“Me, too. Good luck.”
He headed for the checkout then hurried home. There was barely time to unload before he collected Jane and went to fetch his daughter.
Ready or not, a new phase of his life had begun.
AT HETTY’S HOUSE, Jane helped carry a couple of suitcases to the car while the excited girl loaded her father’s arms with stuffed animals. According to her grandmother, Pauline had left already to rejoin the band.
“Take good care of my little angel,” Hetty insisted.
“The best.” Luke looked ready to skyrocket with happiness. “I’ll give you a call to arrange a visit very soon.”
“I’d love that.”
“With all this stress, you should see your doctor about adjusting your medication.”
“I’ll call him tomorrow. That’s a promise.”
On the drive to Harmony Circle, Zoey peppered Luke and Jane with questions. How big was her bedroom? How close was the swimming pool? In her eagerness, she scarcely paused to hear the answers, and although Luke answered patiently, Jane sensed his restless energy humming through the air. Father and daughter were a matched pair in their high spirits.
When they halted in front of the cottage, Zoey let out a whoop. “We live here? It’s like a fairy tale!” She stared at the porch. “Who are they?”
On the steps perched four girls, their hair colors shading from light brown to nearly black. Along with the trio of thirteen-year-old Little Foxes, Jane recognized Suzy’s eight-year-old sister, Cindy. “It’s a welcome party. Minnie works fast.” Luke had mentioned their supermarket discussion.
“I don’t see when she had a chance to contact anyone. She was on her way to church, and it’s only eleven now,” he protested.
“Minnie may be eighty-nine, but she can use a cell phone with the best of us.” Plus, Jane thought in amusement, one should never underestimate the speed of the Harmony Circle grapevine.
Carly sprang up and began snapping pictures on her professional-quality camera. “You’re going to be a star on our Web site,” she told Zoey after introducing herself.
Her stepsister extended a plate of fresh-baked brownies. “I’m Brittany, and I made these for you.”
“Wow.” Eyes shining, Zoey selected a chocolate square. “Thanks.”
“I’m Suzy and my sister Cindy’s in third grade,” said the black-haired girl. “She’ll show you around school.”
“If you forget your lunch money, I can lend you some,” Cindy offered.
“Great!” The little girl spoke through a chewy mouthful.
Although Jane wished the girls had postponed their arrival until Zoey had a chance to unpack, their enthusiasm did a good job of melting the ice. Once Luke opened the door, they swarmed inside and set about arranging clothes and toys, chattering away at full volume. When Jane peered in, she saw Zoey standing on the bed directing the others like a miniature orchestra conductor.
She and Luke retreated. Judging by the giggles from the bedroom, nobody missed them.
“She’s outgoing, isn’t she?” Luke said as he arranged children’s books alongside his in the living room bookcase. “I was afraid moving around so much might have made her shy.”
“I guess she learned to fit in.” In a way, Jane envied the little girl’s confidence. After relocating from Ohio, she’d felt lost her first month at medical school. She’d suggested forming a study group as much to make friends as to get help, although the academic support had been valuable.
Luke rocked back on his heels. “I hope she won’t have problems adjusting to a new school. Her education’s really been hit or miss so far.”
Jane tried in vain to suppress a smile.
“What?” he demanded.
“I can’t believe this is the guy who used to wander into study sessions in pajama bottoms with his hair falling in his face.” She stretched her legs along the sofa, easing the soreness from yesterday’s walking. “You’ve taken over my job. Now you’re the one fussing like a mother hen.”
“In my case, father hen,” he corrected.
She feigned dismay. “Father hen? If you’re this confused about gender, I’m canceling your surgeries.”
His laughter echoed through the room. “Have you no respect for my brilliant skills?”
“I expected you to have more expertise with poultry, considering what a rooster you used to be,” she returned.
He sobered at that comment. “Was I really?”
“Girls used to cry on my shoulder,” she told him.
