Tempted by Her Single Dad Boss

by Annie O'Neil

  Maggie laughed. She’d clearly been expecting the less-than-enthusiastic response. “It’s a good job. I did it for years to earn my spending money.”

  “I’m only fourteen.” Billy made a noise suggesting her job proposal was akin to child labor.

  “So was I when I started. Keep your wrist and hand up, please, my friend.”

  Interesting. Many parents would’ve been as protective as hell about a double amputee in close quarters with a horse.

  “Well, then.” She nodded toward Alex. “I suspect Dr. Kirkland has some much more useful advice for you if you want to get back out to the rink as soon as possible.”

  Nice way to segue into the actual medical advice.

  Before he could start talking about finger movement and how six weeks was the bare minimum of recovery time, Billy continued, “Oh, there isn’t a hockey rink here. I was practicing my skids on Main Street.”

  Interesting. His father had told them it was a plain slip and fall that had caused the accident.

  Alex hid his smile at the sink as he filled a basin with warm water. He didn’t think he’d ever extracted this much information from a patient before. No wonder his invitations into town had dried up after the first few months here. He didn’t talk to people.

  Maggie patted the exam table. “Elbow back here, pal, or I’m going to have to clamp it down. How cool is that about the rink?”

  “No. There isn’t a rink.” Billy tried to wriggle his fingers and winced with pain. “The sidewalk in front of the bakery was frozen and my brother Tommy and I were having a skidding war before we salted them down.”

  “Sounds fun,” Maggie said.

  “Sounds like something that leads to a fractured wrist.”

  They both stared at Alex with expressions that made it clear he’d just rained on their parade.

  Well, it was true.

  “How about we get this splint on?”

  Maggie shot him a curious look. One that obviously wondered why fun and work couldn’t go hand in hand.

  It was a good question.

  * * *

  A few of hours later, after they’d completed the tour and the rest of Alex’s rounds, the pair of them stood outside the twins’ room. Alex scanned their charts as Rosaline looked on. The Haitian nurse’s expression was as calm and relaxed as ever. Nothing ever seemed to ruffle her feathers.

  “As I said, Dr. Kirkland, nothing of note today. Just the usual R&R.”

  “Rest and relaxation?” asked Maggie.

  “Rest and recovery,” corrected Rosaline. “This is gonna be one of those cases that gets under your skin.”

  “No doubt.” Maggie fist-bumped Rosaline. He saw an instant kinship blossom right in front of him.

  Alex shook his head in wonder. He’d never seen Rosaline do anything remotely hip. How did Maggie know to do these things?

  “Poor little things without their parents here.” Maggie poked her head around the corner at the children, who were watching a film on the ceiling-mounted television they could tilt to whatever angle suited the patient’s eyeline.

  His heart went out to her. She must’ve spent weeks if not months in and out of hospital after her own illness. Years of rehab. A lifetime really. Her “problem” would never go away, unlike these kids.

  Most people who’d been through what she had would run for the hills when it came to a hospital-based profession. Seeing patients achieve what she never could. The strength of character she must possess...

  “Dr. Kirkland?” Rosaline was giving him a funny look. “You have been in touch with the parents, right?”

  “Yes. Absolutely. If the weather forecasts are anything to go by, and we now know they’re not...” he threw a quick glance at Maggie, who gave a confirming nod of the head “...the replacement ferry is going to be up and running again in a couple of days. We can always get a helicopter from Boston Harbor to bring them over. Gratis.”

  Rosaline gave him one of her sidelong knowing looks. The one that said she knew he had a soft spot for certain patients, even though he claimed to treat them all the same.

  She was right. The Walsh children’s case had hit a nerve with him. Two parents trying to provide a bit of holiday magic with what little means they had and just like that, in a single terrifying moment, their children’s lives had changed. He was going to do everything in his power to make sure those two kids walked out of here with their heads held high.

