HAVING HIS CHILD

by Amy J. Fetzer

  When she returned the following day, she found the same meal still on the stove, the house still spotless. Panic jumped through her, and she reached for the phone, dialing his practice. In a few minutes she learned that Lucas had been at the hospital for two days. She tossed out the uneaten meal, and a half-hour later she was on the pediatrics floor, moving through the clinic to the ward beyond.

  She smiled at Sandy and stopped at the desk. "May I go in?"

  "I don't think that would be a problem." Sandy leaned closer, her voice low. "Maybe you can get him out of there and convince him to eat something, at least."

  "I plan to," Angela said, then quietly pushed into the room. Three beds were empty, but the one by the window held a little girl with gold blond hair. Lucas was slumped in the chair beside the bed, asleep.

  Angela's heart spun with pride, and she wondered if anyone really knew how dedicated he was. This wasn't the first time he'd pulled on all-nighter with a young patient. And he was known for personally calling patients' parents with test results, hounding labs to not make the families wait. She remembered once when a patient hadn't come in for a follow-up, he'd driven to the boy's home and discovered that the father had had to work and the mother was without a car or money to get the boy to the hospital. Lucas had taken the child and his mother in himself, then driven them home, with a stop at a fast food-chain on the way home. He was caring and sensitive to the children of this town. He spoke at schools on career day and spent two days a month at the retirement homes, checking blood pressure and just listening to complaints. His actions, his constant dedication made her admire him more and understand that his career was his world. His only true commitment.

  Taking a couple steps, she reached the foot of the bed and looked at the little girl, her heart breaking at the sight. She couldn't be more than five or six, her breathing even but shallow. There were a half dozen tubes running in and out of her, yet the heart monitor wasn't hooked up. That was a positive sign, she thought, but really didn't know enough to judge.

  Gently, she touched Lucas. He roused slowly, blinking, rubbing his palm across his forehead as he straightened. He stood immediately, hovering over the child, flipping out his penlight and checking her eyes, then her pulse. He sighed dispiritedly and listened to her heart for a second or two, then turned.

  He stopped short when he saw her. Then he smiled. "Ange."

  It sounded as if he'd just been tossed a lifeline on a sinking ship. "Hey, medicine man. You look beat."

  He ran his fingers through his already mussed hair. "I'm okay."

  Her gaze moved over his clothes. "And like you've slept in those."

  "I didn't really have time to go home."

  "Can I talk you into a taking a break for a little bit?"

  His brows rose with surprise, then his expression saddened. He looked at the child. "I don't know…"

  "I'll sit with her, Dr. Ryder." A voice came from the doorway as one of the second-year student nurses stepped inside.

  He nodded. "I'll be just down the hall. Buzz me if there's any change."

  The young woman nodded and took a seat beside the bed. She lifted a storybook from the stack on the side table and began reading. They left the room, but before he could do much else, Angela maneuvered him into the doctor's lounge.

  He barely noticed.

  Angela pushed him into the sofa, then sat, focusing on the cooler and duffel bag she'd left on the coffee table before going into the ward.

  Lucas watched her unload piles of food, unwrapping sandwiches, apples and milk. "So what brought on this burst of charity?"

  "Well … my temper, actually." She flashed him a quick smile. "I was shoot-fire angry because I'd thought you were patronizing me by cleaning up your house." He opened his mouth to speak but she put up a hand to stop him, pressing a sandwich into his hand. "This morning I realized you hadn't been home to mess it up."

  From the duffel bag she brought out chips and a thermos of fresh coffee Lucas knew was way better than the stuff sitting on the burner all day. "So if I wasn't here—" he pointed to the floor with the sandwich "—you would have bashed me with a frying pan next time I saw you. Do I have that right?"

  "Yup, would have cold-cocked you a good one."

  He smiled tiredly. "I wouldn't patronize you, Ange." He bit into the sandwich, the first taste making him hungrier for more.

  "Took me a bit to realize that." She poured him a cup of coffee, handing it over before she fished in the bag again. "I brought your shaving gear, and in there—" she pointed to the locker with his name stenciled on it "—is a fresh change of clothes." She set the shave kit on the table.