A crease formed between his eyebrows. “I hope you’re kidding.”
“Exaggerating, maybe.” She couldn’t resist adding, “You did tend to trade in girlfriends rather often.”
“I was in no place careerwise to tie myself down. I thought they understood that.” He’d apparently never imagined how much hurt he caused. “I figured once we stopped having fun together, my girlfriends would be happier if they found someone new.”
“That’s why you dumped them?”
“Yes. Why did you dump me?” he returned.
The question startled Jane. “Self-preservation,” she blurted.
“You thought I’d treat you the way I treated everyone else?” he asked.
“Wouldn’t you?”
Luke sank onto the floor and wrapped his arms around his knees. “No…well, maybe eventually. We had different goals, you’ll recall. But I didn’t see why we couldn’t just have a good time while it lasted.”
“For a man who’s had a lot of relationships, you sure don’t understand them,” Jane observed.
“Remember, I grew up in an all-male household,” he observed.
That raised an interesting question. “Why’d you become an ob-gyn? I mean, aside from saving lives, which is why we all became doctors.”
It wasn’t a high-paying specialty compared to radiology or plastic surgery, and obstetricians ran a higher risk of lawsuits than, say, dermatologists. In med school, Jane recalled him observing how much he enjoyed delivering babies, but that hardly seemed like the whole story.
Luke frowned. “I guess because I wanted to understand women.”
“And do you?” she probed.
“After delivering more babies than I can count, and counseling patients through pregnancies, menopause and serious illnesses…frankly, no,” he said with disarming honesty.
“Well, that’s straightforward,” Jane conceded. “But don’t you feel like you’re doing them a disservice? They rely on you for guidance.”
“I understand the medical issues,” Luke clarified. “I’ve done everything in my power to learn how aging, illness and childbirth affect women’s lives and what advice to offer. Focusing strictly on the patient makes it easy to be supportive, since my tastes and wishes don’t figure into it. That’s different from dating someone.”
Jane conceded the point. “I have to admit, you’ve developed into an outstanding physician. Everyone raved about you at your former practice.”
“You checked me out?”
“I have an obligation to my patients. Even if Sean does vouch for you.”
“Of course. I’d have done the same thing.” After dusting off his hands, he moved to the couch, so close that her bare feet grazed his thigh. Neither of them shifted away. “Why is it I feel more like myself with you than with anyone else? Your questions show me sides of my personality I’ve never taken the time to examine.”
This was getting too personal, so she framed her answer carefully. “Maintaining a strong connection to the women I treat makes me really think about how I’m affecting them,” Jane said. “Luke, high-power physicians and researchers do save lives, but often at the expense of understanding the impact they have on their patients as people.”
“That’s an interesting way of looking at it.” He glanced toward the bedroom, where they could hear the cheerful sound of children’s voices. “I think I’m going to learn more than I expected from working in a small practice.”
“You’ve
changed,” Jane conceded.
“Overdue, I guess. Considering what an insensitive slug I seem to have been in the old days,” Luke added on a lighter note.
“You certainly were.”
“Ouch.”
Jane searched for a bantering follow-up, but nothing came. She was too keenly aware of his strength coiled at her feet and of an almost physical ache to inhale his scent and run her hand across his chest.
As another burst of girlish chatter drew his attention toward the bedroom, he looked utterly contented and almost unbearably handsome. It struck Jane that she’d never found the right man because she’d always subconsciously compared everyone to Luke.
What a scary thought.
His head tilted toward her. “I feel like I’ve landed in a strange new world populated by charming female aliens. Thank goodness I have you as my translator and guide.”
“Happy to oblige.” Jane hoped he didn’t notice how breathless she sounded, still off balance from her realization.
“You know what you are?” he went on.
“Tell me.” That you want all those things you weren’t ready for, years ago. That you want them with me.
“You’re the sister I never had.”
