Her Hired Husband

His howl brought Noah out of his momentary astonishment and he hurriedly placed a swooning Mrs. Vanderkellen on the sofa. “See to your grandmother,” he shouted at his fake wife as he rushed to Hubert.

Automatically he began a preliminary examination, wondering grimly when his workday would end and his long-anticipated vacation begin? This whole blasted day had been one time-consuming hassle after another. He’d thought he’d never get out of the hospital. When he pulled into Sam’s sister’s driveway, he’d been laboring under the delusion his headaches were over for the next two weeks. The cute pregnant lady who’d struggled down those steps hadn’t given him any reason to change his mind. Not until she’d grabbed his hand, slipped a wedding ring onto his finger and whispered urgently that they were deliriously happy.

That’s when he’d stepped into the Twilight Zone, and come face-to-face with a past he’d thought he’d left behind half a lifetime ago in Boston. He wasn’t surprised that Abigail and Hubert hadn’t immediately known him. After all, he’d left Massachusetts after graduating from high school and had only returned a few times to visit his family at Christmas. It was funny how life could deal you such crazy, surprising hands.

As he examined Hubert, he had the fleeting wish he was still dealing with last-minute hospital hassles. Since he’d come into Sam’s sister’s house a half hour ago, things had gone a little too nuts for his taste.

All he knew was, the pretty blonde, no doubt Sam’s sister, was terribly uncomfortable around her grandparents. Why that was true, he couldn’t imagine. He hadn’t known the Vanderkellens well, but they had never seemed like demons. Just a little pompous. Still, her obvious dismay had been enough for him to go along with her wordless plea.

Those big, gray eyes had an uncanny effect on him. Or maybe it was her advanced pregnancy that was the deciding factor. Being an obstetrician, it would be natural for him to want to ease the stress of a woman in her condition—apparently even if he didn’t have the faintest idea what in blazes he was doing.

He heard muted voices in the parlor and gathered Sam’s sister was seeing to her grandmother, who was regaining consciousness. Thank goodness for that, at least. “We’ll get you to a hospital, Mr. Vanderkellen, and—”

“No,” the older man wheezed. “No hospital.” He clutched Noah’s arm. “I don’t like hospitals—I don’t need one.”

“Don’t move him!” came a worried female voice from the parlor. “We need to call an ambulance!”

Sam’s sister appeared at the foyer entrance.

“How’s your grandmother?”

“Feeling faint, but she’s getting color back in her face.” Her worried expression deepened. “What are you doing to Grandfather?” She hurried across the foyer and clutched Noah’s shoulder as though attempting to make him back off. “You’re not to move him until the ambulance arrives.”

“This will go much faster if you don’t grab at me.” He leaned out of her grip.

“He needs a…” She paused. The next thing he knew she was whispering sharply in his ear. “He needs a doctor!”

“I know that.” Noah turned to frown at her. He’d been at the hospital since 5:00 a.m. He was tired and he didn’t feel like being grabbed, even if the grabber was attractive. “See if your grandmother would like a drink of water or a cool cloth for her head.”

She looked upset and a warning blazed in her pretty eyes. “But—sweetie —you can’t—”

“It’s my bad back,” Hubert broke in, moaning. “I’ve thrown it out, again. It’s nothing—serious.”

With the patient’s admission of a chronic back problem, there was every indication medication and bed rest was all Hubert needed, but Noah tried again. “It would be better if you were examined at a hospital.”

“No!” Hubert said gruffly, trying to prop himself up. “I won’t have it. I detest those places.” He winced, but refused to lie back.

“Okay, okay,” Noah said. “Hold still. Let me help you.” With great care, he lifted the man in his arms and carried him into the parlor. Mrs. Vanderkellen was now sitting, nervous fingers patted her hair. Clearly she wasn’t a woman who lost her composure without suffering greatly for it.

“Sweetheart?” Noah tried not to grit his teeth with the lie.

His sham wife caught up. “Yes—dear?”

“Could you help your grandmother to that easy chair. It would be best if Hubert could lie flat.”

“Oh…” His deliriously happy partner in crime didn’t look deliriously happy as she scanned her pale grandmother. “Sure.” She moved to the older woman’s side. “Grandmother? May I help you to the chair?” She indicated the one she’d been sitting in. “Do you think you can make it?”

