Nightwatch

The moment he’d held that boy in his arms, the facade had shattered. But now that Guy was broken, what was he supposed to do about it? How was he going to pick up the pieces? That baby needed him, and he was useless. Stripped bare and without any of his shiny protective coating.

“Okay, Giroux. Get it together. This is not about you.” He turned off the water, then dried his hands and face, balling the paper tightly before he threw it in the trash. Then he went to look in on his grandson.

As he walked into the unit, his gaze went to the far corner. Heath’s incubator. And Rachel Browne.

Instantly, as if a switch had been flipped, his anger disappeared. Gone, just like that. He studied her. Her long, dark hair was pulled back into a neat ponytail that fell to the middle of her back. The white coat, prim, professional, hid the curves that had burned themselves into his brain. Her navy skirt came down to just above her knees, and below that were remarkable legs, the kind of legs that launched ships, that wars were fought over. Her shoes—black, with one-inch heels—were as perfectly groomed as the rest of her. That was Rachel. Always put together, always fresh and beautiful, even if she’d been working twenty-four hours straight.

She instilled confidence in her patients, had complete control of even the most complicated cases. And she never lost her cool. Altogether, she was an extraordinary doctor.

Right this second, he needed her, more desperately than he could ever remember needing a woman. But not for sex or even a kiss. He needed her to calm him. When Rachel was near, the world stopped caving in on him.

He went to the sink first and prepared himself to hold the baby. It was second nature, this washing routine. He’d done it so many times, hundreds, thousands, that it had become a ritual.

Rachel was looking at him when he turned toward Heath. God, her face. It was the best part of her, really. Incredibly large dark eyes, dark eyebrows, and lips painted a perfect red. She had a fascinating beauty, but more important, she was a born healer, in the best sense of the word. And in his eyes, that made her looks a detail. An afterthought.

That didn’t mean he couldn’t appreciate how attractive she was. He simply put her beauty in proper perspective.

“Guy,” she said, her soft voice carrying clearly across the room.

He walked toward her, the stirrings of hope quickening his step.

“He’s doing a little better,” Rachel said. “He’s been sleeping peacefully. No arrhythmia, and look—” she handed him the chart “—his kidney function is up.”

Guy read everything, then reread it before he spoke. “He’s still not out of the woods.”

“No,” Rachel said. “But what this tells me is that even if we don’t find his father, we can get to the bottom of his condition. We’ll find out everything. His blood work has gone to the lab in San Francisco.”

He knew what that meant. DNA sequencing, as fast and as accurately as it could be done. It cost him a fortune and was worth every penny. But it still wasn’t magic. Getting the results would take time. Time he could use finding the bastard that had impregnated his stepdaughter. “His name is Stan,” he said. “I think he might still be in Los Angeles.”

Rachel stepped closer and put her hand on his sleeve. “When’s the last time you ate?”

“I don’t know.”

“Well then, here’s what we’re going to do. You’re going to spend a few minutes looking at that beautiful boy. Then I’m going to take you down the street and force-feed you, if necessary.” She caught his gaze. “We’ll talk.”

CHAPTER FIVE

RACHEL WALKED next to Guy, her hands in her coat pockets. As they approached the Courage Bay Bar and Grill, she slipped a glance his way, the light from a street lamp putting his features in sharp relief.

He didn’t look like the Guy Giroux she was used to. His dark hair, thick and long enough to brush his collar, was mussed, and his strong jaw was darkened with a five o’clock shadow. His eyebrows, which would have been too bushy on a weaker face, made everything about his looks more interesting.

There was no disputing he was handsome. And tall. She guessed he was about six-three. At five-eight, she only reached his shoulders. And then there was his body. The man took care of himself, and didn’t all the nurses and female doctors notice. Guy was often the subject of break-room gossip and wishful thinking.

In all the time she’d worked at the hospital, she’d never heard of him dating anyone on staff. Considering how small-town the E.R. was, that was a good thing. Nothing escaped their co-workers, and this innocent dinner would be no exception. Rachel didn’t give a damn.

It was startling how affected Guy was by the loss of his stepdaughter. He had clearly loved Heather, and his concern for the baby was as deep as a parent’s.

It occurred to Rachel that she barely knew the man. She only knew the doctor. Which was exactly how it was supposed to be. Only, things had changed, and the man inside the black leather coat needed her. She couldn’t bring Heather back, and she wasn’t the best doctor for Heath. But she could be a friend.

They reached the door of the restaurant and Guy held it open for her. Inside, the cold of the January night disappeared. The familiar surroundings helped take the chill out of Rachel. Larry Goodman, the owner, was hosting this evening, and he greeted them both warmly, took their coats and led them to the dining room, to a back booth.

Like all the emergency personnel in town, Rachel came to the Bar and Grill more often than any other place. Aside from the convenient location, the restaurant had great food, the ambience was calming, and Larry and his wife, Louise, went to great lengths to take care of all the teams in the emergency-services district.

She scooted into the far seat of the booth, while Guy sat across from her. “Tea, please, Larry. Earl Grey.”

Larry, who looked younger than his sixty-plus years, nodded and turned to Guy.

“Coffee.”

“Be right back, folks. Tonight we have some great mesquite-smoked salmon, and the prime rib has been getting raves.”

The minute they were alone, Guy pulled the little notebook out of his pocket and put it on the table.

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