The Surgeon's Christmas Baby

by Marin Thomas

  “Well, for a guy who doesn’t like the sport, he’s sure stuck with it long enough.”

  “Maybe you’ll get the chance to see him ride next year,” Alonso said.

  Cruz remained silent, his gaze focused on the boys. Alonso got the feeling Vic’s rodeo career was a touchy subject for Cruz. “I should have been there that night.”

  Cruz’s gaze swung to Alonso. “I don’t even remember why you weren’t with us.”

  “I was in the emergency room with my sister. My mom was working and Lea had a bad asthma attack.”

  “How are your sisters these days?”

  “Lea’s married with kids. Carla’s divorced.” Cruz grew quiet again and Alonso decided they’d talked enough about the past. “I was hoping to speak to Maria before I leave.”

  “She’s in the main house.”

  “Is Riley here?”

  “Out of town on business.”

  “When the boys finish, will you send Luke up to the house?”

  “Sure.”

  Alonso offered his hand. “Take care, Cruz. It was good seeing you again.”

  “I hope things work out for you, Hannah and the baby.”

  Alonso wanted that, too, he just wasn’t sure how to make it happen. He walked to the house, then rang the bell. No one answered, so he tried the knob and the door swung open. “Maria?”

  “In the kitchen!”

  He wandered down a hallway that led to the kitchen at the back of the house.

  “Alonso!” Maria popped off the bar stool and gave him a hug. “I didn’t expect you for another hour.” Holding him at arm’s length, she studied his face. “What’s the matter?”

  “Everything.” The word slipped from his mouth before he could stop it.

  “I made a fresh pot of coffee a few minutes ago. Sit down.” She grabbed a mug from the cupboard and filled it with brew. “Are you hungry?” She didn’t wait for him to answer before she set a plate of sweets in front of him.

  He helped himself to a sugar cookie. “These are good, thanks.”

  “José made them. We’re fortunate to have him cooking for the boys. They don’t mind doing the dishes afterward because they want to eat whatever José made for dessert.”

  Alonso was content to let Maria chatter. She had a way of making people feel good and he could use a shot of self-esteem right now.

  “I was just telling a friend of mine from the old neighborhood what a remarkable surgeon you are.”

  “I don’t think I ever thanked you properly for pushing me toward college and med school.”

  “You always had it in you, Alonso. I just believed in you until you started believing in yourself.”

  Believe in yourself. He thought back to those days when he feared he wouldn’t pass all his classes in college then later in med school. Maria had always been there, never allowing him to give up. And she’d been right—once he’d acknowledged that he was good enough to succeed at whatever he put his mind to, he’d never looked back.

  So what the hell had happened to his confidence? How had he allowed himself to nurture such a dismal, dank outlook on life? Not even when he was a boy growing up in poverty had he believed the world was a hopeless place.

  “Hannah told you the news, didn’t she?” Maria said.

  He nodded.

  She squeezed his hand. “And you don’t believe you’re ready to be a father.”

  “Yes. No.” He shook his head. “It’s complicated.” If things were different—if he was different, he’d be excited about becoming a dad, but the idea of bringing a tiny human into such a crappy world scared him to death. Who in their right mind wanted the lifelong responsibility of keeping another human being safe and healthy when so much of what happened in the world was out of a person’s control?

  “When are you and Hannah getting married?”

  “We’re not.” He winced at the look of disappointment in Maria’s eyes.

  “You don’t love Hannah?”

  Until now, Alonso hadn’t allowed himself the luxury of analyzing his feelings for Hannah. He liked her. He admired her and he was attracted to her. He couldn’t let his thoughts and feelings go beyond that, because he feared Hannah had the power to make him take a leap of faith and give the world a second chance. And he knew that second chances never worked out. He’d saved his buddies in the Army that fateful day, but their second chance had only lasted hours before it had been stolen from them.

  “I won’t let myself fall in love with Hannah.” At Maria’s surprised look he added, “The world sucks. I’ve witnessed too many horrors to believe in happy-ever-afters.”

  “Where did this pessimistic attitude come from?” She’d badger him until he spilled his guts.

  “I think it’s been in me my whole life. I just didn’t realize it until I was in the Army. Growing up in the barrio I saw things most kids never see in their entire lives. I thought when I enrolled in college and then med school, I’d escape the doom and gloom of my past, but I didn’t.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “I experienced some pretty rough stuff in Afghanistan. That’s why I left the military early. I thought being back in the States and working in an ER would renew my faith in humanity, but it didn’t. Every day at the hospital I see bad things happen to good people—people who are doing what they’re supposed to do in life. When good people get killed by drunk drivers or shot standing at bus stops, you start thinking it doesn’t matter that you’re doing the right thing...the bad always wins over the good in the end.”

