Rachel And The M.d.

Rachel sensed rather than saw the other two girls nod in silent agreement.

“Why is Dad so uptight, anyway?” Sydney asked.

“Doesn’t he know that curfews are…jeez, well, that they’re so old-fashioned?” Sasha added.

Rachel suppressed a sigh. “He loves you,” she told the girls. “He’s only trying to be the best dad he can be. And as for curfews being old-fashioned—” she couldn’t keep the humor out of her voice “—I want to hear you tell me that again once you’re raising children of your own.”

“Oh, I would never tell my kids when they have to come in.”

Laughter actually bubbled up from Rachel’s throat, and she had trouble quelling it. She found the utter sincerity in Sydney’s tone comical, although she knew the child really thought she meant what she was saying.

“And I would never make them leave a party early.”

Sophie’s sullen countenance made Rachel sigh. “Look, guys. You’re going to the party. You’d better be willing to compromise about when you come home.”

“We are going to the party,” Sasha agreed with Rachel, pointing out the fact to her siblings. “And we get to pick out new dresses, too.”

The parking lot of the mall was nearly deserted on this snowy night.

“I say we have some dinner,” Rachel said as she turned off the engine of her car. “Then we’ll hit the stores.”

“Look, Rachel won’t be gone for long,” Sydney told her sisters in the restaurant. “She’ll be back from the ladies’ room before we know it…so listen up, we need to talk.”

“About what?” Sasha asked, dipping a French fry in ketchup and nibbling the end. “This curfew thing?”

Sophie looked interested.

“Not just the curfew,” Sydney said. “But Dad in general. He’s so protective. It’s weirding me out.”

“Me, too,” Sasha agreed.

Sophie automatically whispered, “Me, three,” the onion ring she held in her fingers for the moment forgotten.

“We’ve gotta do something,” Sydney declared. “And we’ve gotta do it now. Or he’s going to ruin our lives. We’re going to be teenagers next month.”

The other sisters nodded, all three growing silent as they pondered. Any passerby would have gotten the impression that the girls were contemplating paradise.

“We need to find some way to get him to stop pestering us about where we’re going and who we’re with and when we’ll be home.”

Sasha’s mouth curled up derisively. “This is Dad we’re talking about. That’s never going to happen.”

Insulted, Sydney shot back, “It could happen. All we need is a plan.”

“What we need,” Sophie said, “is to present Dad with something other than us to concentrate on.”

“His patients have always taken up a lot of his time.” Another French fry disappeared between Sasha’s lips.

“It’s not nice to hope people get sick.” Sophie dropped the onion ring and wiped her fingers on a napkin.

“I’d never do that.” Sasha looked aggrieved. “I was just sayin’—”

“What we need,” Sydney said, “is a diversion for Dad.”

“Hey!” Sophie’s dark eyes lit up. “Remember when Dr. Greg hired that nanny a couple months ago? Miss Jane turned his life upside down.”

“We’re too old for a nanny,” Sydney said.

“Jeez, Sydney, you’re so infantile.” Sophie rolled her eyes. “I’m not talking about a nanny for us. I’m talking about a nanny for Dad.”

Her sisters looked at her as if they thought she had lost her marbles.

Again she rolled her eyes. “A woman…for Dad.”

“Eeewww!” Sasha’s face scrunched up tight. “What woman would want Dad? He’s old.”

“Wow, Sophie,” Sydney breathed, “you’re a genius. I remember Dr. Greg called Dad and Dr. Travis and asked them to come into the office for those emergency meetings of theirs lots of times. All about Miss Jane.”

Sophie looked more sure of herself. “And come to think of it, Dr. Travis is pretty shook up over having Miss Diana came to live with him, too.” She took a moment to ponder.

“How are we going to get a woman to come live with us?” Sasha was clearly baffled.

“We don’t really need to have some woman in our house…do we?” Trepidation weighed heavy in Sydney’s voice.

Sophie shook her head. “All we need is a distraction. Something that will take Dad’s focus off us. Like Miss Jane captured Dr. Greg’s attention. And Miss Diana has Dr. Travis’s. We need for Dad to get all worked up. Just like Dr. Greg and Dr. Travis. We need Dad to get so upset that he’ll call special meetings and stuff.” Her brow furrowed suddenly. “Wonder why men can’t work out their woman troubles by themselves?”