  Lucas gazed at her, deeply touched that she'd worried about him enough to come by and check. More so that she knew exactly what he needed right now. None of the women he'd been with had done anything like this, and if he didn't know how special she was to him before, he did now.

  He reached out, closing his hand over hers. "You didn't have to do this."

  "I know." She squeezed his fingers. "But you needed backup and you would never ask for it."

  He brought her hand to his lips, giving it a soft kiss. "Thanks, Ange."

  Angela stared at his mouth on her hand, entranced by the sight. Her heart did a quick tumble in her chest, and she realized she wanted him to keep going, trailing his mouth up her arm … to her lips. Her breathing increased. Her skin warmed. Don't think about it, she told herself.

  "You're welcome," she managed to say, then pulled free to pour herself a cup of coffee. Wrapping the cup in her hands, she blew on the hot liquid when she really wanted to reach over and brush his hair off his brow, massage his shoulders because he looked so strained and tired. "You should take a shower. It won't do her parents any good to see you like this."

  She was right, of course. Slowly, he told her about the little blond girl. That she'd slipped on a trampoline and hit her head. She had a severe concussion and she hadn't woken in two days. Lucas was scared she never would.

  "She will. She has the best doctor watching over her," she said, laying her hand on his upper arm.

  He smiled weakly. "I've done everything I could and called in the neurologist, but it's just wait and see. God, I hate telling parents that." Every time he did he felt as if he wasn't doing enough.

  "But it's all you can do, Lucas. You've exhausted your options."

  He swallowed the last bite and dusted his fingertips, then reached for the carton of milk, draining it without stopping. Then he picked up his shaving gear, took his clothes from the locker and headed to the bathroom. He paused, looking back. "Can you hang around a bit?" She was his only bright spot today.

  She glanced at her watch. "Sure, I have time before I go on the air."

  He nodded and slipped into the bathroom. A few minutes later he came out wearing dark slacks and a button-down shirt with a fresh lab coat. And he was smiling. He was taking a last sip of coffee when Sandy popped her head in.

  Lucas tensed and set the cup down. Angela stood slowly.

  Sandy smiled. "She's awake, talking, and her parents are here."

  Lucas grinned, and as the nurse disappeared he instinctively reached for Angela out of sheer want and pulled her roughly into his arms.

  "Oh, Luc, I'm so happy for you and for her." He knew she meant it. He closed his eyes, knowing that every victory in his life, even the small ones, had meant more because she was here to share them with him.

  * * *

  Chapter 6

  « ^ »

  Lucas was late for the game, having spent the last hour counseling an intern over his lack of bedside manner with his young patients. Pushing the thought out of his mind, he tossed his jacket into the back seat of his car, then loosened his tie as he hurried toward the ball field. The KROC radio station was playing a softball game against the Savannah Sand Gnats for charity. KROC was losing by three runs, yet no one seemed to care.

  Climbing up next to Angela's sister, he smiled at Meg, then searched the field
for Angela at her position at first base. He grinned. Dressed in a green uniform, her cap pulled low, she was bent over, shifting from side to side, punching her fist into her mitt and hollering at the batter. She looked great, except for the golf-ball-size wad of gum in her mouth making her cheeks bulge.

  He hadn't seen her in nearly a week, yet he'd thought about her constantly, about how she'd come to him when he needed someone, how she was the only one who had noticed he wasn't around. And how much he'd wanted more from her. He suspected she was avoiding him, considering every time they got on the subject of her mommy plan they fought.

  The batter made a strike, and Angela called him a name, teasing him. He winked at her, then pointed the bat toward the outfield, and Lucas heard Angela shout, "In your dreams, buddy," before the player swung. The crack silenced the crowd as the ball went high but not far. Angela watched it sail, her attention on catching the pop fly and not on the runner.

  Nor was the runner watching where he was going. Lucas rose slowly as the minor-league player plowed right into Angela, bringing her off her feet and sending her flying backward. She hit the ground hard.

