by Dianne Drake
Now she was trapped between Beau and Brax. More involvement, more personal conflict to deal with.
“In a limited way, maybe. And that’s very limited, Brax, because you still have a way to go before you’re ready to step back in fully.”
“You mean the cane?” he asked, holding it up.
“Yes, the cane. But also the attitude, the stubbornness. And right now I don’t think the two of you could work together. Not without some pretty close...” Deanna smiled sympathetically. “Let’s just call it supervision.”
“More like refereeing,” Beau said from the doorway. “And, no, he’s not working. Do you hear me, Brax?” He raised his voice for emphasis. “You’re not working.”
She glanced up to see Beau filling the doorframe, and her heart clutched. For a moment she wondered what it would be like to simply stay here and be part of all this. Would she be able to keep the secret and still live her life? That was pure fantasy, pregnancy nesting hormones kicking in.
Still, that’s why she’d gotten herself involved in a family struggle that really wasn’t any of her business. She wanted to nest. Or settle in. Or sit in front of that massive stone fireplace in the great room up in Brax’s house and knit baby booties for the next seven months...even though she didn’t know how to knit.
“Is this where the argument begins?” she asked. “Because I may side with your grandfather on this one.”
“No arguments right now. Not enough time. Nell’s giving birth right now and I thought you might want to come and see,” Beau said, backing out the door. “Don’t have patients coming for an hour yet, so...” He shrugged. “Either of you care to join me?”
“I’d love to watch,” Deanna said, turning off the coffee pot and heading out the door behind Beau. With Brax right behind her.
“It’s best to watch her quietly from a place where she can’t hear or see you,” Beau explained, as they entered the next stall over. “A mare gets nervous when too many people hover around, watching. They’d rather give birth where it’s secluded and peaceful.”
“That’s the way I want to do it,” Deanna commented, then realized that Beau, Brax and Joey were all staring at her. “It makes sense. Mozart playing in the background, dimmed lights...”
Beau studied her for a moment then smiled. “Nancy always said she wanted to be drugged so hard she wouldn’t wake up for a couple of days.”
“She wanted designer hospital gowns, too,” Brax snorted. “And her beautician on standby. So...” He directed his stare at Deanna. “It’s true what they’re saying about you?”
“Yes, it’s true. I’m pregnant. And just so you’ll know right up front, there’s no father in the picture.”
“Unfortunate,” Brax said. “But people are making their various choices these days, aren’t they? And single parenting is one of them.”
“Single parenting means that when I give birth I’ll have the only say. Same goes for raising the child as well. That’s the beauty part about doing it without a significant other. There’s no conflict. No one to get in the way.”
“Or to hold your hand when you’re giving birth or going through a rough patch,” Beau said, quietly. “And share the joy.”
“Life’s always about trade-offs, isn’t it?” she said as the miracle of life unfolded quickly in the next stable. It had only been five minutes, and mama was on her side now, with her baby emerging into the world, kicking its way out of its placenta. All so quickly, all so beautifully. And this was going to happen to her.
It was hard to believe that very soon she’d be doing what Nell had just done. Instinctively, her hand slid to her belly. She felt so close to Emily’s baby right now. And Beau’s baby. That was something she couldn’t forget.
“Baby’s breathing fine,” Joey called over the stall railing. “Everything’s looks good. I think we need to give them some bonding time...alone.”
Maybe that was true, but Deanna didn’t want to leave. Watching something so simple yet so magical caused unexpected emotions to well up inside her. This was a horse...an animal. And she was already bonding with her baby. Such a natural thing, and it gave Deanna hope that the same kind of instinct would soon take over in her. If not during the pregnancy then at birth, the way it was unfolding with Nell, who was already nuzzling her baby, already being a mother in every way that mattered.
“I’ll come back in a little while to make sure everything is going the way it should,” Joey said, shooing them out of the stable.
“So, back to the clinic,” Brax said, staring Beau straight in the eye.
“What did you say to him?” Beau asked, as Brax set off toward the clinic like a man with a purpose, and they lingered behind.
“Well, for starters, I told him I’m on his side about working. Not a full schedule but something abbreviated. And I told him he’s stubborn, and grumpy, and some other things that don’t matter.”
“Well, you’ve got the touch. That’s all I can say. Something about you has the charm to soothe a savage old doctor.”
“I listened to him. It’s a simple thing, really. You just put aside your point of view and hear what the other person is saying.”
“When you say you, you mean...”
“You. Your grandfather is scared of becoming irrelevant. What he sees happening is that you’re telling him his clinic already is. Then when you refuse to let him come back to work...”
“But the man has worked all his life. He’s got a lot of good years left, and he should be enjoying them, not working through them.”
“Unless enjoying them and working through them are the same things for him. But you’ve never asked him about that, have you?”
“I don’t have to. I inherited his obsession with work, and I’m fighting like hell to get away from some of it because it will destroy everything. I mean, I never even noticed what kind of woman I married. Didn’t take enough time to get to know her before the wedding, hardly ever saw her afterwards because I was working damned hard to establish my career.
