Windy City Romance: Boxed Set: Prequel - Book III

by Barbara Lohr

  The weekend loomed and she told herself she was glad to have a clear schedule. After all, she was on call. No time for dating anyway. But she couldn't ignore the emptiness in her heart. From past experiences, she knew the healing power of time. But she’d really had hopes.

  When Leticia Sloan went into labor Friday night, McKenna was almost relieved. After all, sleep had eluded her. Lake Shore Drive hummed with traffic and bright lights as she drove to the hospital. Every time she came to a stoplight, she looked around. Couples sat in the front seat of almost every car, talking, laughing and sneaking quick kisses. Date night, and everyone seemed to be going somewhere with someone. Gripping the wheel tighter, she tried to push that thought from her mind.

  Really grated on her that she’d been perfectly fine before Logan. She’d had a full life on her own. Now? She’d turned a corner and there would be no going back.

  When she reached the hospital, Leticia had already been admitted and was waiting for her in the birthing suite, husband Tyrone hovering at his wife’s side.

  After a quick check, McKenna could see the young mother was well on her way. “Six centimeters.” And she gave the couple a thumbs up. “Want to get in the pool?”

  Eyes wide, Leticia nodded and her husband helped her ease into the warm water. It was always miraculous to her how a pregnant woman’s entire body seemed to relax into the water birthing process. The music Leticia and Tyrone had chosen was jazzy blues. Tyrone was a sax player, and he'd taped this sequence just for his son.

  The birth went smoothly and two hours later, Abel Sloan came into the world. Hearing the baby wail and seeing his tiny arms flail about, McKenna felt that old tug, only now it seemed stronger than ever.

  And totally out of reach.

  When she put Abel in Leticia’s arms, Tyrone cupped one hand gently over the tight curls on the baby's head. McKenna’s throat swelled at the simple gesture. She hated that she was getting so sentimental. After the proud father cut the cord, McKenna delivered the placenta. One of the pediatric nurses stood nearby, ready to tend to the infant.

  McKenna’s mind went back to Guatemala and the limitations faced by those women. Of course, they knew little of birthing pools and soothing music. In her head, she worked on ways to make their trip even more productive next time. If she kept her mind on Guatemala, she wouldn’t obsess about Logan.

  Although she didn't need any caffeine since she wanted to sleep when she got home, McKenna stopped in the staff lounge. Only the quiet whirling of the air conditioning greeted her. She ambled over to the huge plate glass window. The view was so amazing at this time of night—the tiny lights marking Chicago’s shoreline. In the murky darkness, the lake looked so mighty and mysterious. Then she saw him. Huddled in the corner, Logan sat hunched over the slate he often carried with him. Maybe it was time to face him. She took in a nervous breath when he lifted his head.

  “McKenna! Where have you been?” Flipping the cover over his iPad, he stood and stretched.

  “Did you have a delivery tonight?” She kept a distance between them.

  “C-section.” Scratching his head, he sent her a rueful smile. “I thought of Guatemala the entire time.”

  But obviously he hadn’t thought of her. The past five days, she’d been so preoccupied with him. He couldn’t even call?

  His eyes darkened to coal as he came closer. “You haven't answered my calls.”

  Her hand went to the phone on her hip. “Oh shoot. My phone has been on the blink. Dorothy got me a temporary and I thought all calls had been forwarded.”

  “That explains a lot.” By this time he was close enough to trace a line down her arm.

  But she just couldn’t do this. She wanted to go back to the safety of a life she could control because she didn’t care about anyone. “Logan, I...”

  “What’s wrong?” His brows drew together.

  She began backing away, the new phone a welcome vibration on her waistband. Grateful for any interruption, she peered at the number. “I've got to go.”

  Logan’s brow furrowed. The man was not happy. “McKenna, what’s going on? We are going to have this conversation.”

  “Of course. Fine.” Taking another step back, she nearly fell over the coffee table. “About those words I said that night...”

  He looked stricken and her heart spiraled into her clogs.

  “Of course you know it was just the heat of the moment.”

  “Really?” The frown deepened.

