The Baby Doctor's Bride

by Jessica Matthews

  As an added bonus, perhaps he could get the attractive Ivy Harris out of his head. His fiancée had been every bit as beautiful, but he’d soon learned that beauty usually only went skin deep.

  She cleared her throat, bringing him back to the present. “No,” she admitted. “Although I want to be sure you won’t fill in for a day and quit the next because you changed your mind.”

  “I finish what I start. If I agree to help you for three weeks, then I won’t leave you high and dry.” His former colleagues at the children’s hospital could attest to that. Once he’d tendered his resignation in St. Louis, he could have walked away, but through sheer force of will he’d struggled through another month until a replacement could be found.

  She fell silent, apparently digesting his information. “OK. When can you start?”

  “Whenever you like.”

  She laughed, the lighthearted sound easing the residual tightness in his chest that hadn’t left him since the day his son had died. “I’d say immediately, but tomorrow is soon enough.”

  “Tomorrow it is,” he said. “But I have a few conditions.”

  A long-suffering expression flitted across her face, as if she half expected him to list requirements she couldn’t possibly meet. “Something tells me I need to sit down to hear this,” she said wryly as she did exactly that. “OK. Give me your terms.”

  “First of all, I’ll earn the same salary you do and pay the same expenses.”

  She blinked twice owlishly, as if he’d surprised her—which he probably had. “That isn’t what I initially offered you.”

  “As I said earlier, I don’t take advantage of a colleague. Especially one who’s starting out.”

  “Thanks.” She sounded dubious, as if she were afraid he’d spring something worse on her.

  He did. “Second, I won’t treat babies.”

  “None at all?”

  “Infants aren’t my forte,” he said flatly. “I’ll take on all the school-age kids and adolescents who walk through the door, but anyone under the age of three is yours to deal with.”

  She opened her mouth as if to argue, then simply nodded, as if she’d decided she could live with that particular stipulation. In a town without obstetrical services there couldn’t be more babies, especially newborns, than she could handle on her own.

  “OK,” she said calmly. “Anything else?”

  “Isn’t that enough?”

  Her face warmed. “I’d say so. But at this point I can’t afford to be choosy. I appreciate anything and everything you’re willing to do.” She rose. “I’m usually here by seven-thirty most mornings, and our first patients are scheduled for nine.”

  “What about referrals?”

  “I send any child who needs a specialist north to Wichita or south to Oklahoma City,” she continued, “depending on the parents’ preference and insurance requirements. My goal is to bring in a pediatric endocrinologist and allergist once a month for scheduled appointments, but with everything that’s happened I haven’t had a chance to organize the clinics. Walt and I have other plans we hope to implement, but, as they say, Rome wasn’t built in a day.” Her smile was rueful.

  Ethan saw the enthusiasm, the confidence, the full-steam-ahead attitude he’d seen in every new board-certified physician. Faith in one’s skills and the miracles of modern medicine made a man, or a woman, feel invincible and ready to conquer the world. For an instant he wanted to advise her to enjoy that feeling, because she’d lose it soon enough.

  Idly, he wondered if he’d made a huge mistake by coming here. Seeing Ivy Harris every day would be like looking in a mirror, reminding him of what he’d once been like and showing him what he was now. A jaded physician didn’t pair well with an eager, idealistic one, but he’d already committed himself and he couldn’t back out now. Not because he cared about Ivy’s opinion, but because keeping his word was a matter of family honor. He might be the only Locke left, but his personal integrity was something he intended to hold on to with both hands.

  “In the meantime,” Ivy continued, “if you have a patient who needs a referral, check with Heather, my nurse, or Billie, our receptionist.”

  “You only have one nurse?”

  “At the moment. But don’t worry. I’ll find another RN. They aren’t as difficult to come by as doctors,” she tacked on wryly. “If you’d like, I can show you around now, or we can wait until morning.”

