Assignment- Baby

by Lynne Marshall

  "Okay, okay, I'll start keeping track like everyone else." She had a sudden overwhelming urge to bite the hangnail on her finger, but resisted.

  Rather than look at Amanda, he made a clown face for the baby. "There you go." Sophie giggled. "The playing part's kind of fun, but the rest—" He made another face and the baby laughed more.

  His frivolity was driving Amanda nuts. She picked up a chart and studied it, determined not to let Hunter lighten her mood. "I'll tell them about the music meditation later, after we go over their EKG results at the group meeting this afternoon."

  She tapped her finger on her upper lip. There was no time like the present. "I have a few ideas, too," she said.

  "Yeah?" he said over his shoulder, putting Sophie in her jump seat, which he'd just attached to the door frame. The baby automatically started bouncing up and down, making a wide, gummy grin. "See—this is a lifesaver. I can hang her in here and she keeps herself busy for up to an hour sometimes." He rubbed his jaw. "Now, if I could just figure out what to do with her the rest of the time…"

  "Hunter." Amanda refused to get sidetracked. "We need to set some ground rules about our professional relationship," she said, noticing how ridiculous she sounded the moment the words left her mouth.

  He stood perfectly still, while Sophie ricocheted off the floor as if an atomic particle.

  Amanda cleared her throat and tried not to be distracted. "I don't think we should discuss our past at work, or socialize in any way." A flutter of nerves gathered in her stomach, making a tightly bound knot. "And no touching. That should be off-limits, too."

  He quirked a brow.

  "Anything you'd consider off-limits for your medical assistant, or any female coworker, please do the same for me."

  He squinted, took a deep breath as if to say the first thought in his mind, then stopped and regrouped. "Sounds as if you could use some music therapy, too," he grumbled, and stepped around the bouncing baby to leave the room.

  * * *

  Sophie grew fussier as the morning went on, until Hunter couldn't stop her crying.

  "Why don't you borrow an otoscope from Peds and check if she's got an ear infection?" Amanda suggested.

  "She doesn't feel feverish to me," he said, pressing the back of his hand against her cheek and forehead. "And she's not pulling at her ears. But it's a good idea."

  When Hunter whisked Sophie out of the office and headed down the hall for the pediatric clinic, it dawned on her. Sophie was nine months old. She was probably teething. She rooted through the baby bag and came up with a liquid-filled teething ring. After washing her hands and the teething ring with soap and water, she waited for Hunter and Sophie's return.

  Soon he reappeared in the doorway, shaking his head. "Not an ear infection."

  Sophie whimpered and kicked her legs.

  "Teething." She held up the toy to entice Sophie to chew on it, instead of on Hunter's chin and beard stubble.

  "Would you like me to take her for a while?"

  Hunter nodded gratefully.

  When Amanda stepped forward and reached for the child, she noticed the dark circles under Hunter's eyes. She hadn't seen that before—probably because she'd avoided looking at him all morning. Had she put that on the no-no list? No eye contact? Maybe she'd add it, because as she recalled, his haunting dark eyes could work better than Svengali's when it came to getting his way.

  The poor guy had probably been up all night with a fussy baby. She regretted chiding him for being late again. His world had been turned sideways, having Sophie thrust on him right before he'd been hoodwinked into mentoring the Mending Hearts Club project. Truth was, she felt kind of sorry for him, and she wanted to make amends…to both of them. She also felt a major reversal coming on. For crying out loud, it had only taken two days.

  "You know, Hunter, my house is only five minutes away. Why don't you and Sophie go there and take a nap during lunch? It might do you both good." That doesn't qualify as socializing, does it? So what if the guy would have full access to where she lived? She wouldn't be there. Was it too late to take back the offer?

  He hesitated, making a thin line with his lips. "I couldn't do that."

  Okay, good. She could back out now. He was right. He couldn't and shouldn't do that. "No. Really. You should." Had she lost control of her mouth?

  "I'd be breaking one of your rules," he teased.