  Enough. Waving her phone, she headed for the door. Her chest felt like it might explode when she burst into the hallway. When the door swished closed behind her, she doubled over, hands on her knees. Felt like the time she’d caught a ball in the stomach playing softball.

  The page had come from the OB floor. In her dazed state, she hadn't completed her care notes. With a sense of relief, she took the steps to the unit and threw herself into documentation. The process cleared her mind.

  Too bad the activity didn’t work on her heart.

  On Saturday morning, she called Amy and asked if she could visit.

  “Absolutely. Gianna changes so much every day. You won’t believe how big she’s gotten. Besides, I was just about to call you. Mallory had to go back to Savannah on business. Feels so lonely without him. Vanessa is up at the lake with Alex and I don’t feel like driving up there.”

  “I’m on my way.”

  Thirty minutes later, McKenna stretched out in a lawn chair under a huge oak tree in Amy’s backyard. On her back in a netted playpen, Gianna swatted at a quilted mirror that reflected her beautiful little face.

  “How was your trip to Guatemala?” Amy asked, handing McKenna a frosty lemonade. “You look tired.”

  “I’m exhausted.” She launched into an animated retelling.

  “Wow, you never realize how lucky you are,” Amy said after McKenna told her about Ana Lena and Pepito.

  “Exactly, but the people are amazing, Amy. So much strength and love in those families. So much endurance.”

  Her friend tipped her head, eyes speculative. “How did it go with Logan on the trip?”

  McKenna stabbed her straw into the ice. “He did great work. I don’t know what we would have done without him, especially for cases like Ana Lena.”

  “That’s not really what I’m asking. How are you and Logan?”

  McKenna lifted her gaze, trying to stop her darn lips from trembling . “Oh, Amy, I’m absolutely miserable. I told him I loved him.”

  Amy’s face lit up. “But that’s wonderful!”

  “No, it’s not. He didn’t say anything.” The emptiness of that moment felt even worse now.

  “Give him time. You always like things tidied up and settled. Men aren’t like that. Sometimes they need time to think things through…especially when it comes to love. Didn’t you say he was married before? That complicates things. Mallory was like that, remember?”

  Looking back to Amy’s exciting trip to Italy with Mallory, who was a stranger to her at the time, McKenna swallowed hard. She’d sure given Amy a lot of advice about how to handle the Savannah gentleman. Mallory’s reticence had just about spoiled everything.

  “But things worked out great for you.” The backyard of the Oak Park home Mallory had purchased to keep Amy close to her family looked so homey. The scent of cut grass filled the air along with the tart smell of the potted geraniums stationed around the patio. “I hate to ask, but when are you going to Savannah?”

  “Soon. Probably in the early fall. Mom and Caitlin are so busy with their new businesses and the work they’re doing with Mallory that they won’t even know I’m gone. You’ll have to visit us. After all, Harper’s down in Savannah.”

  At the mention of her younger sister, McKenna smiled. “That would be great. I miss Harper, and always enjoy Savannah.”

  “Call me with a status report,” Amy joked when McKenna left an hour later.

  “Sure will. But don’t expect too much.” Hugging her friend, McKenna kissed Gianna on t
he forehead. That sweet baby smell stayed with her as she drove down the Eisenhower Expressway toward the lake, along with Amy’s words of caution.

  Chapter 17

  McKenna welcomed the fast pace of the following week. In addition to her clinic, she worked with Jack Frazier on Day in the Life of the LDRP. Showing employees what was coming in the new unit was bound to bring them all on board. Warren believed that informed employees were any institution’s best advertising. McKenna wanted a lot of buzz about the new unit, and she wanted it all to be good.

  At home, she took her frustrations out on her golf swing in her small backyard. McKenna had to be ready for the Foundation fund raiser. No way was she going to make an idiot of herself on the golf course. She’d already done that in a hut in Guatemala.

  “You running a track meet or something?” Selena asked one day when McKenna streaked past her in the office hallway.

  “Still trying to catch up.” She avoided Selena’s gaze.

  “I don't know what happened that night in Guatemala with Logan but get over it. This is so not you.”

