The Doctor’s Secret Baby

by Teresa Southwick

  He smiled at Annie, who looked more curious than wary. “Is that a truce?”

  “I think a cease fire is an excellent idea,” Em agreed.

  And she hoped she didn’t regret those words. It would be so easy to fall in love with him and that scared her more than being alone.

  Cal wasn’t above bribery. His goal was to know his daughter and if that meant buying Annie’s good will so be it. He wanted Em’s as well, which was why he’d called first before showing up at her door bearing gifts galore for his child. All age appropriate, of course.

  He rang the bell, not easy with his arms full. Since seeing over the stack was difficult, it was more by sound that he knew when Em answered the door. And laughed. God, he’d always loved her laugh, a sound so full of amusement it always made him smile.

  “Cal? Is that you? Or did Santa and the elves make a major screw up?”

  “Ho, ho, ho.”

  She laughed again, but he wouldn’t let it make him smile. A truce only meant he had to get along with her. Nothing in the rules said he had to like her. No way was he getting sucked in again by a deceitful woman. He’d married the first one and divorce ended any obligation to communicate. He’d fathered a child with the second and communication was required if he wanted to know his daughter. But as far as his attraction to untrustworthy women was concerned, it was way past time to break that pattern. And he was trying his best to ignore how much he was still attracted to this one.

  “Come on in, St. Nick.”

  Her sweetly seductive voice conjured up visions a saint wouldn’t know anything about, proving that Cal was no saint. He remembered her throaty moans when he kissed her breasts and belly and a sensitive spot behind her knee. The memory made him hot all over, a heat that had nothing to do with triple-digit temps in the Vegas Valley.

  He set the stack of boxed toys down just inside the door. In the center of the living room, Annie’s big blue eyes followed his every move. With interest instead of wariness, he noted. That was a step in the right direction. Her blond hair was still damp, evidence that her mom had already bathed her before bedtime. The little girl wore pink princess pajamas with a tank top and shorts bottoms. It was all he could do to keep from grabbing her up and hugging her tight.

  And that’s what ticked him off the most. He knew how to deal with kids of all ages who came to see him in the E.R. This little girl was his flesh and blood, and he didn’t have a clue how to proceed. Except that he didn’t want to make her cry again.

  He looked at Em who was also watching him. She was wearing a yellow camisole-type tank with white shorts that revealed her smooth, tanned legs. His palms itched to slide over that soft flesh and make her quiver with desire the way she once had. A lifetime ago. A time before he knew what she was capable of. It was on the tip of his tongue to lash out, because anger made a great shield against the strong feelings he couldn’t control. If there were a surgical alternative, he’d gladly go under the knife. For now all he could do was pray for winter when she’d need to wear more clothes.

  “So,” he said, selecting a package on the top of the stack. He walked past Annie whose gaze followed him all the way to the sofa where he sat. “I picked up a few things.”

  “Yes, you did. If this is for nothing, I can only imagine what her first birthday will be like in a couple weeks.”

  At least he hadn’t missed out on that milestone. “I didn’t sacrifice quality for quantity. Everything here meets the age criteria. Not a choking hazard in the bunch.”

  “I’d expect nothing less of Mercy Medical’s pediatric E.R. star.”

  “Star?” He shrugged. “I wouldn’t go that far.”

  “Apparently that’s not your call to make. The Review Journal has none of your self-deprecating modesty.” She pointed to the Las Vegas newspaper on the bar. “They did an extensive article about the hospital’s emergency room staffing a pediatric trauma specialist 24/7.”

  “Yeah. Administration has been pushing the idea for a long time. Jake, Mitch and I need to find a couple of pediatric trauma specialists for the group so we can increase our E.R. coverage. I remember talking to a reporter about it a few weeks ago.” He put the toy on her coffee table. “I didn’t think they were going to use the material.”

  Em put her hands on shapely hips, a pose that did amazing things to her already amazing body. “Think again. There were pictures.”

