Love On Anchor Island: An Anchor Island Novel

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Love On Anchor Island: An Anchor Island Novel Page 10

by Terri Osburn


  His ability to read her was nerve-racking. “It’s true, though.”

  “No, it isn’t,” he assured her. “You’ve convinced yourself that there’s something wrong with you. That you’re somehow defective. It’s bullshit, and knowing that you think that makes me want to find that family of yours and shake the crap out of them.”

  She’d never found an empty threat so sexy before. “Aren’t doctors supposed to do no harm?” she asked, hiding her smile behind the sheet.

  A strong arm stretched beneath the covers and pulled her back to him. “I’ll make an exception.” Warm lips pressed against her temple as he wrapped himself around her. “You deserve everything, Roxie. Everything. Someday I hope to make you believe that.”

  If he was trying to drive her to tears, he was doing a damn fine job. Despite recent events, Roxie was not the crying type. Waterworks had never gotten her anywhere. They just pissed her off, which typically made her cry even harder. But no one like Alex had ever walked into her life before. No one had ever looked at her the way he did. Really looked. Until now, she’d been afraid of what they might see.

  “What if I’m not as special as you think I am?” she whispered.

  “What if you are?” he whispered back.

  Who’d have thought she’d ever find herself such an optimist? Letting the fear go, she tucked her head beneath his chin. “I think I could love you one day, Alex Fielding.”

  His arms tightened. “I’d like that very much.”

  Content for possibly the first time in her life, Roxie drifted off to sleep with a smile on her lips.

  Roxie left shortly after dawn to get in her run before spending the day with Callie. Henri had some writer-related event she couldn’t get out of, but she planned to be back on duty by Monday. Since the nail through the thumb incident, no one had allowed Roxie to pick up a hammer, leaving her to light duty—like keeping Callie company.

  Alex spent the morning whistling through his appointments and getting odd looks from Flora.

  “Are you sure you’re good?” she asked for the second time since returning from lunch. “I can’t remember ever seeing you this chipper.”

  “I’m happy all the time,” he reminded her.

  Flora scoffed. “Not this happy. Elder Wonnamack’s appointment was scheduled for ten minutes ago,” she said, getting back to business, “but he isn’t here yet. Elder isn’t usually late, so this is strange.” After taking a look out the front window, she crossed the lobby to take a closer look.

  “What is it?” Alex asked.

  “A Mercedes just rolled up, and unless Elder traded in that old truck of his, this has to be someone else.” She turned his way. “Did you make an appointment and not put it in the computer?”

  Alex rarely scheduled appointments. Besides, he didn’t know a soul on the island who owned a Mercedes.

  “He looks important,” Flora added, peering through the blind. “Kind of looks like you.”

  Heart in his throat, Alex remembered the one person he knew who drove only Mercedes. But he wouldn’t. . .

  Flora jumped back as the front door opened and his father stepped inside.

  “Dad?” Alex said, dumbfounded. “What are you doing here?”

  Removing black leather gloves, the older man said, “I’m here to talk some sense into you.” Taking in his surroundings, Dr. David Fielding, accomplished neurosurgeon and the bane of Alex’s existence, smacked the gloves against his thigh. “This is what you gave up Philadelphia for?”

  If he’d bothered to visit any time in the last three years, he’d know the answer to that.

  “Dad, I have patients this afternoon. If you wanted to talk to me, you should have called.” Alex would not clear his schedule simply because his father deigned to make an appearance. “How did you get here?”

  “I flew into Norfolk and rented a car.”

  Which meant an hour flight plus a four-hour drive, not including traffic delays. A lot of time to consider his approach, and he’d still opened with an unspoken insult to his son’s office. Amazing.

  “Can I take your coat?” Flora asked.

  His father spun as if he hadn’t noticed another person in the room. Of course, he hadn’t. In his world, nurses were invisible until he needed one.

  “Flora Meyer, this is my father, Dr. David Fielding.”

  “Nice to meet you,” she said.

