Then he’d gone down a different path with Vicki and their destinies hadn’t crossed again, until now. Belle was his past. Connor was his future. The sooner Nick got that straight, the better off he’d be. “Belle and I parted ways a long time ago, son. We’re different people now.”
His son seemed to consider that a moment. “And then you met Mom.”
“And then I met your mother.”
Connor yawned and Nick took his cue to leave. He slipped out of the bed and walked to the door again, picking up his shoes along the way. “Good night, son.”
“‘Night.” Con snuggled down under the covers. “Hey, Dad?”
“Yeah?”
“If Belle decides to stay, would she be able to help Analia?”
Nick exhaled slowly and hung his head. “She won’t stay, son. She needs to get back to California. Her life is there.”
“Miracles happen all the time.” Connor peered at Nick, the covers tucked beneath his chin as icy snow tapped against the window panes. “Mom used to say that too.”
The chances of Belle choosing Bayside over Beverly Hills were slim to none, but it was late and Nick was tired. “We’ll see. Now, get some sleep. We’ve got a busy day tomorrow.”
“Hey, Dad?” Connor’s yawn obscured the words.
Nick stopped halfway out of the room. “Yes, son?”
“When are you going to let me walk to school like Eric does?”
He sighed. The question struck far close to home after Belle’s judgmental remarks earlier. He didn’t want to smother Connor, but he’d do anything to keep him safe. “We’ll talk about it tomorrow, okay? Now go to sleep.”
“Okay,” Connor said, his tone resigned. “Love you.”
“Love you too, son.” Nick closed the door, feeling like he’d gone ten rounds with an MMA fighter instead of put his kid to bed. When Vicki had been alive, they’d used to talk about stuff they wanted to do with Connor. Take him across the country and visit all the national parks. Let him have free rein in what he wanted to learn and do and be, within reason. Raise him to be an independent, free-thinking, fearless boy.
Now Nick watched his kid like a hawk. He didn’t let Connor cross the street alone because another child had been hit last year on Main Street on his way home from school. Granted, it had been the beginning of summer and with the tourists beginning to flock to the area the number of distracted drivers on the road had increased, but it didn’t reassure Nick at all. He trusted Connor. It was everyone else who made him wary. In the rational part of his mind, he knew he couldn’t keep Con under his wing forever, but he wasn’t sure how he’d cope if anything happened to his son.
Bone-weary, he checked the locks then shut off the lights before heading to bed himself, Belle’s words still echoing through his head. He didn’t want to be controlling. Back in the day, he’d gone with the flow and dealt with the punches as they came.
But as he brushed his teeth then finally climbed between the sheets, he realized life had changed him. Much as he hated to admit it, maybe he should allow Connor a little more freedom. After all, that was why he’d moved back to Bayside. The safety, the security.
Except with Belle back in town, the well-ordered life he’d tried to rebuild and protect suddenly felt threatened. He turned onto his back and stared up at the ceiling. He closed his eyes, but all he could see was Belle sitting in the diner, shiny as a new penny under the harsh fluorescent lights, and his chest squeezed with an odd mix of apprehension and anticipation.
Grumbling, he turned over and punched his pillow before burying his face in it. Hell, he wasn’t sure why he was getting all riled up over her return anyway. Wasn’t like he was interested in getting involved with her again. Just the opposite. For all he knew, she was seeing someone out in California. The thought nipped at him despite his wish to the contrary.
No. In a few hours he’d face her again, clear-headed and logical this time because if he was honest, having Belle back in Bayside was far more dangerous to him than any hit-and-run driver would ever be.
CHAPTER THREE
BELLE ARRIVED AT the clinic at nine sharp the next morning, only to find Nick already there. She went inside and took off her coat, hanging it on a peg behind the receptionist’s desk. The short drive from her aunt’s house had done little to improve her outlook, though wearing her sturdy boots this morning had helped on the slick pavement outside. She’d slept poorly the night before, a mixture of replaying in her head the phone call with Dr. Reyes and the dinner with Nick. It had all created a swirl of insomnia she’d been unable to conquer.
