The Baby Doctor's Bride

by Jessica Matthews

  “That’s right. And you know why? Because even though you were going through a tough time, I knew you’d come through it.” He sipped his coffee. “It appears you have—which brings me to my next question. Have you given any thought to returning? You know I’d take you back in a heartbeat.”

  Ethan wrapped his hands around his mug. “I appreciate your confidence, but I’m committed here for the time being. Even if I weren’t, I don’t know if I’m ready. I enjoy what I’m doing.”

  “I understand. The pressures are certainly different,” Stewart observed, “but you have a gift, Ethan. Whether you work for me at St. Louis Children’s or go elsewhere, don’t let your gift slip through your fingers.”

  “As I said, I’m not ready, and I don’t know if I ever will be. Right now general pediatrics is enough.”

  “All I’m asking is for you to keep the door open to the possibility,” Stewart urged. “Should you decide you’re ready for a challenge of a different sort, call me. Don’t talk yourself out of it because you’ve gotten comfortable here.”

  “If I decide to take the next step, I’ll contact you,” Ethan promised. “Until then…”

  “Until then keep doing what you’re doing. It’s obviously working.” Stewart winked.

  Ethan grinned, certain Stewart had guessed that his relationship with Ivy had as much to do with his progress as returning to medicine. “It is, and I will,” he promised.

  Keep the door open to the possibility…should you decide you’re ready for a challenge of a different sort, call me.

  The sudden need for caffeine after the phone call she’d received had driven Ivy to the lounge for a bracing cup of Ethan’s special blend. But she froze in her tracks as soon as she heard Stewart’s voice. She hadn’t meant to eavesdrop, but she couldn’t backtrack until she heard Ethan’s reply.

  If I decide to take the next step…I’ll contact you.

  He’d said if, she told herself as she silently slipped away and sought refuge behind the battered desk that had been with her since her college days. He hadn’t given a definite answer, which meant he hadn’t decided one way or another. As much as she’d prepared herself for this eventuality—he only had one week to go before he fulfilled their verbal agreement—she’d selfishly hoped Ethan might choose to stay. Yet now that Stewart Trimble knew Ethan had begun to practice medicine again he’d increase the pressure on Ethan to return to St. Louis Children’s Hospital.

  She couldn’t fault Stewart. She’d do the same thing if it meant she’d regain a top-notch neonatalogist.

  The point was, however, she wouldn’t be worried if she didn’t have news of her own to pass along—news that could change everything and send Ethan packing by this weekend.

  “Here you are.” Ethan poked his head inside the room, which was hardly bigger than a closet. “I’ve been looking for you.”

  “I’m here,” she said, forcing a note of cheerfulness into her voice. “Did your old boss leave?”

  “Yeah. I hope you don’t mind that I sent him on his way with one of your coffee mugs? He hates plastic.”

  If a mug was the only thing he took, she’d see that Stewart had a mug for every day of the week, in every vehicle he owned. “No problem.”

  Ethan moved a pile of magazines from the extra chair before he sprawled in it himself. “This has been quite a day,” he mentioned.

  “I’ll say,” she agreed fervently.

  “So what did you think of Stewart?” he asked.

  “He seems like a nice enough fellow. Successful, driven,” she added.

  “He is. I owe him a lot. He kept me sane when everything went crazy.”

  As much as Ivy wanted to dislike the fellow, Ethan’s admission made it impossible. “I’m glad you had someone like him supporting you during that time,” she said sincerely. “So, he was just passing through the area?”

  “Yeah. I think he wanted to make sure I hadn’t turned into a modern-day version of Jeremiah Johnson.”

  Ivy smiled as she remembered the old film she’d seen on a classic movie channel. The picture centered on a disenchanted veteran of the Mexican-American War who found refuge as a trapper in the mountains. “Was he pleased to find you were a productive member of society?” she teased. “Not holed up in your cabin, surrounded by empty beer bottles and pizza boxes and wearing the same clothes day in and day out?”

  “He was.” He paused. “He offered me a job.”

