The Baby Doctor's Bride

by Jessica Matthews

  She hurried home, which wasn’t difficult because her house stood a mere block away. By the time she’d finished her shower, dressed in clean, crisp trousers and a cotton shirt, fixed her hair and slapped on the tiniest bit of make-up, she felt like a new woman. Although she intended to scold Ethan for disobeying her orders, she had to admit those hours of sleep had been life-saving. She shuddered to think what shape she’d be in today if he hadn’t taken matters into his own hands.

  To show her appreciation, she stopped by the grocery store on the way to work. By the time she arrived in her offices at the Danton Medical Clinic, her staff had all arrived, with their curiosities aroused.

  “Sounds like you had an interesting evening after we went home.” Heather’s eyes twinkled. “I’m crushed you didn’t call me.”

  “Sorry, but we barely had time to eat. It was one of those nights. Again.” She explained about David Grayson.

  “Yeah, well, tonight’s the last night of the full moon, so maybe things will slow down around here.”

  “Let’s hope,” Ivy replied fervently. “In the meantime, we’re going to make a few staff adjustments to accommodate our new physician. He doesn’t want to treat babies, so keep that in mind when talking to parents. Funnel the older kids in his direction.” She truly didn’t believe any of the parents would balk at Ethan examining their children. After all, he’d already made a name for himself last night, and she hadn’t been in town long enough to build up any real patient loyalty.

  Ten minutes and two phone calls later, it was decided. A retired nurse from the hospital had agreed to help Ivy for a few weeks, while Heather would work with Ethan because she was experienced in the office procedures. Luckily the treatment rooms lined both sides of an L-shaped corridor, so he could use the cubicles on the right while Ivy commandeered the ones on the left. The arrangement might create a traffic jam at times, but it seemed like a minor inconvenience in comparison to working extra-long hours.

  The receptionist and the billing clerk both disappeared into their offices as the phones began to ring. Heather, however, didn’t leave.

  “I want the full story, not the condensed version,” the nurse warned. “After what happened last night, why do you look so good this morning after not getting any sleep? Could there be a little romantic interest simmering between the two of you?”

  Ivy’s skin warmed, as she wondered if her friend had suddenly developed an ability to read minds, but just because Ivy found him attractive underneath his brusque manner, it didn’t mean she planned to act on it. “Don’t be ridiculous. If I look better than usual it’s because I dozed off in the lounge and Dr. Locke didn’t wake me when he was supposed to,” she grumbled, still torn between being angry or being grateful.

  Heather snickered. “You’re just unhappy because he knew what you needed and did something about it on his own, without asking your permission. Gracious, girl. You ought to be thanking your lucky stars he was so thoughtful. As for scolding him, I’d rethink that plan if I were you. If he was able to help that much in one evening, we’d be foolish to do anything that might send him back to his cabin hideaway.”

  As convinced as Ivy was that he would honor his word, she didn’t want to test it. “Give me a little credit for having common sense,” she said wryly. “When a gift drops into my lap, I’m not going to complain about the wrapping paper.”

  Heather’s eyes sparkled. “He does make a pretty fine package, wouldn’t you agree?”

  Ivy avoided her friend’s gaze. Admitting she was wildly attracted to the taciturn Ethan Locke would only plant ideas in Heather’s head. After being her friend for years, Heather didn’t need any help in that regard. “I haven’t noticed.”

  “Come now,” Heather scoffed. “He—”

  “He’ll be here any minute,” Ivy interrupted. “So make a pot of this, will you?” She thrust her small bag at Heather.

  The nurse peered inside. “French vanilla?” She studied Ivy with curiosity. “Trying to impress the big city doctor?”

  “I doubt if he’ll be bowled over by something as common as French vanilla,” Ivy said dryly. “But he likes gourmet coffees, and this was the only one in the grocery store. I thought it would be a nice ‘welcome to the office’ gesture.”

  “Good plan. Too bad you didn’t bring doughnuts, too.”

