The Doctor's Accidental Family

Chapter Sixteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Seventeen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Eighteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Nineteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Extract (#litres_trial_promo)

Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter One (#ulink_aca540c3-de1d-571c-a75b-d5b564b1f90a)

Any minute now, she’d saunter into sight along the walkway, her reddish-brown hair brightening the gloomy January evening and her smile outshining the leftover holiday lights still draping the roof of the extended-stay motel. Shrugging into his sports coat, Dr. Nick Davis peered out his window at the opposite row of units.

No sign of her yet. It was 5:20 p.m., almost time for him to leave.

He’d moved into the Harbor Suites a few days ago, just before starting his position as an obstetrician at Safe Harbor Medical Center, and he’d noticed the woman right away. Identifiable by her blue-flowered nurse’s uniform, she arrived home just as Nick was departing for his evening office hours, which were followed by overnight duties in Labor and Delivery.

Tonight, he planned to catch her eye and give her a friendly nod. Nothing too personal; just enough of an acknowledgment to pave the way for later conversation. Laying the groundwork, so to speak.

His cell rang. An emergency? A glance at the readout produced an irritated groan: Grandma Elaine. Elaine Carrigan wasn’t his grandmother, but the title fit her.

“Hello, Elaine,” he answered.

“Nick! You aren’t with a patient, are you?” Her voice had a thin, wavering quality. Maybe it was his imagination, but she sounded especially edgy.

“About to head to the office. Is Caleb okay?” Nick glanced at the large, framed photo of his three-year-old son on his coffee table. One of the few personal notes in the bare-bones apartment lined with his unopened boxes, it touched his heart afresh. Those innocent, eager brown eyes were much like Nick’s, and the nearly black tumble of hair was like Bethany’s.

Caleb had been an accidental blessing who’d transformed his father’s life. If Nick had had his choice, the boy would have moved in with him after Bethany had passed away six months ago. However, in view of Nick’s bachelor habits and the boy’s painful loss of his mother, Nick had agreed that he should stay, for now, in his familiar home with his grandparents an hour’s drive away.

Until this week, Nick had worked at a clinic half an hour from the Carrigans. Although he’d hated to move farther from his son and accept longer hours, the pay in his new job should enable him to achieve important goals: putting a big dent in his medical school loans and saving to provide a home for Caleb before the boy reached kindergarten age.

His arrangement with the elder Carrigans had gone smoothly until early last month, when they began occasionally postponing his weekly visits with vague excuses. Nick had always considered them reliable, unlike their daughter, but he was beginning to revise that opinion. Still, they’d celebrated Christmas together, a happy holiday for the child they all loved.

“He’s fine,” Elaine said. “I’m calling about Sunday.”

Nick’s jaw tightened. “There’s no problem, is there?” He had arranged an afternoon get-together with his son.

She gave a low cough. “His best friend from preschool is having a birthday party on Sunday. Caleb brought home an invitation yesterday and that’s all he talks about. We could insist he skip it, of course.”

Nick knew his son loved birthday parties, and he didn’t wish his visits to have unpleasant associations. Also, he’d witnessed a few meltdowns lately that in somebody else’s child might be described as temper tantrums. With the boy still in a fragile emotional state, it would be unwise to push too hard.

“When does it start?” He might be able to squeeze in a pancake brunch.

“Ten o’clock,” Elaine said.

“On a Sunday?”

“They attend church early, and that’s when they’re free. Why don’t you come Saturday morning instead?”

“As I explained, I don’t finish my shift until 8:00 a.m. on Saturdays and I’ll be exhausted.” Especially since this was his first week on the new job, and he hadn’t yet acclimated to his schedule. “How about Saturday afternoon?”

“My nephew and his wife from San Francisco will be here, and Caleb adores playing with their little girl. You could join us, I suppose, but mostly he’ll be busy with his little friend.”