Mrs. Vanderkellen didn’t look particularly delirious, either. “Of course, I’m fine.” She eyed the floor as she was helped to the chair, as though expecting to see some beast leap out at her. Once she was seated, she lifted her feet to the ottoman and peered at Hubert. “Is it his back?”

Noah nodded. “I’m afraid so.” He laid his moaning burden on the vacated couch. “You said this has happened before?”

“Yes.” Hubert nodded, then closed his eyes in pain. “A muscle goes into spasms.”

“When this happens,” Noah asked, “what does your personal physician prescribe?”

“To stay active and walk it off,” came a tart rejoinder from his wife.

Hubert made a face. “Complete bed rest and a muscle relaxant,” he whispered through a moan, making it evident the effort to talk was agonizing. “I don’t recall the name of the medication.”

“He’s faking!”

“Please, Mrs. Vanderkellen,” Noah said, using his most compassionate bedside manner. “I need to talk to your husband.”

She crossed her arms and flicked her gaze away, so he turned back to his patient. “Are you allergic to anything, sir?”

“No,” Hubert whispered.

“Try to relax.” Noah patted the man lightly on his shoulder. “I’ll call in a prescription and have it sent over.”

“Oh, Grandfather, I’m so sorry! I shouldn’t have left that metal sculpture in the hallway.”

Little Mrs. Expectant ducked in front of Noah, taking her grandfather’s hand. He flinched and let out a long, elaborate groan.

“I don’t recommend yanking on him,” Noah said. “He’s in severe distress.” Turning away, he headed for the foyer where he’d seen a telephone table.

“I wasn’t yank—where are you going? What are you doing?” she demanded.

The sound of sneakers squeaking on the wooden parlor floor told him she was catching up. He glanced her way, focusing on those big, worried eyes. “Your grandfather needs medication.” Striding across the foyer, he reached the telephone table and lifted the receiver of the old, black telephone. “What’s the nearest pharmacy?”

“Bert’s Drugstore. Why?”

Deciding her question would be answered if she hung around listening, he dialed. “Information, give me the number for Bert’s Drugstore.”

“What are you doing?” she asked in a suspicious whisper.

“What does it sound like? I’m having a prescription—thank you, operator.” He hung up with a finger on the disconnect button then dialed again.

“Are you crazy?” she demanded under her breath. “You can’t—”

“Hush,” he ordered, shifting away. “This is Dr. Noah Barrett, I need a prescription sent out to—” He paused, then remembered the scrap of paper Sam had written his sister’s address on, and pulled it from his trouser pocket. “—to 95099 Bobolink Lane. It’s at the end of the road. The prescription is for Hubert Vanderkellen.”

As he told the pharmacist the medication and dosage, he felt several adamant yanks on his shirt. Exasperated, he peered over his shoulder. “What is it?”

“How dare you presume to make a diagnosis!” Mrs. Gray-Eyes charged, her whisper rough and low-pitched. “Phoning in a prescription and pretending to be a doctor is a criminal offense!”

The call completed, he hung up and scowled at her. Those huge eyes were round, horrified orbs the size of hula hoops. Her outraged expression stirred something in him and his annoyance receded a notch. “You told me I was a doctor,” he said, with a wry twist of his lips. “If you keep changing the rules, I might get confused.”

She gasped, her utter dismay curiously charming. He heard Mrs. Vanderkellen snap something to her husband, but couldn’t make it out. “By the way…” He canted his head toward the parlor. “What got into your grandmother?”

“Don’t change the subject! You can’t go around phoning in prescriptions, pretending to be a doctor! You can go to jail for that kind of thing, buster!” She poked his chest. “That fifty bucks I’m paying you won’t cover your bail.”

“Fifty?” he asked, surprised and amused she’d planned to pay some stranger to play her husband.

“Don’t even think about asking for more money!” She poked again. “And that kiss back there. That was way over the line!”

He grinned. “Want me to take it back?”

“Take it…” Her annoyed expression turned to confusion. “How?”

He lowered his head so his mouth was a couple of inches above hers. “Like this.”

When he moved closer, his intent to kiss her made clear, she jerked away, her mouth forming an O at his audacity. “Look, you can be as supercilious as you want on your own time, but right now you’re on my payroll.”

He grinned. “Supercilious, huh? That’s the first time I’ve ever been called that.”

“It was the nicest word I could come up with on such short notice!”

He couldn’t resist a low chuckle at her mettle. “Okay, if you won’t let me take the kiss back, let’s call it even. You don’t owe me any money.”

