by Irene Hannon
When a brief knock interrupted her reading a few minutes later, she jerked involuntarily, then glanced up with a troubled gaze as the door swung open.
Eric stopped abruptly on the threshold as he stared at the woman whose face had been indelibly etched into his mind on that cold, tragic evening five years before. It was a night memorable in many ways—none of them pleasant. It had begun with the terrible accident, and had ended with his wife’s announcement that she wanted a divorce. For years he’d tried to put the events of that dismal evening behind him. But the one thing he’d never been able to forget was this woman’s stunning face and the desperate love he’d seen reflected in her expressive eyes.
Her face was still stunning, he noted. But her beauty was tempered now with worry and fatigue, the fine lines at the corners of her eyes and the dark smudges beneath them giving mute testimony to a life filled with unrelenting strain. Nor had her eyes lost their expressiveness—except that now they reflected disillusion and sadness instead of the love he remembered from that fateful night. Whatever burden she had carried for the past five years had clearly taken a tremendous toll on her, he concluded. She looked fragile. And achingly vulnerable. And very much alone. She seemed like a woman desperately in need of a shoulder to cry on or just a comforting hand to hold, he reflected, surprised—and disconcerted—by the unexpected surge of protectiveness that coursed through him.
Kate returned the doctor’s stare, held by his compelling eyes. His gaze wasn’t invasive or unfriendly—more like…unsettling. As if he knew something she didn’t. Which was odd. They’d never met before, had they? she wondered, frowning slightly. Yet there was something familiar about him. But surely she would remember hair the color of sun-ripened wheat and eyes so intensely blue. Perhaps he just reminded her of someone from her past.
Eric realized that she didn’t recognize him. Which wasn’t surprising, in light of their traumatic “meeting”—if it could even be called that. And maybe it was just as well, considering his odd reaction on seeing her again. She drew him in a strangely powerful, inexplicable way; and that scared him. His divorce from Cindy four and half years before had taught him very clearly that marriage and medicine didn’t mix. Since then he’d steered clear of serious relationships. It was a rule he’d never broken. And he wasn’t going to start now—with any woman. So, with an effort, he put his professional smile in place and held out his hand.
“Mrs. Nolan? I’m Eric Carlson.”
Kate found her fingers engulfed in a firm grip that somehow felt both capable and caring. “Hello, Doctor.”
“And this must be Sarah.” He squatted down beside the wary little girl, who was watching him solemnly, her eyes wide, as she clung to her mother. “Hello, Sarah. I’m Dr. Eric.” When she didn’t respond, he tried again. “You know, I have something in my office you might like to see when we’re all finished. A big tank full of beautiful fish. What’s your favorite color?”
“Pink.”
“Well, I have a pink fish that has a bright blue tail. Would you like to see it later?”
Sarah studied him silently for a moment. “Are you going to give me a shot?”
Eric chuckled and glanced at Kate. “Nothing like cutting to the chase, is there?” Then he transferred his attention back to Sarah and shook his head. “Nope. No shots today. I promise. So how about letting me look in your ears and peek at your tonsils? And I’ll let you listen to my heart if you let me listen to yours.”
Sarah tipped her head and studied him for a moment before loosening her grip on Kate. “Okay.”
“That’s a girl.” Eric reached over and picked her up, then settled her on the end of the table. From that point on, the exam proceeded smoothly. Eric even managed to elicit a giggle or two.
Kate watched in amazement, and her respect for Eric grew exponentially from minute to minute. He had a knack for putting children at ease, for making an exam fun, and she suspected that even on those occasions when he did have to give shots, he drew little protest from his patients. He had certainly befriended Sarah, Kate conceded. Her usually shy, reserved little girl was completely relaxed.
As he worked, Eric casually asked Kate a few astute, specific questions, never shifting his focus from Sarah. When he finished, he straightened and smiled down at his patient. “Now, that wasn’t so bad, was it?”