“That’s what we need!” Sydney said. “Or rather, that’s what Dad needs. Woman troubles.”

“Okay,” Sasha agreed, “but we’re right back to where we were before. Where are we going to find a woman who would be the least bit interested in our father?” Again, her face screwed up as if the mere idea was downright repulsive.

“Lots of kids at school have parents who are divorced,” Sophie said.

Sasha blurted, “Hey, Debbie’s mom is single.”

“Don’t even go there!” Sydney shivered. “Could you imagine Dad hooked up with Debbie’s mom? That woman is too snobby for her own good.”

“I’m with you,” Sophie said. “I don’t mind going to Debbie’s party, but I don’t want her to be my step-sister.”

“Jeez,” Sasha said, anxiety lighting her eyes, “you never said this woman-trouble thing would turn into anything permanent. I don’t know…” She was obviously having some serious second thoughts.

“Hey,” Sophie said, “I don’t want Dad to get married…or…or even have a steady girlfriend any more than you do. But if we’re going to have any fun during our teenage years, we’ve gotta do something!”

Sydney spoke again, “And if there’s any chance of Dad gettin’ married, I sure don’t want to be related to any of the kids from school. Talk about weird.”

All three were silent as they thought about their dilemma.

Finally, Sasha said, “Well, I hate to keep bringing this up, but we still haven’t solved the problem of finding a woman.”

Just then Rachel arrived back at the table.

The clear and obvious solution smacked all three of the girls in the face at the same instant. Their eyes widened as they looked at one another.

And then they burst into gales of giggles.

Rachel cocked her head to one side. “What scheme are you girls hatching now?” she asked.

The girls laughed all the harder.

“I’m so glad you saved me a few of those onion rings,” Rachel said, swiping one from the plate and popping it into her mouth. Then she slid into the booth next to Sophie, like an innocent lamb strolling into a butcher’s shop.

Chapter Two

Something odd was going on. The girls’ behavior was…fishy. They seemed to be arguing among themselves, Rachel thought. However, their voices never rose above a hushed whisper and they seemed to engage in this secret battle only when they went into the dressing rooms to try on outfits. And every time Rachel was stirred to intervene and probe the problem, they would smile up at her innocently and make some remark that led her to believe that they were deliriously happy with their siblings and all was right with the world.

Yes, something was definitely fishy.

In the department store, Rachel had slipped into the fitting area with a lovely dress made of a fabric she thought Sydney would love. As she stood on one side of the curtain, Sophie and Sydney on the other, Rachel overheard Sophie snap, “I will not let you ruin my evening.”

To which Sydney had replied, “But this was your idea!”

Rachel had no clue what Sydney had suggested that might spoil their shopping trip at the mall, and she hadn’t a chance to hear another word as Sasha rushed into the fitting area behind her, loudly calling Rachel’s name and proclaiming how much she adored the dress Rachel had chosen for Sydney.

Luckily, whatever hullabaloo had been brewing between the triplets eventually subsided and died away completely. Or seemed to, at least. And two and a half hours after arriving at the mall, having visited only one major department store and three apparel shops, the girls were outfitted for the party.

“These after-Christmas sales are great,” Rachel said, smiling through her fatigue. “Your dad is going to be quite pleased when he learns how much money we saved.”

Judging from the girls’ lukewarm reactions, Rachel came to the conclusion that frugality wasn’t in their adolescent dictionary.

“What do you say we stop at the food court for an ice cream before we head home?” she asked them.

Their reactions to this suggestion weren’t the least bit hesitant or halfhearted. Rachel just shook her head and laughed.

Once the four of them were seated, each feasting on a mound of ice cream smothered in various toppings, Sydney said, “Rachel, would you consider coming to the party with us?”

Her spoon had been poised midway between her dish and her mouth, but Rachel forgot all about luscious fudge sauce, so surprised was she by the question.

Sasha piped up, “Oh, you wouldn’t be coming as a guest. You’d be a chaperone.”

“I see.”

Was that hesitation Rachel saw in Sophie’s expression? But when next she looked, the child’s face was filled with a smile, even if it was tight-lipped.

