Found: A Mother for His Son

by Dianne Drake

  “Oh, Dermott! I didn’t know. I’m so sorry. It must have been so difficult for you and Max. And he’s so young. Have you two—?”

  Dermott shook his head, effectively cutting her off. “I never, ever talk about it around Max. Nobody else does either. Understood?”

  He’d just put her in her place, good and proper. That’s what she understood. Another thing she understood was that this was not the same man she’d nearly loved all those years ago. He was gone and in his place stood someone she wasn’t sure she even liked very much. The old Dermott had been kind and open. This one was cold, and evasive. The old Dermott had been very generous with the truth. This one withheld it.

  Yes, that’s what she understood, and it’s also what she had to remember. They’d both changed. Times were different. It was probably for the best because now she could put aside all those silly notions and memories.

  But, darn, he was still gorgeous. That hadn’t changed.

  CHAPTER TWO

  WELL, it wasn’t a grand welcome, yet here she was, five hours after arrival, making plans. Real plans. New curtains, a coat of yellow paint in the kitchen to brighten it up, a nice floor lamp and an overstuffed chair. Just like she had a right to make plans here. But she couldn’t help it. For once, she so wanted something to work out, wanted her roots to plant themselves deep enough to keep her here for a while.

  For someone who’d promised herself no expectations, she sure had developed her fair share awfully quickly. It was a worry, but right now she didn’t want to think about it. She had throw rugs on her mind, and pictures for the walls. Nice things she didn’t usually allow herself.

  Because she was tired. That’s what she was telling herself. She was a little out of kilter because she was tired. She’d had a long trip getting here, lots of jitters over her decision, and even more jitters over seeing Dermott again. Put them all together and they resulted in silly thoughts. Tomorrow she’d be rested, and thinking straight again. Yes, her resolve would be back where it should be, and her life would get back on the track she’d designated.

  At least, that’s what she was telling herself now. In the meantime, she was undecided about what clothes to unpack for the night, and what to leave alone. Staring into her open suitcases, Jenna was on the verge of simply shutting the lids and letting it all go until tomorrow when a buzzer from the first floor sounded. One buzz, then a couple more frantic buzzes coming from the clinic door. An emergency? The clinic had been empty all afternoon, but now somebody was in need, when Dermott wasn’t here?

  Dashing down the rest of the stairs, Jenna ran straight to the door, then opened it, to be greeted by a big man with a small, bloody towel wrapped around his arm. “Saw Doc and Max having ice cream downtown, and didn’t want to bother them. But I heard he had a new nurse working here, so I figured I could let you have a look at this.” With that, he held out his arm, but didn’t remove the bloody towel.

  “I can call Dermott. He gave me his cellphone number, and—”

  “No, ma’am. That won’t be necessary. It’s just a little scratch, and it would be a shame to interrupt his time with the boy just to take care of it. You are the new nurse, aren’t you?”

  Jenna nodded. The new nurse who was a little perplexed by this.

  “Then it’s you I’m here to see.” That said, and quite emphatically, he stepped all the way inside and shut the front door behind him. “No sense in driving all the way over to Muledeer for the doc over there to take care of this when you can do it. It’s a good two hours away, and I’d just as soon get this patched up here and get on home and go to bed.”

  Muledeer? Why would he drive all the way there when Dermott was right here? That made no sense at all. “What happened to you arm, Mr….?”

  “Wilkerson. Isaiah Wilkerson. And I’d extend a hand to greet you, ma’am, but I put my shaking hand through a plateglass window about fifteen minutes ago. Tripped myself going up a ladder to hang a picture, and used the window to break my fall.” He finally unwrapped the towel, showing Jenna what turned out to be a pretty nasty gash. One that would need stitches, and maybe a whole lot more, depending on the extent of any tissue damage he’d caused himself.

  “Are you light-headed, feeling nauseated, woozy, Mr. Wilkerson?”

  “Only when I look at the blood, ma’am.” He did look down at his arm, then turned his head away.

  “Are you here by yourself? Or did someone else drive you?”

