The Baby Doctor's Bride

He’d taken to his new surroundings without any problem, and knew he’d made the right choice to leave his old life. After nearly six months of drifting, he didn’t miss the phones ringing, his pager buzzing, the monitors beeping, the gentle whoosh of respirators, or babies that fit in the palm of his hand. More importantly, he didn’t miss the worry, the tears, or the sense of failure.

Allowing each minute, each hour, to pass by quietly and without plan or purpose seemed therapeutic, although he didn’t expect to be healed of what ailed him.

How did one recover from disillusionment, especially when you were disillusioned with yourself?

I need your help.

She might need help, but she didn’t need his, he thought sourly. He was the last doctor she’d want treating her precious patients, although she didn’t know that. Better for her to think he was a selfish bastard, that he had no heart, than for her to know the truth.

Actually, knowing she hung at the end of her emotional rope bothered him more than he cared to admit—mainly because he’d been there, done that. If only she’d stayed away; if only Lew hadn’t discovered Ethan was a doctor; if only he had chosen today to pack a lunch and explore the acres and acres surrounding the cabin. Then he could have remained in ignorant isolation.

But she hadn’t left him in peace. In a few short minutes she’d done what his colleagues in St. Louis hadn’t been able to accomplish in months.

She’d made him feel guilty.

Feeling guilty was a step up from feeling like a failure, which was how he’d felt in the weeks before he left St. Louis. Like Dr. Harris, his colleagues had tried to convince him to reconsider, but he’d been adamant about pulling up stakes and they’d finally accepted his decision. A week later they’d found a replacement, who’d stepped into his shoes without the smallest hiccup, and life went on.

It would for Ivy Harris, too. Besides, she’d seemed resourceful enough to locate someone to do what he could not.

But what if she didn’t?

She’d manage. Managing was what doctors did best, especially under the most difficult of circumstances.

You don’t have any children, do you, Dr. Locke?

Ivy’s voice echoed in his head and he steeled himself against the pain. She’d definitely played hardball with her remark, but he hadn’t been inclined to explain how every one of his tiny, tiny patients had been “his” kid. And he certainly hadn’t been about to admit that he’d fathered one of his own, because it would have prompted an entirely new set of questions; questions that would only lead to him reliving what still lay so heavily on his heart.

In spite of his expertise, in spite of the advances in modern medicine, he hadn’t been able to save his own son.

“How long has Robbie had this patch on his arm?” she asked Molly Owens.

Molly shrugged. “Several weeks. At first I thought it was just part of his allergies, so I used an over-the-counter cortisone cream. But the area is getting larger, so I thought it was time to try something else.” The thirty-year-old grinned. “Unless you’re going to tell me I haven’t given the cream enough time to work?”

The lesion was about the size of a silver dollar, red and flat, and the center was scaly looking. A textbook picture if she ever saw one.

“Not a chance,” Ivy said with a smile. “Your cream won’t help. Robbie has ringworm. It’s a fungus infection and requires special medication.”

“Ringworm?” Molly was aghast. “Are you sure?”

“I could do a skin scraping for fungus and send it to the lab, if you’d like, but I’m certain about my diagnosis.”

“Oh, I’m not questioning you,” Molly was quick to reply. “It’s just that I thought it was transmitted from animals, and we don’t have a dog or a cat.”

“That’s often the case,” Ivy agreed, “but sometimes a child will pick up the fungus from the soil.”

Molly exhaled a long-suffering sigh. “He does love to play in the dirt with his trucks,” she said as she fingercombed the little boy’s sandy-colored hair.

“See my truck?” Robbie held the metal vehicle under Ivy’s nose. “It goes fast. Vroooom, vroooom.”

“I see,” Ivy told him. “I’ll bet you’re an excellent driver.”

Focused on his toy, and making the appropriate engine noises, Robbie jumped off his mom’s lap and began pushing it along the linoleum.

“So what do I do?” Molly asked. “Keep him out of the dirt?”

“You can try, but I suspect you’ll fight a losing battle.”

“To put it mildly.”

Ivy wrote on her prescription pad. “Here’s a script for an anti-fungal cream. Apply it to his arm twice daily.”

“For how long?”