Sophie said, “Debbie’s mother asked last week if some of the parents could come to help out, but…w-well…we didn’t really want—”

Rachel smiled. “I understand. When you’re twelve years old, adult supervision is the last thing you want.”

She slipped the fudge-encrusted spoon between her lips and rolled the chocolate around in her mouth. After she swallowed, she asked, “But don’t you think you ought to talk to your dad about this? His feelings might be hurt if you don’t give him the opportunity to attend the party.” She hastily added, “As a chaperone, of course.”

The triplets looked at each other, and Rachel got the distinct impression that they were actually communicating by some sort of mental telepathy. It was silly, really, but then again, she’d read that identical siblings often had a special bond.

Finally, Sydney said, “Would you go?” She averted her gaze and added, “You know, if Dad says it’s okay?”

Rachel looked down at her dish of ice cream, swirled her spoon in the whipped cream and nudged at the cherry as she dealt with the sudden emotion welling inside her.

Warmth filled her heart, and unexpected tears blurred her vision. The love she felt for these children was overwhelming at times. Here they were, getting ready to go to their first semiformal party, one of them even contemplating experiencing her very first kiss, and they were asking her to be a part of their special evening.

Memories bombarded Rachel. In the blink of an eye, she was standing beside her best friend’s hospital bed, promising Olivia that she’d watch out for the girls. That she’d help to nurture them. That she’d do all she could to see to it that they grew into intelligent, well-rounded, happy individuals.

Olivia wasn’t here to attend the triplets’ first fancy party. Olivia couldn’t snap any pictures of them all dressed up for the evening. Olivia couldn’t give them advice about boys, or buy them pretty dresses, or act as a chaperone.

So Rachel would step forward and do all of these things.

“What’s wrong?” Sophie asked, a frown biting deeply into her young brow.

“Why are you upset?” Sasha put her spoon down and stared at Rachel with worry in her gaze.

“I’m fine,” Rachel assured them softly. “I was just thinking…”

She let the rest of her words trail off. The girls didn’t need to be reminded of sad memories of their mother and what she and they were missing. No, this should be a joyful time for them.

“I was just thinking how happy I am that you asked me to go with you.” She grinned at them. “I’d love to chaperone the party.”

“Great!” Sydney said. “Now maybe Dad will let us stay out later than twelve-thirty.”

Ah, Rachel thought, so the curfew had been what motivated them to invite her along. Leave it to practical, outspoken Sydney to burst Rachel’s heartwarming fantasy of playing mommy.

But Rachel didn’t feel hurt. She smiled, catching the eye of each one of them. The girls had no idea of the depth of her love for them, she was certain. She might not be their mother, she might not have given birth to them, but she sure did love them bunches and bunches. Like any mother loved her children.

Scooping up another spoonful of ice cream slathered with fudge sauce, Rachel said, “I can’t promise you that your curfew will be any later. But I can promise you that I’ll be at that party. With bells on!”

Sydney, Sophie and Sasha looked satisfied. Almost too satisfied.

Sloan looked in the mirror and straightened his tie. He was feeling pretty awkward about the New Year’s Eve party he was about to chaperone for his daughters.

On the one hand, his heart felt all warm and mushy from his having been asked to attend. His emotions might have been categorized as something less than masculine by any male who wasn’t a father. But he was sure dads all over the world would understand perfectly what he was going through. When the girls had approached him about chaperoning, their eyes had looked everywhere but at him, and their voices had been hesitant. They’d been as cute as little ladybugs. There had been no way he could have refused them.

But on the other hand, he’d be lying if he said he was really looking forward to this event.

His daughters would be laughing and gossiping, as girls their age were wont to do. However, they’d also be interacting with their friends. With boys. That idea just didn’t sit well with him.

He wasn’t a total idiot. He knew his girls had to grow up. But did they have to do it now?

Couldn’t they wait? Like…a dozen or so years? Maybe then he’d be ready for this stage in their lives. As it was now, he wasn’t prepared at all.

Then another question floated through his brain: was any father ever ready for his little girls to grow up? He seriously doubted it.

Scowling at his image in the mirror, he murmured, “Growing up, indeed.”

