by Lisa Dyson
“She said you’re confined to bed because of high blood pressure?”
Paula wished Ashleigh would stop acting like her doctor, but how to phrase it without sounding petulant? Then they’d fight, her blood pressure would rise even higher and once again she would be at fault.
She inhaled deeply and let the breath out slowly before replying. “My doctor is worried about preeclampsia.”
“Rosy Bausch is your doctor?” Ashleigh asked.
Paula nodded.
“How far along are you?”
She didn’t have to think about it. “Thirty-two weeks.” Her doctor had mentioned it several times at her appointment yesterday afternoon.
“Any blurred vision or headaches?”
“No.”
“Abdominal pain?”
“Nope.”
“Good.” Ashleigh set her purse down and opened her medical bag. “Have you been checking your blood pressure?”
Could their conversation be any cooler? “Dr. Bausch wants me to come in to her office weekly.”
“Was your urine protein elevated?”
“No, but she’s going to check that weekly, too.” Paula nearly addressed her sister as Dr. Wilson but caught herself in time. Ashleigh didn’t seem in the mood to appreciate Paula’s sarcasm. “You didn’t have to come,” Paula began.
“Of course I did,” Ashleigh shot back. “You’re my sister.” She paused and leveled her gaze at Paula. “No matter what.” Ashleigh’s lip quivered, her vulnerability finally evident.
So Ashleigh wasn’t as unaffected as she let on.
Paula’s eyes welled up and she swallowed thickly, determined not to cry, even on hormone overload. They should talk—
The front door slammed and the house filled with her seven-year-old’s wails.
“Ryan?” Fear for her child had Paula straightening into a sitting position. She cleared her throat when her voice broke. “I’m in my bedroom. Are you okay?”
Ryan cried harder.
“Paula, stay there.” Ashleigh moved in Ryan’s direction.
“There’s something wrong with him.” Paula spoke through gritted teeth while swinging her legs over the side of the bed.
Ashleigh narrowed her eyes at Paula. “If you don’t lay back down right now, I’m going to call an ambulance and have you admitted to the hospital.”
“That’s ridiculous!”
“It won’t be ridiculous if you go into premature labor,” Ashleigh spit. “Trust me, it’s not an experience you ever want to have.”
* * *
RYAN LIMPED INTO the bedroom, right past Ashleigh. He headed directly to the side of the bed in front of Paula, who hadn’t lain back down but hadn’t rushed to Ryan’s side, either. His forehead was scraped and his jeans were torn at the knee, but more significantly, he cradled his left forearm with his right hand.
Except for being two years older and crying, Ryan looked the same to Ashleigh as he had the last time she’d seen him. Spittin’ image of his dad, as well as his Uncle Kyle.
The lump in her throat kept her from speaking.
“I fell off my bike, Mommy,” he sobbed.
“Tell me where you hurt.” Paula looked about to burst into tears herself.
Ashleigh’s medical training kicked into high gear. She moved in closer and knelt next to Ryan.
“Hi, Ryan.” Ashleigh kept her voice calm. “You might not remember me, but I’m your aunt Ashleigh.”
“Mommy has pictures of you.” Ryan hiccupped, his deep blue eyes reminiscent of his uncle’s.
“How are you feeling?” Ashleigh moved some hair back from his scraped forehead to look closer and felt around the rest of his skull.
“My arm really hurts.” Ryan’s face scrunched as if in pain.
“I’ll bet it does.” Ashleigh spoke gently, her attention now on his arm as she carefully probed the limb. Possibly a simple fracture, but an X-ray would tell for sure. “Do you hurt anywhere else, Ry? Like your neck or back? Your legs, belly?”
Ryan shook his head.
“Do you remember if you fell asleep after you fell?”
“No. I was awake. Only babies take naps.”
“Good.” Ashleigh grinned, then caught Paula’s eye while gathering supplies from her medical bag. “Do you have a scarf or maybe a receiving blanket I can use to immobilize his arm until I can get an X-ray?”
