by Dianne Drake
But what about Beau? That was the question still plaguing her. Did he need to know about the baby? Did he even want to know? It had been her decision to come and find him but, as far as she knew, it was still his decision to be anonymous. Which made this tough.
He’s living in a backwoods area called Sugar Creek, Tennessee, Miss Lambert. Working as the area doctor, I believe. Words from the private investigator she’d hired to find Braxton Alexander, after her lawyer had obtained the information.
Sure, she could have bought more information, probably paid for a life history, including all the nuances. But that had seemed wrong to her. Seemed too intrusive, especially as Braxton Alexander—Beau—had been an unidentified donor prior to her search.
We’re sorry, Miss Lambert. Those records are confidential. We informed Mrs. Braxton of the paternity error because of the legalities involved. But we do not divulge identities, even in cases such as this.
Cases such as this...one lawyer and one private investigator later and here she was, walking through a perfect, tidy little doctor’s office, getting ready to treat one of that error’s patients.
And, admittedly, she was a little excited to do so. This was nice. All of it. The waiting area was small but cozy. Both exam rooms basic but stocked with everything a GP would need.
And Beau’s office... She stepped inside and looked around on her way to yank the splinter. To the left was a wooden shelf filled with medical texts, some very old, some much newer. Two generations of learning, she guessed. Then there was the wall of certificates and diplomas. All bearing the name Braxton Beauregard Alexander. Some yellowed through the glass, some more pristine.
It was all Emily’s baby’s heritage, she thought as she ran her fingers over the glass covering Beau’s medical diploma. It was also something that made her feel even more...conflicted. “I’ll figure it out,” she told the baby. “Give me time, and I promise I’ll figure out what I’m supposed to do.”
“It’s really pretty simple,” Beau said from the doorway.
She spun to face him, and he almost took her breath away he was so handsome. Something she’d already known, something she still wasn’t getting over. “Wh-what?”
“The splinter. Sterilize it, give it tug if it’s visible. If it’s not, come get me and I’ll make a cut...”
She shook her head. “I know how to remove a splinter. I was just wondering...” She looked back at all the diplomas of the two Braxton Alexanders, M.D. “It’s easier if I don’t know the people involved. I’m great at the impersonal decisions, but this is going to get personal, which means it’s going to get complicated. I like Brax. And you. And it’s like I’m the referee in the ring, ready to call the winner the one who comes out hitting the hardest. I’m not sure I can do it.”
“Then don’t. Either way, I promised you the surgery and exam room in Wyoming, and you’ll get them.”
“Without doing anything? Because so far I’ve treated sniffles and a scraped knee.”
He smiled. “I need help, Deanna. But not at the cost of making you uncomfortable. So if you can’t work here, I’ll understand. And if you can’t make suggestions about how Brax and I can work out our differences, I’ll understand that as well.”
“I want to,” she said. And she did. But how could she be objective when every time she looked at Beau her breath caught and every time she thought about him she remembered that he was the father of Emily’s baby? It was crazy. Mixed up. Her pregnancy hormones weren’t helping any by kicking in so often.
Yet she didn’t want to leave. She knew what she needed to know, had seen what she needed to see, and still didn’t to leave. “I’m not backing out of the agreement but just so you’ll know, it’s tough enough without you and Brax both trying to score points with me.”
“Then I won’t.”
“As simple as that?” she asked.
“Simple as that.” Rather than shaking hands with her when he extended his hand to hers, he held out a different set of forceps. “More precise than what you’ve got. Those belong to my grandfather, these belong to me. And that’s not meant to sway you but to put the best surgical instrument in your hand.”
“Good thing,” she said, taking the instrument then scooting around him, practically holding her breath until she was well out of his sight.
“I’ve got to get over this,” she said to the baby as she opened the door and greeted ten-year-old Tommy Dodson, whose foot was propped up on the exam table, his hand firmly in the clutch of a very nervous-looking mother.
The mother-child bond, she thought as she commenced prepping Tommy’s toe. It was a strong one. And she looked forward to its tug. She also felt guilty, and that’s the part that held her back. No matter how much she wanted this baby, she wanted Emily to have it even more. But that wasn’t going to happen, was it?
“So tell me again how you got the splinter in your little toe. Something about climbing barefoot on the wood pile...?”
* * *
“It’s crazy, trying to do so many things all at once,” Deanna said, shrugging out of her white coat and hanging it on a hook on the back of the supply-room door, only to miss the hook and watch it slither to the floor.
“How do you keep up with it? Actually, how did your grandfather keep up with it? And he didn’t use a computer for the paperwork.” She’d seen five scheduled patients and three who’d just walked in. Plus two telephone consults. And Beau had doubled that during his afternoon.
“It’s not meant to sway you but I keep up with it by avoiding the personal things that can get in the way. Like chitchat. I’ve found that if you ask Mrs. Milford how her cat’s feeling today, or inquire about the status of Mr. Blanchard’s latest carpentry undertaking, they’ll tell you. At length. My grandfather did that, and I don’t recall him ever seeming rushed. But it rushes me then I get grumpy, and all that shoots the day right out from under me. So, no chitchat.”