Sister? Well, of course. What an idiot she’d been, to expect Luke to turn into a card-carrying romantic. Disgusted with herself and peeved at him, Jane lurched to her feet, only to discover that they’d gone numb. “Darn it!”
He hopped up and caught her arm. “Are you all right? I thought you might fall over.”
She extracted herself with a grimace. “Sore from traipsing around Anaheim yesterday,” she covered. “I need to get going.”
Disappointment clouded his gaze. “I hoped you’d stick around after our guests leave. You could bring your dog over. You did promise to introduce him to Zoey.”
“Later. I’m having dinner with friends tonight and I’ve got to cook.”
Luke quirked an eyebrow. “Would these friends be the Foxes?”
“The same.” Her feet prickling from the returning blood flow, Jane worked her way toward the door. “I’ll bring Stopgap to visit tomorrow. You can tell Zoey so she has something to look forward to if she starts feeling off-kilter.”
He accompanied her to the hallway. “I’ll do that.”
“See you at work.” Once the door clicked shut behind her, sheer nerves powered Jane home at a fast trot, and never mind how much her feet hurt.
What on earth had come over her, entertaining silly notions about her and Luke? He might have matured, but he was still a dangerous man to care about.
It was up to her and nobody else to make her dreams of family and children come true. The only question was—how?
She knew one thing for sure: whatever she decided, it wouldn’t involve the maddening doctor next door.
Chapter Seven
Jane scarcely heard the conversation that evening around Alice Watson’s dining room table. Usually she relished the lively discussions among the Foxes, but she couldn’t focus on the debate over whether Alice and her boyfriend, George, should book a Mediterranean cruise or take a trip to China.
Was it the approach of her birthday, only a couple of weeks off, that had her feeling as if the world might end if she didn’t come up with a dramatic plan for her future? Jane wondered. Perhaps she was overreacting to Luke’s remark about regarding her as a sister. Yet if she didn’t do something soon, she might dither along forever, childless and single.
She snapped to attention on hearing the word adoption. Tess Phipps, a divorce and family attorney, had just finished speaking.
“I’m sorry,” Jane said. “I missed what you said. Are you adopting a child?”
“Not me. My clients.” Tess fiddled with her bracelet. “I’m trying to transition from divorces to adoptions. I’m burned-out watching couples tear each other apart and destroy themselves financially. How anybody dares to get married is beyond me.”
Newlyweds Brooke and Sherry raised a friendly storm of protest. Each claimed she was happier than she’d dreamed possible.
Tess dismissed their arguments. “Neither of you has been married more than a year. You’re practically still on your honeymoons.”
“Many of my clients save their marriages, with a lot of hard work,” noted Cynthia Lieberman, a family counselor in her fifties.
The attorney’s face scrunched. “A few people get lucky. But not everyone.”
“Tess, where do your clients find children to adopt?” Jane asked. Around the table, faces turned toward her. Embarrassed, she realized her friends might think she was asking for personal reasons. “Just curious.”
“Most work with agencies, including some that are overseas. Others set up Web sites and Facebook pages to promote themselves to pregnant women,” Tess said. “There are adoption attorneys who run ads for babies, but I’m not sure I want to do that.”
The talk shifted to other subjects and eventually to the street’s newest residents, Luke and Zoey. The Foxes peppered Jane with questions about them, which she answered as briefly as possible. Discussing Luke felt like poking at a sore spot.
She was pleased when Maryam Hughes picked up the slack. “He and Zoey dropped by this afternoon to discuss day care. I’m going to watch her afternoons and on school holidays.”
“They visited us, too,” Sherry chimed in. “As his landlords, Luke thought we had a right to know about Zoey moving in. As if we’d mind! In fact, I volunteered to let her sleep over the nights when he’s on call.”
“It’s every Thursday, and occasionally on weekends,” Jane said. “Isn’t that inconvenient?”
“It’ll be fun. The kids will enjoy having a new playmate.”
