Hot-Shot Doc, Secret Dad (Cowboys, Doctors...Daddies)

by Lynne Marshall

  He nodded. His thoughts so deep he seemed to sleepwalk. “I’ll come by tonight and get them.”

  “Okay.” She turned to leave, but remembered something that had seemed so unfair the day it had happened. “Ironically, just so you know, his first word was da-da.”

  Trevor seemed shocked out of his stupor, the first sign of life glinting in his eyes. “You’re putting me on.”

  She shook her head. “He was six months old, woke up all content in his crib. When I came in he was playing with his toes. He lit up when he saw me and said ‘Ah-da-da.’ For the record, it made me cry.” After studying her shoes for a few moments to recover, she looked up.

  Trevor stood still as a statue, watching her. He seemed to be trying to read her entire history, or was he assessing what the hell he should do with his newest employee? “I’ll come by tonight. Get those books.”

  “Okay.” She left and got on with her day.

  The amazing thing was, the minute the clinic opened Dr. Trevor Montgomery acted as if nothing life altering had happened between them. His easy doctor charm returned, and he performed like the perfect mentor for her on her continuing orientation. All business. The man definitely knew how to separate work from personal life.

  That night, at 7:00 p.m. Trevor knocked on her door. She’d had a chance to find the storage boxes with James’s memorabilia and had dug out the first two baby books. Hoping all he’d want was to grab the books and run, she snatched them from the table nearest to the door as she rushed by to answer it.

  Of course he still looked tired—agonized? He’d put in a long day just as she had. “Hi,” she said, pushing the books toward him. “Here you go.”

  Proving to be a man of few words, he took them, looked at them as if they were the Holy Grail. If she could only know what was going through his mind.

  “You can keep them as long as you’d like, but I do want them back.”

  Watching her, like he couldn’t figure out whether to hate or thank her, he nodded. “Thanks.”

  She’d pegged him right. He didn’t stick around, and she was grateful because if he asked the plethora of questions registering in his eyes they’d be up all night.

  The next morning, the instant she hit the hallway in the clinic heading for her office he trailed her. “I need to talk to you.”

  “Okay. Let me put my things away, and I’ll be right there.”

  Instead of letting her go, he followed her into her office, as if what he needed to say couldn’t wait. He still looked tired, had probably been up half the night memorizing her son’s birth, baby and early toddler records. “I’ve got a lot of questions and I need a million answers. Have dinner with me tonight.”

  The man wanted details about her son. Their son. How could she refuse? “Okay.”

  “We’ll leave right after work, unless you have plans?”

  “Works for me.”

  The instant the clinic closed, Trevor was at her office door, waiting. “We’ll take my car.”

  He escorted her outside and as soon as he started the engine, he opened up.

  “I’ve got to tell you, you did a great job recording James’s first months. It was obvious you put a lot of time into those books.”

  “Thanks. I enjoyed it. Every day was something new with him.” Uh-oh, had she said too much, rubbed it in that he wasn’t in the picture to experience any of it? If she had, he let it pass.

  “You mentioned he had surgery at fourteen months.”

  “Yes, he had cryptorchidism.”

  Trevor’s head spun toward her. “Are you kidding? One of my testicles was undescended at birth, too. I had the same surgery when I was one and a half.”

  What were the odds of that? She knew one in thirty healthy baby boys had the condition at birth, but most resolved on their own and didn’t require surgery. Was this Trevor’s DNA speaking through her son? “They asked me if there was any family history, but, of course, I didn’t know.”

  “I’ve got to be honest, I’m blown away about being a father. I—I just don’t know where to start.”

  “I’ll answer anything you ask.”

  “What if I don’t know enough to ask?”

  “I’ll fill in the blanks. I promise.” That sick spot that had taken up residence in her gut since blurting out about James being Trevor’s son seemed to grow exponentially as she realized how many lives the information touched. Hers. Trevor’s. Her son’s. How would James take the news he’d had a father in Wyoming his entire life? Hadn’t that been the foremost question on her mind since she’d told Trevor, knowing the only person left in the dark was her son? Especially after the horrible incident with her ex-boyfriend, Mark?