Paula pointed to her dresser. “In the middle drawer are scarves.”
“Hop up here on the bed next to Mommy,” Ashleigh told Ryan. While she cleaned and bandaged Ryan’s head and scraped knee, she spoke to Paula. “I’m going to take him into the hospital for an X-ray.” So much for avoiding her emergency-room-doctor ex-husband.
“Kyle’s not at the hospital today,” Paula said, as if reading her mind. “He mentioned at dinner last night that he took today off to do some painting.”
Ashleigh stiffened. Kyle had been able to maintain a relationship with both their nephews and her sister, but Ashleigh hadn’t even seen a picture of the boys in two years.
She consciously relaxed her neck and shoulders. She shouldn’t be surprised at Kyle’s involvement. He was probably a big help while Scott was deployed.
Retrieving a scarf from the drawer, she wove it under Ryan’s injured arm and tied it behind his neck. “Is Rich Miller still in the building down the street from my old office?”
“As far as I know,” Paula said. “We’ve never needed an orthopedist before.”
“Rich is the best, especially for kids,” Ashleigh said. “Are you okay with him if he’s needed?”
“Yes,” Paula agreed.
Ashleigh didn’t want to scare Ryan by mentioning his arm could be broken. The orthopedist would take over Ryan’s care if the X-ray showed a break.
She turned to her nephew and effortlessly took on her pediatrician persona. “Ryan, you and I are going to go get a special picture taken of your arm so we can see what’s going on inside.”
Ryan’s eyes widened. “Can I see the picture?”
Ashleigh couldn’t contain her smile. “Of course. Now why don’t you use the bathroom while I make sure your mom has everything she needs. Can you manage without using your hurt arm?”
He bobbed his head rapidly, hopped off the bed and skipped out of the room—definitely not the same sobbing child from a few minutes ago.
Ashleigh turned her attention to Paula. “Does he normally play outside by himself?”
Paula’s eyes grew wide at Ashleigh’s not-so-subtle implication. “He went bike riding with his friends, not that it’s any of your business.”
“He’s still my nephew and I’m concerned about his welfare.”
“You haven’t seen him in two years,” Paula whispered angrily.
“That was your choice,” Ashleigh reminded her.
Paula glared at her. “You left town.”
There was so much Ashleigh could say in response, but now was not the time.
“I want to take your blood pressure before I go.” Ashleigh pulled her blood pressure cuff from her bag and attached it to Paula’s arm. Having an injured child was bound to raise anyone’s blood pressure. “Where’s Mark?”
“Playing at a friend’s house.” Paula stiffened, her words curt. “The mother is supposed to bring him back around six.”
They were silent as Ashleigh listened to Paula’s rapidly pumping blood with her stethoscope.
“Not bad, but higher than it should be,” she told Paula as she removed the cuff. “Just close your eyes and take some deep breaths. I’ve got everything else covered.”
Ashleigh silently packed up her medical bag, afraid to say anything that would inflame Paula and raise her blood pressure.
Like why couldn’t you have bee
n loyal to me when my marriage was falling apart, instead of taking Kyle’s side?
* * *
ASHLEIGH HAD NEVER driven a minivan, but Ryan was too young to ride in the front seat of her two-seater sports car, so she’d taken Paula’s vehicle. One more reminder that Paula had been blessed with a growing family while Ashleigh had been denied a single offspring.
The mile drive to the hospital provided an abundance of memories. From the quaint shop where she and Kyle had shared a bowl of bubble gum ice cream on their first date in high school, to the tiny apartment they lived in before they bought the historic home that still housed Ashleigh’s pediatric practice.
The office where she no longer worked.
Knowing that Kyle wouldn’t be at the hospital was a relief. Though it only prolonged the inevitable no more than a day or two.
She’d deal with Kyle and her myriad of emotions when the time came.
Meanwhile, Ryan kept up a constant dialogue during the short drive, forcing Ashleigh’s mind away from the memories that haunted her.
“And my friend Jarrod can do a wheelie,” Ryan was telling her.