  “Don’t you have a hundred and one things to do before you can call it a day?” He turned her own words against her, although he found himself unwilling to leave for reasons he didn’t quite understand.

  She smiled tiredly. “Yeah, but it won’t take long to give the nickel tour. We can start—” Her cellphone rang and she glanced at the caller ID display. “This might take a few minutes. Feel free to wander around on your own.”

  Ethan sauntered past the receptionist’s desk as he ignored Ivy’s one-sided conversation. He stepped into the first patient room and saw the required glass canisters of cotton balls, cotton-tipped applicator sticks and tongue depressors standing on the counter, next to an otoscope to look into the ear canal. A biohazard container for needles and syringes hung on the wall.

  Inside the cabinets and drawers he found the odd assortment of other necessities, including facial tissues, blood pressure cuffs in different sizes for little arms, as well as various kits and irrigation solutions. As far as he could tell Ivy had stocked her office with everything a general pediatrician might need, probably to avoid sending her patients on a lengthy drive elsewhere.

  He sensed Ivy’s presence at the door before she uttered a word. Turning, he saw the slight frown on her face.

  “Problems?” he asked.

  She nodded. “I have to go. There’s been an accident. A truck collided with a van carrying six children, ages nine months to eight years old.”

  It would be daunting to treat that many cases at once, especially if those six were critical. Clearly Jed wouldn’t be much help, because he’d have his hands full with the adults involved.

  All afternoon he’d convinced himself he’d do nothing more than swab sore throats, peer into achy ears and listen to a few asthmatic lungs. Unfortunately fate had thrown another curve ball at him. No doubt Stewart would laugh his fool head off if he knew the situation Ethan had landed in without warning.

  She waited silently, but he saw the unspoken plea in her eyes. The way he saw it, he had three options. He could ignore her silent request and simply say goodbye—an option which appealed mightily because he technically wasn’t on duty until tomorrow; he could do nothing—in which case she’d probably beg; or he could put his plans for dinner and a quiet evening at home aside and volunteer.

  Some choices. Two would make him a heartless jerk and one would ruin the rest of his already ruined day. Having decided to fill in out of guilt, he might as well get started, he decided reluctantly, although it had been a while since he’d used his general pediatric skills. Still, he had an advantage: unlike the pre-term neonates he’d treated, the children he’d work with now could point him in the right direction.

  “Would you like me to assist?” he asked, hoping she’d refuse.

  She positively beamed, and took a step forward. For a moment she wore such a supreme look of relief that he thought she might kiss him.

  He wouldn’t have minded. In fact, just the possibility of feeling her lips against his sent blood rushing through his body. Geesh, having such a strong physical reaction on the basis of merely thinking about a kiss plainly indicated he’d been alone for too long.

  Yet, physical attraction or not, he didn’t have any business letting his imagination run away from him. He carried too much emotional baggage right now to consider any sort of relationship, even a platonic one.

  Instead of kissing him, as he’d both feared and anticipated, she grabbed his hand and squeezed gently. “Oh, thank you. I’d love it if you would. Mind you, if it’s all minor stuff you can leave, but it would be great to have
you nearby. Just in case things get complicated.”

  It already was, he thought wryly, deciding her touch could easily become addictive. She was warm and vibrant, in a world which had been cold and colorless, but rather than allow himself the luxury of enjoying it to the fullest he mentally distanced himself at the same time as he abruptly extricated his hand from hers. Emotionally entangling himself with a pretty woman who’d want more from him than he could possibly give was a prescription for more heartache. He’d seen the light in one woman’s eyes fade into accusation and disgust. He wasn’t about to experience that again.

  “Then shall we go?” he asked, his voice impersonal.

  Her face turned a rosy hue, as if she recognized his brush-off. “Yes,” she said, her tone several degrees chillier than it had been before. “We should.”

  As he followed her down the hallway that connected their clinic to the hospital, he noticed her demeanor toward him had turned from warm-hearted to strictly professional. Yet when she called a fellow named Ted she went back to being congenial and bubbly again. Clearly she’d chosen to save her friendly overtures for someone who wanted them, which was perfectly fine with him.