Nick leaned out of one of the exam rooms down the short hallway in front of her and flashed a polite smile. “Good morning.”
“What’s good about it?” she mumbled. “Is there coffee?”
He strolled out, looking far better than any man had a right to in faded jeans and T-shirt hugging his muscular torso in all the right places. Belle wasn’t sure why she’d expected him to show up in his lab coat again, but that would have been far preferable, and safer, than what he was wearing now. Her pulse sped as he slouched a shoulder against the wall, his ankles crossed. “I thought you liked tea.”
“I do,” she snapped, feeling even more out of sorts thanks to the man across from her. “But since there isn’t a decent cup in this town, I’ll settle for coffee.”
He disappeared back into the exam room again, emerging moments later with a cardboard tray bearing two covered cups from a shop she’d never heard of and the stout man from the diner the night before following close at his heels. Nick held out the tray to her. “I ran up to Manistee after I dropped Connor off at school this morning. Consider it my peace offering. And let me introduce you to Mr. Juan Hernandez. He’s agreed to help us fix up the clinic.”
Belle shook the man’s hand. “Hello. You were at Pat’s last night with your family.”
“Yes. My wife and daughter.” Juan smiled. “Analia is my little princess.”
“Juan’s a great carpenter. Did all the renovations on my house here in Bayside. He’ll be a big help getting the clinic reopened.” Nick glanced over at Belle. “If you’re staying.”
“I’m staying.” She took one of the cups, lifting the lid to sniff the steaming liquid inside.
“It’s green tea,” Nick said. “You tried to order it last night, right?”
“Right.” She took a sip and couldn’t suppress a tiny sigh of pleasure.
“Good, huh?” The amusement twinkling in his warm brown eyes had her turning away fast. His continued effect on her was crazy. Stupid. Beyond inconvenient, considering they had exactly eight days until they reopened the clinic on Christmas Eve. After that, she’d be on the first plane back to California. She took another swallow of tea for fortitude. “This is very good. Thank you. Dr. Reyes gave me an extension on my bereavement leave through Christmas Eve. We have a little over a week to get the clinic ready to reopen. Thus, we need a plan.”
“‘Thus, we need a plan,’” Nick parroted back to her. “Since when do you say ‘thus’?”
“People change.” She walked around the receptionist desk, trailing her finger though a thick coating of dust. The paint on the walls was faded and the carpets were worn. The ceiling tiles above sported a few water stains, as well. One of the fluorescent lights popped and hissed ominously and a strange wheezing noise echoed from the heating vent above the desk. All in all, the place was a mess. “You weren’t kidding about the clinic being run-down.”
“When Marlene’s health took a turn for the worse, she had a hard time keeping up. I offered to help her, but she refused,” Nick said. “You know how she was. Always doing for other people, never accepting assistance herself.”
“Yes.” Belle headed down to check out the three exam rooms. The equipment had to be as old as she was. It was going to take a massive effort to get this all up to snuff. Good thing her can-do attitu
de was what had gotten her where she was today.
“Juan will oversee the repairs and any issues with the heating and electrical. What he can’t fix himself, he knows the people who can. My PA’s agreed to take on extra patients, which allows me to split my time between this place and my office.” Nick stepped into the small exam room behind her, his warmth surrounding her. “And my office manager, Jeanette, volunteered to handle the front-desk duties at the free clinic, so we can check that off the list. Between all of us, we should have all the boxes checked.”
Juan excused himself to inspect the rest of the clinic and Belle blinked at the anatomy poster on the wall, the paper yellowing around the edges. It had hung there for as long as she could remember.
“I just have one remaining question,” Nick said.
Belle looked back at him over her shoulder. “What?”
“Yesterday, you were all about leaving. What changed your mind?”