Bending to pick up the lab coat, she felt a sharp jab in her back and gasped. “But he got through the day chitchatting and still delivered good medicine. So tell me how he did that, because I’d like to know.” She grabbed the coat and straightened up, still fighting the kink that seemed to be becoming a permanent part of her back lately.
“You OK?” Beau asked, stepping up to her and grabbing hold as she finally made it back to fully upright.
“Nothing a nice long soak in a tub full of hot water wouldn’t cure.” Except, like horseback riding, that was off limits.
“Got a hot tub, if you’re interested.”
And it sounded so tempting, unfortunately... “Thanks, but there’s one up at the cabin, if I want to use it.” Which she wouldn’t.
“Let me guess. You avoid hot tubs the way you do horseback rides?”
“What I avoid is wasting time, which is what we’re doing, especially since I’d like to get your house calls done before tomorrow morning.”
“And dinner,” he reminded her. “There’s a little roadside stop halfway back from our last house call, and it overlooks, well...” He pointed out the window to the mountains. “More of that, only closer.”
More of that was exactly what she needed. After such a short time here, she was already becoming addicted to the area—the mountains and trees, the lovely little stream that ran through the valley. Even the birds.
Except for the isolation, it was everything she wanted, not just for herself but for Emily’s baby. It crossed her mind that if she did tell Beau this baby was his, he might want shared custody. Which meant Emily’s baby would have all this, provided Beau stayed here. It was something to consider, one thing amongst so many.
“It sounds lovely,” she said, heading to the door. “I’m going to run back to my cabin, change my shoes, splash some water on my face, and I’ll be good to go. And maybe by the time we’re on our way I’ll have an idea of what
to do about the patients who stop in without appointments, because you’d have been in the clinic for hours still if I hadn’t been there to help.”
“I think a few people came out just to see you. Normally I don’t have so many minor casualties.”
“But today you did, and that’s the problem. What if I hadn’t been here and you’d had that many people waiting, plus your house calls?
“And, Beau, you’re using the computer, which is good, but the problem is it takes ten minutes to get a patient checked in and out, and you’re doing that yourself. It’s something a medical receptionist could do, if you had one.” Which really did sway her to his side, she had to admit.
Beau held up his hands in mock surrender, smiled, and said nothing.
“OK, point taken. You’re not going to comment. I get it.”
“You’re right. No comment. I’ll just say go get ready for house calls, and I’ll pick you up in thirty minutes. OK? And, Deanna...thanks. I’m not sure everything here is solvable, but I appreciate having someone who can see what frustrates me. And, no, that’s not meant to sway you either. It’s just a statement of fact and a hope that you can stay and figure out how to fix it because I know what I want, but I may be a little too involved to be as objective as I should be.”
“You’re not old-school medicine the way Brax is. Country GP has taken on a new definition, and Brax just hasn’t come round to that. Which is fine because it works for him. But you’re the new breed and that’s good in so far as medical advances go, although I think in ways it’s also a limiting on the personal level. The problem’s easy enough to spot, although I’m not sure how easy it’s going to be to fix. But medical solutions are what I do, so we’ll see.”
“Medical solutions, and making my day better. I’m probably going to thank you a thousand times over the next few weeks for doing this.”
She smiled then waved him a quick goodbye and sprinted out the door. For what it was worth, he’d made her day better, too. Not just because he’d let her work in a different aspect of medicine than she was accustomed to but because he’d allowed her to see things she needed to see.
“I like your daddy,” she said to the baby as she sped up the road to the cabin. “Now all we have to do is figure out if you’ll ever have the opportunity to like him as well.”
* * *
Late afternoon had taken on a cool edge, and Beau inhaled the pure mountain air deeply. It was good being home. He wasn’t sure he could live up to the expectations of being the area’s doctor but he didn’t regret his temporary change of life.
He had big shoes to fill, though. Huge shoes, and most of the time people simply thought of him as the kid. Brax’s grandson. Juvenile delinquent. So maybe his youthful reputation here hadn’t been stellar, but Brax had handled it...had handled him. And he owed the old man more than he could repay.
He just wasn’t sure, though, he could replace him. And that was the problem. If he stayed, new ways would have to replace the old. Deanna was seeing that, working directly in the middle of it. And he trusted her to make the right decisions.
But his grandfather was so resistant. Probably resentful that what had worked perfectly for him was being pushed aside. And there was no way in hell he would hurt his grandfather. That was the bottom line. In which case, maybe it would be easier to simply hire a doctor to come in and do the job at hand, and work with what was there, what was already established.
Someone else wouldn’t be so...restless. And he was restless. Since his marriage and divorce, since his near—and fake—brush with fatherhood, it was like his world had turned upside down and had never quite righted itself. He wanted this life, he wanted his life back in New York. Wanted to be a country GP, wanted to be a surgeon. At the same time he didn’t have a clue what he wanted.
