He didn’t wait for her answer, just nodded toward the outside when she turned to look at him fully. “Here’s the door,” he said. “I’ll tell Dan that you showed up. We wouldn’t want any black marks on that silvery reputation you’ve made for yourself, would we? Don’t worry, I won’t tell him anything but the truth. You came, I wasn’t buying, and I sent you packing. End of story.”
She stood there, taking deep breaths. Her chin had risen a solid notch or two, and she hadn’t taken one single step from her place by the window.
“The door,” he reminded her softly. The edge in his voice was real. Other than Dan, Nathan didn’t talk to anyone much anymore, and it was entirely by choice. He didn’t want anyone around. He especially didn’t want to stand around chatting about how green the grass was. Or anything else, for that matter.
He leaned against the door, opening it wider, just as if that little bit of a body wouldn’t fit through the already yawning opening. Pulling his arm around, he gestured toward her car out in the drive.
Her eyes lit instantly on his hand. In his anger he’d forgotten to hide the long, unyielding fingers. Now they hung in midair, open to her for several seconds before he stuffed the hand into his armpit. “You can leave anytime now. Like I said, here’s the door. You do understand the words I don’t want you here, don’t you?”
“Of course, Dr. Murphy, and I do know where the door is,” she said softly. “And that you’d like to close it in my face. But I also know that it opens easily, that you don’t lock it. And even if you did—” she smiled suddenly, smugly, her eyes widening “—even if you did lock the door, I have a key.” She fished one out of the back pocket of her work whites.
Nathan stood there, breathing deeply. If he’d been any hotter, flames would have been streaming from his nostrils. He couldn’t believe that Dan had given this stranger, this woman, a key to his house.
“Don’t bother raising your voice,” she said. “I’m used to dealing with difficult patients, Dr. Murphy. It’s part of my job. And don’t worry. Dr. Anderson warned me about you. You can’t do anything to blacken my reputation. Only I can. And I could only do that if I let you run me off. But I’m not going to.”
As if to prove her point, she plopped down on the dusty couch, stifling a sneeze. Nodding toward the other end, she motioned for him to sit down. “Now, if you’ve finished arguing, Dr. Murphy, we’ve got things to talk about.”
Amazed at her stubbornness, unsure how to get her to leave short of calling the police or...hurting her, Nathan swore beneath his breath. Turning on his heel, he left the room. If he couldn’t get rid of her, he’d ignore her. Sooner or later, she’d get the hint.
But the soft slide of rubber-soled shoes sounded behind him. Turning quickly, he caught her nose square in the middle of his chest. He reached out to catch her, then froze, taking one long stride back.
“You’d better have a damn good reason for tailing me, short stuff. What does it take for you to get the message? A phone call from the president? Can’t you see that I want to be left alone?”
She was biting her lip, breathing deeply as if she’d just run a race. Her cheeks were flushed, her hair was tumbled from her collision with him.
“Now we’re getting somewhere,” she said suddenly. “You want to be left alone, and I’m absolutely prepared to get out of your life forever.”
He waited. It was clear by the smug smile on her gorgeous little lips that she was preparing to spring the trap.
“And when will that lucky day be?” he asked.
“When you’re back in shape, one hundred percent. When you no longer feel you have to hide your hands behind your back.”
Slowly, with an eerie smile that he didn’t mean, Nathan drew both his hands out and held them up before her face.
She stared at them, giving each a clinical appraisal, then shook her head slowly. “Bringing them out for shock effect or just to get rid of me doesn’t cut it, Murphy. You’ll get me out of your life once and for all, forever, when they actually do the job they’re meant to do. I’ll do the supreme vanishing act when you’re back in the operating arena. That’s the deal. You give me flack, cause me grief, slow down your progress and you’ll have me just that much longer. You try to keep me out, I’ll sic Dr. Anderson and the whole ever-loving hospital administration on you. You’re top priority, don’t you know? And you don’t have a choice in this matter. Neither do I.”
