by Jillian Hart
Why Chelsea? Why did he have to bump into her of all people? “Kelsey’s mom called me directly.”
“I know you cover your own patients on off-hours, but I happened to see them checking in at the E.R. Judging by the look on your face, things aren’t good.”
“They could hardly be worse.” He clamped his molars together, locking his jaw. He didn’t want to talk about it. He had to keep the doors on his heart closed. He grabbed a cup from the stack and wedged it beneath the dispenser. “You must be on call.”
“Yes, and I was called in.” She balanced the tray on one slim hip, trying to make eye contact with him.
As if he was going to let himself be exposed to the caring in her heartfelt blue eyes, full of understanding. No way was he going to open that door to his heart, not when he had it locked completely. “Anything serious?”
“A patient had a high temp. She scared us pretty good, but it’s on the way down again.” She led the way to the refrigerated sandwiches bundled in tidy packages and chose one. “I really dislike antibiotic resistant bugs.”
“Me, too.” He might as well take a sandwich too. The turkey and cranberry looked good, so he tossed it onto his tray. “You’re still here. Keeping an eye on her?”
“I can’t help myself. I’ll stay until she’s discharged, another hour or two.” She grabbed a package of chips to add to the sandwich. “Is there anything I can do for Kelsey?”
“I wish.” He couldn’t look at her. He’d gotten used to handling things on his own, the way he liked it. No way did he want to let anyone in, especially when he had to keep his heart closed. How else would he be able to do his job? “It’s wait and see and minimize her symptoms. The lab’s running on a skeleton staff.”
“Sure, it’s the weekend before Christmas.” She headed toward the lone cashier. “Waiting is the worst.”
“Especially when I want to be able to prepare her family for whichever way this goes.” He plunked his tray down next to hers, a tall stone statue holding everything in.
“That can’t be easy.” She watched a muscle tense along his jawline, the only sign he was human and not granite.
“No,” he clipped out as the cashier’s register beeped. “Some days are worse than others.”
Like today, she thought but didn’t say it. How many days did he spend like this, fearing for other people’s children? The strain showed in the etched lines around his eyes, the furrows in his forehead and the bunched muscles of his jaw.
“I mostly only have to worry about sore throats and earaches and virulent bugs. Maybe stitch up a cut or two.” She reached into her pocket for her credit card, but he beat her to it, handing a card to the cashier.
“It’s more efficient,” he said by way of explanation as the cashier ran it through.
Efficient? She glanced behind them. No one else was in line. There was no need to hurry up, to be efficient, to move on. What did she say to that? “Uh...thanks?”
“Sure. Don’t mention it.” He shrugged like it was no big deal, avoiding eye contact.
Okay. She grabbed her tray and stepped into the dining area. Mostly empty tables stretched out in a cavernous, echoing room. A few interns sat nearby, fortifying themselves with jumbo cups of coffee and camaraderie. Michael kept at her side as they passed the jovial group. So, did this mean he was going to sit with her, or was he going to go his own way? He nodded toward a secluded table in the corner, framed by windows. Okay, apparently they were going to sit together.
“Did your family find the right Christmas tree?” he asked, sliding his tray on the tabletop.
“Meg spotted it, Sara Beth seconded it and Johanna had a decorating scheme figured out before Dad could flag down one of the dudes with a chainsaw.” She set her tray across from his. “It was so big it didn’t fit into the back of Dad’s truck.”
“What did he do?” Michael came over and pulled out her chair for her. Like a gentleman. Or a man who was interested.
Okay, she wasn’t expecting that. She sank down in the chair, deciding not to think about it. Maybe Michael was just being polite. Mannerly. Couldn’t fault him for that. “Dad had an easy solution. He drove home with the top half of the tree flopping in the wind.”
“At least he’s trying to make it a normal Christmas.” He helped her push in her chair.