  How many lives had she managed to screw up by keeping her secret?

  They drove to that café she’d sworn she’d never eat in again. If he was dating that waitress, he wouldn’t take Julie there for dinner, would he?

  What did it matter if he was dating the waitress or not? Julie didn’t have any right to the man. She’d sent his life into a tailspin, and he was simply trying to make sense of it. That was the only reason they were here.

  She picked at her food as Trevor pummeled her with question after question about the pregnancy, the birth, the first few months and the first two years of James’s life. He’d practically memorized her entries in the baby books. He grinned—which was a welcome change from his serious attitude the past two days since being told—when he mentioned specific pictures, both home shots and professionally taken ones. And he teased her about dressing the boy in some silly outfits, insinuating that never would that have flown if he’d been around.

  The implications vibrated through her, making it impossible to eat. But she’d put herself through this torture because Trevor deserved to know everything.

  He wanted to know what James’s first day at school was like. She backed up to tell him a funny story about his first day in preschool, then moved on to kindergarten and grade school. She noticed he hardly touched his meal either.

  By ten o’clock, her voice was nearly hoarse from answering all of his questions, and he finally checked his watch. “Looks like we’re closing down the restaurant. I guess we have to leave.”

  Though she was grateful for his interest, she was relieved that tonight’s hot seat was about to end.

  He drove her back to her car at the clinic. “Can you bring more photo albums for me?”

  “Of course.”

  He reached for her arm. “Thanks.”

  She swore she didn’t pick up on any resentment beyond his sincere thanks, which proved he was a far better person than her. If the tables had been turned, she would have been furious and would have made the withholder’s life miserable.

  She prayed he didn’t have revenge up his sleeve as she got out and headed straight to her car, noticing he waited until she was safely inside, started the engine and backed out of her parking space, before driving off in the other direction. Thank goodness she had the weekend to recover before facing him again.

  *

  The following Friday afternoon at the clinic, almost two weeks from her hire date, Julie put the finishing touch on her personal office with a spider plant in a thick blue ceramic holder practically guaranteed to take care of itself, happy she wouldn’t have to share close quarters with Trevor another day. She’d taken quickly and easily to his clinical practice and was eager to begin working with her own patients, beginning Monday.

  A strong knock at the door made her jump while straightening the frame with her RNP certificate she’d just hung, making it askew again. “Come in.”

  Trevor opened the door and stepped inside her small but functional office, and her pulse shimmied a couple of beats. Shouldn’t she be getting used to him by now? He’d been mysteriously quiet this week, but each time he’d asked, she’d brought more baby books.

  “Not a bad couple of weeks,” he said, working up to a slow smile. “I have to give it to you, you’re a fast study.”

  So t
his visit was all business, and that relieved her no end.

  “Thank you. I kind of got thrown into the fire out in LA. The county had so many patients in need of care, there wasn’t time for a proper orientation. I had to learn to think on my feet, as they say.”

  He stayed where he was, not making a point to sit or give the impression he wanted to chat, but subtle heat in his dark eyes informed her there was more going on than shop talk. “I hope you don’t get bored here. It’s not often we see gunshot or stab wounds or whatever they do out there in LA.”

  She smiled. “I’m glad for that. ER wasn’t my cup of tea.”

  He studied her for an instant as if trying to figure out what her cup of tea might be, before his brows pulled down. “Look. It’s been really weird knowing I’m, you know, a father, and I’m really grateful you’ve shared those baby books with me.”

  “It’s the least I can do.” She was breathy from his chosen topic.

  He scratched the back of his neck, a man obviously trying to deal with an unsettling situation. “I think we should have dinner tonight and talk about what we need to do.”