  “Oh?”

  She nodded. “Of you. In action. But the text included lots of nurse comments about the playboy, bachelor doctor who’s so good with the littlest patients. I believe the last part of the article said something like, ‘He’s dated half the women in the Vegas Valley and after reading this the other half will be forming a line for introductions.’”

  He didn’t deny it. There was a reason every TV soap opera featured a hospital. Rumors and stories spread faster than an immunization-resistant strain of the flu. The truth was, he dated. A lot. But as soon as a woman made noises about taking things to the next level he put on the brakes so no one got hurt.

  Cal studied her, trying to figure out if his active social life bothered her, but her expression gave no hint. It wouldn’t bother him one bit if she was bothered. As the saying went—payback was hell.

  While he and Em talked, Annie crawled over to the stack of toys piled by the door and used it as leverage to stand. Babbling like crazy, she smacked her little hand on the cellophane covering of a play set that included a Cinderella coach and fairy-tale figures. With a sweeping motion, she pushed that aside and did the same thing to the toddler radio just underneath it.

  Emily squatted down beside her. “Be nice, Annie. Your daddy brought these for you. Can you say thank you to Daddy?”

  Daddy? The single word filled him with awe as well as the awesome responsibility the title implied. Protection. Guidance. Welfare. Education. And a lot of other components that made up childhood and would shape his little girl into a productive woman. Which is what Em was doing with her Helping Hands program. Respect for her efforts threatened, but he wasn’t going there.

  “I wanted to get her a fancy doll, but there were multiple warning labels.” He smiled at Annie who’d stopped babbling when she heard his voice. “Have you ever noticed that three is the magic age where the toy world opens wide?”

  “As a matter of fact I have noticed,” Em agreed. Her dark eyes sparkled with humor. “I’m guessing that’s the magic age when she’ll stop putting everything in her mouth, which cancels out the choking hazard.”

  He nodded. “Then we have to hope she doesn’t put stuff in her nose and ears instead.”

  “Oh, God,” Em groaned. “You’re kidding, right?”

  He shook his head. “It’s not the number one trauma, but you wouldn’t believe what I’ve had to extract.”

  She steadied Annie and slid him a look somewhere between wry and concerned. “The world of toys and toddlers is a very scary place for a parent.”

  “Tell me about it.”

  Was this parental bonding? A shared concern for their daughter. Eleven months late, but better than not knowing at all. An excited screech from the little girl reminded him that coming over here wasn’t about bitterness and retribution. Or bonding with Emily. He was here to connect with Annie.

  He made a noisy spectacle of opening the packaging of the doll to get her attention. She glanced over her shoulder and watched him with great interest. After several moments, she plopped on her bottom, then went on hands and knees into crawling mode. In nanoseconds, she’d made a beeline to him and fatherly pride at the little speeder filled him.

  Cal glanced up at Em who smiled and nodded, indicating she understood and approved of his plan. It was a signal of cooperation and nice to know he had her support.

  Annie crawled beside him and used the coffee table to stand up. She watched as he pulled the pink stuffed, terrycloth-covered soft doll from the box and undid the excess of fasteners holding it in place on the cardboard.

  “They don’t make it
easy, do they?” he grumbled.

  “That’s an understatement,” Em agreed. She walked over and sat on the other side of the table, staying close by but in a neutral way.

  Again Cal felt the cage of his resentment rattle and struggled to keep it from opening and slipping away. Where could he hide if it was gone? He finally freed the doll and set it on his knee where Annie could touch it. She rested a small hand on the sofa for balance and he realized that she was basically standing on her own.

  “See that?” he asked Em.

  “I know.” She smiled tenderly. “But if she realizes it, she’ll sit down. Physically she’s capable of taking her first steps, but mentally not so much.”

  “She’s ready to walk.” Again fatherly pride in her accomplishment filled him even as he automatically screened her growth and development. “Right on schedule.”

  “Yup,” she agreed. “Any day now I expect her to be walking. She’s completely, blessedly normal.”