Sarah shook her head. “It didn’t hurt at all. I like you. He’s nice, isn’t he, Mommy?” she declared, looking over at Kate.
Kate cast an admiring glance at Eric. “Yes, honey, he sure is.”
Eric felt his neck grow red at Kate’s praise. Which was both odd and extremely unsettling. He never lost his cool with patients—or their mommies. To buy himself a moment to regain his composure, he lifted Sarah to the floor, then bent down to retrieve a wayward cotton ball.
Kate didn’t know exactly what triggered the sudden flash of memory. Maybe it was Eric’s motion of leaning so close to her, or the position of his body in conjunction with hers, or the way the overhead lighting suddenly drew out the burnished gold in his hair. But abruptly and with startling clarity she recalled another time, five years before, when this man had leaned over in exactly the same way as he’d worked on her critically injured husband in an icy wrecked car.
Her sudden gasp of recognition made Eric quickly straighten, and as their gazes met he realized that the odd link they shared was no longer a mystery to her. Her face had gone a shade paler, and he noted the sudden trembling of her fingers as her hand went to her throat.
Eric forced his gaze from hers and smiled at Sarah. “Are you ready to see that pink fish now?”
Oblivious to the sudden undertones in the room, the little girl nodded eagerly and turned to Kate. “It’s all right, isn’t it, Mommy?”
Somehow Kate found her voice. “Yes.”
Eric took Sarah’s hand and looked over at Kate discerningly. “I’ll be back in a moment. Will you be okay?”
She nodded mutely, still trying to process the bizarre coincidence of today’s encounter. When her own pediatrician had retired a few weeks ago, she’d simply selected the most conveniently located replacement from the list he’d provided. Eric Carlson—the man who’d saved Jack’s life.
Kate had always meant to find out the name of the doctor who had stopped that night to help, intending to write him a heartfelt letter of thanks. But as the months had gone by she’d been so overwhelmed by all the other demands in her life that she had never followed through. And especially in light of the outcome, which had left her in a deep depression for almost a year. It had been all she could do after that, simply to cope. There were days even now when that was all she did—cope. But that was no excuse. This man deserved better from her, and the guilt had nagged at her for years.
Eric slipped back into the room then and shut the door before taking a seat across from Kate.
“I left Sarah in my office with one of my assistants. She’ll keep her occupied until we’re finished.”
“You were the doctor at the accident, weren’t you?” Kate said without preamble.
Eric seemed momentarily taken aback by her abrupt words, then he slowly nodded. “Yes. I recognized you the minute I came in the door.”
“I never thanked you. I meant to.”
He shrugged. “No thanks were necessary. I’m a doctor. That’s my job.”
She shook her head vehemently. “No. You didn’t even have to stop, especially considering the weather. I don’t remember much about that night. I had a slight concussion, and everything has always been a blur. But they told me you saved Jack’s life. I always intended to find out your name and let you know I appreciated what you did.”
He made a dismissive gesture. “I just opened an airway. It was enough to give him a fighting chance until he got to the hospital.” He glanced briefly at her left hand, noted the ring, then proceeded carefully. “Your husband seemed to be badly hurt, Mrs. Nolan.”
She swallowed and gave a brief nod of confirmation. “Yes. Two v
ertebrae in his neck were crushed and he had severe head injuries. At first they weren’t sure if he’d even make it through the night. He was in a coma and I just lived hour by hour. But he held on somehow. And with every day that passed I grew more hopeful, despite the fact that the doctors didn’t offer much encouragement. They said even if he came out of the coma, he would be paralyzed. That he’d never be the way he was before. But I was sure they were wrong. I had great faith in those days.” There was an unmistakable trace of bitterness in her voice, but it was replaced by bleakness when she continued. “We never had a chance to find out, though. He died seven months later without ever regaining consciousness.”
It was what Eric had feared. The desolate look in Kate’s eyes, the slump of her shoulders, the catch in her voice, made his heart ache. “I’m sorry,” he said helplessly, wishing he could take away her pain, offer some words of comfort. But he’d been through this before with other survivors, and he knew words did little to ease the burden of grief or the devastating sense of emptiness and loss that accompanied the death of a loved one. There was no way to make the absolute finality of that parting any less painful.