“My examples in life were Brax and my father, and I turned out to be like Brax, either by heredity or choice. Or a little of both. Either way, I’m fighting against that kind of obsession because I don’t want to end up alone and bitter like him.”
“Except he’s not alone. You’re here, and I think that’s what he wants.”
“Yeah, right. By trying to push me away.”
“Or by trying to force you to fit into a system of medical practice he believes won’t make him irrelevant.” She shrugged. “It’s hard being pushed aside. I was raised by good people who took care of my basic needs, but I was an obligation to their family, not a welcomed addition, and I got pushed aside all the time. So I understand where Brax is coming from.”
Walking over the grass, she stubbed her toe on a small tree root sticking out of the ground and pitched forward slightly. Before she could right herself, she felt his protective arm slide around her waist then tighten, indicating he wasn’t going to let go of her.
And she liked it. Too much. She also wished they could walk much further together like this, rather than the few hundred yards left to them. A little was a lot, though. She was grateful for it. Scared as well.
Mostly, though, she was just enjoying the moment.
CHAPTER SEVEN
“BRAX AND JOEY are staying in for the evening. Brax is sharpening up his scalpel or something, getting ready to go back to work tomorrow after an hour in the clinic learning, or should I say fighting, the computer system, and Joey isn’t going too far away from the stables. But I do appreciate the dinner invitation.” Beau placed a bottle of sparkling grape juice on the counter then added, “And fifteen minutes is ample notice.”
“I thought about inviting you earlier, but then...”
She didn’t blame him for being peevish. Lettin
g someone know they were an afterthought would make most people peevish. Except Beau hadn’t been an afterthought. In fact, she’d spent the entire day going back and forth on whether or not to invite him, and she’d come close at least a dozen times as they’d brushed shoulders in the clinic.
The only reason he was here now was that Arthur had guilted her into picking up the phone.
“Then I wondered if it was wise to turn a professional relationship into something else.”
“Something else? In only a few days you’ve slipped into my life like nobody ever has before. And not just my professional life. So what the hell do you call that?”
“Making the best of a difficult situation,” she responded, much too quickly. “I’m working for you, Beau, and something I never recommend when I consult is fraternization. It makes things...unmanageable when professional turns to personal.”
“Good show, Deanna,” Arthur quipped from his stool at the kitchen counter. “I’d say you’re spot on with that point.”
“And this is Sugar Creek, Tennessee. Personal and professional is all one and the same.”
“I will say Beau has a point,” Arthur commented.
“Which is why the people here in town think you’re too stand-offish? Because it’s all one and the same?”
“She’s got you there, my boy.” Arthur twisted to watch them spar.
“That’s different. They’re patients, and it’s always wise to keep a professional distance from your patients.”
“Like your grandfather never did?” Arthur asked.
“My grandfather grew up in a different medical era,” Beau retorted, but to Arthur, not Deanna. “Back in the day when the good old GP was like part of the family.”
“Which doesn’t seem bad to me. In fact, I used to look forward to his house calls because I enjoyed a good game of chess and a pleasant hour of stimulating conversation. Which, by the way, I don’t get from you. All you do is lecture me about my blood pressure and tell me to cut back on salt or butter. That lecturing is probably why my blood pressure shoots up the moment you walk in the door. You stress me out with your professionalism, son. Which means you’re part of my medical problem, not my medical solution.”
A huge grin crossed Arthur’s face, and to emphasize the rightness of what he’d just said he folded his arms across his chest and simply stared.
It was Deanna who took up the cause, but not by coming to Beau’s defense. “Brax put in his first hour today and, with any luck, he’ll be able to increase that gradually. Not sure in what capacity, as I think that’s something Brax and Beau have to work out between them. But don’t give up on those house calls with chess and lively conversation because they might just happen again.”
“Or not,” Beau argued.
“Can’t you sympathize with your grandfather for a minute? All his years of experience should count for more than struggling with a computer for an hour.”
“I sympathize. But can’t you also understand that I’m worried?”
“And quite rigid,” Arthur interjected. “Which is why Deanna had qualms about inviting you for dinner this evening. You positively emanate stress, which can’t be good for her baby.”
“Then I should go,” Beau said, and immediately headed for the door. But Deanna caught up to him just as he stepped outside.
“That’s not what it’s about,” she said before he reached the steps leading down to the walkway. “Arthur’s only trying to protect me, and I appreciate it. But it’s not about stress you’re causing me. I really did want to invite you, but I do wonder about crossing over the professional line, Beau. I know I’ve already done that here and...” she shrugged “...it’s confusing.”
“Why?” He turned to face her. “Why is it confusing?”
“Because I don’t get involved that way. When you put yourself into the middle of some kind of personal relationship, expectations start to build. Before you know it, those expectations take root, and they become part of the real you and not just the you who processes them in and out of her life as fast as she can so she won’t get hurt. And when I say you, I mean me.”
“Have you been hurt that much, Deanna?” he asked, his momentary anger already gone. “Hurt so much or so badly you’d rather be alone?”
