The Baby Who Stole the Doctor's Heart

by Dianne Drake

  She pulled the harness from the pack she’d brought along, strapped the belts on, did all the double-backs without a struggle, even though her hands were shaking. This time it was for real. It made a difference. She had to get it right because, trained or not, she was a mountain rescuer. She had a life to save.

  As she got ready, Mark was on the radio to Neil, giving him their location. And his last words were, “I’m sending Angela in. She’s the one we’re going to rely on to get Aimee out of there.” He clicked off, turned to Angela and, without a thought, tested her belts. “You ready?”

  She nodded. Smiled. “The question is, are you?”

  His answer was a kiss to her cheek. “I really didn’t want to fall in love with you, Angela Blanchard. You know that, don’t you?”

  She laughed. “And I really didn’t want to fall in love with you, either.” In that instant before she dropped to her knees to start crawling, when their eyes met, everything that needed to be said between them was said. The longings recognized, the needs acknowledged. The love fully realized. Words weren’t imperative because one brief look told the story. To break the moment, to return to her concentration, which she desperately needed now, Angela pointed down to the knee pads she’d thought to include. “See, I’m not as ill prepared as you thought I was.”

  “I’ve thought a lot of things about you, but ill prepared was never one of them.” He watched her crawl into the narrow opening. “Just remember, if it’s dangerous, if you don’t think you can do something, don’t. The cardinal rule of any rescue is to never, ever put yourself in a position that you’re the one who needs rescuing.”

  Words she took seriously as she crawled in, down on all fours, pushing her flashlight out front of her then crawling up to meet it. Repeating the same steps, over and over. She’d hoped that once she got in, the opening might get wider, but she was disappointed to find that the widening was only a few inches. She was, essentially, crawling into a cold, dark, damp chamber that brushed along both her shoulders, and only allowed her to rise high enough to be on her knees.

  Why would a child, especially a shy child like Aimee Landry, have come into a place like this? The only answer that came to mind made her angry. She was trying to escape, and this seemed safer than where she had been…which was with her mother. “Aimee,” she called, “can you hear me? My name is Angela, and I’m coming in to get you. Are you hurt?”

  The answer didn’t come as Angela had hoped. In fact, the only noise in the tunnel was what she was making…her breathing, the way her shoulders brushed the rock walls on either side of her, the clanking of the metal on her harness. Her own grunts of effort. The flashlight scraping over the rock floor. The noises amplified. Got louder. Nearly thundered in her ears. Yet when she stopped, everything became so deathly quiet that chills leapt up her arms, down her back, through her legs. “Aimee,” she whispered, then paused while her voice bounced ahead of her, echoing on the rocks, getting softer and softer until it died out. “Can you hear me?”

  She shut her eyes, held her breath to listen, and the nothingness amplified in the pitch dark. It was all around her, so still. And that stillness was so deafening. “Aimee?”

  She listened again. Held her breath again. Felt the blackness closing in on her again, but this time… Was that a moan? Had Aimee moaned, or was that her imagination playing tricks on her? “I’m coming, sweetheart,” she said, doubling the speed of her crawling. As if the Three Sisters had reached down into the very center of their core to help her, the chamber seemed to open a little. Her shoulders no longer touched the sides of the passageway, her back no longer scraped the roof. To her ears, her breathing gained volume. She could hear her heart beating, and feel it pounding in her temples. She was so close. So very close… “Aimee…”

  “Help,” the little voice whispered from the darkness.

  But where? She trained the light straight ahead, saw nothing. Looked left and right, hoping to find a hollow of some sort, but was greeted with flat rock everywhere. “Where are you?”

  No answer.

  “Aimee, where are you? You have to tell me.”

  “She’ll be mad.”

  She was so close to the voice she could almost reach out and touch it. “She’s not going to be mad at you, Aimee.”

  “But I didn’t do what she said.”

  Angela gave her flashlight another shove ahead, and it fell down…down into some kind of hole. Immediately, she grabbed a tiny penlight from her pocket, Mark’s penlight. And shined it down. There, just five feet below her, Aimee Landry lay huddled in a fetal position, clasping a teddy bear. Shivering so hard Angela could see it from her vantage point.

  “Found her!” she shouted back to Mark. He wasn’t so far away, really. Maybe fifty feet. Fifty feet that seemed like forever. “She’s in a hole. I’m going to climb down.”

  “Is she injured?” he yelled back.

  “Can’t tell. I’ll let you know in a minute.”

  “How deep?”

  “Just a few feet. I’ll be fine.”

  “No chances, Angela. Don’t take any chances.”

  Chances? Climbing down into the hole to get Aimee wasn’t taking a chance. But spending the rest of her life with Mark was, and she was ready to do that. Ready to take the biggest chance of her life. “I’m going down.”