“Exactly.” She watched him circle around to his chair. “When I left the house, my sisters were decorating the tree. Wait, correct that, they were taking a decorating break that involved sugar and hot chocolate.”
“All part of the season.” He settled in his chair and folded his hands for grace. “Where was your dad?”
“Out in the barn checking on the horses, or so he said. I just think he needed a breather from it all.” She folded her hands, too. “I’m sure he came back smiling and ready to help with the lights. What about your tree?”
“My mother came to the rescue.”
“She does that a lot?”
“Constantly. She shores up the crumbling dam that is my attempt at parenthood.” Dimples bracketed his shy smile. “I’m not that bad of a father, but I’m not that good. Not by myself, anyway.”
“So you’re looking for a Mrs.?” Yikes. Her heart thumped wildly in a blinding moment of panic. Did she look like a wife candidate? No. She had a medical practice to build, a shocking school loan to pay off and no time for a husband, not in the near future. No way. But later? Who knew? “A wife?”
“No wife.” He shook his head, chuckling. “Marriage was disaster enough the first time around. I’m a smart man. I do my best not to make the same mistake twice.”
So relieved to hear it, she thought as the adrenaline kicking through her veins cooled. “I get that. A serious relationship is a slippery slope I’m in no hurry to climb. Do you want me to say the blessing?”
“Go ahead. I’m ready.”
The real challenge was in collecting her thoughts. She still had no reasonable explanation why the man sucked away her common sense like a black hole vacuuming space dust. She wished she wasn’t so acutely aware of him. He took up too much space, he was impossible to ignore with his perfect shoulders and stony profile and it really bothered her how she felt comfortable and uneasy with him at the same time.
She bowed her head, doing her best to concentrate. “Dear Father, thank You for this meal. Please help little Alicia to feel better, save Kelsey’s kidneys and take extra care of all your children tonight. Above all, we ask that You heal every broken heart and hurting soul You can this Christmas season. Amen.”
“Amen,” Michael murmured, a shock of sandy-brown hair tumbling over his forehead. His gaze became a sharp, tangible touch on the side of her face.
What was he thinking? It was impossible to tell. Sometimes there were rocks on this planet more expressive than Michael Kramer.
“I hear you and I have something else in common.” He took a bite of his sandwich.
“Should I be afraid to ask?” She tore open the chip bag.
“Probably. We have Steve to thank.”
“Oh, no. The Christmas food drive.” Realization dawned, along with a little panic. She dug a tortilla chip from the bag. “He recruited me today. He knows I can’t say no to him and he used it against me. He did it to you too, didn’t he?”
“I can’t say no to the man, either. It’s his favorite charitable project all year long, so I know it has to be tough for him to sit this one out. Steve and his wife oversee the project together. Guess you’re taking her place?”
“Apparently, which means we’ll be overseeing it together.” Wow. Just what she needed. To spend more time trying not to like Michael any more than she already did.
“It’s funny how things work out. A few weeks ago, we didn’t know one another.” He tore open a sugar packet and dumped it into his steaming coffee cup. “Now, I can’t seem to ge
t rid of you.”
“I know. Crazy, right?” She crunched into another chip, savoring the wonderful crackle. Nothing crunched in a more satisfying way than a tortilla chip. “It’s kind of weird, isn’t it? I mean, you don’t think Steve and Laura would—”
She hesitated because she couldn’t make herself say the actual words.
“Set us up?” He stirred his coffee and took a sip. “No. Steve wouldn’t do that. He knows what I went through with Diana. And let’s admit it. There are better men for Steve to set you up with.”
“I’m glad you see it, too.” She gently kidded him and why? Because she knew what happened when he smiled. Yep, the dimples. There they were. Amazing.
“Which brings up a good question.” Michael turned in his chair so that he could pin her with his stare. “Why are you still single?”
Chapter Ten
“Wow, how do you want me to answer that?” She quirked one eyebrow at him, cradling her sandwich in both slender hands.
