Yes, last night,” Dana admitted.
“How was she?”
Dana shrugged. “She seemed fine.”
Fine? He frowned. “Are you sure? Did she say anything?”
Dana rolled her eyes. “About you? No.”
He ignored the pang of hurt, glancing around the unit. “Why isn’t she here at work?”
“Because this isn’t her scheduled day to work.” Dana was growing exasperated with him. “What’s with all the questions anyway? Did you guys have a fight?”
“Not exactly,” he hedged. “I’ve left her messages, but she hasn’t called me back.”
“Hmm,” Dana’s murmur was noncommittal. “Sorry, I can’t help. That’s between the two of you.”
Yeah. Exactly the problem. He needed a chance to prove they could make their relationship work, but what if she didn’t give him that chance?
“Sorry, I have to check on my patient.” Dana glanced over her shoulder where a patient’s call-light was blinking. “See you later, Luke.”
He nodded and glanced at his pager, which was vibrating like mad. Glad for something to do, he read the message then went down to the ED to evaluate a potential admission. As he worked, he devised a plan to drive over to Caryn’s place that night after work. Much easier to talk over dinner, he concluded.
He admitted an elderly man with congestive heart failure into the ICU, wishing the nurse working alongside him was Caryn. The nurse—was her name Anna?—agreed with everything he suggested, as if she didn’t have an original thought of her own.
If Caryn were here, she’d challenge him. Ask questions to make certain he was considering all aspects of a patient’s comfort while providing caring support to her patient and their family.
The same way she’d supported him when he’d told her about Lisa. Coming over to hug him had been like a soothing balm to his soul. Lisa would have gotten along great with Caryn, he thought with a smile.
He liked the way he and Caryn could tease each other, yet be serious, too. The way she could lean on him, yet remain independent. The way they could laugh and very nearly cry.
Hell, who was he kidding? He loved everything about her.
Later that night, when he’d finished work, he stopped for Chinese food and headed over to Caryn’s bungalow. When she came to the door, she seemed surprised to see him standing there.
“Hello, Luke.”
“Hi, Caryn.” She wasn’t wearing the new maternity clothes he’d bought for her and his stomach dropped. Hopefully she hadn’t returned them. “Are you hungry?” He held up the bag of Chinese take-out. “I brought dinner.”
“I’m sorry, but I’ve already eaten.” She didn’t smile, neither did she open the door to invite him in.
He narrowed his gaze, trying to see through the screen door to the living room behind her. “Do you have a couple of minutes? I skipped lunch so I’m hungry.”
She crossed her arms over her chest. “What do you want, Luke?”
Her defensive stance wasn’t a good sign. “Caryn, I think we need to talk.”
“Actually, I can’t right now, I’m in the middle of something. Maybe another time?” The polite smile made him gnash his teeth in frustration.
He suspected there’d never be a good time.
He curled his fingers to keep from ripping the door from its hinges. “Caryn, please, let me in. Talk to me. What’s going on? Why haven’t you answered my calls?”
“I’m sorry, Luke, but I think it’s better if we don’t see each other for a while.”
What? No, she didn’t really mean that.
Did she?
He gripped the doorframe with both hands. “Why?” he asked bluntly. “Have you changed your mind about me? About us?”
She dropped her gaze and shrugged. “I think we jumped into things a little fast. It might be better if we step back and take this more slowly.”
“OK,” he agreed cautiously. “I can do slow.” Hadn’t he already figured that much out for himself? Patience. He needed patience. “So, then, let me ask again, would you like to have dinner? If not tonight, then tomorrow?”
She hesitated and he held his breath, fearful of her answer. Dinner was slow, wasn’t it? “Tomorrow night is good,” she replied after a long moment.
“Great.” He forced enthusiasm into his tone. The way she didn’t return his smile was not at all reassuring. “I’ll pick you up at six?”
“Sounds good. See you later, Luke.”
