Love on Call

by Shirley Hailstock

  Mallory heard a long scream—her voice!—as she finally attained the release she craved. Brad’s climax came a second later, then the two of them collapsed against each other. Her heart pounded in her ears as satisfaction overtook her, pulsing waves in a raging sea. Breathing through her mouth, she tried to calm her rapidly beating heart, but was helpless in the moment. Brad had invaded every cell of her body, and extracting herself would take time.

  She hugged him closer. Let it take all the time it needed, she thought. Mallory had never been so content in her life, and she was willing to remain where she was for the rest of eternity.

  Chapter Six

  Through the stethoscope the sound was steady and strong, though slightly fast. Brad listened for several seconds, then moved the instrument several inches and listened again.

  “Take a deep breath and let it out slowly,” he instructed. The girl in front of him did as she was told. Ellen Grant looked at the ceiling. She held her body still. Brad knew she was scared and was covering it up with belligerence. He should try to help her relax, but he was too distracted this morning. Normally, he would be more talkative. Sometimes the new ones didn’t talk back. Ellen fell into that category.

  “It’s all right,” he said in a calm voice. “You’re doing fine.”

  Brad was amazed he could remember a simple sentence, let alone the procedures of a doctor. He was at the shelter, his usual monthly visit to take care of any new arrivals or those needing his care. The girl he’d been accused of kidnapping bit her bottom lip and stared at the floor.

  “I am fine,” she said.

  Brad sat back. “You can get dressed now,” he told her. “Your heartbeat is sound, your lungs clear, and I find nothing wrong with you.” She hid her face, trying not to let him see the relief there. He didn’t push her. She wasn’t ready to be pushed, and there was someone else on his mind.

  Mallory Russell.

  What had happened last night? What had he been thinking? That was the problem—he hadn’t been. She’d looked at him and something inside him detonated. Something as strong as a nuclear bomb had gone off in his loins, and his mind had been blown away with it. It was the only explanation he could accept for what had happened.

  Brad had rules he lived by. At least he thought he did. That was until Mallory Russell had come into his life. He didn’t want to count the number of rules he’d broken yesterday. First, he’d been more interested in Mallory than he should be. He’d gone ballooning with her on what amounted to a date. He’d eaten with her and laughed. And to top things off they’d made love.

  “You may go now,” he told Ellen. “I want you to make friends with the other kids.” She threw him a sarcastic look and left.

  When she closed the door, Brad stared at it. He didn’t see the opaque glass, the wood frame or the old-fashioned glass knob. He looked back into yesterday’s events, into Mallory’s eyes. His body stiffened as the memory aroused him. What was happening to him? He should have more control than a fifteen-year-old kid, but that’s exactly what he felt like. He couldn’t see another patient like this. Thankfully, Ellen had been his last, but Christina Margo, the resident nurse, would be knocking on the door soon, ready to go over his findings. He had to get control of himself, and thinking of Mallory wouldn’t allow that.

  What was he going to do about her? These feelings?

  Still, he couldn’t forget their lovemaking. The light had begun to wane when they’d woken in the late afternoon. Mallory’s lids were heavy when she opened them. She’d smiled and curved her naked body around his. She was warm and slick against him, with smooth legs and full breasts. And so soft, like cotton caressing his body. She’d kissed his arms and shoulders, stroked his skin with her hands, up and down his arms and across his belly. His reaction to her seduction couldn’t have been more immediate if she’d given him an aphrodisiac. He’d wanted her, with a need so strong it scared him, yet not strong enough to prevent him from taking her again.

  The first time had altered his conception of a lot of things. He’d thought he knew what lovemaking was all about. He’d thought he knew what having sex encompassed, but their joining had taught him that he knew nothing about how things worked between men and women. All the knowledge he’d gained in his thirty-odd years was nothing compared to experiencing one afternoon with Mallory.