His daughters were only twelve. They were too young for parties that would keep them out after their curfew. They were too young to be dancing with boys. Flirting with boys. Kissing boys—

He snapped off the thought as surely and as thoroughly as if it had been a lightbulb. He didn’t mind plunging his brain into total darkness. Anything was better than continuing along this line of panic-inducing ponderings. If he didn’t shut these thoughts down, he’d change his mind altogether and make Sydney, Sasha and Sophie ring in the New Year right here at home. And they’d never forgive him for that. Never.

So…how bad could the evening be? he wondered. He would be present at the party to watch all the goings-on. And when it came to his girls, he had the eye of an eagle.

The doorbell rang and Sloan grumbled under his breath. His daughters had probably offered one of their friends a lift to the party and had forgotten to tell him about it. He didn’t mind. He only wished they would keep him apprised of the plans they made, then revamped, then revised yet again.

“Girls,” he called down the hallway toward their rooms, “I’m going down to answer the door. You’d better hurry it up. It’ll be time to go soon.”

Sounds of frantic scrambling and panicked shrieks made him smile. One thing about his daughters, they could have five full hours to get themselves ready, and still they’d need more time.

He was still chuckling when he reached the front door and pulled it open. The sight he beheld made the grin on his face freeze as if his mouth had suddenly turned to solid concrete.

It was…it was…

Rachel smiled a silent greeting, stepped inside, closed the door behind her and then let her dress coat slide from her shoulders.

Thoughts refused to form coherently. Hell, they refused to form at all. It was as if his brain had completely shut down.

He took a deep breath. Forced himself to swallow. And blink, once, then again.

She looked too stunning for words.

Her flame-red hair—usually tamed by some sort of elastic band or hair clip when she was at the office—was wild about her shoulders, making for a very sultry look. This new do made her normally pale skin glow and look more delicate, more beautiful than he’d ever seen it.

At work, Rachel looked like any typical woman. However, tonight she’d done something to accentuate her brown eyes. He’d never realized before that her irises were flecked with a warm gold color that reminded him of heated honey. And her mouth. The bow was…utterly perfect. And he’d never seen her full bottom lip glisten so. The effect was…overwhelmingly kissable.

His mouth went dry at the thought, and he knew he should be ashamed of himself. But his mind was too busy with other things to take the time to do any silent berating.

Her black cocktail dress was shot through with silver threads, the fabric following the contours of her slender body. His gaze seemed to have a mind of its own as it roved down the length of her, over the swell of her breasts, the curve of her tiny waist that flowed right on down into flared hips.

An hourglass. She was a soft, luscious hourglass.

He choked as the startling thought lodged in his throat like some inhaled morsel of food.

Immediately, Rachel was clapping him on the back.

“You okay?” she asked, following him as he retreated into the living room.

If the truth were known, he was trying to flee. From what, he had no clue. But she stuck with him, following on those long, black-stocking-clad legs. She raised graceful, milky arms, and with her petite hands began slapping him soundly between the shoulder blades.

Aren’t you cold? he wanted to ask. Didn’t she know it was winter? Where were the sleeves of her dress? He’d never seen Rachel display so much…skin.

He worked with her in the office every single weekday. However, it was office policy that the employees wore colorful smocks over their attire. The nurses and office staff had a different color smock for every day of the week. He’d never realized just how shapeless those uniforms were. Before this moment, he’d never even realized that Rachel had a body.

Well, of course he’d known she’d had a body. He was a doctor, for goodness sake. But he never realized what a body she had!

Oh, hell.

Get a grip, he silently commanded himself. What on earth was the matter with him?

He needed to put a bit of space between them, that was all. He’d anticipated opening the door to one of his daughters’ friends. He hadn’t expected to see Rachel standing there at all. Her appearance had startled him.

Startled him? She’d shocked clear thinking right out of his brain. Like a solid whack with a sledgehammer right between the eyeballs.

“I’m fine,” he told her, ducking to the left. “I’m okay.”

As soon as he spoke, she stopped, and he continued on several paces just to give himself a little distance. Once he reached the couch, he paused to catch his breath, gather his wits. Only then did he turn to face her.

“You sure you’re okay?”

The concern in her golden-bronze gaze affected him mightily. Usually, her interest was focused on his children. Rachel was their godmother. And she’d gone out of her way, especially since Olivia’s death, to see that his girls were well-cared for. But recently she seemed more attached to his family than ever.

No, he silently answered her question. I’m not at all sure that I’m okay.