The door closed quietly in his face. He had to fight the sharp desire to break it down. Smash all the barriers standing between them once and for all.
Patience, he reminded himself as he turned and headed back to his car. Patience and perseverance would win her heart.
Because he couldn’t accept the alternative.
Back at home he ate some of the Chinese food and put the leftovers in the fridge. He prowled around his apartment, almost wishing he’d volunteered to take call for the night.
He tried to catch up on his medical reading, but the walls of his condo seemed to close in around him. For a change of scenery he decided to head on over to the medical staff library.
As he searched for the latest edition of the journal put out by the Society of Critical Care Medicine, he ran into the petite dark-haired surgeon he’d met during the Crypto crisis, Naomi Horton.
“Hey, how are you?” she greeted him.
“Good.” He smiled, gesturing to the surgical textbook she held in her hand. “What are you reading?”
“The latest techniques on cryoablation hepatic surgery,” she answered on a laugh. “And you?”
“The latest comparisons of antibiotic use and septic shock.” He shook his head. “Pretty sad way to spend an evening, huh?”
She laughed. “Pitiful.”
The moment of silence was awkward. He didn’t want to give this woman the wrong impression. As much as Naomi was nice, he longed for Caryn. He searched for a safer topic of conversation. “Did you manage to avoid drinking contaminated water?”
“Yes, thank heavens.” She shifted the heavy book in her arms. “I can’t believe how many of the physicians were sick. Patients, too. In fact, I have an interesting case I should ask you about. I’m wrestling with an ethical dilemma.”
Work was surely a safe topic, so he glanced over to the nearby sofa. “Let’s sit down, you can tell me all about it.”
Naomi sat, set her book aside and tucked her dark hair behind her ears. “I was referred to this case by a rehab physician friend of mine. There’s a patient in his facility who happened to get Crypto, which has caused his moderate kidney failure to become more severe. My friend, Dr. Lance Adams, has tried to talk the family out of dialysis because the likelihood of the patient recovering is non-existent. But so far the family has refused and, in fact, the patient’s sister approached Lance, requesting to be tested as a potential
kidney donor for her brother.”
Luke had a bad feeling about this story. “Tell me this patient’s name isn’t David Morgan,” he half joked.
Her eyes widened in shock. “How did you know?”
Oh, boy, it really was Caryn’s former fiancé. Good grief, he could just imagine Debbie doing something so drastic as to give up her kidney for the brother who wasn’t ever going to wake up.
“I know his story,” he answered vaguely. “But tell me, you’re not really going to test her, are you?”
“I don’t know what to do,” Naomi confessed. “If I refuse, I’m sure she’ll just find someone else. And there is a chance she won’t be a match.”
“And if she is a match?” Luke asked, raising his brow skeptically. “What will you do then? Can you really follow through on a living related transplant? Surely, being severely brain-injured precludes him from being a transplant recipient?”
“It’s not as if he’s taking a kidney that would normally go to someone else,” she argued. “I don’t know—is it our right to decide what this woman does for her brother? There is that one case in a million where a person does actually recover from a severe brain injury.”
“More like one chance in a billion,” he muttered. “The odds of winning the lottery are better.” Definitely an ethical dilemma. This must have been what Debbie had come over to talk to Caryn about the other morning. Only his presence had changed the entire focus of the conversation.
As with most ethical dilemmas, there wasn’t a right or a wrong answer. He and Naomi chatted for a little while longer until he finally headed home without managing to finish his reading. So much for his usual method of losing himself in his work.
Somehow, no matter what he did, his thoughts went back on Caryn.
Outside, the spring air was cool but he was too busy wondering if he should tell Caryn about Debbie’s request to notice the chilly breeze. Thank heavens she’d agreed to have dinner with him the next night. He couldn’t stand the thought of not seeing her again soon.
The message light was blinking on his answering-machine. Frowning, he strode toward it and pushed the button. He’d purposefully left his pager at home since he wasn’t on call and didn’t want to get sucked into working at the last minute.