  “Before we go in, shall we have a quick recap?”

  The women nodded. As if they had a choice. “Peyton’s SCI is the more severe of the two. Each twin’s spinal cord received a short, sharp blow when the loose scaffolding fell on them, the velocity of the poles only hindered by the wooden porch.”

  Rosaline and Maggie nodded. They knew what he was really saying. The twins were lucky to be alive at all.

  The emergency treatment they had received from the paramedics out of Boston Harbor had been exemplary. Somehow they’d managed to maintain blood pressure, which was crucial to keeping blood flow along the spinal cord. Dr. Rafael Valdez had been a bit of a revelation as well. The Spanish doctor had already been on the periphery of Alex’s radar. He was a relatively new hire at Boston Harbor, and he’d come up trumps with these two.

  “Peyton needed removal of bone fragments and stabilization for her fractured thoracic T11 and T12 as well as her L1 vertebrae.”

  “And the Brown-Sequard syndrome,” Maggie interjected.

  “Just getting to that.” It complicated things. A lot. “When Peyton suffered a penetrating injury from the end of a broken plank that had been part of the scaffolding walkway, it resulted in Brown-Sequard syndrome. In other words, one side of the spinal cord was damaged with neurological implications. Luckily, Dr. Valdez was able to extract the multiple shards of wood splintered in her thoracic spine and stop the leaching of spinal fluid. Had he not done that she would very likely have faced partial if not complete paralysis.”

  He flicked to another set of notes on his tablet then looked up, about to launch into another detailed ream of stats.

  Maggie, he saw, had her sponge face on again. He shook away the moniker. He needed to come up with another term. She wasn’t spongy in the slightest. She was...absorbed. Engaged. Interested. Completely committed. Just as she had been the moment his lips had touched hers.

  He cleared his throat, looked at his tablet and continued.

  “Connor is a bit better off. He received a single solitary blow from the scaffolding and had two incomplete vertebral fractures at L3 and L4.” Connor had, ironically enough, been the recipient of a ground-breaking surgery involving “mini-scaffolding” that was behaving as a three-dimensional bandage until his vertebrae were fully healed.

  “So, basically we need to get the motor signals in the spinal column up and running so we can teach these kids how to walk again,” Maggie said thoughtfully.

  He smiled and nodded. It was a nice way to boil down an extremely complicated medical scenario. He was impressed. Yet again. She had a canny knack for taking on incredibly detailed, complex medical information and cutting through to the quick of the matter. Very useful for talking to patients.

  “They’re young. Healthy, apart from the obvious.” He nodded toward the walking lab. “If all goes well, we’ll have them there in a couple of months.”

  “No better place for these children to be.” Rosaline gave Maggie another fist bump. “This is the place science and miracles collide.”

  A smile bloomed on Maggie’s lips. “Nice. I like that.” Her eyes glittered as she looked across at Alex. “Did you come up with that?”

  “I’m not much of a believer in miracles.”

  She made a derisive noise that said what Rosaline was muttering. “Surprise, surprise.”

  So he was a science guy. Miracles were—miracles were scooping gorgeous redheads up and
into your arms without so much as a thought as to how intimate it would feel. Only to compound the sensuality of the moment by getting into the shower with her...watching her undress. Feeling every muscle in his body ache to pull her to him—then do it. And kiss her as if he were a man who’d just crawled out of the desert and she was the oasis. Yup. Unless you counted any of that, he was definitely a science guy all the way.

  Otherwise he’d have to chalk up his son’s arrival as divine intervention. And letting go of her? That had been pure, straight-up hell.

  A twinge of guilt lanced his conscience. When he’d tucked Jake in last night, his son had asked about his mother. Alex had murmured something noncommittal in return, given him a kiss then left his son’s room as quickly as possible, unable to match up the feelings he was having for Maggie with the ones he’d had for Amy.