She blinked rapidly, and he saw the sheen of tears in her eyes. “Thank you. You’d think after four years I’d be able to handle it better than this, but…well, Jack and Sarah were my whole world. Sarah was only six weeks old when it happened, and we had so many plans, so much to look forward to….” Her voice trailed off and she sniffed, struggling for composure. At last she drew a shaky breath, and when she spoke her voice was choked and barely audible. “Everyone said I’d get over it. That life would go on and in time I’d feel back to normal. But you know, I don’t think you ever get over it. You just get on with it.”
Eric felt his throat tighten at the abject misery in Kate’s eyes. “It takes a lot of courage just to do that,” he told her gently, his own voice uneven.
She gave him a sad smile and shook her head. “It’s kind of you to say that, Doctor. But it doesn’t take courage to simply do what you have to do. Sarah needs me. Period. And I love her with all my heart. That’s why these mysterious stomach pains have me so worried.”
Eric couldn’t change the tragedy that had brought Kate more than her share of heartache, but at least he could set her mind at ease about Sarah.
“Well, I don’t think you need to worry, Mrs. Nolan. I can’t find a thing wrong. She seems like a very healthy little girl.”
“Then what’s the problem?”
He toyed with his pencil for a moment, his face pensive. “Has there been any sort of trauma in her life recently?”
Kate nodded slowly as fresh tears sprang to her eyes. “Yes. My…my mother died very suddenly a month ago. She and Sarah were very close. We all were, actually. Sort of like The Three Musketeers.”
Her voice quavered, and Eric’s heart went out to her. She’d had so much loss. It didn’t seem fair. He longed to ease her pain, but knew there was nothing he could do. Except listen.
Kate took a deep, shaky breath. “Anyway, Mom lived with us and watched Sarah for me during the school year while I was teaching. I had to find other day care for Sarah at the last minute, and she started a couple of weeks ago, right before I went back to school. It’s been a big adjustment for her. For both of us, actually. You see, I always wanted to be home until she went to school. Jack and I had agreed on that. But of course things changed when he died. Having Mom watch her was the next best thing. Now… Well, I hate leaving her with strangers. Sarah is shy, and I’m afraid she may not be mixing well with the other children.” Kate bit her lip, clearly distraught.
“You know, it sounds to me like her pains may be emotionally rather than physically triggered,” Eric observed. “Coping with the loss of her grandmother was probably hard enough. Coupled with being thrust into a traditional day-care situation—well, it’s a big adjustment. Are there any other options?”
Kate frowned and shook her head, her eyes deeply troubled. “This was the best I could do at the last minute. Most of the really good places are booked solid and have waiting lists a mile long.” She dropped her head into her hands and drew a shuddering breath. “This isn’t at all what I wanted for Sarah!”
Eric’s throat tightened. For a brief moment he was overcome by a powerful urge to reach over and take her hand, to give her the reassurance of a caring touch that she seemed to need so desperately. He knew that she was stressed to the limit, torn between want and necessity. At this point he was actually more worried about her physical and emotional state than he was about Sarah’s. Children had a way of adjusting. And Sarah had the security of Kate’s love. But Kate was alone, with no one to share her burdens. Though his heart told him to reach out to her, in the end professional decorum prevailed and he refrained—with great effort.
“You’re doing the best you can, Mrs. Nolan, under very difficult circumstances,” he reassured her gently, his voice unusually husky. “Don’t be too hard on yourself.”
Kate looked into his eyes, and she felt strangely comforted by the kindness and compassion she saw there. She was trying to do her best, and it lifted her spirits ever-so-slightly to have someone recognize that.
“Thank you. But it’s obviously not good enough. I want what’s best for Sarah, Doctor. There has to be a better solution than this.” She sighed and wearily ran her fingers through her shoulder-length hair. “I guess I’ll just have to keep looking.”