“Until the patch disappears, which will take a few weeks.”

“That’s it?”

“You should also sterilize his towels, his bedding, and any clothes that come in contact with the area. You don’t want this to spread to anyone else in your family.”

“OK. Not a problem.”

“If you notice the lesion becomes redder, or oozes pus, come back. Same for if it hasn’t disappeared in three or four weeks. And if by some chance you notice another area developing, start treating it immediately with the cream.”

“Will do. Thanks so much, Doctor.”

Ivy smiled as she escorted Molly to the door of the exam room. “You’re welcome.”

Heather waited outside the cubicle. “You aren’t going to believe this—”

“After today, I can believe anything,” Ivy said dryly. “How many more patients are waiting?”

“None.” The woman grinned. “Robbie was the last one.”

Ivy glanced at the clock. 6:15 p.m. “You’re right. I don’t believe it. I thought we’d be here until seven at least.”

“Same here. I guess we were lucky. And, speaking of lucky, you have a visitor.”

It was too late in the evening for a drug rep to drop in and peddle his wares. “Who is it?”

“I have no idea. He wouldn’t leave his name, but he’s quite a hunk if you ask me.”

“Then it’s no one you know?”

“Nope, which is a shame. He’s the sort who would have women flocking around him if he’d bother to smile. He’s the dark, brooding Heathcliffe type.”

Instantly a picture of Ethan Locke flashed into Ivy’s head, but she dismissed the idea. He wouldn’t have any reason to stop by her office. No doubt he’d rather walk barefoot through a Texas sandburr patch than run into her again.

“OK, I’ll find out who he is and what he wants. Meanwhile, enjoy your evening at home.”

“I will.”

Ivy told her receptionist goodnight, then beelined to the waiting room. “Sorry to keep you waiting,” she told the tall fellow who was studying one of her favorite Anne Geddes prints, depicting three babies decked out in yellow bunny costumes, spooning each other as they lay fast asleep.

He turned to face her and she caught her breath.

Ethan Locke.

He didn’t look much different than he had earlier, although he’d shaved, revealing an endearing dimple in his chin.

“Well, well, this is a surprise,” she said evenly, both suspicious and curious as to why he’d tracked her down. But she didn’t intend to make it easy for him. “If you want a refill on your antisocial pills you’ll have to see Jed, because I don’t treat adults. His office is next door.”

His face turned ruddy. “I deserve that, I suppose, but I came to apologize.”

He’d surprised her, because on the basis of their first meeting she hadn’t thought he was the sort to worry over what she or anyone else might think of him, much less apologize for his actions. If she weren’t so tired, and if she didn’t have hospital rounds to make yet, she might have been willing to spar with him for a while longer. But she was, and she did, and she wanted to fall into bed as soon as possible.

“Accepted. Now, if you’ll excuse me—”

“Wait.”

The one word stopped her in her tracks. She studied him carefully, noticing how he seemed to hesitate, as if he needed to bolster his courage. Instinctively, she knew his apology was only an excuse. Perhaps even a test of some sort….

“Look,” she said slowly, “I’d love to stay and chat, but I have a hundred and one things to do before this day officially ends. If you’re here for a reason, just spit it out and save me the suspense. I don’t have the energy to play twenty questions.”

“Have you found someone to help you?”

“I haven’t had time,” she admitted. “But, as you said, I’m sure I’ll find someone. Eventually. Why do you ask?”

She’d wanted to say Why do you care?, but she’d eaten lunch, and they’d finished earlier than she’d expected, so she could afford to be nice. For the moment.

He paused, his gaze steady. “Because I’m offering my services.”

CHAPTER TWO

FROM the expression on Ivy’s face, Ethan had obviously startled her speechless. He wouldn’t blame her if she told him to buzz off, after they’d parted on less than friendly terms. Part of him hoped she wouldn’t, but if she did he would go back to his rented cabin with his conscience appeased.

Her surprise disappeared and her face settled into more impassive lines, as if she wanted to believe but wouldn’t allow herself to do so. “You’re offering to help?”

“Yes.”

“If this is some twisted idea of a joke…”

“It isn’t. It’s a sincere offer.”