She looked startled, but misgiving continued to crinkle her forehead. “Don’t be silly. I pay my way. Now move. I’m calling an ambulance!”

“Your grandfather wants no part of hospitals and considering what he told me, I think he’s right.”

“Oh, you think he’s right, do you?” Her sarcasm was so thick Noah would have been hard-pressed to cut it with a saw. “I’m so relieved!”

A knock sounded at the door and the pregnant little chest-poker froze. “Who could that be?”

How would he know? “It’s probably for me,” Noah taunted.

She made a face at his gibe before turning toward the door. He had a feeling he knew who was at the door and halted her with a hand on her wrist while he fished his wallet out of his hip pocket. “Give him this.”

She frowned in confusion, as he pulled out two twenties and a ten and stuffed them into her hand.

“What’s this for?”

“Just hang on to it.”

She started to say something but another knock snapped her head around and she hurried to the door.

“Yes?”

Noah couldn’t hear what was being said, but he could tell the visitor was a man.

“Oh!” His hostess said in a half whisper. “Oh, my…” She stepped out on the porch and closed the door for a count of three, then was back. Her face had gone a rosy-peach color.

“Was it for me?” he kidded with a lift of an eyebrow.

His question seemed to bring her out of some kind of daze and she flicked her attention to him. “No—it was—an orderly…”

“Did you give him the fifty?”

“He took it,” she whispered, still looking befuddled. “He—he said I owed it…” After a second, her features closed in a glower. She walked to Noah and got as close as her pregnancy would allow. “Just who are you and what are you doing here?”

He frowned back, mocking her. “I tried to tell you when I got here.”

The color drained from her face. “Why don’t you tell me now?”

He checked his watch. Time was rapidly slipping away. “I’m a friend of Sam’s, and if I’m going to catch my flight, I need to get out of here.”

“Are you a—a real doctor, by chance?” she asked, her voice weak.

“Not by chance, by eight years of medical school.”

That horrified look returned. She had gigantic eyes, a glimmery silver color he couldn’t recall seeing before. Her white-blond hair was pulled back to her nape in a loose ponytail. Flyaway wisps framed her face in a feathery halo. Her right earlobe sported three studs, all silver, a heart, a ladybug and a hummingbird. Her left, just the heart. A bright pink T-shirt peeked out from beneath a paisley maternity dress. He could see her shapely legs from just above her knees down to purple crush socks and yellow, high-top canvas shoes.

She was nothing like he’d pictured Sam Johnson’s little sister might be. Sam was a dark, quiet, button-down guy in wire-rimmed glasses. His doctorly regard gave nothing away. Noah seriously doubted Little Mrs. Bountiful, here, had kept an emotion to herself in her whole life.

She had an electricity about her that was distinct and magnetic. He could feel it arcing through the air, blunting his brain. That had to be it, since he couldn’t imagine how his current circumstances would seem even vaguely palatable but for those big, animated eyes.

“So—so you’re really a doctor?” The question was subdued and filled with astonishment, as though she’d just asked, So you’re really the Tooth Fairy?

“I’ve got my doctor decoder ring and everything,” he teased, taking pity on her, and unsure why. Possibly those big eyes, now a little teary.

“I thought you were—”

“I know. Forget it,” he said. “Sam asked me to come by on my way to the airport to pick up his prescription goggles. The flight to Bonaire leaves in an hour, so I need to get to the airport.” He stuck out a hand, deciding he had just enough time for a quick introduction. “I’m Noah Barrett. Sam and I are going scuba diving. Does that ring any bells?”

She swallowed and slipped her hand into his. He was startled to feel calluses on her palm, and her handshake was strong. What did this little female do all day, dig ditches? “Sam said something about scuba diving,” she murmured. “I knew he was leaving on vacation today.”

Noah cocked his head toward the parlor. “Did your grandmother tell you what caused her scare?”

It wasn’t until the blonde removed her hand that Noah realized he hadn’t let go. “She saw a gecko run by and apparently assumed it was some kind of plague-carrying, Texas vermin.” His fake wife shrugged, looking unhappy. “I guess it got in when I was outside with you. I think I convinced her the poor lizard wouldn’t hurt her, and was more frightened than she was.” She made a disgusted face. “Grandmother thinks Texas is a thousand miles away from civilization and expects to see man-eating rodents.”

“I gathered they didn’t come here for the sheer joy of it.”