  “Let’s not go overboard,” Ivy said. “I haven’t been around him much, but he’s a loner, and if we make too big a fuss or thrust him into the limelight without warning he won’t be a happy little doctor. And right now I’ll give him whatever he wants for the next three weeks.”

  “Ah, I get it. We’ll let him warm up to us first, and then we’ll show him what small-town hospitality is.”

  Ivy grinned at how close Heather’s statement mirrored her own plans. “Exactly. So hop to it or you’ll spoil our surprise.”

  By the time Ethan arrived, the scent of Ivy’s coffee had permeated the office.

  “Good morning.” His eyes reflected wariness.

  “Good morning,” she replied cheerfully, noting how his dark hair still looked damp from his morning shower. He was dressed casually, in a pair of black cotton trousers and a short-sleeved lime-green shirt that lay open at his neck. Freshly shaven, he smelled like a clean, but masculinely scented bar of soap. “Are you ready to get started?”

  “It’s why I’m here,” he said shortly.

  She ignored his testy comment, certain he was trying to establish boundaries, but he was too late. She’d already seen past his ferocious bark to the cautious friendliness and heartfelt compassion underneath.

  “You sound like you need a morning cup of coffee,” she said instead, as she led him toward the coffeepot in the tiny room they’d set up as their kitchen. “I’m sure our brew isn’t up to your standards, but I bought some French vanilla grounds for you at the market this morning.”

  He looked stunned, as if he couldn’t imagine why she would have gone to such trouble. “You did? For me?”

  “Sure. Why not? It won’t hurt any of us to broaden our horizons a bit. Marty and Fran also said to tell you that if you want a special blend or brand, they’ll order it for you.”

  “Really? But I’ll be leaving soon.”

  “Not until the end of the summer, right?”

  “Possibly,” he prevaricated.

  “Doesn’t matter.” She grabbed a mug from the row of hooks above the microwave and filled it. “You’re here for the next couple of weeks and that’s what counts. Fran’s thinking about passing out samples to their customers, and then everyone in town will develop a taste for gourmet coffees, too. So be sure and let her know a few of your favorites. Sugar or creamer?”

  “Black.”

  “Now that we have the important stuff out of the way—” she filled a mug of her own “—tell me about David Grayson.”

  His blue eyes once again turned wary. “He’s doing better. I called the hospital a few minutes ago and his last glucose level had dropped to one-eighty. His potassium is staying around four and his pH came up nicely.”

  “Did you find out why he went into DKA in the first place?” It was nice talking to a colleague who’d understand the alphabet soup jargon, which in this case stood for diabetic ketoacidosis.

  “Like you, my initial thought was an infection of some sort, but I couldn’t find any visible signs,” he admitted. “His urine was clear, his chest sounded fine, and the X-rays didn’t show pneumonia. The strep screen was negative, although it will be a few days before the culture is completed. His parents also denied that he’d had a cold, stomach flu or anything viral.”

  “Do you think it’s a compliance issue?” she asked.

  “That’s my guess. I intend to have a heart-to-heart with young David tonight, and once we sort him out I think he may be able to go home tomorrow, with a follow-up visit in a couple of days.”

  “It sounds as if you have everything under control.”

  “I hope so.” He paused. “Is this when you chew
me out for not waking you?”

  She grinned at the way he stiffened, as if bracing himself for harsh words. “I thought about it,” she said lightly, “but then I changed my mind. Complaining about getting a relatively decent night’s sleep doesn’t make sense. Although I’m curious…Did you really try to wake me?”

  A grin slowly stretched across his face. “Yes, but to be honest I didn’t try too hard.”

  “I didn’t think you did.”

  “Things were running like a Swiss watch. But trust me. If something had come up that I couldn’t handle I would have done whatever was necessary to get you on your feet.”

  Somehow he seemed too confident to ever be in such a situation, but he didn’t seem the type whose ego was too large to admit he’d wandered into unfamiliar territory. Her instincts whispered that she’d gotten lucky when Ethan Locke had rolled into town.

  “Well, thanks again,” she said. “Tonight I’m returning the favor.”