“Wow! That’s impressive. Is he the same age as you?”
“He’s a year older and doesn’t have training wheels anymore.”
“Were you trying to do a wheelie when you fell?” Ashleigh’s suspicion was confirmed by Ryan’s sheepish nod reflected in the rearview mirror.
Rekindling her relationship with her nephew wasn’t the time to lecture him on his foolishness. She’d leave that to his mother.
“Here we are,” she told Ryan after she maneuvered the minivan into a parking space in the hospital visitor lot. Back in the days when she had privileges here, she’d been able to park in the staff lot, which was closer to the entrance.
Once again, she shoved away those memories and walked Ryan across the parking lot and through the automatic doors leading to the emergency entrance. The sound of a siren got louder as an ambulance pulled up to the hospital.
“Dr. Wilson.” The middle-aged receptionist, Kathy something, gave her anything but a warm welcome.
Another convert to the Kyle camp.
The woman’s flowery perfume battled with the hospital’s unforgettable smell. But the nasty combination of illness, medications and antiseptic made her nostalgic nonetheless.
“How are you, Kathy?” Ashleigh realized how much she’d missed this place, no matter what kind of reception she received. Would this punch in the gut happen every time she ran into someone she once knew?
After exchanging cool pleasantries, Kathy’s attention turned to Ryan. “Oh, dear! Let me put this poor boy into the system.”
She returned to her computer and took down his information, including the insurance info Paula had sent along. She ushered them right back into a curtained area. “Dr. Phillips should be in to see Ryan shortly,” she said before leaving them alone.
Not more than two minutes went by before the curtain was pulled back, but it wasn’t Dr. Phillips. Ashleigh’s heart leaped into her throat.
Kyle.
Her ex-husband looked even better than she remembered. His thick, dark hair was matted, a product of his longtime habit of moving his protective eyewear to his head when not in use. He had a healthy tan and the corners of his deep blue eyes crinkled ever so slightly. Rather than make him look older, they made him more attractive. Even when those gorgeous eyes barely glanced at her before landing on Ryan.
She blanched at Kyle’s insolence. Not that she blamed him. She’d been out of his life long enough for him to go on without her.
He did his customary tug at the neck of the T-shirt he wore under his blue scrubs and cleared his throat. Kyle was the only man she’d ever known who looked hot in scrubs.
“Hey, buddy.” Kyle bypassed Ashleigh and spoke directly to his nephew, who sat cross-legged on the gurney. “What happened?” He gently removed the scarf from the boy’s arm and handed it to Ashleigh without taking his eyes from Ryan.
As their nephew related the tale, Ashleigh took a mental inventory of Kyle, searching for battle scars, perhaps, that matched her own. She saw none.
Hers weren’t visible on the outside, either.
CHAPTER TWO
IF ASHLEIGH HAD THRIVED without him, Kyle didn’t want to know. He purposely kept his eyes and attention averted, unprepared for his inevitable physical reaction whenever she was near. Instead, he concentrated on Ryan as the boy explained how he got injured.
“I thought we talked about that wheelie stuff,” Kyle admonished gently.
Ryan hung his head, the expression on his face reminiscent of his father back when Scott and Kyle had been young and adventurous.
“At least wait until your training wheels are off before you try any of those tricks,” Kyle reminded him.
Ashleigh drew in an audible breath, probably upset that he would approve what she would consider dangerous behavior. He turned his head partway in her direction. “Better a wheelie than something worse.” He paused and made the mistake of catching her eye. She’d always been a stickler for safety and rules, even though she used to flip backward off someone’s shoulders onto a hardwood floor as a high school cheerleader.
“I was told you weren’t working today.” Ashleigh’s comment was more of an accusation than a question.
“Multicar accident on Hamilton.” He’d been about to go home when Paula called him about Ryan. Thankfully, she’d given him a heads-up that Ashleigh was in town and was bringing the boy in.
Ashleigh turned back to Ryan. “Maybe you should wait until there’s an adult with you before you try a wheelie.”