  What he felt when he looked at Maggie was something entirely different than what he’d experienced with Amy. He’d been young then. Driven. Looking forward because looking back had been too painful.

  All he’d done in the past six years was look back. But with Maggie?

  She was...invigorating. Refreshing. Life-affirming. She made him think about tomorrow. And the day after that. And it scared the hell out of him.

  “You okay, Doc?”

  “Of course.” Alex gave a little laugh to prove it. Rosaline quirked an eyebrow at him, making it clear she didn’t buy it.

  “I’ll leave you two to it, then, Dr. Kirkland. I’m just going to go check on Salty. See if he’s reduced anyone else to tears recently.”

  “Good luck with that.” Maggie laughed. “Nice to meet you, Rosaline.”

  “You too, honey. Wonderful to have someone on the team who brings a smile to this man’s face.”

  Alex and Maggie stared at each other.

  She was gone before Alex could protest. He’d smiled before he’d met Maggie.

  “Shall we go say hi to the twins?”

  His shoulders dropped away from his ears as Maggie went in and began her usual bubbly chatter with the children. From the sound of their squeals you’d have thought they hadn’t seen each other for a year.

  Maybe it was a show? Maggie doing her best to ignore Rosaline’s comment as diligently as he was? If that was the case, they’d get along just fine.

  Oh, you get along a whole lot more than fine.

  And therein lay the crux of the matter.

  Sure, it had been less than twenty-four hours since he’d met her, but he’d known in fewer than a handful that he’d ask Amy to marry him one day.

  Look how well that had turned out.

  You have a beautiful boy. A son. If you hadn’t taken a risk, you wouldn’t have Jake.

  He leant against the doorframe and watched Maggie as she did a few non-traditional shadow puppets on the wall to crack the twins up. It worked.

  Acknowledging these feelings, admitting his attraction, facing up to the fact Maggie had blasted into his life, kicked open the door to his heart and jammed her foot in it... If he faced up to all those things, owned them? It meant moving on. And he wasn’t sure he would ever be ready for that. Staying angry with Amy...well, he guessed it kept the grief at bay.

  Thank goodness he hadn’t made a New Year’s resolution list. Sorting out six years of fastidiously ignored emotions was more than enough to confront. Or he could do what he usually did—ignore it all and carry on as he was doing. Life was fine. Jake was fine. The patients were fine. Everything was fine.

  Fine isn’t enough. Is it?

  He forced himself to tune into the conversation the twins were having with Maggie.

  “How ’bout this place, huh? Totally worth yesterday’s drama, am I right?”

  They said something he couldn’t quite make out.

  “What?” She stared at both of them, then shook her head. “No way. Dr. Alex is super-nice. Sometimes he talks like a butler, but that’s just because his brains are so big. Trust me.” She made an exaggerated cross over her heart. “He is absolutely the best man to help you both get on over to the rehab gym where we can use all of their cool gadgets, yeah?” She glanced over at Alex, a hint of uncertainty in her gaze. She knew her style was totally different from his. But that’s what this whole exercise was about—seeing patients together. Seeing if their styles...meshed. His heart started hammering against his chest. It was clearly in cahoots with his soul. Asking for another chance to show what it could do.

  First up? He’d show the kids he was more than an uptight butler. Mind you, Jeeves was a damn sight better than Dr. Protocol.

  “Right, kiddos. Rosaline will be back shortly if you need her, but in the meantime you two rest up real good, y’hear?” Alex said heartily.

  Since when was he talking southern again?

  No points for that one.

  Maggie was beaming at the children. “See? Doesn’t he have a great accent? No one can be boring when they talk like that. You should hear him say ‘apple pie.’”

  Their eyes met and held tight.

  “Apple pie.”

  He was rewarded with cheers from the three of them.

  Despite himself, he grinned, and performed a little bow. “Happy to be of service to y’all.”

  They cheered again.

  Funny. He’d always made a point of hiding his accent. As if it betrayed the fact he was human. Had a past. Had feelings.