  “I’m not surprised. Were you?”

  “No, but I told him I wasn’t ready. I like what I’m doing now.”

  “I thought you did,” she said lightly, “but it’s nice hearing you say so.”

  “Enough about Stewart. You said earlier you had something to tell me?” He raised an expectant eyebrow.

  “We have a small change in plans,” she began. “Now, it doesn’t have to change anything in our agreement, but it’s something you should know, because it could affect our situation.”

  “Sounds ominous. Do you want to tell me what’s going on or do I have to guess?”

  Her face warmed at his wry tone. “Sorry. Jed called to tell me that Walt is back in town.”

  “I see. Permanently or temporarily?”

  “His brother passed away last week, and Walt’s home for good.”

  Ethan’s expression remained inscrutable. “That’s good. Isn’t it?”

  “Yes, but…” Her voice died and she drew a bracing breath. “The point is, I know we agreed you’d leave after Walt returned, but you also agreed to three weeks, which means you still have another week left. Walt’s going to officially see patients on Monday, so if you want to accept Stewart’s offer…”

  “What do you want, Ivy?” he asked, rising to skirt her desk and perch on the corner next to her.

  “I won’t hold you to the three weeks,” she said stiffly. “Walt is back, and if you want to continue with your vacation or head back to St. Louis, you can.”

  “What do you want, Ivy?” he repeated.

  “It doesn’t matter what I want,” she said crossly. “You’re the one who has to decide.”

  “Yes, and before I can,” he said patiently, “I’d like to know your feelings on the subject.”

  “Oh, for heaven’s sake, Ethan,” she snapped. “Isn’t it obvious?”

  “I’ve learned it’s best not to assume anything.”

  He was going to make her beg, but she wanted him so badly she would. “I want you to stay, Ethan. For however long you’d like.” A lifetime, she wanted to add, but didn’t. “I know this isn’t a prestigious practice, or a booming metropolis with a convenience store on every corner, but the kids here need you.”

  A smile tugged at one corner of his mouth. “Only the children?”

  She poured all the love she felt into her gaze. “I need you, Ethan, and not just as a colleague.”

  His smile widened. “In that case I’ll stay.”

  It took a minute before his meaning registered. “You will?”

  “For the next week,” he stipulated. “That way everyone has time to adjust.”

  “And at the end of next week?” she pressed.

  “We’ll negotiate a new agreement.”

  “Oh?” She narrowed her eyes. “With what sort of conditions?”

  “We split everything fifty-fifty,” he insisted. “I’ll take my share of the on-call duty, as well as the patient load.”

  A mental picture of Stewart formed. “What about your old boss? He doesn’t seem the type to give up, and he wants you back badly.”

  “He’ll have to learn to live with the disappointment.”

  “Are you certain, Ethan?” she asked. “Absolutely certain?”

  He pulled her out of her chair and into his embrace. “I can see I’ll have to show you.”

  Bending his head to meet her mouth, he did.

  CHAPTER TEN

  WALT was precisely the man Ethan had expected. Tall, thin, with sparse gray hair, twinkling eyes and a gentle smile, all combined
to create a man who’d singlehandedly looked after the town’s healthcare needs for years.

  Until Ivy had come to lighten his load.

  “I’m glad she found you to help her,” Walt told him over the special dinner that Don had prepared and served to them in the small room designated for private parties. “I don’t mind telling you I was worried about how she was coping.”

  Ivy chuckled. “I was worried about me, too. Thank goodness Ethan came to my rescue.”

  Ethan hadn’t considered himself as a rescuer, but he basked in the light of Ivy’s praise. Even if he returned to St. Louis tomorrow he wouldn’t receive a reception like this, or experience the same depth of goodwill, and he was fairly envious.

  “I found someone to come to mine,” Walt said. “I talked Jed into staying on a couple of days a week.”

  “He means he twisted my arm,” Jed complained good-naturedly. “But as long as I can get in a few extra days on the golf course I’ll be happy.”

  “You never told us,” Ivy exclaimed. “How wonderful!”