  Their second time was even more explosive than the first. She had shown him a world he didn’t know existed, a place without hurt or heartache, where lovers spoke a language that required no words. It was a paradise that needed visiting often. And he knew that he could go there with only one person.

  Mallory Russell.

  “Hi, Dr. Clayton.” Brad looked up as a thin, happy voice interrupted his thought. He smiled at seven-year-old Michael Jamison.

  Michael always came to see him. When Brad had first found him and brought him to the shelter he’d stayed with the frightened little boy. Mike had lost his family in a fire and clung to Brad as if he were a savior. Traumatized, the child had walked the streets for days, in shock, afraid and hiding. Brad had found him in the early hours of the morning, weaving back and forth like a drunk, or someone going into insulin shock. The child had passed out from hunger. For weeks he hadn’t said a word, then one day he’d started to cry and scream for his parents. Brad had stood in as a surrogate until the worst of the trauma was over.

  “Hi, Mike. What are you doing here?” he asked him now.

  “I’m not sick,” the little boy said. “I’m okay.” He emphasized the second syllable. “So I don’t need a shot.”

  Brad laughed. “I don’t always come with shots,” he told him.

  “I know.”

  “So are you doing all right in school?”

  Mike frowned. “I don’t like school.”

  “But…” Brad left the word hanging. They had an agreement about school.

  “But I promised I’d try.” He hung his head as he said it. Mike had promised Brad he would try his best to do well.

  “I hear your teachers have good things to say about you.”

  “They do?” He perked up as if it were Christmas morning.

  “They do.” Brad’s eyes narrowed on the boy. He was tall for his age and extremely observant. “Mike, how is Ellen doing? Has she made any friends?”

  He hung his head again. “She doesn’t like anyone. She kicks or screams at everyone who goes near her. I don’t like her.”

  Brad looked at the boy with compassion. “She’s been hurt, Mike. Remember when you first came here? You had been hurt, too.”

  Mike’s face transformed as he remembered his parents. “Yeah, but I didn’t try to kick anyone.”

  “She doesn’t mean it. She’s just scared.” He paused to let the words sink in. “Could you try to be her friend? She needs a friend.”

  “How can I do that?” The seven-year-old frowned.

  Brad gazed at him fondly. “Smile at her, even if she frowns at you. Sit with her at meals, even if she tells you to go away. And if she asks you what you want, just tell her you want to be her friend.”

  Mike stared at him for a long time. Brad wondered if the boy was weighing his words or trying to find a way to back out. “All right,” the child agreed slowly and reluctantly.

  “Trust me, Mike. She’s not a mean person. She’s more afraid of you than you know.”

  “Why’s she afraid of me? I ain’t done nothing.”

  “Haven’t done anything,” Brad corrected.

  “I haven’t.” The child missed the short lesson in grammar.

  “Try it, Mike?” The boy looked at his shoes. “For me?”

  “All right,” he said, drawing out the last word. “But…” He stopped.

  “Go on,” Brad prompted. “But what?”

  “It’s nothing.” Mike looked at the floor.

  “It must be something.” He lifted the boy’s chin. “You can tell me anything.”

  “Detective Ryan says you try to save everyone.”

  Det
ective Ryan told Brad that, as well. And often.

  “It’s something you’ll learn about as you grow older, Mike.”

  “Detective Ryan also says you can’t save everyone even if you do try.”

  “That’s true,” he agreed. “But try with Ellen.”

  “I will. He also says you have to try, even if you don’t always win.”

  Mike left him with a smile and a grown-up handshake. Brad smiled to himself. The child who’d once clung to him desperately now walked away with a handshake. They grow up fast, Brad thought. The street did that. But at least Mike had taken his mind off of Mallory.

  And Mallory had taken his mind off of Sharon Yarborough.

  Mallory had already started up the stairs when she heard footsteps coming toward her. She pressed herself into the shadows against the wall. Consciously, she controlled her breathing, careful not to make a sound in the hollow stairwell that climbed to the top of the building. She didn’t want the person to hear her. The stairs weren’t often used, and at this hour she usually had them to herself.