Her words gave him pause. He hadn’t considered the fact that she wasn’t a willing participant in this fiasco. But then, why should that matter to him?
“Is Dan forcing this on you?” he demanded, shoving his hands back behind him.
Faith raised her head quickly, looking him dead in the eye. “This is a job, Dr. Murphy. You’ve been assigned to me, no ifs, ands or buts. And I’ll admit that it’s an inconvenience. I already have a full complement of patients, people who are counting on me, people who aren’t ordering me out the door. A little boy who’s taking the first steps he’s managed in a year. A woman who’s just starting to believe she won’t be a burden to her family. I don’t really have the time or the inclination for a royal pain in the butt like you, who doesn’t even want my help. But I’ve got you, anyway. And I don’t argue when my orders come. I love my work, but it’s also my bread and butter. If I don’t work, we don’t eat.”
Nathan didn’t have to ask who “we” was. With her hands outstretched, he could clearly see the bracelet that slipped down her wrist. Made of macaroni bits that had obviously been spray painted red, it was held together with a frayed bit of blue yarn. There were spots where the paint had either not adhered or had chipped away, leaving yellow shadows here and there. Not an attractive piece of jewelry by a long shot; yet she wore it. And Nathan knew why—instantly.
The bracelet had been made by a child, her son. It screamed “family,” and family was a word Nathan shied away from, dreaded; one that crept up on him in dreams that started out sweet and turned bitter and haunting before the night was over. One more reason he didn’t want Faith Reynolds around. She had a child. Never mind all the rest. Never mind the lady herself. The woman was taboo.
~ ~ ~
Faith studied Nathan as he turned from her, blowing out a breath. One hand still rested somewhere behind him, the other raked at his blond hair with fingers that no longer functioned properly. His green eyes were narrowed, his chin jutted out as if preparing for one more fight with her.
She could have told him that it was pointless. With Dr. Anderson geared up and breathing fire, Nathan Murphy had become top priority at the hospital. They’d given him time, valuable time in therapy terms, to mourn and come about. Now they were prepared to drag him kicking and screaming back into the world of the living. He was too precious a commodity for the administration to waste. Murphy and his magical fingers was the shot in the arm that the financially troubled Southeastern Illinois Memorial needed. A big hitter. A name to be brought in. By Faith.
There was a lot riding on her success with this man. Her own reputation was at stake. That was why she was here.
But was it why she was staying? Partly. And partly, because of something else. Looking up into Nathan Murphy’s eyes in those first few seconds, Faith had suffered a shock. She’d dealt with many patients and was used to seeing the lights of people’s souls dimmed. She was used to fear and frustration, anger and bitterness on the part of her patients. Somehow it was still frightening to see this man like that. She remembered looking up at him two years ago and feeling as if she’d just touched a live wire. Nathan was too full of life to get close to. She’d heard other people say the same. But this Nathan, this new Nathan...Faith couldn’t finish the thought. The old Nathan might have been dangerous, but at least he had been alive.
She knew just why Dr. Anderson was pushing so hard. Because Faith wanted to know that Dr. Murphy was back, alive and working his miracles with his magical hands, too. And even though she didn’t want to be the one to bring him back, she could no mo
re walk away from him than she could stop the flow of day and night.
“You haven’t spoken for several minutes, Ms. Reynolds. It couldn’t be that you’ve come up with a way out of this for both of us, could it?”
He was still looking away, as if he couldn’t bear to stare at her anymore. And with his head turned to the side, Faith could see just how long and shaggy his dark blond hair had grown. She wondered if the length of his hair was simply part and parcel of the fact that he no longer took care of himself properly or if it was more a reflection of the rebel within him. For there was no doubt in her mind that Nathan was a rebel. He probably worked his magic on patients by threatening them if they didn’t get well.
She looked at his hands, at his long, stiffened fingers that had saved so many lives, healed so many helpless people. “No way on earth have I changed my mind, doctor.”
He turned to her then, his voice deadly. “I’m not going to the hospital for treatment, no matter what you threaten me with. Nobody, not you, not Dan, is going to drag me in there so that everyone can gawk at me. I value my privacy.”