“Why they came is beyond me,” she said. “The sooner we get them out of here, the better.”

“They can’t leave.”

His statement drew her sharp gaze. “What—what do you mean they can’t leave?”

“Your grandfather’s in pain.”

“What about a hospital? Pain is their thing!”

He watched her solemnly, wondering at her anxious hostility. “Hubert doesn’t need hospitalization. Just bed rest. I don’t think anyone could get him inside a hospital unless he was unconscious.”

She glanced quickly toward the parlor, her expression a mix of belligerence and panic. “Well, he can’t stay here.”

“Why not? He’s your grandfather.”

“Because I don’t want him here!”

Noah shook his head, baffled. “They’re family.”

“So? They never acted like family—not while…” She closed her mouth. “Why I don’t want them here is not your concern.”

She was absolutely right. Noah was vaguely curious about this new wrinkle, since as a boy he’d crossed the Vanderkellens’ path at this-or-that Boston social function. But he didn’t have time to indulge his curiosity. Bowing his head slightly, he ended the argument. “Have it your way. I’ll get Sam’s goggles and go.”

He indicated the direction of the kitchen. “Sam thought they might be on the screened porch. I assume it’s back there?”

The blonde’s furrowed brow didn’t ease. “I haven’t seen them, but yes, the porch is off the kitchen.” She waved him away, making it clear she had more urgent problems to contend with. “Check if you want.”

He took a step, then stopped. “By the way,” he whispered. “What’s your name?”

She blinked as though being dragged back from some dark place. “What?”

“Your name?”

“Oh—Sally—Sally Johnson.”

He was surprised she was single, but he supposed he shouldn’t be. He’d seen a lot of single mothers in his practice. It was only that, knowing Sam and how smart and logical he was, Noah wouldn’t have thought his sister would be quite so uncircumspect. “Well, good luck, Sally.”

She pressed her fingertips to her temples and closed her eyes, exhaling. When Noah faced the fact she either hadn’t heard him or didn’t intend to respond, he went in search of the goggles.

Five minutes of searching around, under and behind a platform glider, stacked scraps of metal, a bike, gardening tools, flower pots and a potting bench, finally brought success. Noah returned to the foyer, the goggles jutting from his hip pocket. Nobody was in the entry, but he heard voices in the parlor. When he looked in to say goodbye he was met by those blasted shimmery eyes, another silent plea hitting him full force.

“Everything okay?” he found himself asking.

She motioned him inside. “Uh—honey—could you take grandfather up to my—er—our room? He and grandmother will be staying.”

Noah felt a hitch in his chest at her use of the endearment. For a moment, he’d forgotten their charade. He gave his watch a quick, worried look. “Well—sure.”

“This is ridiculous,” Mrs. Vanderkellen said. “You never wanted to go on the walking tour of the pyramids! I should have known you’d—”

Hubert’s loud moan cut off his wife’s tirade. He clutched at his lower back. “Oh, the pain!”

“He took a pretty bad fall,” Noah interjected.

Mrs. Vanderkellen slid Noah a dubious look, as though he were part of some demonic conspiracy, but didn’t voice her suspicions. “It will take an outrageous tip to get that cabbie to move the bags in off the drive,” she muttered. “Noah, handle that.”

After taking care of the driver, Noah trudged up the stairs with his spindly burden, depositing Hubert in Sally’s sunny room on a patchwork quilt decorating a pine four-poster. “After he gets some medication, I’ll help you get him into bed.”

Mrs. Vanderkellen rummaged in her purse and didn’t immediately answer. When she turned around she held a canister of some sort. Instead of responding to his offer, she began to fog the air with what smelled like disinfectant.

Ducking under the reeking jet, he left the room and nearly crashed into Sally, lurking in the hall, wringing her hands.

“So, you’re letting them stay after all,” he said. “That’s nice.”

“Nice?” she echoed, clearly miserable. “They told me their house in Boston is being completely redecorated. They think all but a handful of hotels are filthy places teeming with the germs of a thousand strangers. And not surprisingly, not one of those adequate hotels is in this country. Oh, and they wouldn’t consider imposing on friends. Can you believe that? They don’t want to impose on friends! But, me, they can impose on.”

“They’re family—”

“Look, Dr. Garrett,” she cut in. “I’m sure you have a warm and fuzzy relationship with your grandparents, and I’m sure they’re as sweet as teddy bears. But not everybody is that lucky.”