  The climb was easy. More like a slide down the rock to the bottom. And once there the first thing she did was find her flashlight, rattle it, get it to flash back on. Then she went to Aimee, didn’t scoop her up as she wanted to. Instead, she went about a very methodical examination. “Are you hurt?”

  “Yes,” the girl whimpered.

  “Can you tell me where.”

  “My leg hurts. And my arm and head. And I’m cold.”

  Angela immediately pulled off her outer layer, a quilted vest, and laid it over Aimee. Then she grabbed her personal little first-aid kit out of her pack, pulled out the thermometer, and took Aimee’s temperature. “Her temperature’s ninety-six,” she called out.

  “You have a thermometer?” he called back, sounding quite amazed.

  “I brought my first-aid kit. And her pulse is one-twenty. Respirations forty. All a little high, but I’ve covered her up so that may help. Can she have water, Mark?”

  “No, not yet. We need to check her for internal injuries.”

  Angela looked at Aimee’s legs, didn’t see anything remarkable except cuts and bruises. But her arm… There was a slight crook in the forearm. Aimee flinched when Angela ran gentle fingers over it. “Is that where it hurts the worst?”

  Aimee nodded.

  “Well, I have something that might just make it feel a little better.” She knew it wouldn’t, but she’d read about the placebo effect, telling a patient something they wanted to hear in the hope they believed it, even though what was being told might necessarily be a little white lie. “This scarf around my neck…it’s magical. That’s why I wear it, because it always makes me feel better.” She pulled the knit scarf off, tied it gently and loosely around Aimee’s arm, more a buffer from any bumps she might sustain while they took her out of there. “If it makes your arm feel better, you can keep it on for as long as you like.”

  Aimee didn’t say anything, but Angela could see the scarf working its ‘miracle’ as Aimee’s sniffles lessened a little. “Now, does your tummy hurt?” she asked.

  “No. But I’m hungry.”

  “Well, that’s something we’ll be able to take care of once we get you to the hospital. You tell me what your favorite thing to eat is, and if Dr. Mark says it’s OK, I’ll make it for you myself.”

  “I like peanut-butter sandwiches. With jelly. Grape jelly. And chocolate brownies.”

  “Those just happen to be the best things I make. But like I said, we’ll have to ask Dr. Mark first.”

  “OK.”

  “Her belly feels normal,” she called to Mark. “Nothing rigid. She says it doesn’t hurt, but she does have a broken arm.”

  “W
ith a magic scarf,” Aimee reminded her.

  “A broken arm with a magic scarf on it,” Angela called. “And we’d like peanut-butter and grape-jelly sandwiches and chocolate brownies as soon as we can manage that!”

  “She’s amazing,” Eric said, as a group of about twenty people gathered around, ready to do whatever was necessary to get Angela and Aimee out of the cave. “Are you sure you don’t want her in your class? Because I think…”

  Mark shot Eric a look of total surrender. “You knew all along, didn’t you?”

  “I married her sister. Didn’t stand a chance after I met her. Figured since heredity usually wins out, you might get as lucky as I did. So, is this where I welcome you to the family?”

  “Do I need to call Gabrielle and tell her to start making wedding plans, that her best friend is getting married?” Neil asked.

  “Maybe I should propose first,” Mark suggested. “Preferably after we get everybody out of the cave.”

  “You warmed up yet?” Mark asked, pulling the blanket up over Angela’s shoulders.

  She was tucked into her bed at the lodge, with Fred curled up next to her, feeling more lazy than anything else. Today, Dr. James Galbraith was taking over her JD camp, assisted by more people than she could count. Doctor’s orders, she was to spend the day in bed, resting. But she didn’t mind it very much. Especially as Mark hadn’t left her side since the previous evening. Twelve hours, and he’d been waiting on her hand and foot, probably watching her sleep, taking care of Sarah. Everything nice.

  “I’m perfect. Haven’t stayed in bed this long since I can’t remember when.”

  “Someone needs to take care of you.”

  “Someone needs to quit worrying about me. I’m fine. How’s Aimee?”

  “Except for the fact that they can’t get that magic scarf off her, she’s great. The fracture isn’t serious, she’s warmed up nicely, they’ve rehydrated her, and they’re going to keep her for a couple of days just to make sure everything stays good.”

  “And her mother?”

  “In custody. They’ve taken her to a facility in Salt Lake City for a psychiatric evaluation. Aimee’s father’s here, though. He’s been worried out of his mind, not knowing where Karen and Aimee were. Apparently, Karen only had visitation rights, and a couple of months ago she and Aimee simply disappeared. He hasn’t left his daughter’s side since he got here.”

  “I’m glad she has someone to take care of her. You’re sure he’s…?”

  “He’s a good man. And a very grateful man that his daughter was rescued.”

  Mark sat down on the side of the bed, nudged Fred to the foot, and handed Sarah over to Angela. It felt so good to hold her daughter. But it also felt good knowing that in all these hours when she’d been sleeping, Mark had been the one holding Sarah. Sarah loved him and there was no mistaking the emotion she saw in him for Sarah. “I had the oddest phone call from Gabby a little while ago,” she said, scooting over to make room for Mark to lie down next to her.