However, what he said was, “Sure. I’m fine. Just got a little choked up is all. I’m okay now. Really.”

The entire time his mouth was uttering the words, he had to fight with his eyes to keep them focused on Rachel’s face. His gaze kept wanting to slide down the length of her body, to get one more glimpse of those sinfully long and shapely legs of hers. Sometime during the last few frantic seconds, his subconscious must have noticed that the hem of her sexy little cocktail dress ended at midthigh. The urge to gape, stare, ogle, was pretty darned near overwhelming. He couldn’t fathom what had gotten into him.

She sure did look like a million bucks. Certainly, to have realized that fact—obviously so, he was afraid—and not to comment on it would seem more than a little odd. So, tugging absently at the lapels of his jacket, he said, “Y-you, ah, you look great.”

“So do you.”

For the first time, he vaguely recognized that her gaze was clouded with what looked like confusion. A tiny crease marred the delicate skin between her eyes. However, he was still fighting off the strange effect her appearance had had on him, and that took so much effort that he didn’t really have it in him to wonder too awfully much about what she might find bewildering.

“You obviously have plans tonight.” As soon as he uttered the words, he was struck by the strangest feeling. An odd heaviness sat on his chest like a cement block.

“I was about to say the same thing to you.”

Was that accusation he heard in her tone? he wondered. This whole situation had him feeling odd. Just a little off-kilter.

When he didn’t answer, she said, “I’m going to the New Year’s Eve party with the girls. They asked if I would help Debbie’s mother by acting as a chaperone. And I agreed. I’m here to pick up the girls. Are they ready?” Then her head tilted and she asked, “They didn’t tell you?”

Immediately upon hearing that Rachel would be attending the same party as he, the bizarre heaviness seemed to evaporate. What took its place was a curious lightness that wafted around him like sweet, candy-scented air. But he no more understood this sugary feeling than he did the other emotions that had reached up out of nowhere to grab at him.

What was wrong with his central nervous system? Was he coming down with a cold?

“No,” he told her, feeling preoccupied with the emotions churning inside him. “The girls never said a word.” He felt his brow furrow with uncertainty. Why hadn’t the girls let him know they had asked Rachel to go to the party?

Kids. Would they ever become responsible for their actions?

Now, Rachel looked as if she felt awkward.

“Y-you,” she stammered hesitantly, “look as if you have plans for the evening. Are you going out?”

Then he chuckled, nodding ironically. “I’m going to the party, too.”

The glow he had noticed seemed to fade and Rachel’s face suddenly took on an ashen shade.

“You are?”

“Uh-huh,” he told her softly. “I am. They asked me today. I guess the three of them somehow got their signals crossed.”

“But they were all together when…” Rachel’s thought seemed to peter out, and she shook her head. “It doesn’t matter,” she said.

A sudden thought struck him. “Look, since I’m going…there’s really no need for you to be troubled—”

“But, Dad!”

“We want Rachel to go—”

“She’s gotta go, Dad. Debbie’s mom is expecting her help.”

Sloan turned to see his daughters standing at the foot of the stairs.

The first things he noticed were their expressions. Surreptitious. Sly. Even sneaky wouldn’t have been too harsh a word to describe the looks in their eyes. What were they up to?

Before he could give the question the attention it deserved, he noticed their attire. His little girls were beautiful in their party dresses and fancy shoes. Looking all grown-up. Their long, dark hair glistening. His mouth opened, his breath leaving him in a rush.

His daughters were lovely. Lovely enough to make everything else slide into the background of his brain as his heart contracted with love.

Music blared at an earsplitting level. Sloan positioned himself at the very back of the large banquet room in order to save his hearing. He couldn’t believe how elaborate the party decorations were. Mrs. Fox, Debbie’s mother, had gone to great lengths to make her daughter’s New Year’s Eve bash a success.

Colorful helium balloons bobbed from ribbons anchored to every conceivable surface. Streamers were draped from the corners of the room, some of them dangling straight down from the ceiling, making a sort of obstacle course that the kids seemed to love. The tables were covered with cloths that had been sprinkled with shimmering confetti. One long table was weighed down with food and beverages. The dance floor was lit from above with rainbow lighting, and the tunes were being played by a professional disc jockey. A professional DJ for twelve-year-olds?