  And she didn't move.

  Oh, God.

  Lucas was off the bleachers and hurdling over the fence in seconds. Players crowded around her, calling her name. The hitter was on his knees beside her, apologizing and taking the glove off her hand.

  "Don't touch her!" Luc yelled, pushing his way through the people. "I'm a doctor." He knelt beside her. "Angela?" He took her pulse, then checked her mouth for that wad of gum. Relieved that it wasn't lodged in her throat, he realized she wasn't getting any air. Her solar plexus was tight and contracted. Panic shot through him as he bent over her, quickly checking her neck for breaks. He spread her arms, tipped her head back and started CPR. The instant he pressed on her chest, her eyes flashed open as she gasped for breath over and over, yet couldn't get any air into her lungs. Lucas slid his hand under her back and lifted her slightly as she sucked in a huge gulp, then tried to capture more air.

  Relief overwhelmed him, choking his heartbeat. She'd just had the wind knocked out of her, but still she hadn't moved much.

  "Stay still," he told her when she tried sitting up. "Just try to breathe slowly, in short breaths, till your solar plexus expands."

  Angela coughed and rolled to her side, moaning.

  "Don't move!"

  "I'm all right, Doc. See?" She sat up straight, coughing and still trying to breathe.

  "Where does it hurt?"

  "Nowhere, Lucas." Pain laced the back of her head, and she rubbed it. "I'm all right."

  "The hell you are," he growled, and scooped her in his arms and stood.

  "Lucas," she said, frowning at his concern and chalking it up to a doctor thing. "Put me down."

  "Forget it." He strode across the field toward the first aid booth.

  "You're being overly cautious." The crowd cheered, and Angela waved over his shoulder at them, smiling as her head throbbed.

  "I'm a doctor, it's my job to be alert, dammit."

  At that, her brows drew down, and she noticed his features, more than concern making them harsh. And his heart was pounding so hard she could feel it thrum into her skin. And she knew he wasn't winded.

  She looped her arm around his neck and swore his heart sped faster.

  What was up? He wouldn't look at her, his lips pulled tight, his pace nearly a run. He'd seen her injured before. She was notorious for being the only person to leave a ball field limping when everyone else came away unscathed.

  Then he turned his head and met her gaze.

  Angela was struck dead in the chest at the look in his eyes. Concern and fear, sure, but there was something else, a glitter she'd never seen before. And it fairly shouted at her. Demanded she see it. But she just wasn't sure and longed to know exactly what lay hidden behind his ice-blue eyes. She'd always been able to read Lucas. Better than anyone. Better than himself. But lately, she felt as if she were walking in fog when she was around him. His attitude toward her was changing, and for the first time in fifteen years, she didn't know what to expect next.

  * * *

  Lucas held her tightly, relishing the feel of her in his arms while trying to get a handle on his fear. He was a physician, used to emergencies, yet the picture of her hitting the ground and not moving kept flashing through his mind like a tape on rewind, torturing him. He'd felt helpless for those few seconds. God, if she'd broken her neck, if she'd died playing a stupid ball game, he knew he'd never survive.

  Angela was a part of him. A big part. If he lost her… He couldn't even think about it without feeling as if emptiness was strangling him.

  He ducked into the first aid tent and laid her on the cot, kneeling beside her. The emergency medical technician on duty handed over his equipment as Lucas examined her.

  "I'm going to allow this, Lucas, because you don't want to take my word for it that I'm all right."

  "Good. Because I'm doing it anyway." With a penlight, he studied her eyes, frowning as the tech removed her cleats. He sent the EMT out for ice packs for the bruise on the back of her head.

  "Gee, this is the first time we've played doctor." His gaze flashed to hers. She was smiling. He wasn't.

  "Hey, lighten up."

  "You could have broken your neck."

  "Yes, maybe, but I could have done that walking down the stairs, so don't go doing the 'you shouldn't be playing ball' routine on me."