“Forgive me, but I’d never dreamed… You’re actually willing to help me.” She narrowed her coffee-colored eyes in obvious suspicion as she dug her hands into her white lab coat.

“For a few weeks.” He’d thought about extending on open-ended offer without a set final date as he planned to live in the area until the end of the summer, but he wanted—no, needed an escape clause. Helping a colleague in dire straits for a few weeks should be enough to appease his conscience.

“Several hours ago you said you weren’t interested. What prompted you to change your mind?”

“Does it matter?” he countered, unwilling to explain how, after her you-don’t-have-children comment, his former colleague and old friend’s phone call had tipped the scales in her favor.

“Try something different,” Stewart Trimble had urged. “I understand your reasons for steering clear of medicine, but you still have a lot to give.”

“I don’t,” Ethan had replied flatly. “The proverbial well is dry.”

“Temporarily, perhaps, but you aren’t a quitter, Ethan,” Stewart had said. “Pediatricians aren’t limited to treating infants, you know. After bumming around the country for the last six months, don’t you owe yourself the old college try? What would it hurt to agree to a locum job in a practice where the worst thing you’ll treat is a sore throat and an occasional cough? Maybe your well isn’t as dry as you think.”

Plenty, he’d wanted to say, but in the end the combination of seeing Ivy’s exhaustion, the new load of guilt she’d leveled on him, and Stewart’s thought-provoking encouragement had prompted him to drive into town and offer his services on a limited scale for an equally limited amount of time. It would be a trial period, he’d consoled himself as the distance to Ivy’s clinic had shortened. That was all. At the end of the three weeks she’d asked for he’d have a better idea of what he’d do with the rest of his life.

As an added bonus, perhaps he could get the attractive Ivy Harris out of his head. His fiancée had been every bit as beautiful, but he’d soon learned that beauty usually only went skin deep.

She cleared her throat, bringing him back to the present. “No,” she admitted. “Although I want to be sure you won’t fill in for a day and quit the next because you changed your mind.”

“I finish what I start. If I agree to help you for three weeks, then I won’t leave you high and dry.” His former colleagues at the children’s hospital could attest to that. Once he’d tendered his resignation in St. Louis, he could have walked away, but through sheer force of will he’d struggled through another month until a replacement could be found.

She fell silent, apparently digesting his information. “OK. When can you start?”

“Whenever you like.”

She laughed, the lighthearted sound easing the residual tightness in his chest that hadn’t left him since the day his son had died. “I’d say immediately, but tomorrow is soon enough.”

“Tomorrow it is,” he said. “But I have a few conditions.”

A long-suffering expression flitted across her face, as if she half expected him to list requirements she couldn’t possibly meet. “Something tells me I need to sit down to hear this,” she said wryly as she did exactly that. “OK. Give me your terms.”

“First of all, I’ll earn the same salary you do and pay the same expenses.”

She blinked twice owlishly, as if he’d surprised her—which he probably had. “That isn’t what I initially offered you.”

“As I said earlier, I don’t take advantage of a colleague. Especially one who’s starting out.”

“Thanks.” She sounded dubious, as if she were afraid he’d spring something worse on her.

He did. “Second, I won’t treat babies.”

“None at all?”

“Infants aren’t my forte,” he said flatly. “I’ll take on all the school-age kids and adolescents who walk through the door, but anyone under the age of three is yours to deal with.”

She opened her mouth as if to argue, then simply nodded, as if she’d decided she could live with that particular stipulation. In a town without obstetrical services there couldn’t be more babies, especially newborns, than she could handle on her own.

“OK,” she said calmly. “Anything else?”

“Isn’t that enough?”

Her face warmed. “I’d say so. But at this point I can’t afford to be choosy. I appreciate anything and everything you’re willing to do.” She rose. “I’m usually here by seven-thirty most mornings, and our first patients are scheduled for nine.”

“What about referrals?”

“I send any child who needs a specialist north to Wichita or south to Oklahoma City,” she continued, “depending on the parents’ preference and insurance requirements. My goal is to bring in a pediatric endocrinologist and allergist once a month for scheduled appointments, but with everything that’s happened I haven’t had a chance to organize the clinics. Walt and I have other plans we hope to implement, but, as they say, Rome wasn’t built in a day.” Her smile was rueful.