  “About?”

  “Wedding plans.”

  “Oh, that.”

  “That? My best friend is making wedding plans for me and, as far as I know, I’m not getting married.”

  “Well, Dinah’s doing the same thing, and I’ve heard that the twins are all excited about being flower girls. They’re pretty sure Sarah’s going to be included in the wedding party, too, and they’re making plans for teaching her how to throw rose petals.”

  Angela glanced at Sarah, who was busy pestering Fred. “Do you know anything about this wedding, young lady?”

  Sarah totally ignored her, so she looked at Mark. “Am I the last one here to know something I should have probably been the first one to know?”

  He stretched out beside her, put his arm around her and pulled her into his side. “Well, Neil, Eric and I talked it over when you were in the cave, and—”

  “And just assumed?”

  “What did you want me to do? Shout out something like, Angela, will you marry me? I mean, I thought that should be saved for a more private moment.”

  “Gabby said Emoline is already working on flower arrangements, and Helen Baxter has pledged the grand ballroom as the first event when it opens up again.”

  “OK, so maybe we should have talked about this before I mentioned anything to my friends, but you’re the one who knows White Elk better than I do. You know how people get involved. So it’s not my fault.”

  “Say it again.”

  “What?”

  “The part where you’re shouting into the cave.”

  “You mean, Angela, will you marry me?”

  She nodded. “It has a nice sound to it, doesn’t it? Makes me feel…included. So tell me, has anybody set a date for us, or do we have to do that for ourselves?”

  “Not a date so much as a house. We have a house. Let’s see…how did that happen? Eric’s sister got married recently, she and her husband bought a new house together, and we’re going to get Eric’s brother-in-law’s old house? It’s large, rambling, perfect for lots of kids. Something like that, anyway.”

  She rolled over, propped herself up on an elbow to look at him. “You’ve made an offer on a house? But I thought…”

  “That I’d still want to leave, and take you and Sarah with me? Remember when I said I’d just keep going until I found it, but I didn’t know what it was going to be? Let’s just say that while it wasn’t love at first sight, it snuck up on me anyway.”

  “And you’re happy? Because I’ve been doing a lot of thinking, and if you still need to travel, I can do that. We can do that.”

  “But there’s nothing out there to look for. I found it here, and I like being here.”

  “I know Brad will let you adopt Sarah, if that’s what you want to do.”

  “He’s an idiot,” Mark said, kissing Angela on the forehead. “Of course I want to adopt her. She’s part of you and I love her. Although I’m not sure how I’m going to manage two of you. Actually, the three of you since Mr. Whetherby’s going into an assisted living facility and isn’t going to be able to take Fred with him. Which means Fred’s now part of this family, too. Of course, I’ve got lots of friends in White Elk, people who can help me, if I need it. Especially if…”

  “If what?”

  “If we have another daughter or two just like you.”

  “You want girls?”

  “Or boys.” He fished a folded paper from his pocket and handed it to her. “But I think we’re going to have to wait for a little while. Because it’s going to be vigorous, and I absolutely will not allow a pregnant lady into my class.”

  She looked at the paper. Frowned. “What’s going to be vigorous?”

  “Your classes. That’s your class schedule, by the way. We’ve decided to stay up at Juniper Lodge rather than doing the class work at the hospital, so your JD camp won’t interfere with your rescue classes since it will all be happening at the same place.”

  “But I thought…I mean, I know I don’t have the skill level you need.”

  “You took a thermometer with you, Angela. And a magic scarf. The one thing that I didn’t want to see in you was your raw skill. But it’s there. You’re going to be brilliant out in the field, especially with some tutoring on the side.”

  She arched playful eyebrows. “Know anybody who wants to tutor me?”

  He raised his hand. “But don’t get any ideas. I’m soon to be a very happily married man, if the woman I’ve proposed to ever gets around to saying yes.”

  “Yes,” she whispered. “To everything, yes.”

  “Yes, Daaa…” Sarah chimed in.

  “Daaa is right,” Angela said. And never, ever had a name sounded so good. “Happiness,” she said. “A word of Middle English origin meaning contentment, love, satisfaction, pleasure, or joy.”

  “And which of those describe you?”

  “All of them,” she said, snuggling into Mark while Sarah and Fred played at the end of the bed. “Every last one o
f them.”

  ISBN: 978-1-4268-8524-2

  THE BABY WHO STOLE THE DOCTOR’S HEART

  First North American Publication 2011

  Copyright © 2011 by Dianne Despain

  All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher, Harlequin Enterprises Limited, 225 Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, Ontario, Canada M3B 3K9.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

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  Table of Contents

  Cover

  Letter to Reader

  Title Page

  Dedication

  CONTENTS

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  Copyright