  What they needed to do? Did that mean he wanted to meet James? “Dinner? Tonight?” She’d hardly gotten used to working with him yet, and last Friday she hadn’t been able to eat a bite with him grilling her about James. How could she sit across from him, staring at his handsome face, and tell him she wasn’t ready for James to meet him?

  She’d been thinking about it, and the kid had so much to adjust to as it was, it wouldn’t be fair to drop this on him out of the blue. As she had with Trevor? Her breath sank to the bottom of her lungs.

  “Do you have plans?” Why did he look surprised that she might? Of course she didn’t, but if he only knew what was going through her head— “I mean, I know this is kind of last minute, but if you have a previous en—”

  “No. No plans.” She spoke before she thought, since the original question had thrown her so much. And since she’d been home she’d yet to contact any of her old high school friends, might have thought about it, but wasn’t even sure she wanted to.

  “Then what do you say? Let’s grab some dinner and talk some more. I know a place where we can have some privacy.”

  What did he have in mind? He looked as uneasy as she felt, but considering their circumstances she’d cut him some slack.

  “Is it too early to eat? I could pick you up later, if you’d like.” Now he seemed downright flustered, which, on the big, otherwise completely competent doctor, was endearing. Maybe it wouldn’t all be about James tonight. Maybe they could get to know each other a little more. She warmed to the idea of sharing a meal with him.

  If he wanted to take her to dinner, then she’d oblige, but only because she owed the guy a lot for hiring her, for taking the news about their son like a man, for being interested in her son…and her? Her hand flew to her ear, where she pressed her thumb and forefinger over the earlobe. “No. Now’s fine. I just need a couple of minutes to finish up here.”

  The relieved look smoothed out his brows, making him all the more appealing. And cinching a tiny knot in her stomach. “Okay, I’ll be in my office when you’re ready.”

  She nodded, then went back to straightening that picture again, flustered and fighting off a sudden ripple of nerves. She could handle the questions about James, but what if this was different? What if he actually wanted to spend time with her? Alone?

  She took her purse into the ladies’ room to pick out her hair—combs and brushes were useless with her curls, just making them frizzy—and to apply some lipstick. She wasn’t sure why she wanted to freshen up for Trevor, so she used the excuse that it had been a long day and she needed a touch-up—that was how she would have explained it for anyone, even Lotte and Rita. Right. She needed to face the fact she wanted to look nice for him. There, she’d admitted it.

  A few minutes later, feeling somewhat refreshed and having calmed down a shade, she peeked around his office door. “Ready.” But glimpsing the big man at his desk, with his broad shoulders and excellent hair, no longer looking tired and confused, she knew all of her settling down had been for naught.

  He glanced up from reading a medical journal, did a quick double take with warm eyes, as if she’d changed into lingerie or something, and hit her with that appealing slow smile of his. “Let’s go, then.”

  Maybe she’d put too much lipstick on, and did she really need to use mascara? What was she trying to accomplish anyway?

  More importantly, why did Trevor Montgomery automatically make her slide right into second-guessing everything? She needed to convince herself that theirs was nothing but a professional relationship and deal with it, pronto.

  She waited by his door, feeling a bit fluttery when he passed, and then followed him down the hall.

  The office was closed and both Rita and Charlotte had already left. Being there alone with him felt too intimate, so she stood back, keeping her distance. Trevor shut down the lights and activated the alarm system, then closed and locked the back door. A take-charge guy with fine narrow hips and sexy boots. Oh, man, her plan to remain detached fell apart before they’d even left the building.

  The night air was frigid and woke Julie out of the last of her long, hard day sluggishness. Being with Trevor had jump-started the task. She looked upward, while Trevor finished up locking and securing the building, remembering how many more stars there seemed to be in the sky back home. If she was lucky out in LA she’d see the Big Dipper and Orion’s belt. Most nights she could locate Venus, but that was about the extent of stargazing out there. She shook her head, enjoying the infinite vision. Remembering a little more about the hometown she’d left behind thirteen years ago.

  “You ready?” he asked, watching her with clear interest, then glancing upward toward the sky himself.

