The Baby Who Stole the Doctor's Heart

It wasn’t a good situation, and she was worried because, so far, she hadn’t gotten through. Not to Scotty, not to his mother. She was working on it, though, hoping the camp she was creating—a camp for kids like Scotty—would help. It was coming together, and she was excited by the prospect. One more hurdle, taking the finalized plans to the hospital board, and she’d be set.

Right now, though, she had to concentrate on Scotty’s meal plan. “First things first,” she said to Sarah’s photo, forcing her attention to the computer screen and the list of low glycemic index foods popping up there.

A knock on the door startled her.

“Can I come in?” Mark asked, as he pushed the door open a crack.

Suddenly, she was on tenterhooks. She’d applied to his program. Wanted desperately to be part of the White Elk Mountain Rescue Team, like her sister was. Like all her friends were. She wanted to prove… well, her worth, for one thing. “Sure,” she said, saving Scotty’s file.

Mark Anderson. Larger than life, filling every inch of her door frame and handsome in a way that defied description. Definitely a man who could make her heart go pitter-patter, if she had a mind to let it. Which she didn’t, even though her divorce wasn’t stinging so much these days. Truthfully, she didn’t have men on her mind, didn’t date, didn’t want to. Not now. This part of her life was about improvement, about doing the things she’d been deprived of all those years with Brad. About making sure she was in a place where she controlled her destiny. It was also about Sarah… Sarah, who always brought a smile to her face. Her life was a good place now, and although she wasn’t very far into it yet, she surely did like her direction.

So, no rocking it with someone like Dr. Mark Anderson, even though another time, another place… Fantasies like that allowed, realties forbidden. Besides, in her limited contact with him since he’d helped her and Sarah from the train that had been trapped in an avalanche he’d seemed so standoffish, maybe even grumpy. She wasn’t sure why, wasn’t inclined to find out. But he held her future in his hand, so to speak, and she did want this opportunity. It was one of so many things she wanted to do and as he strode toward her desk she couldn’t wait for him to start. “What did you decide?” she blurted out, too anxious to wait.

“No,” he said, quite bluntly.

“No?” Blinking, it took a moment to digest his words. “Did you say no?”

“That’s correct. No.”

“Meaning you didn’t accept me into your program?”

“Meaning I’m looking for people who have more medical training than you do. I’m sorry, but you don’t fit my criteria.”

He didn’t look sorry. In fact, he looked rather bland on the whole subject. “My being a clinical dietician doesn’t count for anything? Or the fact that I’m heading up the juvenile diabetes project at the hospital? Or that I’m probably better on skis than most of the instructors at the lodges here?”

“Those are important, even impressive in their own way, Mrs. Blanchard. I’m not diminishing what you’re doing here, not trying to belittle your abilities either, but your qualifications are lacking, and I’m not accepting anyone into my program who doesn’t meet a certain basic level of medical training. Which you don’t. For what it’s worth, I knew how much you wanted this, so I went over your application a couple of times, trying to figure out if there was a way I could deviate from the standards I’ve set for the other students I’ll take on. But I couldn’t, because if I made an exception for you, I might have to make it for someone else, and pretty soon the whole program would be… diluted.”

“Diluted?” She rose from her desk, leaned over it, palms flat on the surface. “You think I’d dilute your program?”

“OK, so maybe that’s not the best choice of words. But I think it conveys my intent. I know the kind of background I want in my students, and you don’t have it. I’m sorry, but that’s my decision. And, to be honest, with all the new programs you’re involved with already, I’m not even sure why you’d want to take on something else. Wouldn’t that be spreading yourself too thin?”

She steadied her nerves with a deep breath. That was none of his business. He hadn’t known Brad, hadn’t seen the way Brad had put her down every time she’d tried stepping outside herself and doing something worthwhile. Hadn’t been there the day they’d come across a skiing accident, found a man who’d crashed into a tree, who had literally been dying before their eyes. She’d tried to help, but Brad had rubbished her attempts and told her the only thing she was good for was calling the ski patrol. Young and frightened, she’d believed him, but still she’d stayed with the man and tried to keep him conscious and talking while Brad had called for help. Unfortunately the man had died on his way to hospital, and she’d always wondered if she could have done something more.

No, none of that was Mark Anderson’s business. Neither was the fact that Sarah changed everything. For Sarah, she had to be better, had to know more. For Sarah, she couldn’t have doubts.

So, fighting with this man wasn’t the answer. She wanted to be in his class, and cool, calm reasoning was the only way she was going to get there. Gathering her wits, Angela decided to resist the battle. “And you don’t think hard work and study will overcome what you say are my deficiencies? Because I’ll work harder and study more than anybody else you’ll have in your class.”