  “Normal’s good.” The downside of doing what he did was seeing the not normal stuff and again he felt the weight of responsibility to keep Annie’s world perfectly ordinary.

  She poked a tiny finger at the doll and started to babble, grunt and wiggle closer.

  “I think she wants you to pick her up,” Em said.

  His gaze jumped to hers. “Really?”

  “Yeah, she’s a typical woman. Retail strategy works like a charm.”

  “Busted.” He looked at his daughter. “Hey, Annie. What do you think about a vertical lift?”

  He set the doll on the sofa beside him and put his hands around her middle, gently lifting her to his knee. When she instantly leaned forward but couldn’t reach the toy, he handed it to her and she happily squeezed the pliable doll against her chest.

  “And we have a successful mission,” he said. “Contact without crying.”

  “Congratulations,” Em said. “See, all it takes is time.”

  “That, and judicious use of a credit card.”

  “A stroke of genius.”

  And he rode the wave as far as it took him. For the next hour he opened the gifts he’d brought one by one and played with his little girl. She voluntarily crawled into his lap and handed him things, asking him to show her how they worked. He made her smile and laugh. It was a long time before she got grumpy and that behavior was accompanied by the rubbing of eyes, which meant she was tired.

  “It’s time for this little girl to go night night,” Em said when Annie crawled into her arms and rested a head on her shoulder. “I’m going to change her and put her to bed.”

  She stood and stopped in the hallway before turning back. “You can come with us if you want.”

  He did and watched her competently and confidently diaper then rock Annie to sleep. Em put her on her back in the white crib with the pink princess sheets and blanket. After covering her to the waist, she turned on a night-light and led him back into the living room.

  Cal didn’t have the words to describe the excitement and exhilaration of holding his child and taking positive steps in gaining her trust. But trust didn’t extend to he and Em.

  “It’s getting late, Cal.” She opened the door. “Thanks for coming over.”

  “Thanks for letting me.” He stopped in front of her, feeling the heat outside mix with the cool air within. When cold air mixed with hot, it created just the right conditions for a tornado.

  This woman had a mouth made for kissing and he knew that from personal experience. He’d missed a lot about Emily after she walked away from their affair, and kissing was right at the top of that list. Apparently the adrenaline of euphoria was still pumping through him, which was the only explanation for what he did next.

  Cal slid an arm around her waist and pulled her against him as he lowered his mouth to hers. The touch drained the tension he hadn’t even realized was coiled inside him. He tasted surprise on her lips just before the surrender in a mix of tongue and teeth and teasing. Her breasts nestled against his chest, making him fervently wish they were skin to skin. His fingers found the hem of her shirt and he was just about to slide it up when she pressed her hands to his shoulders.

  It was a signal, a negative one and not what his body was hoping for. In the combination of outside and inside light he could see that Em’s pulse and heart rate were as elevated as his own and there was some satisfaction in that.

  He stepped back and sucked air into his lungs before saying, “That was a combination thank-you and good-night.”

  “I knew that,” she said, her voice husky and breathless at the same time.

  “I’m going now.”

  “That would be best,” she agreed.

  “Thanks for letting me come over and not giving me a hard time for spoiling Annie.”

  “Good night, Cal.”

  After she shut the door, he realized the inherent problem with what just happened. She didn’t believe his lame excuse for kissing her any more than he did.

  Chapter Five

  Emily had terminated her per diem status at the same hospital where Cal worked immediately after the disastrous conversation when she’d tried to tell him about her pregnancy. At the time she’d thought it the best thing, although she loved this hospital. Now that he knew about Annie, there was no reason to avoid him, and Em had activated her employment status at Mercy Medical Center.

  Earlier that morning when she’d walked to the facility from the parking lot that overlooked Mercy Medical Center Parkway she realized how much she’d missed this place. The beautiful bell tower outside evoked spirituality and charm even before setting foot inside the building. In the lobby, a perfectly lighted painting of a single yellow rose and the inspirational words carved over graceful archways continued the theme of peace.