  “Yes,” Dad replied, barely sparing Flora a glance. “Where can we talk? I assume you have an office here somewhere.”

  “I’m working,” Alex said, resisting the urge to tell him to go to hell.

  Jaw set, he took a seat along the wall. “I’ll wait.”

  The tardy patient picked that moment to enter the building. “Sorry for being late, Dr. Fielding. Old Bessy decided not to start on me.”

  “That’s all right.” Turning his back on his father, he said, “Come on back, and we’ll get started.”

  Alex didn’t give his father another thought. Maybe if he ignored him long enough, he’d give up and go home.

  Turning up the volume in her headphones, Roxie had to admit that this K-pop stuff was kind of fun. Emma had shown her a bit of the video she’d been watching last week, and though Roxie had no idea what they were saying, the music was catchy as hell. The teen had insisted on sending her a playlist, and she’d already found herself singing along to all of the English parts.

  Though the music was not what put a smile on her face. The night before had been pretty freaking great. There was something to be said for a man who understood the human anatomy, especially a woman’s. The medical degree had done nothing for Brendon. He must have slept through that class. But beyond the—ahem—multiple orgasms, Alex was like the human version of a happy pill. Roxie felt good when she was with him. Really good. And that was a completely new experience.

  Callie had been tired this morning, and after they chatted about Roxie’s interest in working with the wedding planning business—which Callie seemed excited about—she left the exhausted mother to nap in peace. Before noon, Roxie had vacuumed the area rugs, swept the rest of the floors, and shifted a load of towels from the washer to the dryer. After a quick bite to eat, she danced around the kitchen island on her way to take the trash out to the can, and then returned to unload the dishwasher. Job done, she glanced around for her next task and spotted the chaos of the playroom off the kitchen.

  “That should keep me busy.”

  Trains, planes, and automobiles covered the floor. Literally. Careful not to step on the dreaded Legos, she reached a shelving unit with nine empty bins and set out to organize Connor’s mess. Thanks to her time at the daycare, she knew her efforts wouldn’t last long, but Roxie took on the job anyway. A half hour later, she could see most of the floor.

  “Looking good,” she said aloud, popping out an earbud to scratch an itch. Right before putting it back in, Roxie heard a thud. Freezing in place, she listened and heard the faint call of her name. “Oh, God. Oh, God.”

  Roxie raced up the stairs, heart beating out of her chest and praying that Callie had just knocked a glass off her nightstand. But when she reached the master bedroom, the bed was empty.

  “Callie! Callie, where are you?”

  “It hurts.”

  Sprinting around the bed, she dashed into the bathroom to find the pregnant woman on the tile floor, panting and holding her stomach. “What happened? Did you fall?”

  Eyes closed tightly, Callie said, “I called but you didn’t answer.”

  Kneeling beside her, Roxie gripped her arm. “Can you get up?” That was when she saw the blood. “Oh, my God.”

  “What? What is it?” Another pain must have hit because Callie made a gurgling sound and curled forward. “Roxie, what’s happening? You have to help me.”

  She had one job. One goddamn job.

  “It’s okay. Let me get the phone.”

  Callie grabbed her hand. “Don’t leave me. Please, don’t leave me.”

  Roxie worked her
hand free. “I have to get the phone,” she said, her voice frantic. “We have to get help.”

  As the gurgle turned into a scream, she hurried to reach the receiver she knew was on the nightstand. Too panicked to think straight, she dialed the number to Alex’s office and rushed back to Callie, who was covered in sweat.

  “Fielding Family Practice, how can I—”

  “Flora, put Alex on the phone.”

  “Roxie?”

  “Please, Flora, get Alex.”

  “He’s with a—”

  “Put Alex on the fucking phone. Now!”

  The phone clicked, and Roxie prayed Callie would be okay. She had to be okay. How far was she now? Was it too early for the babies? Shit, shit, shit, why had she put in those stupid headphones?

  “Roxie, what’s wrong?” Alex said, and she’d never been so happy to hear anyone’s voice in her life.