  He shoved a hand through his hair. “I took a leave from the hospital because there was no point in doing my job anymore. I was saving teenagers who went right back out on the streets and got themselves shot up again a week later.”

  Tears welled in Maria’s eyes. Hell, he hadn’t meant to make her cry. He gave her a hug. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be such a downer.”

  “There are other things a man with a college degree can do.” She sniffed.

  “I’m good at saving people—it’s just too bad the world is better at taking them away.”

  “It’s not like you to turn your back on someone who needs you, Alonso.”

  “I’m not deserting Hannah. I intend to give her financial support and I’ll be there to help out if she needs me.” He’d help Hannah as long as he maintained an emotional distance from her. He couldn’t afford to lose his heart to her and their child. God help him then if anything horrible happened to them.

  “Forget about child-support payments,” Maria said. “You never knew your father. Don’t you want better for your son or daughter?”

  “It’s not as if I’m never going to see them.” Even as he said the words, he knew they were a lie. He’d only visit Hannah and the baby if she reached out to him, and Hannah was a stubborn, strong woman—she wouldn’t need him very often.

  “I bet you’ll feel differently once you hold the baby in your arms.” Maria’s cell phone rang and she glanced at the number. “Let me take this call. I’ll be right back.” As soon as she left the room, Alonso made a dash for the door.

  He felt as if he’d gone ten rounds with Maria and she’d barely said a few sentences to him. When he stepped outside, he waved at Luke to meet him at the pickup. The kid talked the entire drive back to the ranch, but Alonso was battling his conscience and barely heard a word.

  * * *

  “HEY, RAMBO, I’M HOME!” Luke raced into the living room, where Hannah was taking down the tree decorations. He dropped to his hands and knees on the floor and the puppy raced toward him, his big paws sliding on the wood.

  Rambo was supposed to have been Hannah’s dog, but the puppy had latched on to Luke, and the two were becoming best friends.

  “Was it tough for Michael to go back to the ranch?” she
asked.

  “No. He likes it there.”

  “Good.” She sent up a silent prayer of thanks that Maria and Riley Fitzgerald had put her brother on the right path.

  Luke lifted Rambo up to his face and nuzzled the dog’s nose. “You wanna go for a ride in the truck?” Rambo’s little tail wagged. “He’s smart, Hannah. He knows what going for a ride means.”

  “Why don’t you grab a snack before you check on the bison?”

  “I will.” He got to his feet. “C’mon, Rambo.” Luke skidded to a stop when Alonso appeared with his army bag slung over his shoulder. “Are you leaving?”

  Alonso nodded. “It’s time for me to hit the road again.”

  “But winter break isn’t over yet.”

  “I have to be back at the hospital by January second.” He had three days to make it to Albuquerque.

  “I thought you were leaving tomorrow,” Hannah said. She hadn’t prepared herself for their goodbye.

  Alonso shrugged. “There’s still a few hours of daylight.”

  Luke’s gaze swiveled between Hannah and Alonso. “But I thought you guys...you know...liked each other.”

  “We do,” Hannah said, forcing a smile. “But Alonso’s real job is saving people, not feeding bison.” Alonso’s gaze met hers, and in the brief instant before he looked away she saw yearning—the same longing she’d buried deep inside her.

  “It kind of sucks.” Luke smiled sheepishly. “I got used to you being here.”

  Me, too. Each night when Hannah drifted off to sleep, she imagined her, Alonso and the baby becoming a real family. Then she’d wake in the morning and realize it would never happen.

  Luke offered Alonso his hand. “Thank you for everything.”

  “I’m glad things worked out for you, Luke. Do well in school and don’t give your sister any grief.”

  “I won’t. Michael’s gonna come visit over my spring break. Maria said she’d drive him up here.”

  “Good. I’m sure your sister will appreciate the extra help with chores.”

  “Wait until Michael sees Rambo. He’ll be huge by then.” Luke stepped past Alonso. “Come back and visit us.”

  Hannah waited until the back door closed before she spoke. “After all the repairs you did, we should be in good shape for a while.”

  “Albuquerque isn’t that far. If you need help, call me and I’ll drive down.” His stare pierced her. “I mean it.” He removed a business card from his pants pocket and handed it to her. “That’s the chief of staff’s number. If you can’t get hold of me, he’ll make sure I get a message from you.”

  Hannah set the card on the coffee table. “If you wait until tomorrow, I can drive you back to Albuquerque.”

  His mouth curved in a half grin. “I made it this far hitching rides—I might as well return the same way.”

  “Let me at least give you a lift to the highway.” She swept past him, and walked into the kitchen. Luke had left the keys to the Civic on the counter and she grabbed them on her way out the door. She didn’t look over her shoulder for fear she’d cry if she made eye contact with him.

  Alonso stowed his duffel in the backseat and they drove in silence. When Hannah reached the highway, she shifted into Park. They both stared out the windshield, neither saying a word.