Eric stared at her bowed head, his face growing thoughtful as an idea suddenly took shape his mind. If he could pull it off, several problems would be solved, he realized. Sarah would have a more personal day-care situation. Kate’s guilt would be eased. And Eric’s mind would be relieved of a constant worry. It was a long shot, of course. And he didn’t want to raise any expectations until he had a commitment. But it just might work.
“I’m sure you’ll find the answer, Mrs. Nolan. And in the meantime, remember that children are more resilient than we think. You’re clearly a caring, conscientious parent, and children know intuitively when they’re loved. That makes a huge difference.”
Kate looked at Eric, essentially a stranger to her despite their brief, traumatic encounter five years before. Yet he seemed to know exactly the right thing to say to relieve her mind. Maybe it was a knack he had with all worried mothers. But the caring in his eyes seemed genuine—and somehow personal. Which was silly, of course. She was just another case to him. But she appreciated his kindness nonetheless.
“You have a great bedside manner, Doctor. Even if I’m not the patient,” she told him with a tremulous smile. “I feel much better.”
He returned the smile, and she liked the way his eyes crinkled at the corners. “I’m glad. And let me know if Sarah is still having problems in a week or so. But I think she’ll adjust, given time.”
“I just wish there was another option,” Kate said with a sigh.
Eric didn’t comment as he stood and ushered her to the door. But he had a plan. And if everything went as he hoped, Kate’s wish just might come true.
Anna Carlson’s hand froze, the glass of orange juice halfway to her mouth, as she stared at her son over the plate of scrambled eggs.
“You want me to do what?”
Eric had known it wasn’t going to be an easy sell. Ever since his father had died six months before, his mother had shut herself off from the world, struggling not only with grief over the passing of her lifelong companion but also with a sense of uselessness. A nurturer by disposition, she had found her meaning in life by caring for the men she loved—Eric when he was younger, and in recent years her husband, as failing health made him increasingly dependent. In fact, their already strong mutual devotion had seemed to intensify as Walter’s physical condition weakened.
While some women would resent the demands of living with an ill spouse, Anna had never complained. As she’d told her son on more than one occasion, “Walter took care of us for a lot of years, Eric. He worked three jobs at once when you were a baby just to m
ake ends meet. Nothing was too much trouble if it made life easier for the people he loved. How can I do any less now, when he needs me?”
Now, with his father gone and the demands of his practice keeping him too busy to give his mother as much time as he’d like, she was adrift. The inspired idea he’d had in the office a couple of days before had seemed like the perfect solution for everyone. His mother needed someone to take care of. Sarah needed someone to do just that. Kate needed the peace of mind that a good caregiver would provide. And he wanted to help his mother find new purpose in life. It was an ideal arrangement.
But from the way she was staring at him, one would think he’d suggested she take up skydiving.
“I’d like you to consider watching one of my patients five days a week during school hours while her mother teaches,” he repeated evenly.
His mother set her glass down and continued to stare at him. “Why on earth would I what to do that?”
Eric mulled over his response while the server poured him a fresh cup of coffee and decided on the direct approach.
“She needs help, Mom.”
Anna frowned at him. “Who? The mother or the little girl?”
“Both.”
Even if she wasn’t exactly receptive, he’d at least aroused her curiosity, Eric thought. His mother hadn’t looked this interested in anything since before his father had died. Their after-church Sunday-morning breakfasts had become a ritual during the last six months. It was a time he reserved exclusively for her, but usually she was subdued and barely picked at her food. Today he’d managed to snap her out of her apathy, if only for a few moments.
In fact, as she studied him now, he began to grow slightly uncomfortable. He knew that look. It was one he remembered well from his growing-up years, when she was trying to figure out what was going on in his mind, what his motivation was. Her next question confirmed it.
“Eric, in all the years you’ve been a doctor, I’ve never seen you take such a personal interest in a patient. Is there something you’re not telling me about this situation?”