  Underneath her professional facade, she was a person, a person with a heart. The guy needed to catch a break and she could give it to him. She'd do the same for any of her coworkers.

  "This is an exception. You both look worn-out, and I can't afford for you to get so run-down that you get sick."

  "Since you put it that way," he said, fighting off a smirk, "I'll take you up on the offer."

  Amanda fished through her purse and found her keys. She dangled them before him. "Turn left out of the driveway, go to the second light and turn right. I'm the third condo from the corner. Ground level. One-one-seven."

  "Thanks," he said, snatching the keys from her hand—but not before he'd held her fingers for a moment. Staring deeply into her eyes, he said, "Sorry. I'm not supposed to do that, am I?" He caught her off guard with his charming smile and a quick wink. "You know me. I like breaking rules."

  That was precisely what she was afraid of.

  CHAPTER THREE

  HUNTER dug into his pocket with a damp palm for the house keys Mandy had given him. How would it feel to invade her privacy after being away all these years?

  The door opened to a bright living room, much as he'd expected, and a house that smelled of flowers and grilled vegetables. Mandy had always been a healthy eater.

  One long lime-green divan covered with flashy throw pillows and two loudly patterned chairs were an obvious change in her style. Candles were everywhere, almost like a shrine, and it made him worry she spent too much time alone…in the dark. Dried flower arrangements and picture frames were perched on bookcases and tables. Not one photograph was from their time together. Strangely, it made him feel forgotten.

  He recognized an oil painting she'd bought when they were married, one they'd chosen together, and remembered how much he'd liked the abstract style after she'd convinced him to open up his artistic tastes.

  A family shot taken of Mandy and her parents stood out. Her dutiful daughter role. To the common eye no one would notice her smile was ever so slightly strained. But he knew better. They'd never had any faith in Mandy, and it used to cut to her core. He, on the other hand, had encouraged her to go after her dreams…until she'd admitted to him everything she desired from life and their marriage. But that story had ended, and maybe it was best not to open the book again.

  Hunter had resisted the breakup, preferring things to go on as they always had, but Mandy had dug in her heels and insisted on a divorce due to irreconcilable differences. He still scratched his head at her change of heart about having a baby. After their problem had been naturally resolved when she'd got her period, he'd expected her to join him with a Whew, that was a close call attitude and drop it. But she'd changed. Her career and marriage had no longer been enough. She'd given him no choice.

  Hunter glanced at Sophie, asleep in her portable car seat. Though caring for her was only temporary, he feared the baby was already being neglected because of his job. He'd had to tote her everywhere, to depend on the kindness of others to see to her while he worked, then pack her up and confine her in the car for more travel. Which she hated. How could a child grow and be healthy under such circumstances? And what more proof did he need about mixing families with demanding careers? He and Jade had paid a big price for their parents' successes, and he was damned if he'd make his children suffer, too. Nope. No babies for him.

  A sturdy oak dining table sat before an entire wall of sliding glass doors that overlooked a covered patio. Pushing aside a stack of papers, he put the car seat in the middle of the table. Why, he wondered, did she have such a large table for one person? He didn't need
to think for long. Being an only child had always been lonely for Mandy. Even now she obviously still dreamed of filling her table and home with a family. A big family.

  He glanced outside and spotted healthy potted plants. Were they real? He shook his head remorsefully at the lack of faith he'd shown in Mandy years before. Just like her parents.

  Hunter set up the portable baby bed in a snug corner, and gingerly lifted Sophie from her car seat—hoping with all his might he wouldn't wake her up. She fussed the slightest bit. Please, no. He worried she'd start crying again, but she didn't. Instead she snuggled down into her soft blanket and fell deeper into her dreams.

  He heaved a sigh of relief.

  At the beginning of a long hall, he found a bedroom on the right, abutting the living room. It was Mandy's. He inhaled her unmistakable scent. Was it rosemary she'd once said had been added to lavender? A sudden heady feeling followed a memory of having watched her apply lotion to her legs with long strokes after a shower.

