by Caro Carson
As pickup lines went, Bamber was no Zach Bishop.
The nurse stood. “Actually, you know what? I should take those in and put them on the light box for Dr. MacDowell.”
She took the films out of Bamber’s hands and made her escape, briskly walking down the hall the other way, to the curtained-off overflow area. Bamber cleared his throat, nodded formally to Brooke once more, and returned to his basement, empty-handed.
Time dragged on. The nurse returned. “Zach’s little girl is such a cutie.”
Brooke looked up from her phone screen. “Pardon me?”
“The little girl Zach brought in. She’s so cute. Aren’t you dating Zach? From the Eye—uh, that is...”
“Eye Candy Engine,” Brooke murmured, immediately turning to look out the sliding glass doors. Engine Thirty-Seven was not out there. Nor had any choppers come in.
Zach was moonlighting for an ambulance, then. That was why he was so unavailable by text. That was why he didn’t feel a need to get out of the house and go to a movie tonight. She could just imagine him stuck at home this morning, going stir-crazy, and one of the ambulance companies calling to see if he could sub for a short shift. A little extra cash, a little excitement.
She hadn’t sent her medical orders to any of the private ambulance companies, just to Texas Rescue. He wouldn’t technically be violating her orders if he worked an ambulance shift.
What if he needed to perform CPR again? The demand on his sewn-up triceps would be significant. He’d be able to do it—he wasn’t endangering a patient—but it could set his own recovery back.
“Do you mean the Zach with the dark blond hair?” she asked the nurse. Cryptic text messages or not, it sounded too sneaky. Her Zach would’ve just told her that he was taking an ambulance shift.
“Yeah, the buff guy. The funny one. I’m going to check on room three now. Excuse me, Dr. Brown.”
Brooke glanced at the whiteboard. No X-rays were listed. More significantly, no one was listed as being in the overflow area.
This was absurd. If Zach was here, she’d go say hello. She slipped her phone in one of her white coat’s oversize pockets and headed for the curtained area.
She heard him before she saw him. The tone of his voice said there was nothing to worry about, everything would be okay. His actual words were, “Your grandma is going to send the doctors a piece of paper saying we can start fixing your arm.”
He was with an unaccompanied minor, then. How very like Zach to stay until the patient was more comfortable.
“This is Dr. Brown,” she said to the curtain. “May I come in?”
The pause seemed long.
“Sure, come on in.”
As always, her first glance at Zach gave her system a charge. And lately, the electric awareness was accompanied by a relief that she could see with her own eyes that he was safe. And hers.
At the moment, a little girl seemed to think he was hers. Already sitting nearly in Zach’s lap, a little angel with white-blond hair scooted even closer to him, the paper cover on the exam table crinkling under her white dress. Like Zach, her arm was in a sling, the plain cotton kind found in first aid kits. She stared up at Brooke with huge, blue eyes.
In the fraction of a second it took for Brooke to smile reassuringly at the scared child, her brain registered details in rapid fire. Pretty girl. Curls like my sister. Zach’s great with kids. He’s not in uniform. Not working after all.
Wait, then why—
The miniature angel burst into tears. She buried her face in Zach’s side and started scooching around to hide behind him. Brooke watched Zach use the fingers of his sling hand to soothe her curls as he kept his other arm around her securely.
“Oh, dear. I better go.” Brooke backed toward the curtain. Jamie wouldn’t appreciate her upsetting his patient.
“No, wait.” Zach looked at her with something very like pleading in his eyes, but pleading for what? For help soothing the patient? He was usually better at it than she was.
He was in a sling. How silly of her. She quickly went to the sink to grab the box of tissues that was kept to the left in every room. “Here you go.”
Zach hunched closer to the crying girl and spoke so quietly, it was almost a whisper. “Hey, Zoe? Can I tell you something?”
He waited.
After a moment of indecision, Zoe looked up at him and nodded. This big grown-up could tell her something.
Brooke shook her head in awe. How did Zach know how to do these things? Asking the child if he could tell her something had made the child quiet down in order to have her curiosity satisfied.
“Dr. Brown is my friend. I really like her. But she’s my friend, not your doctor. That means she isn’t going to look at your arm. You already have a doctor, Dr. MacDowell. He doesn’t have to look at your arm again, either. That part is over. Now we’re going to do the fixing part, as soon as we hear from your grandma.”
Jamie, while wearing a white coat like Brooke’s, had undoubtedly had the miserable task of testing the range of motion of the arm and wrist, something necessary but painful. No wonder the child wasn’t thrilled to see another doctor in a white coat.
“Zoe. That’s a pretty name.” Brooke remembered Zach crouching down in the tent on Saturday, talking to kids on their level. She pulled up the rolling doctor’s stool and had a seat. It was set so low, she was a bit below the little girl. She pulled a tissue out of the box and held it out casually. “Your face is kind of wet. Would you like to dry it? You seem pretty old. I don’t think you need me to do it.”
When the girl took the tissue and started dragging it all over her entire face, Brooke sat up taller and crossed her arms over her chest. “Wow. That’s very impressive. You really are a big kid.”
