The Doctor's Christmas Wish

“Hang tight, old boy. This shouldn’t take long.” Ethan scrubbed the animal’s face between his hands. “I’ll let you out when I get back.”

The dog’s ears drooped, but he obediently lowered himself to his haunches and rested his chin on his paws.

Ethan grabbed his coat and trod through the three inches of snow that had fallen throughout the day. He didn’t have far to go. The backyard of Keely’s childhood home spilled into his. They had that in common, both living in the houses they’d grown up in, having inherited them from their parents. Ethan, after his had died. Keely, after hers had moved to Arizona.

He was on her back stoop, stomping snow off his boots, when the door flung open. “What took you so long?”

Since she sounded like a terrified new parent, he forgave her for her rudeness. “Came as fast as I could.”

“Don’t just stand there. Come inside.”

Holding his tongue, again, he climbed the steps. As was becoming a habit whenever they were up close and personal, he reminded himself this was Keely. Once upon a time she’d been just another skinny kid hanging out with his younger sister.

Despite growing into a beautiful woman with long, gorgeous red hair, amazing green eyes and a figure that jealous peers had once compared to Jessica Rabbit’s, Keely was still that same annoying girl Ethan tolerated because she was his sister’s BFF.

Except, lately, things had changed between them. Their relationship was morphing into something new, something charged with tension and awkward pauses. The initial shift had started nearly a year ago, right after she’d left her big-city life in New York and settled back in Colorado.

Ethan moved deeper in the house.

The inevitable kick in his gut came right on schedule, as it always did whenever his gaze locked with Keely’s. Tonight, the sensation hit him hard. It wasn’t an altogether awful feeling, kind of reminded him of danger-induced adrenaline.

Precarious territory. “Where’s the patient?”

“Her name is Felicity.”

“Right.” Ethan shed his coat, tossed it on a nearby bench. “Where is she?”

“Upstairs in her room.”

Ethan recognized the panic in Keely’s voice, which was mirrored in her wide, almond-shaped green eyes. Her long, wavy hair was also disheveled, as if she’d dragged both hands through the now tangled strands more than a few times.

At the obvious signs of her distress, everything in him softened. He gently touched her sleeve. “I’m here, Keely. I’ll take care of the child.”

She drew in a few unsteady breaths, her legendary hostility toward him diminishing with each exhale. “I... I believe you.”

He dropped his hand. “One last question before I have a look at her. How old is she?”

“She turned seven last month.”

His throat squeezed shut. His eyes began to burn.

What were the odds? He swallowed, hard. He’d barely regained his equilibrium when Keely took off at a clipped pace.

Ethan followed after her. They moved at the speed of light from kitchen to living room to stairwell. The smells of home filled him, a mixture of floral scents, furniture polish and freshly baked bread.

He hadn’t been inside this house in years. Like a good neighbor, he’d left Keely alone. She’d done the same for him, a situation that worked for them both.

But now, as he followed her through the house, Ethan wondered why he’d kept his distance. He liked the grown-up Keely, sometimes, when she wasn’t being snarky or unnecessarily antagonistic. A couple of unfortunate incidents from the past didn’t mean they couldn’t find a happy rhythm going into the future. Maybe they could even be friends. Now that she was twenty-nine and he thirty-four, their five-year age gap didn’t seem so large.

At the top of the stairs, she stopped outside the second room on her right. Hand on the doorknob, she swung her gaze to his. Slam. He told himself he was imagining the body blow. But, of course, he wasn’t.

“Keely, after I’m through examining the child I’d like the two of us to—”

A little girl’s whimper cut off the rest of his words. Ethan’s pulse picked up speed. Blood rushed in his ears. Memories yanked at him, emptying his mind of everything but a miserable sense of grief and loss.

He hadn’t expected this strong reaction. He saw kids every day at the office. No problem. Yet here he was, his heart pounding and his breath speeding up. He fought the urge to close his eyes. If he did, he’d be back at Fort Bragg, back to the time when he thought he would be a husband and a father. A split-second swerve to miss a skunk had taken away that future.

This wasn’t about him.

Mouth grim, he shoved aside the unwanted memories and walked into the room.

* * *

Keely couldn’t figure out why Ethan’s shoulders were bunched as he made his way toward Felicity’s bed, or why he seemed overly tense. She’d take his behavior personally, but now that she thought about it, she realized he’d been relatively relaxed when he first entered through the back door. He’d only grown silent and progressively distant as she’d guided him through the house.

A tall, broad-shouldered man, he moved toward Felicity at the slow, steady pace of a graceful jungle cat. With his glossy black hair and pale blue eyes, Ethan Scott was entirely too good-looking for his own good. The two days’ worth of scruff on his well-defined, square jaw gave him a dangerous edge.

Keely had no problem imagining him in the Army Ranger uniform he’d once worn. She shook away the thought, and lifted up a silent prayer that Ethan proved to be the capable doctor everyone in their small town of Village Green, Colorado, claimed he was.

With heavy, lumbering steps, Keely joined him beside Felicity’s bed. Tonight he looked more like a regular guy than a former soldier turned successful doctor. He wore faded jeans and a long-sleeve T-shirt that read Of Course I Don’t Look Busy. I Did It Right the First Time.

Typical Ethan, the big, bad, frustrating bane of her existence.

“You must be Felicity,” he said to the little girl in a low, rough voice that sounded slightly tortured. What was up with that? “I’m your neighbor Ethan. I’m also a doctor.”

In her unnaturally pale face, Felicity’s big blue eyes rounded. “You don’t look like a doctor.”

“That’s because I keep my white coat at the office.” He drew in an audible breath, then carefully sat on the edge of the bed, his eyes running over the child, gauging, measuring. “I understand you’re not feeling well.”

Felicity’s blond curls bobbed up and down. “My tummy hurts real bad.”

“Can you tell me where it hurts?”

She whimpered. “Everywhere.”

He went still for a beat, his expression bland, giving nothing away. Keely had no idea what was in his head, but she knew what was in hers. Concern for the little girl she’d agreed to take into her home. The transition from carefree single woman to legal guardian of a seven-year-old had begun months ago, only becoming official this week. She was still reeling.

“Okay, Felicity, I’m going to—”

“You can call me Flicka.” Cheeks bright pink, the little girl lifted a skinny shoulder. “But only if you want to.”

The easy, affectionate smile Ethan gave the child was very different from the tight, barely tolerant ones Keely received.

“Okay, Flicka, I’m going to perform a few tests. When I press on your stomach, I need you tell me if it hurts.”

The little girl nodded again. There was nothing but trust in her eyes, even while her hands clenched around the bedcovers as if she were preparing to embark on a wild amusement park ride.

Incredibly gentle, Ethan pressed on her stomach. “Any pain?”