  Maggie dropped kisses on each of the children’s foreheads. “Enjoy the rest of your movie and I’ll see you soon, okay?”

  A chorus of “Goodbye” and “See you soon” rang through the room. The complete opposite from how things normally were. Quiet. Serene. Scientific.

  The funny thing was, as he and Maggie headed toward their next patient, he caught himself whistling.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  “I DON’T THINK he’s ready.”

  Maggie dug her heels in. “I think he can handle it.”

  Nothing like a stand-off with the boss about a patient to test the whole Let’s see how we work together thing. Especially when all Maggie could think about was kissing him.

  It had been nearly seventy-two hours since she’d arrived on the island—not that she was counting—and still her lips were reliving those kisses as if they’d just parted.

  She scrunched the thoughts into a corner of her brain and tried again. “This is why you hired me, remember? To do equine therapy.”

  Alex’s body language screamed defensiveness. Arms crossed, posture ramrod straight, green eyes at half-mast. She got it. His clinic. His ground-breaking methods. His rules. And yet...she still wanted to reach out to him. Touch him. Soothe away his rigid my-way-or-the-highway vibe. Show him she had a different way of looking at things that could bring out something new in a patient.

  They opted for a staring contest.

  Had she noticed how long and jet black his lashes were before?

  Damn long and inky black was the answer to that one.

  She mirrored his own body language to see if that helped.

  “No horses. Not today.”

  Okay, so that hadn’t worked. She dropped the crossed-arms pose. Even when he was telling her no his voice was lovely. Like a late-night radio chat show host who lulled you to sleep.

  She put on her best professional voice to try another tack to make her point. “In my opinion, I think the patient is best served if we approach their weak points head on. Getting Mark out to the barn is a great way to do that.”

  “Mark has plenty of things to work on in the ability lab.”

  Alex’s program was great. No surprise there. The thing was, she found it much easier to get a read on a patient’s emotional well-being if she saw them interact with the horses. The four-legged therapists had a sixth sense about people and the way they responded to a patient and vice versa revealed much more than a simple sit-down chat could
.

  She swallowed the slew of examples she wanted to parade in front of Alex and put on a smile instead. He liked facts. Order. “So. What we’ve got here is an army veteran. Retired, disabled at thirty-five with PTSD. But that’s not why he’s here. He’s recovering from a stroke and is learning to walk again. Hopefully without the double set of canes that he is currently using.”

  “Which is why he should be heading over to the walking lab.” Alex made one of those faces that said he was obviously in the right.

  “Absolutely. But...” she brandished her index finger “...not until I observe him with a horse.”

  “For what purpose?”

  “A number of things. I want to see if he will take the opportunity to walk there for one. If getting out of the hospital and into a barn is a big enough incentive. Two, in the lab he’s going to be on high alert. Anxious. He’s got depression, right?”

  Alex nodded. “We have a psychiatrist on the team. Two of them, in fact.”

  “But you don’t have anyone doing equine therapy with them. I’d be more than happy to team up with a therapist while I do the physio.” She held up a hand as Alex parted those perfect lips of his and kept on talking. “Three, I don’t even want to put Mark on a horse today. I just want to see how the horse responds to him and vice versa.”

  “What’s that going to tell you?”

  She looked him straight in the eye and said, “What’s inside.”

  It was one of the most powerful tools she had. She met people at their most vulnerable and the way they approached a horse told her a dozen things about the patient right off. If they were scared. Angry. Weighted with grief. Come to think of it, she wouldn’t mind seeing Alex down at the barn with a horse.

  Alex put on a voice that sounded an awful lot like he was placating a spoiled child. “We know you’d planned on doing a bit of riding with a handful of patients, but I think for today it would be best if you just stick to the proto—To the plan,” he hastily corrected himself.

  She fought the urge to grin because this wasn’t about teasing Alex. It was about what was best for a patient.