She could feel Zach’s gaze on her so hard, she looked up. She raised a brow in question at his intense expression and shrugged one shoulder. What? I’m not a total idiot with kids.
She pushed her luck. “How old are you?”
“I’m four.” Zoe held up all five fingers and then concentrated very hard on tucking her thumb in.
Brooke felt the tug at her heart. Four, like Chelsea. But it was just a tug. No horrible monster lurked in the corner today. Maybe because the monster knew that Zach was here, and he’d find a way to kick its butt, even with his arm in a sling.
She gave Zoe the whole tissue box. The child pulled a tissue out very carefully, set it down, and pulled out another one. Her interest in figuring out how the next tissue popped up was written all over her transparent expression.
Brooke hoped Zach could read her own expression. She wanted him to see that she didn’t need to shut down her emotions in order to deal with this patient. It was almost enjoyable, actually, to meet a child this adorable.
Brooke smiled at Zach. “Let me guess. You brought me something fabulous to eat, and Jamie pulled you out of the kitchen and put you to work, knowing what a hit you are with ladies of all ages.”
He shook his head no, but when she thought he was going to say something, he only clenched his jaw.
Zoe piped up. “I had milk in the kitchen, but Mr. Zach spilled it. I didn’t spill it.”
Brooke patted the child’s knee, the one without the gauze patch. “That’s okay. The hospital has people who clean up everything really well.”
Zach cleared his throat. “She means my kitchen. At the house. She hurt her arm falling off the porch steps.”
“Oh.”
Zach paused, obviously considering his words carefully. “Her mother came to pay me a visit this morning.”
Brooke couldn’t remember him ever failing to look her in the eye before, but he looked away, frowning at the hand wash sign over the sink.
The obvious question would be who was the mother and where was she now, but Brooke suddenly didn
’t want to ask. There seemed to be a monster of a different kind lurking at the edges of her mind. She didn’t want to know anything.
The child had lots to say as she pulled tissues out of the box. “I was very naughty and I opened the car door all by myself.” Tissue. “And I fell and it hurted and I got my dress dirty.” Tissue. “It’s my new dress I got ’cause Gary isn’t a daddy. Mommy said so.” Tissue. “Who cares because we don’t want dummy old Gary, anyway. Tony is rich. He’s already raised his kids.”
“Jeez.” Zach looked up to the ceiling. “Someone’s parent lacks a filter.”
Brooke was riveted, dazed, shocked—whatever it was, she tried to keep up with Zoe, who was on a roll now, speaking faster than she could pull the tissues.
“Gary is a dud. Zach is more better, and he let me eat ice when he putted it on my arm. Zach is big. He sure will be surprised to see me. I’m nice.” She paused, mulled that over and then looked up at Zach. “Are you surprising about me?”
Zach’s fingers brushed against the girl’s curls again. “You are very nice, and I am surprised to meet you.”
“Good.”
That one simple word sounded so strongly like Zach. Brooke looked more sharply at the little girl whose blue eyes were a common color in anyone with such blonde hair. A common color. Not blue-green, just blue. With a touch of green.
All her chatter about daddies was messing with Brooke’s mind. Four years sounded so significant, suddenly, and not just because her sister had been four when she died.
Brooke didn’t want to put the pieces together, but they kept falling into place, fitting together with too much ease. Zach had been left at the altar four years ago. This little girl was four years old.
It couldn’t be. Babies required time to arrive, nine months of time: conception, gestation, contractions.
Her white coat had fallen open to reveal her pinstriped skirt as she sat. She smoothed her hands over her lap, buying herself a moment, but she was too well trained to do anything but move forward. She looked at Zach, although he didn’t look at her. “That wedding you told me about, the one that didn’t happen four years ago, was it maybe a little more than four years?”
She sounded so calm. So absurdly calm, as if her whole world weren’t about to change.
Zach turned that blue-green gaze directly on her, and she saw no laughter, no wink. And she knew.
“I did the math this morning. It’s been four years and nine months.”
Brooke pushed with her foot and the chair rolled back a little way. She stood.
Zach stood up, too, but kept one hand on the child to keep her from falling from the tall exam table. Yes, safety was so important.
Brooke took a step backward, tripping on one stool wheel and making a little clatter. Zach tried to reach for her with the hand that wasn’t holding the child, but it was in the sling.
That was okay. He shouldn’t let go of the child for her. Children were so vulnerable.
Brooke hadn’t wanted children, so that she’d never end up like her mother.
This situation was worse, so much worse. If Zach had a child, then he could end up like her father.
Chapter Sixteen
Brooke stayed in the room while the monster had its turn. She remained standing, stoic in the trappings of her authority, the white coat, the stethoscope, ready to answer any questions the family might have as they dealt with the situation.
The family, in this case, was a new one that consisted of Zach and Zoe.
The grief wasn’t for the death of a loved one, but for the end of life as it had been. Zoe was devastated that her grandma’s paperwork had arrived, but that her grandma was still somewhere far away. With a child’s logic, she had assumed her grandma would give the doctors permission to fix her arm by coming to see the doctor here.
