Priceless

“When it’s a matter of life and death, of course I do,” she said fiercely. “I went into medicine to save lives.”

“Why?” Before she could reply, he added, “I know it’s a noble profession, but dealing with sick kids has to be an emotional killer. Why you? Why this field?”

She was surprised that he actually seemed interested in her response. “I was drawn to it early on,” she said, aware that she was being evasive by suggesting that it hadn’t been the motivating force in her entire life. With any luck, Mack wouldn’t realize it.

“Because?” he prodded, not accepting the response at face value and proving once more that he was a more insightful man than she’d expected him to be.

“Why does it matter to you?” she asked, still dodging a direct answer to his question.

His eyes studied her intently. “Because it obviously matters to you.”

Once again his insight caught her off guard. It was evident he wasn’t going to let this go until he’d heard at least some version of the truth. “Okay, here it is in a nutshell. I had an older brother who died of leukemia when I was ten,” she told him, revealing more than she had to anyone other than her family. They knew all too well what her motivation had been for choosing medicine, and they didn’t entirely approve of her choice, fearing she was doomed to have repeated heartaches. “I vowed to save other kids like him.”

Mack regarded her with what appeared to be real sympathy. “Like I said, you take it personally.”

She sighed at the assessment. “Yes, I suppose I do.”

“How long do you think you can keep it up, if you take every case to heart?”

“As long as I have to,” she insisted tightly. “I only see a few patients. Most of my time is spent in research. Our treatments are getting better and better all the time.” Sadly, Tony wasn’t responding well to any of them, which was why she’d taken such an intense interest in his case.

“But not with Tony,” Mack said.

Beth fought against the salty sting of unexpected tears. “Not with Tony, at least not yet,” she admitted softly. Then she set her jaw and regarded Mack defiantly, blinking back those tell-tale tears. “But we’re going to win this battle, too.”

He gave her an admiring look. “Yes, I think you will,” he said quietly. “Will my being here actually help Tony?”

“Hopefully it will improve his spirits,” Beth assured him. “He’s been a little down lately, and sometimes boosting a child’s morale is the most important thing we can do. We need to keep him from giving up on himself or on us.”

Mack nodded. “Okay, then. Let’s go in there and talk football.” He gave her an impudent grin. “I assume you won’t be saying much.”

Beth laughed despite herself, liking Mack far more than she’d ever expected to. She could forgive a lot in a person who had a sense of humor, whether about her foibles or his own. “Probably not.”

His expression sobered. “Good. What I do for a living may not be medicine or rocket science, but I’d hate to have you dismiss it in front of a kid who thinks it matters.”

Beth stared at him as his point struck home. Her opinion of football or of Mack Carlton didn’t matter right now. “Touché, Mr. Carlton. I’ll definitely refrain from comment. This is all about Tony.”

He winked. “Call me Mack. My fans do.”

“I’m not one of your fans.”

“Stick around,” he taunted lightly. “You might be, after this.”

Beth bit back a sigh. Yes, she could be, she admitted to herself. Not that Mighty Mack Carlton needed another conquest in his life. The gossip columns were littered with the names of women who thought they had the inside track in his life. She’d noticed that few of them ever got a second mention. She wasn’t the least bit inclined to test her luck in an already crowded field.

“Don’t hold your breath, Mr. Carlton. Besides, the only person whose adoration counts is Tony, and you’ve already got a lock on that.”

“I wouldn’t mind at least a hint of approval from you, too,” he said, his gaze capturing hers and holding it.

Despite the obvious attempt to disconcert her, Beth felt herself falling under his spell. She found it irritating. “Why? Do you have to win over every woman you meet?”

He hesitated then, and an odd look that might have been confusion flickered in his eyes. “How well do you know my aunt?” he asked.

The out-of-the-blue question caught her off guard. “Your aunt?”

“Destiny Carlton, the woman you contacted who made sure I came over here today.”

Beth shook her head. “I don’t believe we’ve met,” she said. “Though I recognize the name. I think she raises a lot of money for the hospital. I never spoke to her, though.”

Mack seemed surprised. “You really don’t know her?”

“No.”

“And you didn’t call her?”

“No. Why?”

He shook his head, obviously more puzzled than ever. “Doesn’t matter.”

Despite his denial, Beth got the distinct impression that it mattered a lot. She simply had no idea why.

2 (#ulink_5dfd502e-19f5-5f2e-9de7-36f0d4a30637)

Mack had been in his share of hospital rooms. He’d had enough football injuries to guarantee that—including one final blown-out knee that had ended his career on the field. Granted, his life had never been on the line, but even so, he hated the antiseptic smell, the too-perky nurses, the beeps and whirring of machines, the evasiveness of the doctors who never looked you in the eye when the news was bad. If he’d hated it, how much worse must it be for a kid, especially a kid who had to face the possibility that he might not come out alive?

During his football career, Mack had made it a habit to visit children in this hospital and others. The smiles on their faces, knowing that for a few minutes, at least, he’d taken them away from their problems, made his own discomfort seem like a small thing.

Now that his own playing days were over, he made fewer of these visits. Most kids wanted to meet the current players, and from his position in the team’s front office, he made sure it happened, even if it made some of the biggest, brawniest players in the league cry afterward. Men who took a lot for granted suddenly started counting their blessings after a hospital visit to cheer kids facing the toughest fights of their lives. Nothing he’d ever encountered had given him a better perspective on what mattered in life.

Outside Tony Vitale’s door, he braced himself for what he’d find inside—a pale kid, maybe bald, his eyes haunted. Mack had seen it too many times not to expect the worst. It never failed to make his chest tighten and his throat close up. Forcing himself not to react visibly had been one of the hardest lessons he’d ever had to learn.

“You okay?” Beth asked, regarding him worriedly. “You’re not going to walk in there and pass out on me, are you?”

Mack gave her a disbelieving look. “Hardly.”

“You wouldn’t be the first man who couldn’t take seeing a kid this sick,” she said.

“I’ve been here before.”

She gave him a look filled with understanding and commiseration. “It’s always hardest the first time. After that, it gets easier.”

“I doubt that,” Mack said.

Her gaze stayed on his face. “You ready?” she asked finally, as if she’d seen some minute change in his demeanor that had satisfied her.

“Let’s do it.”

Beth pushed open the door, a seemingly genuine smile on her face. “Hey, Tony,” she called out cheerfully. “Have I got a surprise for you!”