Ethan saw the enthusiasm, the confidence, the full-steam-ahead attitude he’d seen in every new board-certified physician. Faith in one’s skills and the miracles of modern medicine made a man, or a woman, feel invincible and ready to conquer the world. For an instant he wanted to advise her to enjoy that feeling, because she’d lose it soon enough.

Idly, he wondered if he’d made a huge mistake by coming here. Seeing Ivy Harris every day would be like looking in a mirror, reminding him of what he’d once been like and showing him what he was now. A jaded physician didn’t pair well with an eager, idealistic one, but he’d already committed himself and he couldn’t back out now. Not because he cared about Ivy’s opinion, but because keeping his word was a matter of family honor. He might be the only Locke left, but his personal integrity was something he intended to hold on to with both hands.

“In the meantime,” Ivy continued, “if you have a patient who needs a referral, check with Heather, my nurse, or Billie, our receptionist.”

“You only have one nurse?”

“At the moment. But don’t worry. I’ll find another RN. They aren’t as difficult to come by as doctors,” she tacked on wryly. “If you’d like, I can show you around now, or we can wait until morning.”

“Don’t you have a hundred and one things to do before you can call it a day?” He turned her own words against her, although he found himself unwilling to leave for reasons he didn’t quite understand.

She smiled tiredly. “Yeah, but it won’t take long to give the nickel tour. We can start—” Her cellphone rang and she glanced at the caller ID display. “This might take a few minutes. Feel free to wander around on your own.”

Ethan sauntered past the receptionist’s desk as he ignored Ivy’s one-sided conversation. He stepped into the first patient room and saw the required glass canisters of cotton balls, cotton-tipped applicator sticks and tongue depressors standing on the counter, next to an otoscope to look into the ear canal. A biohazard container for needles and syringes hung on the wall.

Inside the cabinets and drawers he found the odd assortment of other necessities, including facial tissues, blood pressure cuffs in different sizes for little arms, as well as various kits and irrigation solutions. As far as he could tell Ivy had stocked her office with everything a general pediatrician might need, probably to avoid sending her patients on a lengthy drive elsewhere.

He sensed Ivy’s presence at the door before she uttered a word. Turning, he saw the slight frown on her face.

“Problems?” he asked.

She nodded. “I have to go. There’s been an accident. A truck collided with a van carrying six children, ages nine months to eight years old.”

It would be daunting to treat that many cases at once, especially if those six were critical. Clearly Jed wouldn’t be much help, because he’d have his hands full with the adults involved.

All afternoon he’d convinced himself he’d do nothing more than swab sore throats, peer into achy ears and listen to a few asthmatic lungs. Unfortunately fate had thrown another curve ball at him. No doubt Stewart would laugh his fool head off if he knew the situation Ethan had landed in without warning.

She waited silently, but he saw the unspoken plea in her eyes. The way he saw it, he had three options. He could ignore her silent request and simply say goodbye—an option which appealed mightily because he technically wasn’t on duty until tomorrow; he could do nothing—in which case she’d probably beg; or he could put his plans for dinner and a quiet evening at home aside and volunteer.

Some choices. Two would make him a heartless jerk and one would ruin the rest of his already ruined day. Having decided to fill in out of guilt, he might as well get started, he decided reluctantly, although it had been a while since he’d used his general pediatric skills. Still, he had an advantage: unlike the pre-term neonates he’d treated, the children he’d work with now could point him in the right direction.

“Would you like me to assist?” he asked, hoping she’d refuse.

She positively beamed, and took a step forward. For a moment she wore such a supreme look of relief that he thought she might kiss him.

He wouldn’t have minded. In fact, just the possibility of feeling her lips against his sent blood rushing through his body. Geesh, having such a strong physical reaction on the basis of merely thinking about a kiss plainly indicated he’d been alone for too long.

Yet, physical attraction or not, he didn’t have any business letting his imagination run away from him. He carried too much emotional baggage right now to consider any sort of relationship, even a platonic one.