Ryan looked to Kyle for confirmation, but the emergency room doctor on duty interrupted them.
“Hey, Hank.” Kyle turned from the gurney and greeted him, shaking the older man’s hand when he came through the curtain before making the proper introductions. “Dr. Ashleigh Wilson, this is Dr. Hank Phillips. He joined the staff about a year ago.”
While the two shook hands, Hank ran his other hand through his thinning gray hair. “Are you Paula’s sister? The resemblance is remarkable.”
Kyle should have mentioned Ashleigh was Ryan’s aunt. Even if she hadn’t kept in contact with the boy.
“You’ve met my sister?” Ashleigh’s eyebrows rose.
“Oh, yes.” Hank chuckled. “She’s included me in several of their holiday gatherings since my kids all live a few time zones away.”
The color drained from Ashleigh’s face.
Kyle wondered how she liked hearing that this stranger played a bigger role in her family’s lives than she had.
Ashleigh changed the subject back to Ryan. “From the way Ryan’s holding his arm and the radial pain on contact, I’m pretty sure it’s a simple break.”
Hank turned to examine Ryan. “How you doin’, buddy?”
Meanwhile, Kyle went against his better judgment and scrutinized a preoccupied Ashleigh.
Dr. Ashleigh Wilson. He’d never minded that she’d kept her maiden name when they’d married. An homage to her father, Dr. Clayton Wilson—a man Kyle had been proud to know.
Ashleigh was a little thinner since the last time he’d seen her, pounds she couldn’t afford to lose. Other than that, she looked even more beautiful than he remembered. His fingers itched to touch the loose tendril that escaped from her casually knotted hair. He longed to place his lips on the skin beneath it, to taste the sensitive spot on her neck that never failed to make her suck in her breath....
“Kyle?” From Hank’s tone, it wasn’t the first time the man had addressed him. All three of them stared at him.
He blinked twice. “Yes?”
“Do you want to go to Radiology with Ryan?” Hank narrowed his gaze and cocked his head in puzzlement.
“Of course.�
� Kyle then said to Ryan, “Let’s get you a wheelchair to ride in. Dr. Hank wants to take a picture of your arm.” Ryan’s eyes lit up as expected.
“Can we do a wheelie in it?” Ryan asked.
“We’ll see.” Kyle avoided Ashleigh’s gaze.
“But you and Aunt Ashleigh will both be there,” Ryan said. “Didn’t she say I needed an adult? Now I have two.”
“Aunt Ashleigh is going to wait for you here.” Kyle needed a break from her after that barely controlled fantasy.
“No,” Ashleigh countered. “I’m going with you.”
Kyle shrugged. “You’ll have to wait in the Radiology waiting room.”
Ashleigh’s cheek muscles tensed and she narrowed her eyes at Kyle. The daggers were locked and loaded.
“Hospital regulations,” he said pleasantly before she could argue. “You no longer have privileges at this hospital.” Her choice, but he didn’t say it aloud.
“You’re a pediatrician, as I recall.” Hank appeared oblivious to the tension in the room. “Where are you practicing now?”
Ashleigh’s color heightened. “I’m no longer practicing medicine. I work out of Richmond as a hospital fund-raiser.”
The reality of Ashleigh’s words hit Kyle in the pit of his stomach. Ashleigh had given up the career she adored because she could no longer bear to be around children.
* * *
ASHLEIGH FUMED AS she sat on the thinly padded vinyl chair in the radiology department waiting room. How dare Kyle exclude her? She was every bit the doctor he was, even if she hadn’t cared for patients since she left town.
She was perfectly happy working as a hospital fund-raiser. Turned out, she was pretty darn good at coming up with unique ways to get people to part with their money.
Which didn’t mean she never regretted giving up medicine—specifically working with children. She loved being in an office full of laughing and crying little ones, the noise and confusion never more than she could bear.
Until her last miscarriage.
That was the child she was supposed to finally carry to term. She’d made it into her second trimester and had begun telling people she was pregnant.