  “By myself. My wife’s off visiting her sister tonight, and instead of bothering her to come bring me here, I drove myself. I am feeling a little tired, though. It’s…coming on me right now. A…groggy…feeling…”

  So was the deathly pallor washing down over his face. His speech was slowing and slurring, too, and Jenna knew this great hulk of a man was about to go out on her. “Look, let’s get you to the exam room, where you can lie down.” She hadn’t even seen the exam rooms yet. “After that we’ll figure out what needs to be done.”

  “Appreciate that, ma’am.” He sighed heavily, struggling to keep himself upright.

  “Jenna,” she said, grasping him tightly around the waist as his knees started to dip. “Any man I have to carry like this gets to call me by my first name.”

  “Jenna,” he said, straining to stay upright now. “Pretty name. Got a daughter…name’s Jennifer. Is Jenna short for…?”

  The interminably long trip down the hall to the exam rooms ended at the first room, where Jenna pushed open the door with her foot and was thankful to see an exam table not more than five steps ahead of her. Mr. Wilkerson had turned into deadweight, and while Jenna was up to hefting a pretty large man, Isaiah Wilkerson was larger than the average, and every bit of him was rock-hard muscle. “It’s Jenna. Jenna Joann Lawson.”

  “Pleased to…make…your acquaintance, Jenna,” Isaiah grunted as he dropped down onto the hard surface of the exam table and immediately plopped down onto his back.

  Jenna sprang around the table to crank up the head, then she turned on the overhead light. “Look, I really need to call the doctor,” she told him as she scurried to assess the various medical supplies in the room. It was a nice, tidy little exam room. The equipment was outdated, but still very functional, and it put her in the mind of something from the 1960s. It probably was, come to think of it. Dermott had, most likely, acquired the practice, as well as the equipment, from its original owner. Wooden exam table, not chrome or steel. Wooden cabinet. Old-fashioned sink. Overall, it had a nice, homey feel to it, and she liked it.

  “No doctor! Like I told you before, I don’t want…to interrupt him when he’s out with the boy. They need…their time together,” Isaiah said, his voice growing weaker. “If you think I need a doctor…all that bad, I’ll drive myself…over to Muledeer.”

  Now, that was just plain crazy. “You won’t make it to Muledeer,” she said, laying a gentle hand on the man’s shoulder as he tried to sit up. “You won’t even make it to the front door.”

  “I’m the patient here. Don’t I have…some rights? Some say…in who treats me?” His voice finally trailed off to a whisper and Jenna took his pulse to make sure nothing besides the obvious was going on. It was strong. His respirations were good, too. A little shallow, but not alarmingly so.

  And, yes, he did have a say in who treated him. But in his current condition, in a one-doctor town, those rights didn’t mean much. “Look, Isaiah, the first thing I need you to do is trust me. OK? You’ve lost a lot of blood and I don’t want you passing out, but that’s what’s going to happen if you don’t take it easy. So lie back, close your eyes, concentrate on breathing, and I’ll take a good look at your cut. If I can treat it, I will. But if it requires a doctor…”

  “Do your…best…Don’t interrupt…”

  “I know. Don’t interrupt Dr. Callahan.” Stubborn, stubborn man. Well, she’d just have to be more stubborn than he was. “Like I said, trust me, Isaiah.” She completely removed the towel from his arm. “I’ve been a nurse for quite a w
hile now, and I know what I’m doing.”

  She also knew his cut was so deep that it required stitches. Which she could do, but wouldn’t. It wasn’t her place since the doctor was only a few blocks away. “Isaiah, I want you to rest here for a few minutes, will you? Since I’m new, I don’t know where the supplies are, and I’ve got to go on a little hunt for a few items. You’re not bleeding right now, so I want you to stay still. And relax.” He needed a sedative, and a painkiller, which she couldn’t prescribe, so that gave her even more cause to call Dermott. Even if it was against her patient’s will.

  “I’m not going to lose my arm, or anything like that, am I?” he choked out.