  “It’s Callie. She’s on the bathroom floor, and there’s blood and—”

  “Blood?” Callie said, her eyes wide as she squeezed Roxie’s hand.

  “Don’t move her,” Alex ordered. “We’re going to hang up so I can get an ambulance over there. I’ll meet you at the hospital.”

  No. He couldn’t leave her. “I don’t know what to do. What do I do?”

  “Keep her as calm as you can.”

  Not fucking likely. “She says there’s pain.”

  “Roxie, we need to get the ambulance over there now. I’m hanging up. Just stay with her.”

  The line went dead, and she dropped the phone. “Alex says it’s going to be okay,” she assured Callie, lying for herself as much as for the woman suffering. “He’s sending an ambulance. They’ll be here in no time. You’re going to be all right.”

  Tears streamed down her cheeks. “What about the babies?”

  Brushing wet hair off her forehead, Roxie tried to sound calm. “They’re going to be okay, too. You’ve done everything to make sure of that, right? This is going to be fine.”

  Wedging herself between Callie and the bathtub, she held on tight and hoped to God that was true.

  Chapter Eleven

  Alex’s father insisted on driving to the hospital, and he had no time to argue. What Roxie described wasn’t good. At thirty-six weeks, the infants should be strong enough, but Alex didn’t know the full extent of what was going on and wouldn’t relax until all three of his patients were out of danger.

  He reached the hospital before the ambulance. His father trailed behind him, silent for once in his life. Based on her voice over the phone, he’d assumed that Roxie hadn’t been thinking straight enough to make any more calls.

  “Call Sam Edwards at the Anchor Inn and tell him to get here right away,” Alex told the nurse at the ER station. “Is Dr. Meyers on duty?”

  “He doesn’t come in until three, but Dr. Reyes is here.”

  The double doors leading to the ambulance bay shot open, and Alex expected to see Callie wheeled through. Instead, Bernie Matheson charged in.

  “Olaf fell off the roof. I can’t get him out of the car.”

  The nurse picked up the phone and called Dr. Reyes over the intercom before rushing to a wheelchair on her left.

  “What are the injuries?” she asked Bernie.

  “His head is bleeding, and he can’t walk.”

  There went Alex’s assistance for the delivery. Even if he called Stephen to come in now, the other doctor wouldn’t arrive in time.

  The doors shot open again, and this time it was the right patient. Roxie jogged alongside the gurney as a paramedic updated Alex on Callie’s condition. The blood pressure was way too high.

  “Take her straight to the delivery surgical unit. We need to get those babies out now.”

  “Yes, sir,” said the EMT before pressing the large metal button that opened the doors leading to the main wing of the facility. “I’m sorry, but you can’t go any farther, ma’am.”

  Roxie looked to Alex, her eyes so wide he wondered if she’d blinked since calling him. “She asked me not to leave her. I promised I wouldn’t leave her again.”

  He pulled her away so the paramedics could move on. “It’s okay. I’ll take it from here.”

  “It’s my fault,” she said, shaking her head.

  Unsure what she meant, Alex gave her a job to focus on. “Sam is being contacted, but call Beth and let her know what’s going on. Then call Henri, okay?” There wasn’t much Callie’s cousin could do from wherever she was, but he knew Roxie considered her a friend, and she looked like she could use one right now.

  “I didn’t hear her,” Roxie replied.

  “Honey, I have to go. Call Beth.” Turning to his father, Alex said, “Get ready to scrub in.”

  “Excuse me?” he said. “I’m no OB.”

  Jaw tight, Alex growled, “You’re a doctor and one of the best surgeons in the country. You can damn well help me get these babies out.”

  His father nodded. “Lead the way.”

  Alex cast one last glance to Roxie, who looked shell-shocked, but he had bigger issues to deal with right now. “Call Beth!” he ordered as the double doors closed behind him.

  Roxie had to leave.

  Beth wanted to stay at the hospital, so she drove herself home. There was no way she could stay and face Sam. She’d screwed up once again, and this time that screwup could cost a woman and her babies their lives.