When she hadn’t been able to sleep the night before, she’d gone through more of her aunt’s things. Photos, letters, mementos. All of it had reminded Belle how much Aunt Marlene had loved this place. How much she’d loved Belle too. It had been enough to make Belle determined to see her aunt’s last wishes fulfilled, no matter how difficult it might be to have Nick hovering around her for the next two weeks. “You were right. My aunt deserves better. If reopening the free clinic one last time was important to her, I’ll make it happen.”
“Hmm.” Nick stepped closer and her pulse kicked up a notch. “Say that again.”
Belle frowned. “If reopening the clinic is important—”
“No. The other part.”
“What other part?”
“Where you said I was right. I don’t hear it often enough. Especially from you.”
“Too bad.” Belle walked out of the exam room and headed for the lobby once more, doing her best to focus on the job ahead and not the irritating man behind her. “We need to make a list of supplies to order, both cleaning and medical.”
“I can take care of the medical part.” Nick shrugged. “I have a shipment coming in for my practice next Monday. We can take what we need from that then I’ll restock again after Christmas. It’s only for one day, so we should have plenty to cover both clinics.”
“Okay. Then I’ll stop by the store in Manistee and pick up cleaning supplies when I go to the hospital later to spread the word about the clinic. Maybe I’ll stop by the office supply place too and have some flyers made up so we can post them around town to help us spread the word.”
“Sounds good.” Nick grinned. “Maybe we could see about doing a little promo at the Chamber of Commerce Holiday Ball next week, as well. I can talk to the mayor’s office.”
“Great. I need to be there anyway to accept Aunt Marlene’s award.”
“Right. We could go together, schmooze the locals, build some buzz for the clinic.”
It almost felt like old times, back when they’d both worked here after school, but she stopped herself. This was all only temporary. Things were different now. The sooner she remembered that, the better. She looked at Nick again for a moment before grabbing her coat. “Maybe. I should probably get going up to Manistee.”
“But you just got here,” he started, only to be interrupted by the front door opening.
A beautiful woman about Belle’s age, with long dark hair and sparkling onyx eyes walked in holding the hand of the little girl with Crouzon syndrome from the night before.
“I know you,” the little girl said, her words slightly lisped. She pulled free from her mother and headed for Belle. “You were at Pat’s last night. You’re pretty.”
“Thank you.” Belle crouched in front of the child. “What’s your name?”
“Analia,” the little girl said, reaching out to touch Belle’s red coat. “Red’s my favorite color.”
“Mine too.” Up close, she studied the little girl’s features—wide-set and bulging eyes, beaked nose, and an underdeveloped upper jaw. Classic Crouzon’s. The premature fusion of certain skull bones had resulted in the abnormal shape of the girl’s head and face. Nick had mentioned breathing problems too. Not uncommon. Belle had worked with two children with similar cases back in California, performing the complicated surgery and follow-ups to correct problems like Analia’s. Too bad she wouldn’t be here long enough this time.
Her heart tugged as she straightened. Part of her wanted to throw caution to the wind and take the case anyway. It would be simple enough to do a consult and examination, obtain the necessary releases, then book an OR in Manistee. But she already had more than enough on her plate to keep her busy during her short stay in Bayside and Nick had mentioned working the little girl in with his colleague in Detroit. The most prudent course of action was to let him handle it.
Instead, she introduced herself to Analia’s mother. “Dr. Watson. Please call me Belle.”
“Rosa Hernandez.” The woman’s grip was firm and sure. “We came to take my husband to breakfast, if you can spare him for an hour or so.”
“I think we can,” Nick said, calling over his shoulder. “Juan, your family’s here.”
The guy came out and picked up Analia, hugging her tight before kissing his wife. “I’ll be back. After we eat, I’ll swing by the hardware store and pick up what I need to get started.”
Belle watched them leave, then turned back to Nick. “She needs the surgery done.”