“Did I offend you or something?” It wouldn’t surprise him. “I just wondered what was wrong with the men you went to school with? I’m surprised no one snatched you up.”
“Don’t be.” Mischief glinted as she focused her baby blues on him. “I want to be single. I’ve learned it’s easier that way.”
“Won’t argue there, but you must have done the breaking up. You have heartbreaker written all over you.”
“No way.” She nibbled at her sandwich, studying him over the bread. “And if I do, it’s because I’m focused on my career.”
No, it’s because you’re gorgeous, and he was glad he bit his tongue before he could say it. “Sure. You work as much as I do. It’s tough on a serious relationship.”
“I wouldn’t know. I broke up with my one and only serious boyfriend back in college.” She might think she appeared strong, no scars showing as she reached for a chip, but she would be wrong. “It was senior year, we were both pre-med.”
“Let me guess. You were accepted to different med schools?”
“No, we both got in at the University of Washington. That wasn’t the problem.” She popped a chip in her mouth, chewing, biding time, maybe to figure out how best to answer. “That’s when I learned he and I didn’t see eye to eye.”
“On what, exactly?” Call him curious.
“On what we wanted in life.” Locks of light chestnut tumbled over her face like a curtain, hiding her emotions. She dug in the chip bag as if this conversation was no big deal, as if she was over whatever had hurt her. “We were engaged.”
He couldn’t say why that surprised him. “Wow. Did you have a wedding date set?”
“In August, before med school started.” She reached for her teacup, sweet, calm, in control. Only the slight tremble of her hand betrayed her. “Nick wanted me to postpone my studies, find work and put him through school. When he was done, he’d put me through.”
“And you didn’t go for that?”
“No. He accused me of not loving him enough. That wasn’t true, not at all.” Her gentle alto cracked. Emotion surfaced, but she visibly forced it back with a bob of her chin. “But when I suggested a compromise, he lost his temper and broke up with me.”
“What compromise?”
“That he would be the one to get a job and put me through school first. I mean, shouldn’t he have been willing to do that for me, if I had been willing to do it for him?” Sadness rippled across her face and she shrugged it away. Not over her feelings, after all. “He was so angry. Just furious at me. So that’s how I found out that he was the one who didn’t love me enough.”
“I’m sorry you went through that.” He set down the remains of his sandwich. She had no idea how sorry. He hated to think of her hurting. “You must have been heartbroken.”
“For a long while.” She tried to smile but didn’t fully succeed. “I’m over it. Life goes on, but it was a good lesson to learn. I’ll be careful who I trust my heart and my dreams with next time around.”
“Smart.” He took another slurp of coffee. She could try to minimize her pain, but he read it in her eyes and felt it in his heart. He didn’t want to care so much, he just couldn’t help it. “Did he transfer, or did you end up going through the program with him?”
“Oh, no, I saw him regularly. And it wasn’t easy, believe me, but Mom and our numerous and long phone calls got me through. I don’t know what I would have done without her.” She crunched into another chip. “I followed the right dream, the one that wouldn’t let me down.”
There were so many things he wanted to tell her, like it wasn’t her fault the guy had dumped her. It wasn’t selfish to put her dreams first. If the man had truly loved her, he’d never have walked away or wanted her to put her goals behind his.
But could he open up like that? He didn’t know. He wanted to stay on lockdown because it was better that way so he said the next best thing. “I think life is better when you fill it with more than one dream.”
“Did you actually say that, or did I just imagine it?” Mirth brought out violet-blue flecks in her irises, bright with the power to dazzle. “Isn’t that a little touchy-feely for a man like you?”
“You’re right. I take it back.”
“Well, I sort of like it. Sort of. Not much.” She studied him through her lashes. “But you’re right. You have Macie. You had a marriage. Those are good dreams.”