Nick tried to contain his exasperation. Lately, negotiating arrangements for his weekend visits seemed almost as tricky as trying to establish peace in the Middle East. He didn’t recall Elaine acting this difficult in the past, but after the holidays she might be clinging extra hard to her grandson.

Through the window, he spotted the pretty red-haired nurse approaching on the walkway. Their encounter, which he’d been looking forward to, would have to be postponed or he’d be late. His evening patients, most of whom were referrals meeting him for the first time, deserved the assurance that Nick cared enough to stick to his schedule.

His son deserved to know he cared enough to maintain regular visits, too. Bethany had never been good at keeping to a routine, and as a result, Nick had been lucky to see his son a few times a month. Since her death, however, he’d resolved to provide a stable influence. Also, at three, his son had become old enough to enjoy longer outings.

“I can’t skip a whole weekend with Caleb.” Holding the phone to his ear, Nick stepped outside into the crisp air. “I’ll be there Sunday night even if it’s only for an hour.”

Elaine caught her breath. He could almost hear her thinking fast. “I’ll tell you what. Saturday evening, my nephew and his wife plan to take the children to a puppet show in north Orange County. Why don’t you go with them? It’s halfway between us. I can email you the details.”

“That’ll be fine.” Locking the door, Nick conceded that, while he preferred to be alone with his son, this was a reasonable compromise. It might be extra fun for Caleb, too. “Thanks, Elaine.”

“My pleasure.” She sounded relieved.

What was going on with the Carrigans? Next weekend, Nick resolved to ask her. They all had to work together for Caleb’s benefit.

Turning, he discovered that the nurse had paused to chat with a neighbor. The delay offered a second chance. Nick could afford to carry out his original plan as long as he didn’t stop for any lengthy flirting, which he hadn’t intended, anyway.

He cut across the sparse lawn between a couple of squatty palm trees intent on shedding as many fronds as possible. Pacing his steps, he reached his target just as the neighbor disappeared into a unit and the nurse took out her keys.

At close range, she was taller than he’d guessed, perhaps five foot six, and he caught an appealing whiff of flowers. Sharp, intelligent gray eyes fixed on him questioningly.

“Hi, there,” Nick said casually. That was her cue to nod or smile or both. Instead, she froze, keys in hand, blinking at him.

Some people didn’t react well to the unexpected. “We haven’t met before,” he said to bridge the silence, and extended his hand. “I’m Dr. Davis.” While using his title could seem pompous, it might reassure her that he, too, worked at the medical center.

Another blink. “The hell you are!” she snapped, ignoring his outstretched hand. “Now, if you don’t mind?”

He was blocking her path, he realized. “Sorry.” Too stunned to figure out how else to react, Nick moved aside at the same moment as the nurse. After an awkward shuffle on the sidewalk, he cut his losses and stomped across the grass toward the parking lot. Behind him, he heard her door open and slam shut.

Sliding into his old blue coupe, Nick replayed the conversation, baffled. He’d said hello and introduced himself, and she’d answered, “The hell you are.”

The hell he was what? A doctor? True, he hadn’t yet put on his white coat, since he’d rather not risk soiling it. And he sported a few days’ growth of stubble, but why should that have provoked her response? Nick liked the casual effect of the beard, and Dr. Mark Rayburn, the administrator, hadn’t objected during their interview.

Rayburn had initially chosen another doctor for this position, Nick conceded as he exited the parking lot. He’d landed the job after his rival discovered over the holidays that she was pregnant, and decided against taking on such crazy hours.

Still, he’d been the runner-up. He assumed plenty of OBs had applied to the prestigious facility, which over the past half-dozen years had been transformed from a community hospital into an internationally recognized fertility center.

Nope, he decided as he cruised along the quiet residential streets en route to the hospital. His rough jaw wasn’t enough to warrant a slammed door.

Maybe the woman simply hated doctors in general. In that case, why had she become a nurse? Or did her blue-flowered uniform indicate something else? Perhaps she worked at a strip joint whose themed attractions included nurse-doctor seductions.

Better idea: quit thinking about her and move on.