“Nobody would rather be alone. That’s not how we’re made. But...” She glanced in at Arthur, who was making merry with a bottle of wine. He might be a party of one in the world, but nothing about that man smacked of aloneness because he was simply part of the universe and it showed in everything he did.
“But that’s how life turns out sometimes, and you can either let it wear you down or make the most of it. The thing is, you’ve got Brax and all he wants is for you to be there. And you can’t see that because you’re too busy pushing him aside, like I told you earlier, and convincing yourself it’s for your own good.”
“I’m not pushing him aside. Just letting him recover. There’s a difference.”
“Not to Brax there’s not. Can you imagine what it feels like to wake up one day with everything ahead of you, and find it all gone the next time you wake up? I know you had a rocky childhood with the way your dad was, but there wasn’t a day of it you didn’t have that man who’s down there, sharpening his scalpels. It doesn’t matter who we have. What matters is that we have someone. And you’re throwing that away because you’re both so much alike.
“What is it about him that you detest or loathe or despise so much that you’re not willing to concede even an inch?”
“I don’t detest, loathe or despise anyone, Deanna. I love that old man.” He swallowed hard. “And I almost lost him. When they called me and told me he’d had a stroke and was in Intensive Care... I had a dad who came and went, did what he wanted whenever he wanted, and I never figured into his life. But Brax, he was...larger than life. Strong. Then he had a stroke and...”
She laid a hand on his arm. “He still is larger than life, Beau. And strong. You can’t protect him from the life he wants, though, and I’m not sure you should. Medicine is what he loves, and all he can see is that you’re trying to deprive him of it. Reasons don’t matter, and when the emotions are as strong as his, and yours, I’m not even sure the reasons are getting heard.”
Her stomach churned over her own words, because Beau had wanted children. She knew that now. And she was having his baby yet depriving him of it. So maybe it was time to tell him and let it be what it was meant to be. Take her own advice and include him. “Um, Beau, while we’re on the subject...”
“My blood sugar is getting low,” Arthur called through the door. “Wasn’t the invitation to include dinner? Or did you two out there forget that I’m in here, practically starving?”
Deanna smiled, partly relieved, partly annoyed.
“Five minutes to get it on the table,” she called back, then shrugged apologetically at Beau. But it wasn’t a silent apology that he understood, maybe not one he even saw. No matter. There’d be another time. A better time. Or maybe she’d talk herself out of the whole folly and go back to the notion that he’d made an anonymous donation because he’d wanted to be anonymous.
“I did sort of forget he was here,” she whispered before they went back into the cabin.
“Of course you did,” Arthur quipped. “Parts of me may be going, but my eyes and ears are still very good, my dear. Keep that in mind if you two want to wander off and whisper sweet nothings.”
“Not us,” Deanna said, swooping past him to grab the salad from the fridge. “We’re colleagues and...” She glanced at Beau and smiled. “Just friends.”
“Anything you say,” Arthur retorted, grabbing a breadstick and giving her a smug grin. “As long as you believe it, that’s all that matters, isn’t it? But I suppose, as they say, for a tree to become tall it must grow tough roots among the rocks. Your roots will grow tough
enough to accept what you need to, my dear.”
“Friedrich Nietzsche,” she said. “Smart man. But put away your imagination for a while and take this bowl of salad over to the table.” She pushed it into his hands and winked at Beau, who was standing in the doorway, simply watching.
“Ah, the course of young love seldom runs smooth,” Arthur said, as he turned his back on her and headed to the table. “I dabbled there a time or two in my misspent youth, maybe a few times since in the subsequent years. Wouldn’t have missed it for the world. In hindsight might have even done a few things differently. And just for future reference, I don’t like being in the middle of a quarrel among my friends so, please, make love, not war.”
He wiggled bushy eyebrows at them as he placed the salad on the table, then chuckled as he raised his wine glass to his lips and mumbled his next words into the Cabernet Sauvignon. “Just friends, my wrinkled old ass.”
* * *
“Up for a walk?” Beau asked.
From the kitchen window, they were watching Arthur’s tail lights descend the mountain road. Amazingly, he was stone sober. Not even sporting a buzz from the glasses of wine he’d consumed over the past couple of hours.
In fact, he’d left earlier than they’d anticipated, claiming he was inspired to go and paint night life, whatever that would turn out to be. Maybe fireflies. Or maybe the late-night customers trickling into the café in town. Most likely, though, he was leaving early to give them the rest of the evening alone.
Which actually sounded nice to her, relaxing with Beau for a while or even taking that walk. But not for whatever Arthur thought might happen. “Maybe. I did eat an awful lot, didn’t I? Seriously, two pieces of that strawberry cheesecake Arthur brought with him?” She patted her belly. “I’m blaming it on the mountain air. So, yes, let’s go so I can walk off some of the calories.”
“In your defense, those pieces of cheesecake were small. And you are—”
She laughed. “Eating for two. I know it and, trust me, I rely on that excuse a lot. But tonight it was pure gluttony. It’s nice having friends to share a meal with. Something I rarely ever did back home, unless it was with business associates. And what surprised me about this evening is that you didn’t have any house calls or emergencies.”
