On another note, something new has cropped up in school. Meghan’s science class is studying genetics and genealogy and she is suddenly bursting with questions about her birth parents. Would it be okay for us to tell her a bit more about you? We understand that you never named the father, but if there is any information whatsoever you can provide, we’d appreciate it.
As always, Daryl and I are so grateful to you for your unselfish act and want you to know we treat our daughter as the precious gift she is. We pray that life is treating you well.
All the best,
The Williams
The last part of the letter went blurry. Had it been an unselfish act? Could giving her daughter away to strangers in an open adoption be considered anything less than an easy way out for a frightened seventeen-year-old? Sure, they had been well screened, willing and anxious to become parents, but they’d solved her “problem” and life had never been the same since.
She glanced again at the school picture, and choked back her tears.
The door flew open behind her. “Apparently only the nurses keep fresh coffee in the pot,” Beck said.
Jan startled, dropping the letter, and the picture went flying through the air to the floor. She scrambled to reach it before Beck could see, but he was just as quick.
She leaned. He knelt. They almost bumped heads. They looked into each other’s eyes. Fear of being found out sent a rocket fueled with adrenaline through her chest. His hand rested on top of hers on the picture on the floor.
CHAPTER TWO
“SO HOW’VE you been, January?” Beck asked, glancing up from the overturned picture on the floor and staring deep into her eyes.
Jan glanced into Beck’s challenging glare and willed herself not to shake. She swallowed a hard lump and narrowed her gaze, then reverted to old, well-practiced techniques of evasion.
“I’ve been fantastical, Beck. And you?” She gingerly retrieved the photograph of her daughter from the floor and slipped it back inside her pocket before he had a chance to see it.
“Outstanding. I’ve been outstanding.”
Was his point to let her know how well he’d gotten along in life without her? To point out that leaving her behind and joining the army had made him “all that he could be” like the ad on the military poster said? Or was he lying through his teeth, like she was?
He seemed on the verge of saying something more.
Before Jan could begin to decipher the multitude of expressions in his eyes, Carmen appeared in the doorway.
“Here you are. I’ve got good news,” she said, looking toward Beck. “Gavin has arranged for you to scrub in with the gunshot wound. You’d better high-tail it up there before anyone changes their mind.”
“Fantastical,” he said, slanting a glance Jan’s way. A grim look that promised they hadn’t even begun to broach the subject foremost on their minds. Then Beck swept out of the tiny room without looking back, leaving a gust of air that seemed to strangle her instead of offer relief.
Carmen leaned against the door frame, cocking a brow. “Did he just say ‘fantastical’?”
Jan nodded solemnly.
“He’s kind of cute, don’t you think?” Carmen continued.
“I hadn’t noticed.”
“Then those glasses are the wrong prescription. Did I interrupt something?”
“Not at all. He was just looking for a decent cup of coffee, and, being a smart guy, knew to come to the nurses’ lounge.” She feigned a carefree smile, gathered her letter and lunch items and hustled back to work.
The next day, her guilty conscience wouldn’t let her call in sick to work. Sure, her nose was congested, but she wasn’t running a fever and she could sneeze into the crook of her elbow on the job if needed. If her condition warranted it, she’d don a mask. But knowing the glut of emergencies on weekends, not to mention the people without health insurance who used the ED as their doctor’s office on their days off, she couldn’t leave Carmen short a nurse for a shift.
She’d tried all night long not to recall the challenge in Beck’s glare when he’d asked how she’d been. Not answering his calls and letters when he’d shipped out for bootcamp had been the second-hardest thing she’d ever had to do. Even with her heart aching for the boy she’d loved since tenth grade, nothing had compared with the pain of giving up their child for adoption.
That was all in the past now. They were grown-ups with careers and personal commitments. She assumed Beck had responsibilities, being both a medic in the National Guard and on the SWAT team. She could only imagine the different countries he’d been sent to in the last thirteen years, and she’d never even ventured out of California.
She hadn’t noticed a wedding ring on his hand when he’d reached for the picture in the nurses’ lounge. Why did that somehow garner a feeling of relief?
Jan shook her head, popped a twelve-hour antihistamine, and dressed for work.
On the drive to Mercy Hospital, she turned on the radio and heard the two o’clock news. There had been a car chase which had turned into a hostage situation and from there escalated into a stand-off in an apartment building in the Wilshire area of Los Angeles. Her mind shot to Beck. Would he be called in with the SWAT team to handle this explosive situation? Anxiety welled up, as if a tight squeezing harness was wrapped around her chest, with the knowledge he could be in harm’s way. But that was the life he’d chosen for himself, and he was no longer her business.
When she arrived at work to an already hopping emergency department, there was no sign of Beck. She pondered the hostage situation and Beck’s possible involvement. The thought that he was otherwise engaged and that she might not have to face him in the ER that night didn’t soothe her mounted concern in the least.