  Yes, it was best for everyone concerned if they kept their relationship on a businesslike footing during the few weeks they were together. But, while it was the logical thing to do, he couldn’t deny the sense of loss that swept through him.

  With one phone call to Ted Burns, the hospital’s CEO, Ivy had gotten Ethan consultant status so he could begin treating patients.

  “It’s all set,” she said, as soon as she’d slipped her cellphone into her pocket. “You have temporary privileges with final approval contingent on you coming in tomorrow to show your credentials and sign the necessary paperwork.”

  “So soon? I’m impressed.”

  His surprise grated on her nerves. It was as if he hadn’t expected anyone in town to be efficient. “We don’t all work at Lew’s speeds of slow and slower yet,” she said smartly.

  He raised an eyebrow. “I’m glad to hear it.”

  No, she decided with some disappointment, Ethan Locke wouldn’t win the Friendliest Doctor of the Year award. Wariest, perhaps, or Gruffest, or Most Reluctant, or even Most Mysterious—but Friendliest? Not a chance.

  But what did it matter if he frowned all day long, never spoke more than a few words and kept to himself? As long as he was kind to the patients and proved himself competent she would be one happy doctor.

  Yet, regardless of how she’d characterized him, she also knew that people were a product of their experiences. What had made Ethan Locke so determined to isolate himself?

  Whatever his reasons, she could either respond in kind or treat him as she did everyone else. The choice was easy to the point that it wasn’t a choice at all.

  She bestowed one of her usual smiles on him as she led the way toward a cart near the ambulance bay that held protective gear. “We’re not as hung up on bureaucracy as other places, and we’re more flexible, but don’t forget to see Ted first thing in the morning. He’ll bend what can be bent, but only so far.”

  “See Ted first. Got it.”

  As Ivy shrugged on the familiar yellow gown, vinyl gloves and face shield, she noticed Ethan doing the same. “We’ll wait out—”

  Nancy Martinez, the middle-aged nurse who was in charge of the department, approached at a near-run. “I just heard. ETA of the ambulance is three minutes. We’re getting the Ellerbe twins.”

  Ivy’s heart sank. The twins were nine months old and their parents’ pride and joy. “Marybeth?”

  “She was driving,” Nancy said, her forehead furrowed with concern. “Apparently she’d taken the kids in her daycare to Wichita Zoo today, and was coming home when a truck ran a stop sign and plowed into her. Luckily she’d already delivered several of the kids at their homes before it happened, otherwise we’d have three more patients.”

  “I assume you know the family?” Ethan asked.

  “I grew up with Marybeth’s husband and I know his mother quite well. By the way, Ethan, this is Nancy, our E.R. charge nurse. She’s worked here for years, and knows everything there is to know about the hospital. So if there’s anything you need, she’s your go-to person.” She turned to Nancy. “This is Dr. Ethan Locke. He’s helping us out temporarily.”

  An ambulance siren wailed in the distance. “Come on,” she said. “We’re being paged.”

  The heat, coupled with her protective gear, blasted her after being in the air-conditioned facility. Almost immediately a host of other staff members materialized to surround them.

  “Everybody!” Ivy called out to the assembled group as the ambulance approached the loading dock. “This is Dr. Ethan Locke, and he will be helping us for the next few weeks. He’s a pediatrician and he comes highly recommended.”

  Actually, she didn’t have any recommendations about him at all, other than Lew’s observation that he’d been a physician at the prestigious children’s hospital in St. Louis. He could be a doctor who couldn’t hack the job, but her instincts said that wasn’t the case. He had too much intelligence shining out of his eyes that no amount of cynicism and rudeness could disguise. Her biggest consolation lay in Nancy, who knew her stuff and would alert Ivy if his decisions were questionable.