  “Good—because Walt might think the bed in Room One is comfortable, but I don’t.” He rubbed the back of his neck.

  She laughed. “Walt’s opinion of what’s comfy doesn’t match mine, either. I personally prefer a bed in a regular patient room, so keep that in mind if you ever need a mattress for a few hours.”

  “I will.”

  Voices and a sudden wail punctuated the air. “Sounds like the hordes are descending,” she said. “Heather’s going to act as your nurse, so if you have any questions or can’t find anything, she’s the one to ask.”

  “What about you?”

  Ivy waved her hand. “I’ll be fine on my own today. Heather will help me when she can, in between your patients, and starting tomorrow we’ll have a temp nurse who’ll assist me. Meanwhile, we’ve created a system where you’ll use the rooms on the right. I presume you’ve already checked in with Ted this morning?”

  “Took care of that first thing, just like I was told,” he finished with a smile. “I can follow direction on occasion.”

  “I’m glad to hear it. Anyway, the office help will keep the coffee flowing, and my dad usually delivers lunch around eleven forty-five. Depending on how the morning goes, you may or may not have a chance to eat it, so I hope you ate your cornflakes before you came.”

  “And if I didn’t?”

  “We stash a few snacks in here. Peanuts, juice, apples and bananas. If you want something else, let Heather know. She’s our snack queen. A note of warning—if you don’t want to share, be sure to label it as yours.”

  “Just like med-school days.”

  “Yeah, we sleep and eat when we can.”

  Heather appeared at the door. “If you two are ready, I already have four rooms full of kids needing your attention.”

  Ivy held out her hand and Ethan took it. Amazingly enough, the same spark that had skittered down her spine yesterday, when she’d touched him, slid down her vertebrae again today. “Good luck, Doctor,” she said with a smile.

  “Thanks.” He turned away, then stopped. “Um, Ivy? We already have a problem.”

  “A problem? So soon?”

  He shrugged his shoulders. “My stethoscope is in a storage locker in St. Louis.”

  As problems went, it was one easily solved. “Is that all? Heather has a few extras in the med room. Pick one out and it’s yours.”

  “Thanks.”

  But as he meandered down the hallway Ivy wondered about a doctor who’d relegate such an invaluable and personal piece of equipment—a second pair of ears, as it were—to a box containing other unnecessary items. Granted, he was on sabbatical, for lack of a better word, and probably hadn’t planned to need his stethoscope while he meandered around the country, but even so, she couldn’t imagine a physician treating his most important tool like an unused can opener.

  When she considered how he’d wanted to be left alone, and hadn’t wanted to help her when she’d first approached him, how he’d put limits on his services, she wondered if Ethan’s demons were driving him completely away from medicine.

  Well, she decided, squaring her shoulders, she’d seen him at work, and she wasn’t going to let him turn his back on his career so easily.

  Ethan dropped his borrowed stethoscope on the counter in the last exam room with some relief. He hadn’t run at a frantic pace, but the steady stream of patients had ensured he was busy enough to drink his coffee on the run.

  Knowing he still had to pay a visit to young David Grayson, he headed down the hall in search of Ivy, to let her know that he was leaving. He found her and her entire staff celebrating in the kitchen, with a tub of chocolate swirl ice cream.

  “Did someone win the Lottery?” he asked.

  Ivy laughed. The lighthearted sound struck a carefree chord that had long been buried deep inside of him and made him think of spring and children and wagging puppy dogs. “This is better.”

  “Better than winning a huge prize?” he asked, as Heather handed him a heaping bowl of ice cream.

  All four heads nodded. “Look at the time,” Ivy crowed.

  He did. “It’s four-fifteen. So?”

  “So?” She sounded horrified. “Do you know how long it’s been since we finished before seven or eight o’clock? This is practically a miracle, and we owe it all to you.”

  “I wouldn’t go that far,” he said, uncomfortable with their praise and obvious adulation.

  “We saw the same amount of patients in seven hours that normally would have taken us twelve,” Ivy pronounced. “If that doesn’t prove you made a difference, then I’ll eat my blood-pressure cuff!”