He didn’t have time to get into a discussion about his family dynamics, though he had a feeling she’d be surprised about a few details if he did. So he merely corrected, “It’s Barrett.”

“What?”

He shook his head. “Never mind. It was interesting to meet you, Sally.” He loped down the stairs, racing the clock.

“Oh—wait! Please!”

His plan to make a swift exit was thwarted by his hostess’s entreaty. When he turned, she was lumbering down the stairs, a protective hand on her stomach. Her descent was precariously rapid and he automatically headed in her direction.

“Don’t—you’ll fall.” He jogged up several steps and took her arm. “What’s so important?”

“You—can’t go!” she said, short of breath. Pulling him into the parlor, she added, “What do I tell them?”

Noah was confused. “About what?”

“About us—being deliriously happy!”

He stared at her, not believing this. Their playacting had been amusing for a few minutes, but now it was just strange. “Look—Sally was it?” He separated her desperate, clutching fingers from his shirt front and took off the wedding ring she’d given him. “I don’t care what you tell them.” Plunking it into her hand, he went on. “I’ve been looking forward to a vacation for three years. Three years,” he repeated. “My flight leaves in forty-five minutes. Tell your grandparents whatever you want. Tell them I had to go to a medical convention. Or aliens beamed me up to the mother ship. I don’t care.” He closed her fingers over the wedding band, and squeezed as a parting gesture. “Have a good life.”

She made a pained face. “I’ll pay you!”

“I don’t want your money.”

“What do you want? I’ll do anything!” she cried. “Don’t you see? They think I’m inferior. They think my mother married beneath her, that my dad was some kind of inferior subspecies just because he was a firefighter from Texas and not old money from Boston. If they find out I’m having a baby and I’m not married—well, they’ll be convinced I’m the riffraff they predicted.”

“Riffraff?” Noah was astonished by such a crazy statement. “I doubt that. I’d have to agree raising a child without a stable, two-parent family is hardly ideal, but I’m sure you’re making more out of their reaction than—”

“I’m not! You don’t know me or my grandparents, so you can keep your opinions to yourself! Doctors!” she scoffed. “Insufferable know-it-alls, every last one of you.” She eyed him angrily. “Why I’m having this baby is my business, not my grandparents’ or yours.”

“If you’ll recall, you dragged me into it.”

“That was my mistake,” she said. “But I’m not making a mistake about my grandparents’ attitude. They’re the world’s most self-righteous, narrow-minded, class-conscious, stuffy snobs!” She pressed her fists against her temples. “I won’t let them blame any decisions I’ve made on inferior Johnson genes. I couldn’t stand seeing their revolted expressions if they knew the father of my baby came from a freezer in a sperm bank, and a glorified turkey baster played cupid!”

Noah was startled to hear there was no man in the picture. She was pretty enough to have her pick of daddies for her child. He wondered why she’d opted to get pregnant at all, let alone by artificial insemination. Maybe she didn’t like men. Whatever the reason, it wasn’t his concern. “Look, I can see you’re upset, and I feel for you, but this isn’t a good time.”

She stared at him for a heartbeat, her pinched expression making it clear she didn’t buy his “I feel for you” remark. Maybe she was more correct in her assessment than he cared to admit. Single motherhood was a tough row to hoe. To choose it voluntarily was highly unorthodox and questionable. If Miss Johnson was like too many of his single-parent patients, she hadn’t given adequate thought to what she was getting herself—and an innocent child—into.

“Right.” Heaving an exhale, she threw up her hands in defeat. “It’s not your problem and you’ve got a plane to catch.” She indicated her grandparents’ bags. “But could you—er—take those up, first? There’s no way my grandmother could do it—or even consider it—and I don’t think I could get that trunk upstairs without going into premature labor.”

He shot the pile of luggage an unfriendly glare, but hesitated for only a second. Somehow he knew arguing with this little dynamo would merely waste time. “Okay. All right,” He headed for the suitcases. “Then I’m gone.”

The phone rang, but Noah paid little heed. His focus was on the eight matching leather suitcases and one steamer trunk the size of a compact car. Exactly how long had the Vanderkellens planned to be away on their cruise. Four years?

“It’s for you,” Sally held out the receiver. “Somebody named Jane. Says it’s important.”

He stopped in the middle of hefting the trunk. “Jane?” His girlfriend was at the airport with Sam and his fiancée, Dorothy. Maybe their flight had been delayed. For once that would be good news.