  Having done all she could to stack the odds in the victims’ favor, she riveted her attention on the emergency vehicle. Even with the back doors closed she heard the babies’ cries.

  She glanced at Ethan, and was surprised by his stone-faced demeanor and grim expression, but she couldn’t ponder the reasons for it now.

  Before the vehicle edged to a complete stop, she drew a bracing breath and yanked open the doors. Inside were two babies strapped into their infant seats, kicking and screaming in stereo, two older children—girls about five and six—who were doing their best to console the inconsolable babies, and a sandy-haired boy about seven years old, strapped to a backboard and sporting a c-spine collar, an IV line, a mask and a tank of oxygen between his legs.

  “Packed house,” Ivy commented to the paramedic over the frightened wail of the babies. “What do you have?”

  “One with abdominal injuries and four ambulatory—if you consider a car seat being ambulatory,” Ben Kovacs, the paramedic, reported. “I gave those two a preliminary once-over.” He motioned to the little noise-makers. “From their volume, I think they’re more scared than hurt, so I left them in their car seats for easy transport.”

  “Crying is good. I’d be more worried if they weren’t making a sound.” Ethan had stationed himself near the boy’s gurney, but Ivy knew they couldn’t move the stretcher until the littlest ones were out of the way. Ben had truly packed the victims inside.

  “They’ve only stopped long enough to take a breath and catch their second wind,” Ben said wryly. “I figured you could check them out more thoroughly to make sure they were OK.”

  Ivy handed one carrier to Ethan before she reached for the other, noticing the huge tears clinging to soggy eyelashes, the red screwed-up faces and runny noses. By the time she’d handed the other infant to waiting nurses Ethan had already passed his bundle to someone else. He’d obviously hadn’t taken time to give the baby more than a passing glance, if that.

  “Put them in Room One and I’ll be there in a minute,” Ivy directed, and she waved the older girls forward out of the corner where Ben had squeezed them.

  “Suzy and Emma only have bumps and bruises,” Ben reported, his attention focused on the boy in front of him. “They could have waited, but I thought they should get away from the scene as soon as possible. Some things a kid shouldn’t see,” he finished in a low voice.

  Ivy’s imagination filled in the blanks. “Come on, girls. Let’s go where I can make sure you’re okay, too.” Grabbing their hands, she helped them hop off the back bumper into the care of a young certified nurses’ aide, Robyn.

  With the extraneous people out of the way, Ben released the latch holding the gurney in place. Betwe
en the three of them they pulled the stretcher out of the emergency vehicle and snapped the wheels in place before rolling their patient inside. Through it all, Ben gave his report.

  “Tommy, here, is the worst. He was sitting behind the driver on the same side of the van where the truck plowed into them. BP is low, pulse is rapid.” Ben rattled off the numbers.

  “I’ll look after him,” Ethan told Ivy as he helped guide the gurney into the trauma room. “You take care of the rest.”

  Ivy hesitated. “Are you sure?”

  “You’re the one in charge of babies,” he reminded her.

  “OK.” Yet she found herself unable to leave. Not because she didn’t trust him—OK, maybe she had a few doubts—but mainly because she felt as if she were throwing him to the wolves by asking him to handle a trauma in a place where he’d never stepped foot until now.

  For the first time since she’d accepted his offer she wondered if she’d made the right decision to bring in a relative unknown.

  “Do you know how old he is?” she heard Ethan ask Ben.

  “He’s seven.”

  One advantage to a small community was that everyone knew everyone, which worked out nicely during times like these. Someday she’d know everyone in town by sight, too, but she’d been gone for years and hadn’t been back nearly long enough to have that ability today.

  Ethan leaned over the moving gurney as he lightly gripped the boy’s hand. “Hi, Tommy. I’m Ethan, and we’re going to make you feel better soon.”

  He sniffled. “I want…my mommy,” he sobbed.

  “I know,” Ethan soothed. “We’re going to get your parents here as soon as we can. Can you tell me where you hurt?”