A wild and crazy Saturday night in the emergency department had postponed Jan’s meal break until nine p.m. The inundated ER felt stifling and she went outside for fresh air. She found a secluded bench and was unwrapping her sandwich for dinner when the loud rumble of a motorcycle rolling into the parking lot broke the silence. The rider gave one last rev of the engine, parked, and threw his leg over the machine as if he were a wrangler, a helmet in place of a cowboy hat.
The leather jacket and the swagger unmistakably belonged to Beck. Apparently he still preferred motorcycles to cars. What was he doing here? She hadn’t had time to catch the news and didn’t know whether the earlier incident had been resolved or not but, even so, why would he report to the ED after such an intense afternoon and evening?
A quick flash of the undaunted guy she’d once dated appeared before her. He’d been pegged as a troublemaker since grammar school and had never lived his reputation down. He’d played along and acted the role of bad boy all through high school, but Jan had known the softer, more playful side of him. They’d laughed together just as much as they’d kissed or argued. She’d never understood why he’d let people think so little of him, expecting the worse and assuming when anything had gone wrong that he’d been at the core of it.
They’d met in an open-grade art class when she had been a sophomore and he a junior, and had bonded over painting delicate eggshells. He’d helped her pass algebra and walked her through her science experiments whenever she’d been confused. He’d been the guy to hold her until her tears had dried after her dog got hit by a car. No one else had seemed to see the noble and tender side of Beck but her…back then.
She sighed and suddenly lost her appetite. It had hurt like hell to break up with him all those years ago. And what must he have thought of her for the cowardly way she’d done it?
By the time her meal break was up, Beck had already donned scrubs and was tending to a laceration in one of the emergency exam rooms. She tiptoed by, only to be snagged by Carmen.
“We’ve got a DUI in transit. The guy wrapped his car around a telephone pole and partially scalped himself. Gavin wants Beck to stitch him up, so get a minor operations kit and meet him in the procedure room pronto.”
Jan nodded, wis
hing they’d assign Beck to someone else, but she needed to accept there’d be no getting away from the ex-love of her life for the next month.
In a world where justice had a way of weaseling its way in at the most inconvenient times, she knew this would be her punishment for lying to him.
Fifteen minutes later Jan cleaned the wound. She flushed the patient’s skin with copious amounts of saline followed by antiseptic solution then patted it dry with sterile towels. The majority of the patient’s hair was intact. A full head of brown hair had been partially severed from the forehead back, looking like a floppy, cheap toupee. She’d never seen anything like it before outside old cowboy and Indian movies.
Jan dabbed at the last few trickles of blood as Beck injected a local anesthetic along the forehead and waited for it to take effect. She avoided his eyes as much as possible after his initial raised brow and shake of the head when first examining the wound. But occasionally their gazes met. Each and every time small explosions of adrenaline made her tremble. She prayed he couldn’t tell.
Jan had to admit Beck was a skilled clinician. But even with his expert suturing, the patient would have a thin white scar along his hairline for the rest of his life to remind him of his bonehead decision to drive while drunk.
Fortunately, the patient was still inebriated enough not to mind having his scalp sewn back onto his head. Thankful for the mask she’d opted to wear to protect the patient against her cold, she didn’t have to breathe in his liquor fumes first hand.
Beck concentrated, using a curved needle in a holder and toothed forceps to help insert the needle through the thick skin and out again. He made even stitches with fine braided silk, taking meticulous care to fit the jigsaw pattern of the “scalping” together. He’d divided the wound into manageable lengths, placing a suture at the halfway and quarter points to avoid “dog-ears”—unequal bites of tissue that would heal with gaps. Even without the help of the plastics department, the patient stood a good shot of healing with minimal visible scarring—as long as his hairline didn’t recede.
Once the tedious procedure of what seemed no less than fifty stitches concluded, Beck dropped the needles into the sharps container on the wall and, gathering the remaining instruments, helped Jan clean up.
“I can do this,” she said, dismissing his efforts.
“Just trying to help, January.” He wadded up the betadine-stained blue paper barrier and tossed it, like a basketball, into the nearby trash can. It landed perfectly, and Beck stared at Jan with deep-set penetrating eyes that almost made her knees buckle.
He’d matured and grown into a formidably handsome man. Muscle had thickened and replaced the lanky limbs of his youth. With his hair nearly completely shaved, his features seemed all the more chiseled and striking. The old trace of a furrowed brow had settled more deeply into the map of his forehead. Lightly etched squint lines hinted at the many sights he’d seen since his departure from her life.
He’d once had thick wavy dark hair and he’d worn it styled and gelled to perfection. He’d warn her not to mess with his do and she’d complain about how he always managed to ruin her hairstyle and then she’d run her fingers through his hair just to spite him. Typical of high-school students, they’d end their silly challenges and arguments by glaring at one another, calling each other a name, and rushing into a smoldering make-up kiss.
He’d changed dramatically, and, if possible, for the better. His sexy appeal sent chills undulating through her body. How would she survive the next month?
Deep in myriad thoughts, she spun round and bumped Beck with the kidney basin filled with antiseptic. Some spilled over the brim, splattering onto his scrub top. He held her wrists to steady her hands and she panicked.