  Callie’s voice kept playing over and over in her head.

  I called but you didn’t answer. I called but you didn’t answer.

  Maybe this wasn’t her fault. Maybe this would have happened whether Roxie had been there or not. And maybe the earth was flat and politicians were honest.

  Facing the inevitable, she tossed clothes into the open suitcase on her bed, emptying the dresser drawers as she went. When the third drawer stuck, she tugged too hard, and everything flew to the floor.

  “Damn it.”

  Collecting the scattered socks, she found the last one near the window that overlooked Alex’s house. She’d come so close to having something good for once. Roxie shook the thought away. There was no point in being dramatic. As he’d said the night before, they’d barely known each other for a month. No one fell in love in a month.

  I did.

  Roxie dropped onto the bed beside the half-empty suitcase. When the hell had she fallen in love with Alex Fielding? Several possibilities came to mind. The day he’d driven her home and she learned that they weren’t so different. The night he’d made her dinner and let her have all the cheesecake.

  The umbrella. When he’d protected her from the rain even though it meant getting drenched himself. He’d been doing that since they met. Protecting her. Saving her.

  “No,” she said aloud. “I am not in love with anyone.”

  After throwing the socks into the suitcase, she reached for the last drawer when someone called her name from downstairs.

  “Roxie, the babies are here, and they’re beautiful!”

  Relief washed over her, and she sank onto the bed once more. Tears slipped from her eyes, both happy ones for Callie, and sad ones for herself. She glanced out over the bay. Roxie was going to miss that view.

  “You have to come see them,” Beth said as she burst into the room. Spotting the suitcase, her smile faded. “What are you doing? Why are you packing?”

  Swiping the tears away, she said, “I have to go.”

  “But why?”

  “I messed up. Callie could have lost the twins because of me. No one is going to want me around after that.” She crossed to the closet and lifted out an armful of clothes.

  Beth closed the suitcase. “What are you talking about? Callie went into labor. How is that your fault? If anything, you’ve helped us get her this far.”

  Roxie shook her head. “I was the one with her today. I was supposed to take care of her, and I didn’t.”

  “You called Alex. You stayed with her all the way to the hospital.” When Roxie threw the clothes on the bed and tried to open
the suitcase, Beth held it shut. “She’s lucky that you were there, Rox. If anything, you saved her.”

  “I wouldn’t have had to save her if I hadn’t messed up in the first place.” They fought over the suitcase again, and Roxie snapped. “Don’t you get it? She said she called for me, but I didn’t come. I didn’t come because I didn’t hear her because I had stupid headphones in. It’s because of me that Callie fell and almost lost the babies.”

  “Callie didn’t fall,” Beth argued.

  If only that were true. “I was there. I found her on the bathroom floor.”

  Taking Roxie’s hands, Beth tugged her onto the bed. “Callie said she didn’t realize that her water broke until she got to the bathroom. That’s when the contraction hit, and she sat down because it hurt so much. Honey, no one fell. You could have been standing right beside her, and she still would have plopped down on that floor.”

  That couldn’t be right. “But there was blood.”

  “I don’t know about that, but would she be asking for you if she blamed you?”

  A glimmer of hope lit in Roxie’s chest. “She asked for me?”

  “Yes! Now will you come on?” Beth pulled her off the bed. “We have babies to coo over.” The tears started again, and Beth laughed as she brushed them from her cousin’s cheeks. “No more talk about leaving, okay?”

  Roxie nodded, unable to speak around the lump in her throat. If Callie didn’t fall, then maybe Beth was right. This wasn’t her fault. That didn’t mean Sam or anyone else would see it that way. Bracing for the worst, she followed Beth down the stairs.

  “Be gentle, honey,” Callie said to Connor as he met his baby sisters for the first time. “That’s it. They’re soft, aren’t they?”

  The little boy stared with wide eyes and pulled his hand away. “They stay here?” he asked.

  Sam laughed. “They will for now, buddy, but we’ll take them home in a couple of days.”

 

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