  Even if this was the only bed in the house, no way could he lie on it. He'd use the sofa. Why torture himself with memories of stretching side by side, flesh to flesh with his wife? He made a proprietorial survey for any telltale signs of another man. Negative.

  A sly smile extended across his lips.

  Closing the door, he walked farther down the hall toward the bathroom at the end. What the hell was that smell? It was pungent and foul, as if her plumbing might be backed up. No wonder she had potpourri all over the place. He closed the guest bathroom and the laundry room doors, then headed for the one remaining bedroom on the other side of the hall.

  After a quick look around, he took off his jacket and flopped onto the mattress covered with a flowery spread. He didn't give a damn that it was another girly room as long as he could get some sleep.

  Just as he was about to doze off, a soft thud next to his head made his lids fly open. He stared into a pair of devious amber-colored eyes. He'd been stalked, and now he knew what that damn smell was.

  Cat box.

  * * *

  By three o'clock there was still no sign of Hunter. Amanda didn't have the heart to call home and wake him up. It was obvious Hunter and Sophie both needed their rest.

  All she'd been doing was removing halter monitors and collecting food journals with each patient's appointment. She could take the remaining EKGs and diet journals home to analyze if she didn't finish them all here. Then she'd enter the data into her home computer after her shift in the Urgent Care clinic that night.

  At a quarter to five, just as she was packing up, Hunter appeared in the office, looking rested but disheveled. "Mandy, I'm so sorry. If Sophie hadn't soaked her diaper we'd still be asleep."

  "I was beginning to wonder…" A slight smile twitched at the edges of her mouth. He looked so…slept-in.

  "How can I make it up to you? Do you want me to stay late?"

  How like him to show up ready to work rather than call and see if he could get out of coming back, she thought briefly. "No. Go home, get a good night's rest, and show up on time tomorrow. We'll be running the stress tests and dividing everyone into exercise groups."

  "Sounds like a plan. I'll see you tomorrow, then." He tossed her the keys.

  She nodded, already preoccupied with the last EKG, pretending to be distracted. "See ya."

  He turned to leave. "Nice condo, by the way."

  For some silly reason, the compliment made her happy. "Thanks."

  "Should have told me about the cat, though."

  She fought back that tickly smile again, eventually giving in and grinning at the desk.

  * * *

  That evening, Amanda hadn't been home more than fifteen minutes when someone knocked on her door. There stood Hunter, carrying Sophie in her car seat. The baby happily gnawed away at her teething ring, but made a quick kick and squeal when she noticed Amanda.

  "What are you doing here?"

  "Two diesel trucks jackknifed on the freeway and caught on fire. All lanes are shut down until further notice, and the detour will take a good two hours."

  "Then you'll just have to stay here." What in the world had she just said?

  "You wouldn't mind?"

  Of course she would! "Not at all. You've already found the guest room. You and Sophie can set up in there."

  "What about all those ground rules you laid down?"

  She sighed with indecision. Ah, hell. "They don't apply in an emergency."

  He carried all the baby items he could hold through the door. "I owe you. I couldn't stand the thought of sitting in traffic another minute."

  Hunter's eyes came to rest on her legs. She'd just gotten ready to take a quick run before her shift, and had on nothing more than flimsy jogging shorts and a midriff-length T-shirt. Her cheeks burned with heat by the time Hunter glanced back up into her eyes.

  "Am I interrupting something?" he said. "Besides your entire life, I mean?"

  He pointedly tried not to check her legs out again, but her cheeks flamed hotter. She palmed her face with a cool hand, then pretended to find her carotid artery and time her pulse.

  "Going for a run. Make yourself at home," she said over her shoulder, and she bolted out the door.

  Hunter stood and stared until she was halfway down the block. She was a natural runner, her arms relaxed at her sides, shoulders straight. He smiled at her long, smooth strides. The rump shot was fantastic, too.

  The short-furred gray tabby came down the hall to take a peek. He didn't know if the cat was allowed outside or not, so he held him back with his foot and regretfully closed the door.