  “Good heavens, no. You’re going to get some stitches, but that’s about the worst of it.” As a precaution, before she left the room, Jenna took his blood pressure, and wasn’t surprised that it was low, but not critically. With all his bleeding, hypotension was bound to happen. “Just rest. I’ll be back in a few minutes,” she said, then ducked out of the exam room.

  One her way to find a supply closet, she dialed Dermott’s phone. It rang twice, and when he picked up, rather than saying hello, he led off with, “Care to join us for ice cream? Wasn’t peppermint your favorite flavor?”

  He remembered that? Had he ever even seen her eat ice cream?

  “Dermott, I’m with Isaiah Wilkerson. He put his hand through a window, and he doesn’t want me calling you.”

  Dermott cleared his throat. “How bad is it?”

  “Not critical, but pretty bad. He has a four-inch gash in his right forearm, about three inches above his wrist, that will need stitches. And he’s threatening to go to a doctor in Muledeer if I call you in to take care of him. I mean, he really doesn’t want you.”

  “I’ll be there in ten minutes, but don’t tell him I’m coming because he absolutely will walk out if there’s any way he can do it. And in the meantime, go ahead and stick in an IV for me. He probably needs his fluid volume pumped up some. Use Ringer’s for now, since he’s been bleeding, and add about 5 of Valium to relax him…and keep him down on the table. IV bags are in the gray supply cabinet, top shelf. The Valium is in the locked medicine cabinet in my office. The key is in my office wall safe, and the combination is…” He paused for a moment, then went on, “Eleven-fourteen. And if you have time, get him cleaned up and prepped for me. Isaiah’s a big complainer, by the way.” He chuckled. “Nice man, but squeamish when it comes to doctors.”

  Eleven-fourteen. That was her birthday. November fourteenth. Maybe he’d known about her ice cream preferences, but surely this was a coincidence. Dermott couldn’t have known when her birthday was. Could he? She thought about it for a moment, and shook off the notion of it being anything more than a coincidence. His safe combination was merely happenstance. That’s all!

  Ten minutes later, true to his word, Dermott was there, standing in the hall outside the exam room, looking in while Jenna finished anchoring the IV and injecting the Valium into it. Before he could speak, Jenna raised her finger to her lips, warning him to be quiet. Then she gestured to the furthest end of the hall for their rendezvous, and met him there a minute later, after she’d put an extra sheet over her patient. “Bleeding’s stopped, blood pressure’s low—ninety over sixty-five—pulse and respirations normal. And the last thing he told me before he nodded off was that I was not to call you. So, what’s that all about, Dermott? He claimed he didn’t want to interrupt you from having ice cream with Max, which might be true, except he threatened to drive for two hours to find another doctor, and that’s just absurd.”

  “People here don’t want to disturb me. After my wife died I cut back on my hours so I’d have more time with Max. People here respect that, and try to help me do it. That’s all it is. Nothing devious. Nothing secretive. They just want to help me.”

  “Maybe. Although making a trip to Muledeer when you’re in Mr. Wilkerson’s condition still doesn’t make any sense.” It would be nice to think that people could be that caring, though.

  Dermott shrugged, but didn’t respond. “Is the wound clean, or jagged?”

  Apparently, the topic was closed, if not in discussion then most certainly in the body language Dermott was putting up. Stiff shoulders, deep scowl, impatient eyes. Secretive or not, it was strange. “Good, clean edges. Looks like one slice.”

  “Any tissue compromise that you could see?”

  “No, and his sensory perceptions are intact. Good feeling all the way around.”

  “Anything out of the ordinary?”

  Except the doctor? Or the stubborn patient? “Do you really want me to tell you what’s out of the ordinary here, Dermott? Because I’d be happy to.”

  Dermott leaned in, smiling. “One of the things I always liked most about you, JJ, was your feistiness. You always did speak your mind, even when no one wanted to hear it. In fact, isn’t that what got you here?”

  “Believe me, Dermott. This isn’t feisty. Whether or not you want to hear this, I’m curious and a little angry that a man with a serious condition might have killed himself because he didn’t want to interrupt his doctor’s trip to the ice-cream parlor. And I’m concerned that the doctor’s not more concerned than I am.”