“She does. Too bad you won’t be sticking around.” Nick flinched. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything. I know you’ve got other commitments.”
Hurt pinched her chest. He made the word commitments sound more like excuses. “The procedure required to correct her abnormalities is major. Wires on her jaw for at least a month to spur new bone growth. She’d have to wear a halo device for at least four months to stabilize everything. It wouldn’t be fair of me to take a case, Nick, knowing I wouldn’t be around to see it through. My time in Bayside is limited. I need to be honest about what I can and can’t do here.”
“You’re right.” He sighed and turned away, wandering back down the hall. “Drive safely to Manistee. I’ll see you when you get back.”
Belle grabbed her bag then left the clinic, feeling like she was caught in a trap with no safe way out.
* * *
Nick spent the rest of his day dealing with what felt like one emergency after another. Turned out all those water stains on the ceiling tiles were due to a pipe with a slow leak in the ceiling. Juan had no more than gotten a plumber there to correct the problem than his PA called.
“Sorry to bother you, but I’m afraid I’ve got a suspected case of bacterial meningitis.”
“Damn.” Nick’s heart sped. Meningitis was highly contagious and would require reporting to the local Board of Health. He prayed it wasn’t someone from Connor’s school. “Who’s the patient?”
“Lisa Merkel, age twelve. Homeschooled,” the PA said. The knot of tension between Nick’s shoulder blades eased slightly. “Patient has a high fever, stiff neck, headache, and nausea.”
He scrubbed a hand over his face. “I’m on my way.”
After letting Juan know he was leaving, Nick raced over to his offices. The white limestone exterior of the building gleamed in the sunshine as he pulled into his reserved spot. He walked in, still dressed in jeans and a sweatshirt but slipped on a lab coat to look more professional before going in to see the Merkels.
The parents were understandably upset, and poor Lisa looked horrible, her face pale and clammy and her body racked with shivers from the fever. Nick went over the chart and immediately called an ambulance to transport the girl to the hospital in Manistee. After talking with the ER doc on duty about the case, he went back into the exam room to console the parents until the EMTs arrived.
“We’ll do everything we can to help her. The ER at Manistee General is prepared for her
arrival. The doc there will do a lumbar puncture to confirm the meningitis then begin antibiotics prophylactically while we wait for the results. She’s in good hands.”
* * *
By the time he made it home that night it was well past ten and Connor was already asleep. He sent the sitter home then slumped down on the sofa in his living room, the TV droning in the background. Medicine wasn’t a nine-to-five job and he was grateful to have found Mollie to watch his son. She was an older woman whose husband had passed away a few years before Nick had moved back to Bayside. She loved Connor almost as much as Nick did and treated the little boy like one of her grandsons.
After a yawn and a stretch, Nick got up and wandered upstairs to Con’s room, sneaking over to give the kid a kiss, narrowly avoiding tripping over the toys and hockey equipment strewn across the floor, before he headed back down to the kitchen to fix himself some dinner.
Bless Mollie’s heart, she’d left him a plate of homemade chicken and dumplings in the fridge. The dish was Connor’s favorite. Nick popped it into the microwave then got a glass of water to drink. As he waited for his food to heat, he felt a weird pang in his chest.
Not sadness. Not grief over Marlene either.
Loneliness. That’s what it was. Except he didn’t have any business feeling lonely.
He’d chosen his path and he was at peace with it.
Aren’t I?
The microwave beeped and he took out his food, then grabbed a fork and a napkin before carrying it all back into the living room to eat in front of the TV. He should be used to it by now. Vicki had been gone nearly two years. He’d made the right choice.
Then an image of Belle from earlier popped into his head.
He’d been glad to see she’d dressed more sensibly in jeans and a sweater and boots. A vast improvement from the day before. In fact, she’d almost reminded him of the old Belle—same killer curves, same killer smile, same sweet, clean scent...
A Mistletoe Kiss for the Single Dad Page 4