  Within the walls of this hospital, the dedicated staff channeled the power of working together into healing the mind, body and spirit of the patients. Another thing she was beginning to realize was how much she’d missed Cal and seeing him at work. As a representative of social services, she was called in if there was a suspicion of child abuse, elder mistreatment or a financial need. She was on her way to the E.R. right now because Cal had asked for a social worker to see one of his patients.

  Her mind should be on her work, but just the thought of Cal made her mouth tingle with memories of his kiss. A combination of good-night and thank-you, he’d said. It was less complicated to take him at his word, but their mouths had been way too familiar, way too eager, way too impatient for more, and the kiss had gone on far too long to believe the touch was that simple.

  Her stomach knotted—a combination of nerves and anticipation. When the E.R.’s automatic doors whispered apart, she walked through them and saw him at the information desk, talking to the nurse manager. Rhonda angled her chin toward the entrance, and Cal glanced over his shoulder, before straightening to face her.

  Emily stopped at the desk. “Hi, Rhonda. Cal.”

  The curvy, brown-eyed blonde nodded. “The name badge is a big clue that you’re working.”

  “Yes. Social Services is understaffed because of vacations and called me in to help out.”

  “I see.” Rhonda gave her a cool stare.

  “Where’s Annie?” Cal asked. “With Lucy? Or Patty?”

  “Not exactly. They have work and school respectively. Annie’s at Nooks and Nannies, a day-care center.”

  “So what happens to Oscar and Henry?”

  “They’re at the day-care center, too, while their moms are at work on-site. Ginger Davis, the president and director, runs a program on the UNLV campus that utilizes early childhood education students who get hours toward their certification to work in that field. She offers child care at a free or reduced rate for moms who qualify for assistance.”

  He didn’t argue, but happy didn’t come close to describing his expression. Glancing over his shoulder he said, “Weren’t you on your way to lunch, Rhonda?”

  “Was I?” she asked, looking from him to Em.

&n
bsp; “You were, and I recommend sticking to that plan while things are quiet here. There’s no one in the waiting room and you can’t count on that to last very long.” He nodded, a small movement that let her know he was okay. “The asthmatic is finally stabilized. I’m going to watch him a little longer to make sure he’s okay before signing the discharge order.”

  “He doesn’t need to be admitted?” she asked.

  “Not this time. But he’s had too many E.R. visits.” He looked at Emily. “And that’s what I need to talk to you about.”

  “Okay.”

  “I’ll be back,” Rhonda said, sliding off her chair.

  Emily felt the wariness and missed the warm acquaintance she used to enjoy with Cal’s right-hand gal. “Have a nice lunch, Rhonda.”

  Her only response was a quick wave before the woman rounded the corner to the cafeteria.

  She looked up at Cal. Somehow the man managed to make the blue scrubs look less like pajamas and more like a sexy, heroic, knight-in-shining armor suit. But that would imply he was acting and the stethoscope he wore draped around his neck was a prop. Nothing could be further from the truth. He cared passionately about his small patients. And that was why he’d sent for her—not her specifically, but someone from Social Services.

  “What can I do for you?” she asked.

  His gaze darkened for a moment, like it had after their kiss. “It’s the third time in ten days this kid’s been in the E.R. for asthma. This time we just barely kept him from being admitted, and possibly put on a ventilator.”

  “How can I help?”

  “The problem is that when he gets here the attack is so severe he needs immediate intervention because he hasn’t used rescue meds. The family recently lost their medical insurance when Dad was laid off from his construction job.”

  Em remembered what he’d said about not wanting to see the same patients in the E.R. “What does the little guy need?”

  “To learn how to manage the condition. The family has to understand that maintenance medications are necessary to stop an episode that could result in hospitalization, which is pretty traumatic, not to mention expensive. The ultimate goal is to minimize or prevent permanent lung damage.”