  “Sure.”

  “Beautiful, isn’t it?”

  “Absolutely.” She inhaled and let the sight and the breath ease the remainder of her misgivings about sharing a meal with the father of her son. His demeanor was different tonight from last Friday night. He seemed relaxed, as though he’d worked through some of his feelings about being a dad. He’d obviously changed tack. Tonight he seemed to want to focus on Julie.

  “Would you prefer to take two cars or do you want to go in mine?”

  She hadn’t gotten that far in her thoughts, but he made a good point. Since he was offering to give her some space… “Oh, uh, why don’t I follow you?”

  “You know, I’ve got a better idea. The place I have in mind isn’t far from your parents’ house. How about I follow you over there so you can drop off your car first?”

  The topic of conversation tonight would be anyone’s guess. Maybe about James. Maybe not. She couldn’t get a handle on anything with Trevor right now, and, since slow, steady breathing could only accomplish so much with the nerves, she might have a glass of wine to relax, so letting him drive sounded reasonable. “That works for me.”

  The easing of tension around his eyes let her know he liked her decision. She had to give it to him: the guy was trying, not running away from reality. “Let’s go, then.”

  The fifteen-minute drive to Dusty Road Lane and the sturdy log cabin–styled house Julie had grown up in, and now owned, gave her time to organize her thoughts. She’d decided to share anything and everything else the man asked about James, but he’d have to do the asking. Yeah, that clinched it: she’d definitely need a glass of wine with dinner.

  She didn’t bother to go inside the house or to turn on the porch lights, she just parked her car in the garage and hustled back to Trevor’s waiting silver hybrid SUV. Like a gentleman, he saw her coming and hopped out of the car, then beat her to the passenger door and opened it.

  “Thanks,” she said, wondering if it was the clean evening air or his cologne that tickled her nose. He’d definitely freshened up, too. The complimentary thought made her disguise a smile and a small swell of pride.

  The classy leather
upholstery felt cold on the backs of her knees as she slid inside the car. He’d left the radio on and George Strait sang a twangy, sweet love song that took her right back to her youth, and growing up in Wyoming. Not many people listened to country music in LA, and she’d gotten out of the habit over the years, but it felt good, welcoming even, to hear those clear and simple words and music. And it helped settle her sudden building nerves over facing Trevor at dinner.

  He drove off without wasting a moment.

  “So where are we going? Will I know the place?”

  “Don’t think so. Was Rustler’s Hideaway around when you lived here?” He drove single-handed, not afraid to look at her while on the road, like a man with all the confidence in the world behind the wheel.

  She’d never heard of it, but for the sake of not letting the conversation die she answered. “I don’t remember the name. Sounds like a grown-up place.” She laughed lightly, feeling a bit absurd, but realizing all she remembered from her hometown was being a kid and a teenager. If it wasn’t a burger joint, an ice-cream parlor, or the old bowling-alley café, she’d probably never been there.

  “You’ve got that right. They serve the best steaks in this part of Wyoming.” He angled his gaze at her. “I know because my father sells our corn-fed cattle directly to them.”

  She’d given up steak when she’d moved to California thirteen years ago, not out of any kind of vegetarian decision, but because she hadn’t been able to afford decent meat on a college student’s scholarship stipend and part-time bookstore clerk’s income. After so many years, she wondered if her body would remember how to digest meat, especially coupled with James most likely being the topic of dinner conversation.

  She thought about asking how business was going for the Montgomerys, but worried how Trevor would interpret the question. She wasn’t looking for a handout, but if the man was interested in helping with the costs of military school, she sure wouldn’t turn him down. Knotting the fingers on her lap, she decided to drop the insecurity about how she might come off and be up-front with him for James’s sake.

  On second thought, no. That didn’t sit well. It wasn’t her style. Trevor had given her a job, and that was all she’d hoped for. Oh, man, she’d been all wrapped up in her thoughts, the car had gone quiet except for the radio, and all because she couldn’t quit overthinking every little detail.