He knew he should say something, he opened his mouth to do it but no words came and no thoughts materialized. The world around him faded, erasing breath by breath, heartbeat by heartbeat until there was only Chelsea, gently luminous and sweet and smart and—
Don’t go there, Michael. He shook his head, trying to pull out of the whirlpool that was threatening to suck him down. His phone chimed, saving him. He blinked and his surroundings came back into focus.
“Looks like Kelsey’s nephrologist wants to talk test results.” He popped the last bite of sandwich into his mouth. “Want to tag along?”
“Like I could say no to that.” She popped out of her chair and tugged her tray off the table, ready to go. It was what she didn’t say that touched him most—her readiness to help, concern for a sick child and her innate kindness—that got to him.
Don’t fall, he told his heart, but did it listen?
Not a chance.
* * *
“So, not the very worst news.” Kate, Kelsey’s mom, hugged herself around the middle, looking frazzled and exhausted and relieved. “As long as we can stave off the very worst, I’m good.”
“That’s not what I asked.” Chelsea leaned against the wall as a gurney ambled by, pushed by an orderly. “How are you really? I’ve got time. I can run an errand for you. Fetch dinner.”
“No, I can’t eat.” She laid a hand on her stomach. “Although maybe I can in a bit, now that we know Kelsey doesn’t need dialysis yet. Yet. She’s still with us. Praise God for that. My parents are flying in, they should be landing soon, but thank you.”
“I just want to help, remember that, okay?” She liked the woman, who must have been in her early thirties, too. Chelsea thought of the different paths a life could take and wondered what it would be like if she started dreaming other dreams. Not that she was ready for that. “You have my cell, so call if you need it.”
“On Sunday? No, I couldn’t trouble you.” She shook her head, scattering dark hair, her gaze wandering through the doorway and into the room where her daughter lay propped up in bed. “It’s your family time.”
“I’m on call. It’s my job. And I get more than enough time with my family. Too much time, to be honest.”
“You’re just saying that to make me feel better.”
“True, but I’m still going to call you tomorrow and check on you, so be prepared. I don’t go away easily.” She leaned against the doorjamb
, and instead of noticing the adorable child with her arm around a purple bunny, Chelsea’s attention zeroed in straight on the quiet, self-contained man in a blue button-down shirt and jeans, giving up his day off to help this family. He spoke with Kelsey’s dad, answering questions, his voice too low to hear. She couldn’t look away.
“When I first met Michael,” Kate began, lowering her voice and pushing a lock of dark hair out of her pale face, “we’d been referred to him by Steve, Kelsey’s pediatrician. I’d seen Michael in the office once in the hall when we were in an exam room and he walked by, silent and stonelike, and I wasn’t sure he was the right doctor to see us through Kelsey’s treatment. I was wrong.”
“I’m glad he’s here for her.” The little girl nodded to something Michael said to her, squeezing her stuffed bunny a little tighter. The trust in the child’s eyes said everything she needed to know about him as a doctor and as a man.
“He’s a good guy.” Realization twinkled in Kate’s gaze. “You should give him a chance.”
“A chance? You mean, like— No, I’m not interested.” Wait, that wasn’t true. “I don’t want to be interested.”
“Sometimes that’s the way it goes.” Kate stepped into the room.
That’s not the way I want it to go, Chelsea wanted to argue, but what was the point? It was time to concede defeat. Her valiant effort not to care for Michael had failed.
Her cell broke into her thoughts. Johanna’s message marched across the screen. When R U coming home? We’re waiting for U to come so we can put on the balls.
So U got the lights figured out? She tapped in and hit Send.
Yes. Dad took directions very well.
Mom trained him up right, Chelsea quipped, typing away. After she hit Send, she gave Kelsey a finger wave, the parents an encouraging smile and Michael a nod.
“I need to go check on my patient,” she explained. “Thanks for dinner.”
“Thanks for the company.” He paused, as if he wanted to say more, but didn’t. Tall, handsome, kind. It was impossible to turn away, but she did it.