  McKenna swallowed hard and edged away. “Late for my interview with a meditation teacher for our natural childbirth class.”

  “Sure you are.”

  She was grabbing at distractions, glad that there were plenty this week. Amanda called with amazing word about Angie. “Connor and I don't know where this in vitro maturation will take us but we’re moving ahead. Meanwhile, Cindy contacted us about a girl in one of your classes. She’s going to set the adoption wheels in motion, if Angie agrees.”

  “Of course Angie will love you, Amanda. I’m thrilled for you.” One way or another, it looked as if Amanda and Connor would finally have a baby.

  “This couldn't happen without you, McKenna. I just can't thank you enough.”

  Amanda’s news set McKenna off on another path. Her mind brimmed with plans. She’d call Harper when the news was final and together they could plan a baby shower. Harper always welcomed any excuse to visit Chicago. Together, the sisters would cook up a terrific event to celebrate Amanda’s impending motherhood.

  While McKenna’s mind worked overtime, the golf outing loomed. She spent the weekend before smacking balls, moving her practice shots to a driving range. The swinging motion loosened her shoulders but couldn’t budge the ache in her heart whenever she thought of Logan.

  “This really sucks,” she told Sasha when she arrived home, hot and sweaty. Grooming herself on the windowsill, her cat ignored her. Vanessa had taken Sasha while McKenna was in Guatemala. Sasha was still ticked about her owner’s absence.

  McKenna’s phone had been repaired so her old number was again operational. Logan called twice, but she sent the call directly to voice mail. Avoiding a problem wasn’t her style. But the baby news had caught her off balance. In so many ways the trip with Logan had been a revelation. Their night together took her to a place she’d never been with any man,.

  And then she’d ruined it. In typical McKenna style, she’d launched onto untested ground instead of taking baby steps. And he’d answered with stunned silence. That was after an announcement that still echoed in her heart. Maybe they both needed some time apart. She dreaded a conversation that might only confirm heartbreak.

  If Logan wasn’t her forever man, she had to move on. Smart women did that. After watching him with the children in Guatemala and hearing his story about his own baby, she had a deeper understanding of his family issues. Could she even envision a future without children? For her, marriage meant family. She’d totally understood Amanda’s pain when pregnancy didn’t happen for her. Babies weren’t an option in the Kirkpatrick clan. They were a necessity.

  ~.~

  The day of the golf outing dawned sunny and warm but without the stifling heat that often came with August days in Chicago. Unfortunately McKenna seemed to have picked up a cold. A cough had kept her awake all night. She tucked some cough drops in her golf bag along with a pack of tissues and some cold pills. Getting dressed was an effort. Her mind said yes but her body was telling her to go back to bed. The new pair of white shorts flattered her figure, and the moss green visor matched her polo shirt. After tying her hair back in a ponytail, she jammed the visor on her aching head, determined to make it through the day. With almost two hundred golfers playing, maybe she wouldn’t run into Logan.

  “McKenna, you look ready for the day,” Warren Mitchell greeted her as she pulled up to the bag drop. A young man hustled to take her clubs and she handed her keys to the valet.

  “As ready as I'm ever going to be,” she answered with a sniffle.

  “You feeling okay?” Warren peered down at her with concern.

  “Just a cold. Not to worry.”

  Usually dressed in a suit, Warren looked cute in khaki shorts and white polo with the Montclair logo on one sleeve. “Logan’s been telling me about the great work you did in Guatemala,” he said, walking with her toward the clubhouse. “He thinks we should do more. In fact, he's gathering a team of specialists to return with him next summer.”

  She blinked. “He is?”

  Eyes twinkling, Warren nodded. “You’ve been good for him, McKenna. Got him more involved in the world.”

  “He was incredible in Guatemala, Warren. Other doctors might not even consider putting in those long hours under far less than perfect conditions.” She thought of the operating room updates he’d wanted so badly for Montclair. Yet, he’d been amazing with basic equipment.

  “The efforts Logan described to me this week are ambitious. I’m behind him one hundred percent. We can talk about that later. See you on the course.”