Instead of kissing him, as he’d both feared and anticipated, she grabbed his hand and squeezed gently. “Oh, thank you. I’d love it if you would. Mind you, if it’s all minor stuff you can leave, but it would be great to have you nearby. Just in case things get complicated.”

It already was, he thought wryly, deciding her touch could easily become addictive. She was warm and vibrant, in a world which had been cold and colorless, but rather than allow himself the luxury of enjoying it to the fullest he mentally distanced himself at the same time as he abruptly extricated his hand from hers. Emotionally entangling himself with a pretty woman who’d want more from him than he could possibly give was a prescription for more heartache. He’d seen the light in one woman’s eyes fade into accusation and disgust. He wasn’t about to experience that again.

“Then shall we go?” he asked, his voice impersonal.

Her face turned a rosy hue, as if she recognized his brushoff. “Yes,” she said, her tone several degrees chillier than it had been before. “We should.”

As he followed her down the hallway that connected their clinic to the hospital, he noticed her demeanor toward him had turned from warm-hearted to strictly professional. Yet when she called a fellow named Ted she went back to being congenial and bubbly again. Clearly she’d chosen to save her friendly overtures for someone who wanted them, which was perfectly fine with him.

Yes, it was best for everyone concerned if they kept their relationship on a businesslike footing during the few weeks they were together. But, while it was the logical thing to do, he couldn’t deny the sense of loss that swept through him.

With one phone call to Ted Burns, the hospital’s CEO, Ivy had gotten Ethan consultant status so he could begin treating patients.

“It’s all set,” she said, as soon as she’d slipped her cellphone into her pocket. “You have temporary privileges with final approval contingent on you coming in tomorrow to show your credentials and sign the necessary paperwork.”

“So soon? I’m impressed.”

His surprise grated on her nerves. It was as if he hadn’t expected anyone in town to be efficient. “We don’t all work at Lew’s speeds of slow and slower yet,” she said smartly.

He raised an eyebrow. “I’m glad to hear it.”

No, she decided with some disappointment, Ethan Locke wouldn’t win the Friendliest Doctor of the Year award. Wariest, perhaps, or Gruffest, or Most Reluctant, or even Most Mysterious—but Friendliest? Not a chance.

But what did it matter if he frowned all day long, never spoke more than a few words and kept to himself? As long as he was kind to the patients and proved himself competent she would be one happy doctor.

Yet, regardless of how she’d characterized him, she also knew that people were a product of their experiences. What had made Ethan Locke so determined to isolate himself?

Whatever his reasons, she could either respond in kind or treat him as she did everyone else. The choice was easy to the point that it wasn’t a choice at all.

She bestowed one of her usual smiles on him as she led the way toward a cart near the ambulance bay that held protective gear. “We’re not as hung up on bureaucracy as other places, and we’re more flexible, but don’t forget to see Ted first thing in the morning. He’ll bend what can be bent, but only so far.”

“See Ted first. Got it.”

As Ivy shrugged on the familiar yellow gown, vinyl gloves and face shield, she noticed Ethan doing the same. “We’ll wait out—”

Nancy Martinez, the middle-aged nurse who was in charge of the department, approached at a near-run. “I just heard. ETA of the ambulance is three minutes. We’re getting the Ellerbe twins.”

Ivy’s heart sank. The twins were nine months old and their parents’ pride and joy. “Marybeth?”

“She was driving,” Nancy said, her forehead furrowed with concern. “Apparently she’d taken the kids in her daycare to Wichita Zoo today, and was coming home when a truck ran a stop sign and plowed into her. Luckily she’d already delivered several of the kids at their homes before it happened, otherwise we’d have three more patients.”

“I assume you know the family?” Ethan asked.

“I grew up with Marybeth’s husband and I know his mother quite well. By the way, Ethan, this is Nancy, our E.R. charge nurse. She’s worked here for years, and knows everything there is to know about the hospital. So if there’s anything you need, she’s your go-to person.” She turned to Nancy. “This is Dr. Ethan Locke. He’s helping us out temporarily.”

An ambulance siren wailed in the distance. “Come on,” she said. “We’re being paged.”

The heat, coupled with her protective gear, blasted her after being in the air-conditioned facility. Almost immediately a host of other staff members materialized to surround them.