  "And if you're pregnant?" he said in a low voice. She inhaled. Coming from him, the words sounded so intimate, so sexy, conjuring images of getting that way with him. She swallowed and pushed the picture out of her mind. Making love to her best friend was out of the question because she wanted more and he didn't. Ever. "Not that it's your business, but I haven't had the procedure yet, Lucas." Was that relief she saw in his eyes?

  "You know you can't be doing this kind of stuff once you are."

  "I hadn't planned on playing ball while I was pregnant."

  "You're still determined to go through with it, though, aren't you?"

  She shoved him back when he went to examine her eyes again. "Good grief, Luc, are you looking for an excuse to infuriate me?"

  "Of course not. I'm trying to be realistic, because apparently you can't be." They were silent as the tech came in and handed over the ice pack, then left. Lucas pressed it to the back of her head, and she winced.

  "I don't want to discuss this now." She sat up, holding the ice pack as she swung her legs over the side of the cot.

  "Okay, fine. But you have to come to the hospital with me."

  "No way." Not when he was acting like this, she thought, then stood. Instantly she swayed, dropping the pack and reaching for him. He caught her, and she braced her hands on his upper arms and tried to clear her vision.

  "You might have a slight concussion, Ange. We need to get an X ray."

  "A concussion? You're overreacting."

  He shook his head slowly.

  And she remembered the little blond girl who'd walked into the hospital, climbed into bed and hadn't woken for days. Angela rubbed the back of her head. It wasn't bleeding, nor was there much of a lump rising, but she'd have a hell of a headache by tonight

  "Let me be sure, okay?"

  The concern in his eyes touched her soul, and she agreed. At least he wasn't hounding her with his opinion on artificial insemination anymore. She had just enough money saved for the first procedure, and she wasn't going to change her plans. Not when that was all she had. "Fine. Let's go."

  After she put on her cleats, they left the ballpark and headed to the hospital. Lucas didn't leave her side, scowling darkly, pacing while they waited for the X rays to be developed, then bringing her into the room as the radiologist read the films. She didn't have a concussion, but Lucas suggested she stay overnight. The radiologist agreed.

  "Forget it. I'm not wasting bed space for this."

  "Angela. You have jostled your brain," he gritted through clenched
teeth, advancing on her till she was up against the exam table. Her heart leaped into her throat as his body pressed into hers and she saw heat flicker in his eyes before his expression closed and he took a step back.

  She fought the urge to grope for him, bring him harder against her, and said, "Come on, Lucas, this is silly." It was her day off from the radio station and her Wife Incorporated job, and she wasn't going to spend it in a hospital bed, bored to tears.

  "Will it be silly if you fall asleep and never wake up?"

  Good grief, he was such a downer today.

  "Do you trust my judgment as a physician?" he asked softly.

  The question seemed to lay their trust on the line, and she pressed her palm to his cheek, gazing into his blue eyes. "Of course I do, darlin'. You're the best."

  Her touch sent tremors of heat through to his bones, and before Luc did something stupid, he grasped her hand and gave her knuckles a quick kiss. "Then check in for the night."

  "It's a waste of nurses and doctors when they could be attending to people who really need help. How about I go home and promise to rest and watch movies, be a slug?"

  He thought about that for a second. "Agreed, but not alone. I'm staying the night."

  At the thought of him sleeping in her house, her skin flushed beneath her baseball uniform. "Babysitting? Now who doesn't trust who?"

  "I know you, Angela, you won't behave. You never do."

  She had to smile at that, then nodded, pushing away from the exam table. "I'm going to warn you, though. I'll be a princess, a real diva. Make you wait on me hand and foot. You know, paint my toenails, peel me grapes." He grinned. "That'll teach you to try to be the boss of me."

  Chuckling to himself as they walked to the door, Lucas knew he'd have to sit on her to keep her from doing everything herself. "I get to choose the movies then."

  "Deal."

  They left the hospital, Lucas's arm tucked around her waist when she swayed a bit. Her cleats made a click click on the tile floor, the metered tap counting off like a ticking clock. For Angela, it seemed to chant his name with the beat of her heart, and she leaned into his warmth, wanting so much more and not daring to take it.