  McKenna watched the CEO walk away. Turning his surprising news over in her mind, she gathered her information packet and bought a mulligan ticket for a much needed extra shot. Scanning her outing information, she froze, golf shoes suddenly rooted to the carpet.

  Logan was her partner? Putting her materials down, she took out a tissue and blew her nose. Perfect. Just perfect. Straightening her shoulders, she grabbed the packet and marched out to the cart path. Might as well get it over. According to the listing, Cecile Montclair and Priscilla completed their foursome. McKenna looked forward to meeting Logan’s grandmother, but this was going to be a long day.

  “Hi, McKenna.” Priscilla glanced up at her from under a blue visor that matched her eyes. She was arranging her clubs in her bag. “Don’t you look cute?”

  McKenna always wondered who would wear one of those tiny golf skirts. Now she knew. Priscilla Preston’s legs went on forever.

  “Finally I get to meet you, McKenna!” The older woman seated in the other extended a veined hand. "I'm Cecile Montclair."

  Finally? “Good morning, Mrs. Montclair. So pleased to meet you. I have a cold so I hope you don’t mind if I don’t shake your hand.”

  “Of course, dear. How considerate.” In a lilac polo and white capris that showed off a trim body, Logan’s grandmother was a study in aging. The family resemblance felt a bit disconcerting. One glance and McKenna felt like she was looking straight into Logan's piercing eyes.

  “Call me Cecile,” the older woman said crisply. “I've heard so much about you, dear, during our Saturday night dinners. Hope you didn’t mind but the only way I could capture Logan’s full attention was by making a date.”

  McKenna was stunned. This was Logan’s Saturday night commitment?

  Cecile’s glance traveled past McKenna and brightened. “Ah, here he is. Logan, darling.”

  “Good morning, ladies.” Logan gave McKenna a guarded glance. “So you’ve met my grandmother?”

  McKenna nodded. “Yes. We were just chatting.”

  She was relieved when Dennis Heckman took the mic, welcoming them to the outing and taking them through the schedule for the day. “Let’s have a great day in honor of the innovations coming to the Obstetrics Department.”

  A cheer went up. The golfers’ enthusiasm reminded McKenna why she was here, and the turmoil in her chest settled down. As Logan
swung onto their cart, smelling of fresh air and coffee, her pulse speeded.

  “Phone still broken?” Logan asked.

  “Not really. Just busy.” Bending over, she tied her shoes tighter.

  “We’ve got to talk.”

  “Absolutely.” Grabbing the scorecard, she wrote in their names and tucked it back on the steering wheel clip. Then she tugged a tissue from her pack.

  “You okay?” Turning fully, he studied her.

  “Just a cold. Sorry.” Her nose was probably red.

  “Probably shouldn’t be playing.”

  “I’m fine.”

  He didn’t look convinced.

  They pulled up to the starting hole. Jumping out, Priscilla took the first shot. The woman had power and form as she posed on the green. Grabbing her driver, McKenna was up next. Her shot connected and she was more than pleased to see that she’d outdistanced Priscilla.

  “My, oh, my,” Cecile trilled. “Isn’t this going to be an interesting day?”

  The older woman played a measured game, and she was quick to laugh at her own mistakes. Wasn’t hard to like her. Logan clearly adored his grandmother. Even though the silence in their own cart felt uncomfortable, McKenna began to relax. Since they played the best ball in a “scramble,” the pressure wasn’t on her to perform. With Logan, she strived to keep the conversation on work.

  “Warren mentioned that you plan to gather a group of specialists to return to Guatemala next summer.” McKenna hit on a safe subject while they were waiting for Cecile and Priscilla to tee off on the fifth hole. “I guess Guatemala really impressed you?”

  His hands tightened on the steering wheel. “Why would that surprise you after what I told you about my son?”

  “I think it's great, Logan,” she said softly.

  “Pepito did it for me.” His eyes grew distant, as if he were thinking back to the Guatemalan highlands. “Anything we can do to make life better for these children—especially those with special needs, I'm all for it.”

  Admiration surged through her. “A lot of people might talk about helping but not everyone takes action.” She almost added “I’m proud of you,” but that would have been condescending. And it would have sounded very possessive.