  “I didn’t want to say anything until Walt returned—” Jed said.

  “What’s even better,” Walt interrupted, “is that between the four of us Danton won’t be quite so frightening to a new physician. Not many young docs want to work like we did when we were starting out.” He patted his wife’s hand and exchanged a secret smile. “With any luck we’ll bring in another family-practice fellow, and maybe an OB-GYN and a surgeon.”

  “Sounds like you have big plans,” Ethan observed.

  “A man has to dream big,” Walt said firmly. “Otherwise his soul shrivels up and dies. It’s as simple as that.”

  Ethan pondered Walt’s philosophy long after the dinner had ended and he’d escorted Ivy home to spend the evening with her. He’d lost so much after Cody had died—a loving fiancée, a large family, a rewarding career, a place to call home. As Walt had said, without those dreams to hold on to his soul truly had shriveled and died. No wonder he’d taken to the road and drifted along without purpose.

  Somehow, in her magical way, Ivy had made him want to resurrect the dreams he’d buried, but he wanted more than a resurrected dream floating in his head. He wanted to hold it within his grasp.

  “You aren’t paying attention to the movie,” she mentioned.

  “Sorry,” he said. “My mind wandered.”

  She threaded her arm through his and snuggled against him on the sofa. “Any particular path?”

  “No. I was just thinking about something Walt said.”

  “Dreaming big?”

  He glanced at her. “How did you know?”

  “He’s told me that ever since I mentioned an interest in med school. ‘Dream big, Ivy,’ he said. ‘Then go after those dreams. Most people regret the things they didn’t do instead of the things they did.’”

  “Sound advice.”

  She smiled a come-hither smile and began unbuttoning his shirt placket. “Which is why, now that you’ve mentioned it, I’m going to go after a particular dream of mine.”

  As her hands rubbed against his chest, his throat went dry. “Which is?”

  “It’s more in the realm of fantasy, since it involves silk scarves and honey, but we won’t quibble semantics.” She jumped up, then tugged him off the sofa.

  “Silk and honey? This could be interesting.”

  “Oh, it will be,” she said as she led him into the bedroom. “So don’t plan on going home anytime soon.”

  “I won’t,” he promised.

  The weekend went by much too fast, but it couldn’t have turned out more idyllic. Fortunately she’d only gotten called to the hospital once, leaving the rest of her time free for walks in the park, a trip to the local movie theater, and just sitting on her patio enjoying the sunset.

  Monday, however, rapidly went downhill—and it began with a phone call as soon as she arrived at eight.

  Walt’s voice came over the line. “Ivy, I need you.”

  The urgency in his tone immediately captured her attention. “What’s up?”

  “Come to the E.R. I have to deliver a pre-term baby and you have more experience with them than I do.”

  “We aren’t set up for obstetrical services,” she said cautiously.

  “Ready or not, we don’t have a choice. Which is why I need you here. My patient has gone into labor and I can’t stop it. She’s only twenty-seven weeks, Ivy. I need a pediatrician if we’re going to give that youngster a fighting chance.”

  “How long do I have?”

  “Not enough to mention.”

  Before she could ask another question, the dial tone hummed in her ear. Ethan, she thought. If a preterm infant was about to make an appearance, its best chance lay with Ethan.

  She tore off down the hall, and ran into him as he was coming through the staff entrance. “It’s about time you got here. We have to go.”

  “Go where?” he asked.

  “To the E.R. Walt is about to deliver a baby and he needs our help. Actually, he needs your help. The baby’s not full term.”

  “By how much?” he asked.

  “Twenty-seven weeks.”

  Ethan let out a deep breath. “I don’t suppose there’s any way we can Medevac her out before she delivers?”

  “No, there isn’t.”

  “Did Walt call for a helicopter? Is one on its way?”

  “He hung up before I could ask. We’ll find out when we get there.”

  He followed her to the side hallway connecting the clinic to the hospital. “There isn’t a lot I can do without proper tools, Ivy. Even the peds-sized equipment will be too big.”