“I’m sure you will. But you’d be the only one who wouldn’t know the basics on the first day. Basics like how to take a patient’s vital signs. Or how to assess pupillary reaction or start an IV. I’d have to waste precious time teaching you how to take a blood-pressure reading when everybody else is way past that.” He exhaled a sharp breath. “What I want, Mrs. Blanchard, is to teach advanced field work, and you’re not ready for it. I’m sorry.”

OK, so he had her there. He was right. She didn’t know the basics. Not yet. But not knowing didn’t mean she couldn’t learn. And learn quickly. “Everybody has to start somewhere, Dr. Anderson. Even you attended classes in medical school where you knew nothing.”

“Classes designed to teach beginners. Which is not what my class is designed to teach. And like I said, I’m sorry. I know you’re going to do some amazing things with your diabetes program, and I wish you well in that. And who knows? I’ll be gone in eighteen months. Maybe the person hired to take over for me will have a different set of criteria for his or her classes.” To his credit, Mark actually struggled with a sympathetic smile as he turned and walked toward the door.

But Angela wasn’t ready to let him leave. In fact, she beat him to the door. Flew out from behind her desk and practically threw herself in front of Mark. She wanted this! She wasn’t about to take another rejection quite as easily as she had her ex-husband’s. “So, tell me what I can do to make you change your mind.”

Mark’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “What didn’t you understand about me saying no?”

“Trust me, I understand rejection. But I want this and there has to be something I can do to get myself into your class. Take some outside courses somewhere, read some books, take a test. I’m sure my sister will help me…”

Before he answered, he paused, and actually chuckled. Then looked her square in the eyes. “I admire your determination, and I only hope the students I do choose will have that same determination in them. But classes start in just over a month, Mrs. Blanchard. What you need to know can’t be learned in that time. I’m sorry, but my decision is final. Now, if you’ll excuse me…”

He laid his hand on the doorknob, tried turning it. Then stopped, like he was waiting for her next round of arguments. Which came immediately. “Is there anything to stop me from auditing your classes?” she asked.

“Auditing?”

“Sitting in, taking notes, learning what the other students are learning?” It wouldn’t get her the certificate she needed, but if the instructor who took over the school eighteen months from now was as difficult as Dr. Anderson, at least she’d be prepared. And if waiting for a year and a half was what it took, that’s what she’d do. After all, she had time. Plenty of it. “Would you stop me from doing that?”

“I won’t certify you at the end.”

“I’m aware of that.”

“And I won’t allow you to participate, as in raising your hand and asking questions or taking part in discussions. You’ll sit in the back of the room and take notes, nothing else.”

“I’m aware of that, too.”

“You won’t be allowed to come along on field exercises. Or train on any of the equipment we use.”

“That’s fine.”

“And you won’t get progress reports telling you how well, or badly, you’re doing.”

“Fine, too.” It wasn’t the way she wanted it, but if this was the only way in for her, she’d take it.

“Well, then, if you want to waste all that time for what’s going to amount to nothing, I won’t stop you from auditing the classes.”

It wasn’t an amazing victory, but it was a victory nonetheless. Or at least a tiny step on the road to her goal. “Thank you,” she said, stepping away from the door. “I appreciate you letting me do this.”

“I’m not doing anything, Mrs. Blanchard. Not a thing.”

Maybe not. But at least he wasn’t stopping her. That was better than nothing.

“She’s so beautiful,” Angela said, dropping down into the recliner chair next to the bed. “Almost makes me want to have another baby.”

“Anything I should know?” Gabby Ranard asked. She was cradling her newborn, Mary, in her arms, looking as happy as any new mother could look.

“I’m not dating, not going to date. Not even liking men too much right now.” She reached over and took the baby from Gabby’s arms. “Some men, anyway.”

“Sounds harsh.”

“Not harsh, practical.”

“Any particular man?”

“His name is Mark Anderson, and before you defend him because he’s your husband’s best friend, next to Eric, let me just say that whatever you’re going to say will be falling on deaf ears. He turned me down for his training program this morning, and I don’t like him, don’t want to like him, don’t intend to like him.” She said the words with a soft edge so not to disturb Mary, who’d already drifted off to sleep. “Should I go put her in the crib for you?” she asked, standing up before Gabby could even answer.

“If you’re going to tell me everything then yes. Let her sleep, because I want to hear what happened.”

Angela put her goddaughter down, tucked her in and kissed her on the forehead. Even though Sarah was only a year older than Mary, she already missed the baby experience. Loved every minute of it, didn’t want it to ever end. But too soon Sarah would outgrow her baby years, then Angela would be having her baby fixes vicariously… through her sister Dinah when she decided to have a baby, maybe even Gabby again. That’s just the way it had to be. She wasn’t getting any younger, and by the time she’d gotten herself to a place in life where she wanted her and Sarah to be, she just might be too old to have another baby. It wasn’t like thirty-three was too old, but if it took her as long to get to the next point in her life as it had to this one, Sarah would be a teenager. Or married and having babies of her own.