Luke had certainly worked out his schedule fast, she mused. She ought to feel relieved that he wouldn’t be depending on her for everything. Instead, disappointment squeezed her stomach.
Jane set down her fork, although she’d scarcely touched her lasagna or her garlic bread. Although she didn’t want him to lean on her, it hurt to discover how easily she could be replaced.
For the first time since she’d joined the Foxes, she could scarcely wait for the evening to end. When at last she escaped, however, she found Brooke right on her heels.
“You forgot this.” On the walkway in front of Alice’s house, her friend held out Jane’s bowl.
“Oh. Thanks.” She noted with satisfaction that her friends had eaten almost all of her salad.
Brooke crossed the street beside her. “What’s going on?”
“Sorry?”
“You’re jumpy. Usually you’re the calmest person I know.”
Although tempted to skirt the topic, Jane opted for honesty. After all, Brooke was one of her best friends. Besides, Jane had never been good at playing her cards close to her chest. “Luke said he views me as a sister.”
“So?” Brooke asked. “I thought you considered him a bit of a Romeo, anyway.”
“It’s just…insulting,” Jane grumbled.
They halted in front of Brooke’s house. “It could be worse. He could have compared you to his mother.”
Jane had to chuckle. “I suppose that would be worse.”
Never one to shrink from touchy subjects, her friend continued, “So you’re thinking about adopting?”
Jane wished she hadn’t opened her big mouth during dinner. “No.”
“But—” Brooke prompted.
“Why do you assume there’s a ‘but’?”
“Because I know you.”
Jane sighed. “I guess it’s time to quit hoping Mr. Right will appear. I’ll call the clinic tomorrow and make an appointment.”
“Good. Your birthday’s a week from next Friday, right? Unless you already have plans, I’m taking you out for dinner,” Brooke said. “Hey! Wouldn’t it be great if you’re expecting by then?”
What a wildly optimistic timetable. Brooke, who’d become pregnant with Marlene by accident, had no idea how these treatments worked. “It’ll be several we
eks before I can even start trying,” Jane explained. “I’d have to take a fertility medication to improve my chances of conceiving.”
Brooke sighed. “Too bad.” She perked up quickly. “About that birthday dinner. Is it okay if Renée comes, too?”
“Sure.” The three of them would have a great time.
“Good. I’ll invite her.”
As they said good-night, Jane reflected how lucky she was to have such a terrific friend. She could never stay down in the dumps for long around Brooke.
WITH JANE PERFORMING her scheduled surgeries on Wednesday morning, Luke barely got a chance to catch his breath at the office. In addition to seeing a full load of patients, he consulted with the physicians’ assistant on a case and answered several lengthy phoned-in questions from patients. He rushed around so much that, in the hallway, he kept bumping into receptionist Edda Jonas, who had a gift for appearing where he least expected her.
He figured the mishaps must be his fault until his nurse, Pam, remarked in a dry tone, “You realize she’s gaga in love with you.”
“Edda?” he asked in amazement. “She can’t be more than twenty-one.”
“She’s twenty-four,” Pam corrected gently. “But never mind that. She treated Dr. Sawyer the same way when she was first hired, but she got over it.”
“Let’s hope so.” Judging by Jane’s remarks, Luke gathered he’d hurt some feelings at med school. That had been different, since it involved women he was dating, but he didn’t intend to repeat that mistake even at a distance. “By the way, I wanted to ask you something. Is an hour a night too much homework for a second-grader?” Being the mother to three school-age youngsters made Pam an expert in his view.
“That depends,” she said. “I assume that, coming from another school, Zoey has some catching up to do.”
“Her reading’s advanced, but in other areas she’s behind.” He could see how overwhelmed Pauline had been—or how careless—in home-schooling Zoey in first grade. Two moves during this school year hadn’t helped, either.
“She’ll pull it off.” Pam winked. “She’s got a smart father to help her.”
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