“So you told me.” Faith tilted her head. “And I told you that I had patients scheduled all day long. I’ll come here after hours.”
Nathan took a step nearer, leaned closer, his eyes level with her own. Oh yes, he was still trying to intimidate her into backing down.
“You have a son, Ms. Reynolds,” he reminded her. “One you seem to care about. A kid needs his mother home at night.”
She nodded, smiling sweetly into his face. “Yes, I know that, and I’ll be there every night after we’re done here. While I’m gone, I’ll miss Cory very much. He’ll be a real incentive for me to get you back in shape quickly. As soon as is humanly and medically possible, we’ll be done and I’ll be gone.”
“Good. I’ll send roses on the day you clear out of here, just for the pleasure of seeing you gone.”
Something slightly resembling a grim smile passed over Nathan’s lips. His eyes which had been narrowed, opened wide, emphasizing his words. For one brief second, Faith stared into those hypnotic, jewel green eyes again. The air rushed from her lungs in one swift stream, and she knew without question that once long ago, Nathan had been a reckless and wild man, that women had thrown their hearts at him whether he asked them to or not, that he’d once used those hands for giving pleasure as well as saving lives.
The thought dropped in like a live grenade.
“Yes, well, Dr. Murphy, I’m sure we’ll both look forward to your return to perfect health. I’ll just be leaving now. Cory’s sitter probably wants to go home. I’ll be back as soon as I’ve made arrangements for a permanent after-hours sitter for him.”
She backed away, watching Nathan’s eyes, the hard, thin line of his mouth. Swiftly she turned and made for the door. She could hear Nathan’s steps behind her.
“Make sure you do get a responsible sitter,” he ordered, just as she placed her hand on the still open door.
“What?” Faith whirled at his unexpected words. He was only one step behind her, so close she had to bend her head back to look into his face.
“A responsible sitter,” he repeated. “Don’t bring the kid—don’t bring him here,” he said slowly. His voice was raspy as if he were having difficulty getting the words out. “I can’t have a child here, and that’s one thing I won’t take any arguments on. All right?”
It was more than a request, more than an order. Nathan’s eyes were cold, blanketed, masking the pain she knew she’d find if she looked deep enough. His words were a plea. He’d had a child. He’d lost a child.
Faith understood.
“I’ll find someone reliable,” she agreed.
For two seconds Faith felt Nathan’s gaze burning into her back as she walked away. Then just as quickly, the door closed, severing the contact.
She’d agreed to something she hadn’t wanted to do. She’d set the ball rolling with Nathan. But at least she now knew that she needn’t worry. Nathan Murphy was well on the way to hating her. What’s more, he couldn’t ever be around children—or families. It was sad.
It was a godsend.
She would have no trouble maintaining a purely professional relationship with a man like that. And she would never have to worry about this man getting too close.
~ ~ ~
Just a few hours later, Faith got Cory ready for bed. She put the book aside that they’d been reading and pressed a soft kiss on his brow as she arranged his covers.
But Cory sat up straight in bed. Fighting sleep. “Did you think any more about show-and-tell—about my daddy?” he asked.
Folding down a corner of the sheet, smoothing it, Faith nodded. “I’ve thought about it a bit, Cory. And I’ve decided that I would very much like for you to have a daddy. But these things take time, and it’s not as simple as you’d think.”
“I don’t understand.” He tugged at her hand. “You meet somebody and kiss him real good. Then you get married. Don’t you watch TV, Mom?”
Faith couldn’t help smiling. She wondered what kind of television he was watching during the daytime when she couldn’t screen his viewing. But now wasn’t the time to belabor that point. Instead, she turned to him with a mock fierce expression. “Cory, you know that television isn’t real, don’t you?”
Frowning, Cory nodded. “I know. You to’d me once. But how do you find a daddy?”
She didn’t have the slightest idea, but there was no way she was going to burst his balloon or his confidence in her.