  Her heart pounded so loudly she could hear it in her ears. It muffled the approaching footsteps. Who was it? Where was he going? Would he come down to where she stood? She glanced at the door to the fifth floor; there was a station right inside it, she knew. She didn’t want to go past it unless absolutely necessary. Mallory wasn’t due back in the hospital until Monday, and she would have a hard time explaining her presence here if someone found her.

  Don’t panic, she said silently, closing her eyes to calm herself. She opened them again. It wouldn’t be the end of the world if she were found. She would have some explaining to do, but she wasn’t breaking any laws. Maybe unauthorized entry, but that would be a stretch. She didn’t want to be found because of her patients. They needed her. They needed her to talk to them, to help wake them up.

  The steps were heavy and continued toward her. A man, she thought. She would have to make a decision soon. She looked up. One more floor and she’d have to retreat. She would take her chances going down.

  Mallory took a silent step toward the stairs, but stopped suddenly when she heard a door open below her. Damn, she cursed. There was someone below her, too. She was sandwiched between them. Mallory had no choice but to go onto the fifth floor. There was a slight chance that the staff on duty would be making their rounds and that the nurses’ station would be clear. It was three o’clock in the morning, but remaining where she was wasn’t an option. She snapped her head upward as the door on the sixth floor opened. The footsteps above her went silent. Mallory looked down as if she could see through the cement. The footsteps below were slow, but still coming. Quickly she left her place, racing up the stairs on feet that were as silent as feathers. On the seventh floor she peered through the door and checked the halls. It was clear. Mallory slipped through the door and quickly went into the darkened coma wing.

  “Hello, Margaret,” she whispered, out of breath. Her heart beat so fast it could keep time with “Fascinating Rhythm.” “I know I’m a little late. I had trouble on the stairs.” Mallory gulped to fill her lungs, then went into her one-sided questions, asking how Margaret was, as if she could answer. Then silence fell between them. Mallory thought of her own concerns. Brad.

  She looked down at Margaret, a woman old enough to be Mallory’s mother. Maybe if she talked to her, she could figure her way out of what was going on. If there was something going on.

  “There’s a doctor here in the hospital that I’m…involved with.” She wasn’t sure if that was entirely true, but it was as close as she could get to whatever was going on between herself and Brad.

  “At first he needed someone to talk to and I was there.” Mallory knew Brad had used her, but it was harmless. She’d listened to him and nothing more. Until last night. “Things have gone a little further now.”

  A little further. She wanted to laugh out loud. A little further was like saying the Grand Canyon was just a hole in the ground. What had happened between her and Brad was like the earth moving off its axis.

  “I don’t mean that he’s using me. He isn’t.”

  Mallory took hold of Margaret’s hand. She herself was the one who needed the touch, the consoling.

  “I think I’m falling in love with him.” Mallory said it quietly. She stared at the window blinds. Through them she saw the moon and stars. Outside it was cold, but inside Mallory there was a roaring furnace. “I can’t be in love with him.” She was no longer talking to Margaret Keller. “Falling in love would screw up everything. I have too much to do.” She looked around. “Here. These are the people who need me. The poor ones. The ones without family or visitors. Falling in love would mean accounting for my time to someone else.” She couldn’t do it. She knew what it was like to be in one of these beds. She knew the loneliness, the hours of time that passed by slowly and without the kindness of a human voice to fill the darkness. She couldn’t condemn these patients to that.

  And Brad—he had his own demons to deal with. But he had the most important thing. He had family. People who loved and supported him. He had a mother, even though she’d left him years ago. She was still alive and there was a slim chance that they could now develop a relationship if they both wanted that.

  Brad and Mallory had too much to separate them and not enough to bring them together. Then she thought of Brad kissing her, making love to her. She closed her eyes as her mind took her back to the tangled sheets of her bedroom and the hard body that had kept her there.

  “There has to be another option,” she said.