  “I know, Ethan, but we have to do our best.”

  “You realize its chances aren’t good? Not this far from a NICU.”

  “We can’t give up without a fight.”

  “It will need a special airway, and an incubator or Isolette to maintain body temperature. Does the hospital even own one?”

  “I’m not sure, but we’ll make something work.”

  He flashed her a look of supreme disgust. “I’ll bet the pharmacy doesn’t even have the drugs I’ll need.” He froze in his tracks and met her gaze. “You do understand what I’m telling you, don’t you? We’re set up to fail.”

  Certain his complaints stemmed from insecurity, she cupped his face with both hands.

  “I know this isn’t an ideal situation,” she said, “but I have faith in you, Ethan Locke. You may not have every gadget and high-tech gizmo you’d like at your fingertips, but you are that baby’s best chance. Not Walt, not me. You. Do you hear what I’m saying?”

  He nodded slowly. “I hear you.”

  “Good. Now, let’s go.”

  Whether it was due to her pep talk or Ethan’s instincts taking over, once they were inside his earlier hesitancy disappeared. He barked orders and sent every available nursing staff member scurrying for supplies. Technicians from the lab, respiratory services and Radiology received his instructions so they could be prepared.

  “I want blood gases, glucose, calcium and bilirubin levels,” he demanded. “A chest X-ray and a respirator. I don’t suppose we’re lucky enough to have one suitable for peds patients?”

  “Actually,” the respiratory therapist began, “we purchased a new unit a few months ago. With the flick of a switch it converts from adult to peds.”

  “What about an airway?”

  “Sorry,” the woman apologized. “We don’t stock any as tiny as what you need.”

  “Damn. Well, we’ll just have to improvise.”

  Satisfied that Ethan was organizing his end of things, Ivy went inside the trauma room, where Walt was quietly coaching his patient with her husband’s help.

  “How’s it going?” she asked, in between the woman’s contractions.

  “We’re having a baby soon. How’re things going out there?”

  “Ethan has turned into a regular Simon Legree. He’s a neonatalogist, you know.”

  Walt’s eyes widened.
She’d clearly caught him off-guard with her announcement. “Well, well. At least there’s one bright spot in all this.”

  “He’s originally from St. Louis, and I’ll tell you the story when this is over.”

  “I’ll be waiting.”

  “In the meantime, what can I do?”

  “I’ll need a second pair of hands in a minute, so be ready.” He addressed his patient. “Come on, Vicky. It’s time for another push.”

  “I can’t,” Vicky sobbed. “The baby’s coming too soon. It wasn’t supposed to happen like this.”

  “No,” Ivy agreed, “but today is your lucky day. We just happen to have a very experienced neonatalogist in town, and he’s getting ready to take care of your baby as soon as it’s born.”

  “He’s a specialist?”

  “That’s right.”

  The door opened and Ethan strode in, gloved, gowned and masked, as he directed his entourage of staff.

  “In fact, he’s here now. So concentrate on delivering your baby.”

  Apparently reassured by Ethan’s credentials, Vicky bore down once again. Several pushes later the head was exposed, and Walt suctioned out its nose and mouth. Another push and the shoulders slid free and into his waiting hands.

  Seconds later he cut the cord and passed the baby to Ethan, who stood nearby, ready to receive the newborn baby girl who fit in the palm of one hand. He whisked her away to a radiant warmer that looked as if it should be in a museum. Regardless of its age, it worked—which was what mattered.

  “Come on, darling,” he coaxed as he deftly worked to make the tiny baby breathe on its own. Suddenly a weak, mewling cry came forth.

  “You did it,” Ivy said, amazed by Ethan’s success, and relieved that he had been available to do the honors.

  “Yeah,” he said grimly, “but we’re not out of the woods, yet. Can someone get a current ETA for the Medevac flight?”

  “I’ll go,” a nurse volunteered, before she hurried from the room.

  “What do you think?” Ivy asked him softly.

  “We have a fight ahead of us. Let’s hope the crew gets here with my supplies before it’s too late.”