“Well,” Faith leaned close and smoothed the hair back from her son’s forehead. She picked up his teddy bear from the foot of the bed and handed it to him. “Maybe we should start by deciding what kind of man we’re looking for. He’d have to be right for us, someone we both liked and could live with, you know.”
“I know. He’d have to be someone who liked broccoli,” he said, wrinkling his nose. “Cause you like to cook broccoli.”
Faith chuckled and nodded. “We wouldn’t want him running away in fear of my cooking, would we? But what I meant was, what kind of a person do you think you’d want for a daddy? If we’re going to look, then we should take our time and be very careful about what we’re looking for. And you have to be aware, right up front, that we might not find anyone. It could happen, you know.”
She waited, watching him until he raised his chin and looked at her. “I know,” he said grudgingly.
“All right, then.” Hoping that her warning really had been enough, Faith took a breath. “So…let’s see. You try to describe to me what you think a father should be like and we’ll make a list, a wish list.”
“Okay.” Cory scrambled out of bed. He came back with a storybook—one of his favorites—as well as a torn piece of paper and a stubby pencil with teeth marks on the eraser.
“You write,” he said. “Put down, ‘The Daddy Wish List’ so we don’t forget what it is.”
Dutifully Faith took the piece of paper and scribbled the words at the top.
“First off,” Cory said, “I want him to look like Mr. Benson in this story. I like Mr. Benson. Besides, he looks a lot like me. He’s got black hair and brown eyes. I want my daddy to look like me the way Billy Wilkins’s daddy does.”
“Black hair and brown eyes,” Faith repeated, writing the words down.
Cory nodded.
“What else?” Faith asked.
Cory looked at her. He scratched his head and pulled his teddy bear close, fiddling with the nearly defuzzed left ear.
“I don’t know. What do you think?” He covered his mouth to hide a yawn and crawled back onto the bed.
Faith smiled, watching her son trying to stay awake. “I think that we should talk about this when we’re both a little more wide awake. After all, we have time. The daddies of the world are not simply going to disappear overnight.”
Cory looked uncertain, but as another yawn crept up on him, he nodded his agreement. “Maybe I’ll think of some more later. After Scotty’s
dad comes to school.”
Faith smiled and dropped another kiss on Cory’s forehead, then tucked him into his bed. As she wandered from the room and quietly shut the door, she looked down at the words on the list she still held in her hand. Black hair and brown eyes.
Her first instincts about the day had been right. Several wonderful things had happened. She’d gotten through her interview with Nathan Murphy and came out—well, mostly unscathed. What’s more, she and Cory had begun their search for the perfect man.
Black hair and brown eyes. It made sense to her.
Tomorrow she’d begin arranging her schedule so that she’d have time for an angry, blond-haired, green-eyed giant. But that wasn’t going to be a problem, after all.
Raising the scrap of paper so that the words stood out clearly, Faith read the words once again.
Black hair and brown eyes.
Turning to Cory’s closed door, she smiled. Her son wanted a father with hair and eyes the color of his own.
It was a wise choice. She guessed she’d just have to do her best to find him what he wanted.
Chapter Two
If Faith had thought things would be easy just because she and Dr. Murphy had cleared one hurdle, she was apprised of her error the minute she walked through his door the next day.
With an armload of supplies, Faith fumbled for the knob, stumbled into the house and found herself face-to-face with the second button on Nathan’s shirt.
She bounced backward two steps and looked up, straight into those fierce green eyes.
“You’re late, Ms. Reynolds,” he said softly. “Again.”
His long, jean-clad legs were spread wide, his arms crossed, emphasizing the chest beneath his white knit shirt. He was a good foot taller than Faith. Most women would have been intimidated. Or intrigued.
But Faith’s eyes clung to the vision of his impressive body mere seconds before lighting instead on the awkward spread of his hands that should have been gripping his biceps. He didn’t know what to do with those hands, the hands that had once been flexible, talented, capable of performing delicate surgery in spaces that would have made other surgeons blanch. His hands were the only things out of sync with the image of outrage signified by his stance.
The Wish List Page 2