  By the time Mallory’s week of forced vacation ended and she returned to work, she hadn’t seen or heard from Brad. She wondered if he had the same misgivings about their night together that she had. She’d tried to rationalize her actions. She’d tried to tell herself it meant nothing. She’d tried to talk herself into believing it hadn’t happened, but then she would remember their lovemaking and her body would heat up to a point of meltdown. Denial was futile.

  In the E.R., she picked up the chart of her first patient and read it as she opened the curtain and looked inside.

  “Good morning, Cindy.” She smiled at a pretty twenty-three-year-old lying in the hospital bed. “I’m Dr. Russell. What happened to you?” Mallory hated that she always had to ask the same question a nurse and sometimes the police had already asked. In Cindy’s case there were no uniforms around. Mallory was glad of that. After Wayne Mason, her heart tripped each time she saw police in the E.R.

  Mallory visited patient after patient. The E.R. hadn’t changed since she’d been away. The morning flew by. Each time she moved about the department she looked for Brad. He didn’t have to come to the E.R. often, but she’d gotten used to seeing him there.

  She wondered what he’d decided to do about his mother. Had he called his family and told them? Mallory had many questions for Brad. She’d missed him more than she thought she would. But he was busy at the hospital and the shelter. And they hadn’t really had a date. She’d invited him to go ballooning because she wanted to be with him. And he’d come to her more than once when he needed someone. It had joined her to him in friendship if nothing else. But she knew their relationship was more than that.

  “Hey, how about some lunch?” Dana Baldwin asked, stopping behind Mallory.

  “Lunch would be great.” Mallory stretched, placing her hands on her back. “It’s time for my nap.”

  Dana laughed. “You take a nap? I’ll never believe it. But I do want to know what you did on your vacation, since you were never home.”

  They left the hospital and went to a deli across the street, where a lot of the nurses and doctors ate. The place was mobbed, but Dana knew how to handle crowds. She pushed her way through the maze and ordered sandwiches and drinks. Then they left the noise and chaos for the quiet of Dana’s van.

  “What did you do while you were off?” Dana bit into her sandwich.

  Mallory knew she had to be careful about what she said. Dana was he
r friend, but Brad also trusted her. Mallory didn’t want anything to jeopardize his trust.

  “I went ballooning.”

  Dana frowned. “I don’t see how you can do that.”

  “You should come sometime. It’s beautiful up there.” The sky had never been so beautiful as it was the last time she went up. Brad had been with her.

  “It might be, but it’s beautiful down here, too, and I like my feet on the ground.”

  Mallory smiled and didn’t comment. She knew that ballooning wasn’t for everyone. “How were things around here?”

  “It was really busy. We could have used you, but we were ordered not to call you under any circumstances.”

  “By whom?”

  “Dr. Clayton.” Dana stared directly at her. Mallory tried to keep her expression neutral. “I think he really cares about you.”

  Mallory was in the midst of drinking from her soda. She choked on the liquid, coughing to cover her surprise.

  “Dr. Clayton!” she said with artificial surprise in her voice. “Why would you think that?”

  “The man has an attitude, for sure.” Dana raised one eyebrow. “But he’s taken an interest in you particularly. The night after the incident in the E.R. he kept asking questions about you, wanted to make sure you had someone to watch over you. Then he found out how often you’re on call. He made comments about how tired you look some days, and how rested on others. He never noticed anything about anyone else. And believe me, many of the nurses have tried to catch his eye. To top things off he forbade the staff from calling you after he forced you to take a vacation. His interest in you can only mean one thing.”

  Mallory had stopped eating. Her ears were so hot she was sure flames were shooting into her hairline. “Gossip,” she said.

  “Love,” Dana countered, dropping her hands to her lap.

  Mallory frowned, but the idea wasn’t repulsive. In fact, she liked it. She held that inside and felt her heart flutter. She would love to take Dana into her confidence, but she hadn’t worked everything out in her own head yet. Until then she couldn’t even let her friend know how she felt.