So much indecision, all a year or more in the making, and he was no closer to figuring out what he was going to do now than he’d been a year ago when he’d come home.
And Deanna? He wasn’t sure what he expected from her. Maybe someone who would support some tough changes that would have to happen if he stayed. Or support his decision to leave, if that’s what it came to.
Maybe, though, she was a distraction. Something to take his mind off the things he didn’t want to think about.
Whatever the case, Brax was on his way to town for the evening, and as he helped his grandfather out to the pick-up truck, Beau’s gaze inadvertently went up to the ridge where Deanna’s cabin loomed over the back acreage. Rather than looking away, he let himself stare for a moment—stare and wonder about the woman up there. She wasn’t here to do what she claimed. He knew that and he believed she knew he knew. For now the illusion would stand, but he was curious.
* * *
“I can see why you’d enjoy coming out here to make house calls,” Deanna said. She was seated next to Beau in his four-wheel-drive SUV, glad they were in something woods-worthy. “I’m not a deep-woods kind of a girl, but this is lovely.”
Trees were so dense that the fading daylight trickled in only in ribbons. The undergrowth of rhododendrons with their lush purple flowers grew expansively under the thick green canopy. And there was a richness to the air that she’d never known could exist. These were the areas she cared about in her work yet they were areas she rarely ever saw, and being out in the thick of it made her feel very limited by her academic focus.
Deanna was gaining, first hand, a totally new understanding of what medical life in these isolated areas was like, and it made her wonder how much she was missing, both professionally and personally.
“It’s a different way of life,” Beau said. “When I was a kid, I couldn’t wait to get out of here. But now it’s nice to be back. Makes me realize just how hectic it is in the city.”
“You thrive on hectic, though, don’t you?”
“I thrive on work. If it’s hectic, that’s fine because it keeps me away from...”
“A personal life?” she ventured.
“I excel in medicine, but I don’t excel in the personal. When I was a kid I was...let’s call it antisocial. Found a certain confidence in it, I think.”
“Yes, you did mention you were a troublemaker.”
He chuckled. “I like to think of it as being a result of my father, but the reality is I was just a brat. That was my nature. But Brax taught me how to turn that into hard work, and showed me how hard work paid off. It was a better way.”
“Then being at odds with him the way you are now makes you feel, what? Guilty?”
“Very perceptive, Nurse Lambert.”
“Doesn’t take a lot of perception to see it. But what I also see is two very stubborn men who are fighting not to meet in the middle.” Would that stubbornness pass along to the baby?
“I’ve practiced medicine outside Sugar Creek, he hasn’t.”
“Which makes you right...in your opinion.”
“Which makes me right as far as the way I want to work here. If I stay.”
“So what it boils down to is your way or you leave. And you’re hoping that my presence, and my professional recommendations, will substantiate your way.” Yes, very stubborn. But it was laced with determination and dedication, and she liked that quality in him. She hoped that, more than the stubbornness, would carry through to the baby.
“When you put it that way, it sounds pretty confrontational, doesn’t it?” He slowed the SUV where the road turned into a barely passable path, then killed the engine. “Oh, and from here we walk. But it’s only about a quarter-mile.”
“Seriously, people live out here? How do they get in and out?”
“Back road. It’s shorter, and steeper, and hell on a vehicle’s suspension, so I prefer the longer, slower, easier road. And it’s a pleasant walk, by the way.”
“It had better be,” she grumbled good-naturedly, grabbing her
medical bag then sliding down to the ground. “Because this wasn’t in my job description.” Although, truth be told, she was looking forward to the hike. Working on her feet all day had only made her crave more and, for someone who spent a good part of her days at a computer, this was just what she and the baby needed.
“And, yes, it does sound confrontational. But sometimes we have to draw our line in the sand and stick to it, don’t we? Even if the person on the other side is someone you love. Makes life interesting, I think.”
“You’re very cagey,” he said, taking her medical kit and strapping it onto the backpack he’d slung over his shoulder. “And I have an idea if Brax had gotten to you first, you’d be wholeheartedly on his side.”
“I don’t take sides in my work. I do have opinions...objective opinions I offer the people who need my ideas. And subjective opinions, which I keep to myself. But it’s always about what’s best for the medical community as a whole.”
“But you favor Brax.” Statement, not question.
“I favor whatever works best for Sugar Creek. I haven’t seen enough yet to decide what I think it is. But I’ll warn you it’s going to involve compromises on both sides. Experience has taught me the best solution always does.”
He laughed. “Like I said, cagey.”
“Been called worse,” she said, taking hold of the hand he extended her at the trail head and stepping lightly over the trunk of a fallen tree on which countless people had carved initials. She studied it for a moment. Smiled. Thought about all the people who’d hiked this trail before. Wondered about their names.
“Are your initials there?” she asked, once they cleared the spot and he’d let go of her.
“Nope. You carve your initials and that’s...permanence. Not sure I’m ready for that yet.”