Zach’s grief was harder to pinpoint. There was a physical tension in his body that matched his evident mental tension as he considered everything he said, every paper he signed, and every decision he made. Each decision seemed to cause him pain.
Brooke wished she could do more, but she wasn’t the one who could make people relax and laugh; that was his specialty. Hers, Zach had said, was to maintain a cool professionalism in stressful situations. So she stayed present, stayed calm, and refused to give in to the monster that wanted so badly to make her crack.
Because she was grieving, too. The life she and Zach had begun making, the happiness that she’d just started capturing, was not going to be. Zach had said her heart was safe with him, because he wasn’t fragile. That was before he’d known Zoe existed. Now, if anything happened to Zoe, Zach would suffer. Zoe made Zach as vulnerable as the child.
Brooke had seen, firsthand, what happened to fathers who lost the love of their life, when the love of their life was an innocent four-year-old with golden curls.
Ashes.
The monster had his way. She’d loved her father, but it hadn’t been enough reason for him to keep living after Chelsea died.
She loved Zach, but that didn’t mean she’d be able to save him, either. She simply couldn’t let anything bad happen to Zoe.
Ever.
* * *
“Kids need naps.”
That was Jamie’s parting advice in the curtained cubby as Zach and Zoe, with his sling and her pink fiberglass cast, got ready to leave.
“And snacks,” Jamie added, in a critical discussion with his former football teammate.
If Brooke hadn’t been able to hear what they were saying, she would have assumed they were two athletic men huddled to talk sports. Instead, they were having a serious discussion about child care.
“If we don’t feed Sammy every couple of hours, there’s hell to pay. And once they get this tired fussy thing going, just give up and go home and put them down for a nap. Leave the store, leave the restaurant, whatever. Naptime is sacred.”
“Got it.”
“I’m not saying I’m an expert on anybody else’s kid, but someone looks like she’s heading for a meltdown. I suggest you go straight home.”
Zoe was rubbing her eyes and getting her own fingers tangled in her hair and twisting herself around in Zach’s arm in general irritability.
“You better go,” Brooke said, and she pulled the curtains back.
“Thanks again, Jamie. For everything.” Even with Zoe in the crook of his right arm, Zach was able to extend his hand to shake Jamie’s. He turned to Brooke. “I’ll see you tonight.”
It had been her idea for him never to engage in public displays of affection at her job, but as he walked away, she wished he’d kissed her anyway, with Jamie standing there and Zoe in his arms.
Zoe was looking over Zach’s shoulder at Brooke as he carried her down the hall. Her head dropped onto Zach’s shoulder and she did the slow, sleepy blink, but she waved bye-bye at Brooke.
Oh.
It was so special to have a child notice her. It was Chelsea all over again. Even at age twelve, Brooke had understood why her father had loved Chelsea the most, because she’d thought Chelsea was extra lovable, too. It made sense that the baby was Daddy’s favorite, because the baby was Brooke’s favorite.
And now the baby was Zoe. If Brooke was touched by Zoe’s little wave, then Zach must be head over heels in love with his daughter already.
Zoe was now the most important person in his life. It made sense to her. That was the way things should be.
Jamie took the films off the light box and returned them to their envelope. “I owe you an apology. Zach asked me to help him find a way to take you somewhere private before you saw Zoe. He really wanted to tell you himself.”
“He did tell me.”
“I mean alone. We had a call in to the day care center to see if they’d watch Zoe after we put the cast on her, and I was try
ing to keep him out of the way until then.”
“You were hiding him? That only works in movies.” She wasn’t trying to make a joke.
Jamie looked a little sheepish. “I’m sorry you got such a surprise.”
“I’m fine, Jamie.”
“For what it’s worth, I thought you handled it really well.”
The day care center he’d just mentioned was part of the pediatric ward, for use by children who were recovering from non-contagious conditions. Hospital employees could use the center for their children a certain amount of days per year. It kept absenteeism to a minimum.
Zach’s medical leave ended in four days. What would he do with a child when he had to work?
“Do I have to be married to Zach in order to put Zoe in the day care center? Is it enough to just be living together?”
“I didn’t know you two were living together.”
She felt as if she’d been caught in a little white lie with Zach’s friend. “We haven’t really discussed it, but it wouldn’t be a stretch if I checked the box that said we were cohabitating.”
“I think they’ll allow any minor that lives in your household. The hospital just doesn’t want you to miss work because you couldn’t find a sitter. Listen, it’s so slow here, you should end your shift now.”
It was exactly what she’d planned to suggest before she’d met Zach’s new daughter.
He has a daughter.
There was a jolt every time the reality hit her. It was a monumental change.
She hesitated. “The two of them probably need time alone. I don’t want to get in the way. I don’t think she needs another stranger around.”
“If you two want to talk as adults, naptime is just about the only time you won’t have an audience.”
“It will jinx you if I leave. You’ll be flooded.”
“Zach will owe me one, then. Go.”
* * *
“How many tortilla chips can I feed her before I’m officially a bad father? We finished the whole bag yesterday when we came home from the hospital.”