  He grinned at her vehemence as he dipped into his ice cream. “OK, maybe I did have an impact, but technically I’m not finished. I need to stop by the hospital and check on the Grayson boy before I drive home.”

  “If things stay quiet for the next fifteen minutes we’re calling it a day, too,” Ivy declared. “If you like, stop by the diner on your way out of town. I happen to know Dad has fresh apple and blueberry pies today.”

  Although the prospect of right-out-of-the-oven pies was too good to pass up, he’d heard the mewling cry of sick infants and the affronted roar of the healthy all day. Both reminded him of what he’d lost and what he wanted to forget. Now he craved complete and utter silence from young and old alike. In fact, sitting on the back deck and listening to the birds until dark was extremely appealing. Actually, there was one thing that would top that scenario, and that would be sitting on his deck until dark with Ivy.

  “I’ll see what time I finish,” he hedged, unwilling to commit, even though he didn’t have anything special in his refrigerator. If he didn’t stop at the diner he would definitely need to visit Fran and Marty’s grocery store, because the only thing in his cupboards was a box of Shredded Wheat.

  “Do that,” she said. “In fact, I’ll tag along with you. I have a couple of kids to see myself.”

  He quickly polished off his ice cream, then accompanied Ivy down the corridor connecting the clinic to the hospital. “Any more cases of whooping cough?” he asked.

  “No, so let’s cross our fingers that the worst is over. Strep seems to be the disease of the day.”

  “And swimmer’s ear,” he said, referring to the pseudomonas ear infections, now that kids spent most of their hot days in a pool.

  “If it isn’t one thing it’s another,” she agreed. “What’s your plan for David?”

  “I’m having a man-to-man talk with him.”

  “Sounds serious. Let me know if you want me to play the good cop to your bad one.”

  He grinned. “Who said I was going to be the bad cop?”

  “You earned the role by default, because I don’t frown as well as you do.” She gave him a thumbs-up. “Break a leg, partner!”

  Ethan watched her saunter down the hall and disappear into a patient room. What was it about her that made him feel as if the winter of his life was about to give way to spring? Maybe he didn’t want to go home to his solitary cabin right away after all…For the
first time since he came to Danton he wished he’d rented a place in town, rather than several miles away.

  “Can I help you, Doctor?”

  The nurse’s question pulled him up short. No doubt tongues would wag if anyone saw the sappy grin on his face, so he steeled his expression into more professional lines. “David Grayson’s chart,” he barked.

  She handed it to him and, after quickly reviewing the latest lab results and nursing notes, he strode into the teen’s room.

  David was sprawled in bed in typical teenage fashion, clicking the television remote control with utter boredom written on his face. Ethan intended to use David’s attitude to his advantage.

  “How are you doing this afternoon?” Ethan asked as he closed the door.

  The youth straightened and his expression brightened. “Great. Can I go home now?”

  “Maybe tomorrow,” Ethan said.

  “Tomorrow?” David sounded horrified. “But the nurse said my glucose level was normal.”

  “The numbers look great,” Ethan admitted, “but we need to find out why you developed problems. Especially when the dose of insulin you were taking should have been adequate.”

  David avoided his gaze. “I don’t know what went wrong,” he mumbled.

  Ethan had a strong suspicion. However, he wanted David to confess. “If you don’t know what went wrong, I can’t send you home. The same thing could happen again.”

  “But…but you’re the doctor and you straightened everything out. My numbers are good. You said so yourself. I’m sure once I go home I’ll be fine.”

  Ethan stifled a smile at the boy’s sincere assurance. “Perhaps,” he said. “But as your doctor I need to know why your condition spiraled out of control. Your mom said you haven’t been sick.”

  “I haven’t.”

  “No upset stomach or a cold or—”

  “I’ve been fine.”

  “Your tests certainly don’t indicate any sign of infection, but I don’t have all the culture results. It could take as long as two more days until the reports come in. I wouldn’t want to risk missing anything, so it’s best if you stay here, where we can monitor you.”