  “Oh, I’m concerned. But I can’t control the people in Fort Dyott. They’re going to do what they want to do and I have to respect that. This is small-town medicine and it comes with rules you’re not used to.”

  “Rule number one, no matter where you are, is to save your patient, Dermott. But your patient seems to think it would be an imposition on the doctor.” OK, so she wasn’t ready to give up on it. She was stubborn. She admitted it. And she wanted to know, darn it!

  “You always were a fierce advocate, Jenna. That’s what makes you such a good nurse.”

  He used to be a fierce advocate, too. So what had happened to change that in him? “Your equipment is at Isaiah’s bedside. I’ve got portable oxygen standing by, just in case, and he’s sedated. I’ve also got an antibiotic ready.” All the things a good surgical nurse would do, and she was a good surgical nurse. Also a perplexed one. “So you’re ready to go, any time you want to start.” Jenna handed Dermott his magnifying goggles, then stepped back and folded her arms across her chest.

  Dermott let out a low whistle. “Feisty and stubborn. It’s aged well on you, Jenna. Better than I could have hoped for.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “It means you haven’t changed a bit. And I still like it!”

  “So, how’s he doing?” Jenna asked.

  “The sedative has him settled in for a little while. I left a message for his wife to come get him, and told her there’s no hurry. That he’s fine, and snoring away like a broken chainsaw.”

  “You did a good job, Dermott.” It had been nice watching him work again, even for something relatively simple.

  “Just a few stitches. You could have done them yourself.”

  “I don’t overstep my job. There was a physician on call, so it wasn’t my place to do that.” Jenna dropped down onto the brown leather couch across from Dermott’s desk and knew right off she could spend the night there, it was so comfortable. It was a nice office. Rugged, manly. Something that suited him. “So let me get something straight. You do take emergency calls when you’re away from the office, don’t you? You don’t really make people go all the way over to Muledeer?”

  “Of course I don’t. I’m on call around the clock.”

  “Even though the people here don’t want to bother you with their emergencies?”

  “Believe me, most people will bother me. You’ll find out soon enough. But Isaiah…he’s his own special breed of ornery. Nice man who has a real soft spot for children, and he didn’t want to interrupt my evening out with Max. Like I told you before, that’s all it is, Jenna. Don’t read more into it than that.”

  Maybe that was the case, but Dermott was visibly uncomfortable with this discussion. She knew his body language, and the tight way he held himse
lf and twisted away from her was practically screaming that he didn’t want to discuss this. So she wouldn’t. There was something more here, but she was the outsider and it was quite clear, even with Dermott, that she wasn’t going to be let in. So she scooted herself to the edge of the couch and pushed herself up. “I’d like to be friends again, Dermott.”

  “We are friends,” he said.

  “Are we?”

  “What gives you the idea that we’re not?”

  So many things did, but she wasn’t in the mood to deal with that now. Maybe the professional approach was best. Keeping her distance certainly wouldn’t get her into any trouble and, for once, that was probably a good idea. “Look, I’m going to go sit with Mr. Wilkerson until his wife comes to get him.” And try not to think about anything. Including Dermott. Including this whole, peculiar situation about his medical practice.

  Jenna discovered a tin of tea-bags in her little pantry, and that’s all she needed. She wasn’t sleepy, wasn’t even hungry now, although she hadn’t eaten for a while. Tea was enough, however, so she filled the teakettle and sat it on the stove top, then plopped down in the old chair in the corner, still trying not to think about anything. Especially not about Dermott. She didn’t want to pass judgment on anything so early into their professional relationship, although she was afraid his ill-sorted state of affairs here was already clouding her judgment a bit.

  She did want to fight her way through her skepticism, though, and keep an open mind. Meaning she wasn’t making any firm decisions yet. Because she did want this to work for her. For once, a little stability sounded good. So did staying in a place she didn’t consider a temporary stopover on her way to the next temporary stopover. It was like she lived her life from moment to moment, and that’s all there was, a string of unrelated moments. But now that she was here, she seemed to want connection in a way she’d never wanted it before, even though she was afraid of it.