“I told you I don’t need your help. This wouldn’t have happened if you’d just let things be,” she said, clenching her jaw.
He pried her fingers free of the basin, all the while keeping eye contact, then dipped his gloved fingertips into the solution and flicked it at close range onto her scrub top. Jerk. He strolled to the sink and poured the rest of the liquid down the drain.
“Now we’re even, January,” he said in a familiar taunting whisper. If it were only that simple. He seemed to seethe whenever he looked at her. Could she blame him?
The inebriated patient lay snoozing, oblivious to his surroundings.
The look in Beck’s eyes dared her to challenge him. He may have over a decade’s worth of questions for her, but she couldn’t allow him to become familiar with her again. There was too much at stake. She’d endured the pain alone for years and could think of no good reason to share it with him. He’d only hate her more.
“Call me Jan, please. And I’d appreciate it if you’d keep our past out of this place. No one needs to know about us.”
One brow rose slowly and he nodded, the hazel gaze muted by a cautious veil. “Still worried about your reputation, I see,” he said, before turning and leaving the room.
The patient snored and Jan wanted to scream. After thirteen years of hiding from her past, doing everything she could to respect her decision instead of loathing herself, it had finally caught up with her. Sheer reflex made her want to run into the night. But she’d prided herself in growing up and facing the toughest parts of her life head on. If spending the next month working with the father of her child—the baby she’d given up for adoption—was the price she would have to pay, she’d pay it. And at the end she’d try to do what she’d done for years—forget and move on.
* * *
Beck had seen men die before his eyes. He’d lived by his wits and survived close call after close call in battles across the globe. He’d defied his parents, who’d always thought he was too hard to handle, he’d proved his high-school principal wrong with his predictions of incarceration. Now Beck was one of the “good” guys. And where had it gotten him?
Hell, he’d given up the one person he’d ever loved for the sake of his quest for adventure. Breaking free of Atwater had meant that much to him. Nothing, he’d sworn, would hold him back from grabbing life by the tail and holding on for a wild ride. Except the “wild ride” had included pain and suffering and memories he wished to God he could get out of his head.
After all of that, how could the simple task of brushing up his medic skills throw him for such a loop?
Beck knew the reason. The task involved being near the one person who’d taught him the purest and most honest feeling he could ever hope to experience. Love. Of course, she’d been the one to rip that same feeling out of his chest and ruin it for the rest of his life. No other woman had ever gotten to know that vulnerable secret part of his soul since January Stewart. It had ruined more than his share of otherwise satisfying relationships, too.
January had ripped away any chance of trusting a woman that much again when she’d refused to wait for him. When she’d coldly broken off their relationship over the phone, and only then after he’d tried to track her down through some friends. At first he’d thought she was paying him back for leaving her and joining the army, but her decision to break up with him had gone beyond stubborn resolve or hurt. He’d never been able to pinpoint what the missing piece of the puzzle was, but in his gut he knew there was something more to their break-up. He’d given up guessing what long ago.
Beck shook his head. The new version of his first love stood right inside the Mercy Hospital emergency ward and the thought made his blood boil. She’d screwed him up beyond all recognition when she’d dumped him. He’d spent three months dreaming about her in bootcamp. Sometimes the hell he’d had to endure in training had only been bearable because of her face smiling at him in his mind. Her soft lips had teased him, “Don’t be a wuss. You can do it.” The flood of memories that her presence had released just now in the exam room was almost more than he could bear. Good thing he had been wearing gloves when he held her wrists. He wasn’t sure how he’d have reacted if they’d been skin to skin.
He shook his head and smiled ruef
ully. He didn’t care that she still affected him. It didn’t matter that whatever it was that had once appealed to him hadn’t faded. Her allure had only grown stronger. He wouldn’t fall for it. Never again. He’d never forgive or trust her again.
A familiar phrase his drill sergeant had repeated over and over popped into his brain, “Don’t get mad. Get even.”
Hmm. Was revenge as sweet as everyone stacked it up to be?
Beck looked up from his thoughts in time to see Gavin Riordan approaching. “Hey, great job tonight.”
“Thanks.”
“So what happened with that car chase today?”
“It’s a long story,” Beck said, scratching the back of his neck.
“The shift’s over. Why don’t you let me buy you a drink and you can tell me about it?”
Gavin was bending over backwards to help Beck avoid losing time off the job by flying back to North Carolina for his medic update. How could he refuse his request? And after his recent encounter with January, he could definitely use a drink.
“Sure thing. Where’re we going?”
“The Emergency Room.”
Jan folded her OR gown and pushed it into the dirty clothes hamper. She sat on the bench and untied her shoelaces as Carmen entered the nurses’ locker room.
“Hey, Jan. After all this nonstop action tonight, I’m having a hard time unwinding. You want to get a drink with me?”
“Nah. I’m coming down with a cold.”
Temporary Doctor, Surprise Father Page 3