  Sophie fussed, as if to say, Well? Are we staying or not?

  Great. Now he was interpreting baby thoughts. Well, that was better than the wicked ones running around his mind right then.

  He cleared his throat. "Okay. Okay. Give me a second, will you, Sophie?"

  The baby gave him a juicy raspberry.

  "Back at ya, kid."

  He had to be nuts to have accepted Mandy's invitation. It meant spending the evening in each other's company, and that would be easy on neither of them. Being around her would dredge up old feelings, and, frankly, he'd already used most of his sentimental reserves caring for Sophie.

  As if he needed more convincing, he cracked open the door for one last look at Mandy jogging away. Yeah, that rump shot was spectacular.

  * * *

  "You're working at Urgent Care tonight?" Hunter had made himself at home, removed his jacket and, because of the midsummer heat, stripped down to his undershirt. If he were at home, he would have had on shorts, and most likely wouldn't be wearing a shirt at all.

  Mandy, on the other hand, had showered and changed back into work clothes.

  "Uh-huh. I had to take a leave of absence to work on the heart project, but I moonlight a couple of shifts a week." She nibbled on a protein bar. "The grant I got for the study allows for a small stipend, but it doesn't cover enough of my expenses. And even though Mercy Hospital is donating the Serena Vista Clinic office space, special equipment and classrooms, I still need money to live on."

  "Who's paying me?"

  "Mercy Hospital. Like always."

  "Why aren't they paying you…like always?"

  "Because I'm not seeing patients as a nurse practitioner."

  "That doesn't seem fair. I'm not seeing patients anymore, either."

  "Sure you are. The Mending Hearts Club patients. Anyway, it's my study, and I'm happy to do it, so I'm not going to sweat the small stuff."

  "The small stuff? Like your life and livelihood?" She'd always had a "work is life" attitude, but this was ridiculous.

  She took another bite from the bar. "It's not so bad. Help yourself to any food." She grabbed a banana. "I should be home around eleven."

  Once again she bolted out the door, leaving Hunter angry about the injustice of the hospital system, worried that the protein bar would be her only dinner, and relieved he wouldn't have to spend the entire evening with her. And if tha
t wasn't a crazy enough mix of concerns, one other feeling edged its way into his mind—disappointment.

  * * *

  Marian Jamison, a longtime friend and fellow NP, listened attentively as Amanda explained the recent crazy change of circumstances and twist of fate in her life. Marian lifted a single blond brow when Amanda mentioned Hunter was back at her house this very minute and would be spending the night.

  "Is he still as hot as he used to be?" Marian's playful green gaze twinkled with mischief.

  Amanda took a deep breath and rolled her eyes. "That's beside the point, Marian. He's juggling his niece and commuting, and trying to be useful with the patients, and I want this heart study to be a success more than anything."

  "Apparently. Or you wouldn't have Hunter sleeping over."

  "It's not like that, and you know it." But the thought of Hunter sleeping under the same roof sent a tickle down her spine, and she curled her toes to try to stop the feeling.

  If only she could have encouraged him to find a hotel without feeling like a witch.

  Before Marian could utter another smart remark, Amanda shook her head and strode to the next patient exam room. She tapped on the door and entered. A grizzled-haired man with tented brows and apprehensive eyes nodded her a greeting. She suspected he was in pain. She introduced herself and offered her hand.

  He winced when he moved his arm away from his body to shake.

  "What brought you to Urgent Care, Mr. Salcedo?"

  "I've had a fever for a couple of days. Thought I was coming down with the flu, you know. I ache all over and I'm very tired."

  She glanced at the computer notes left by the medical assistant who had checked his vitals. Elevated b/p and temp.

  "Now I have terrible pain around my ribs." Tension creased the corners of his eyes.

  "On both sides?"

  "Just on this side." He gingerly touched his right side above the waist.

  "Did you fall or bump into anything lately?"

  The simple act of shaking his head caused him to wince again.