  This is what you want.

  Not want. This was what had to be. Maybe if she told herself that enough times she’d believe it.

  Alonso reached for the door handle. “Call if you need me. For anything.”

  She wanted to shout that she needed him for everything. “Okay,” she whispered, battling tears. Damn it. She could do this alone. She’d taken care of herself and Luke for years before her father and Ruth had passed away. There was no doubt in her mind that she could take care of this baby by herself—it was just that she didn’t want to do it alone. She wanted Alonso by her side, raising their child together.

  He got out of the car and removed his duffel, then stuck his head back through the open passenger window. Their eyes connected and Hannah’s breath caught at the sheen of moisture making his brown eyes sparkle. You love me, Alonso. I know you do.

  “Be well, Hannah.” He walked off before she found the courage to beg him to stay.

  She kept her foot on the brake as she watched him stroll down the road. Not until he became a speck on the horizon did she put the car into Reverse and return to the house.

  Only then did she realize Alonso had never looked back.

  * * *

  KEEP WALKING. DON’T STOP.

  The urge to check over his shoulder to see if Hannah was still sitting in the car was more powerful than the rage he’d felt when his buddies had died in Afghanistan.

  This is what you wanted.

  The hell it was. He wanted to be with Hannah. He just couldn’t, that was all. A horn honked and he jumped sideways, thinking he’d wandered onto the road. A blue Ford pulled onto the shoulder ahead of him. Doc Snyder. The old man lowered his window when Alonso approached. “Where are you headed?”

  “Making my way back to Albuquerque.”

  The doctor eyed him suspiciously. “Why didn’t Hannah give you a ride?”

  “I needed time to think.”

  “About what?”

  He didn’t care for people poking their nose into his business. “Do me a favor and check on Hannah every now and then.”

  “Might have a problem with that.”

  “Why?”

  “I put off that hip replacement I was supposed to have after Thanksgiving. I’m scheduled for surgery in three days. I’ll be out of commission at least a month.”

  “Who’s filling in for you at the clinic?”

  “A doctor friend from Gallup. But he can only visit the clinic one day a week.” Doc narrowed his eyes. “You wouldn’t by chance know a doctor who’d be willing to help out my friend?”

  The temptation to stay near Hannah was powerful, but if he didn’t return to the hospital he could kiss his job goodbye. An image of Hannah large with child—his child—flashed before his eyes. He couldn’t do it. Couldn’t walk away from her and the baby. He didn’t know what the hell that meant for his career or for him and Hannah. All he knew was that he couldn’t leave.

  “I’ll take over the clinic while you recover from surgery.”

  “Hop in.”

  As soon as Alonso got into the cab and snapped his belt on, Doc peeled away from the side of the road. “There’s a cot in the back room you can sleep on, unless you plan to drive back to Hannah’s ranch every night.”

  “I’ll take the cot.” He’d just as soon Hannah didn’t know he’d changed his mind about Albuquerque. Not yet. Not until he had an answer for her when she asked why he’d stayed.

  “I’ll introduce you to my regular patients who come in once a week for blood-pressure checks and prescription refills. Then I’ll fill you in on the house calls you’ll have to make while I’m out.”

  “I don’t have a vehicle.”

  “You can use Bertha.”

  “Pardon?”

  Doc patted the dashboard. “This here is Bertha. She’s a little rough around the edges, but she gets the job done. Fill her up at the convenience-store gas station and they’ll charge it to my account. I’ll let the sheriff know you’ll be seeing my patients.”

  “Are you worried about the hip surgery?”

  “I’m looking forward to the time off. Haven’t had a vacation in years.”

  “Hell of a way to spend your vacation.”

  “I take what I can get.”

  “Are you sure your patients will see me?”

  “Why wouldn’t they?”

  “They don’t know me.”

  “You won’t have any problems. Folks are grateful for my help.”r />
  “How do I handle payments?”

  Doc waved a hand. “You’ll figure it out soon enough.”

  When they reached town, Doc Snyder removed the clinic key from his truck ring and offered it to Alonso. “Let yourself in. I’ll see you in the morning.”

  Alonso was doing a good thing by remaining in Paradise to help Doc. But he knew from experience that it didn’t matter how much good he did—in the end it wouldn’t be enough.

  Chapter Fourteen

  A loud pounding woke Alonso and he checked his watch—eight thirty. The clinic opened at eight. He flew off the cot, shrugged into a fresh T-shirt and tugged on a pair of jeans, then shoved his feet into his hiking boots and hurried down the hall to the waiting room.

  “Hold your horses!” He flipped the bolt, opened the door and came face-to-face with a chicken.

  “Who are you?”

  For a moment he thought the bird had spoken, then a head covered in gray wiry curls peeked around the chicken. “Where’s Doc Snyder?”

  Good question. “He should be here shortly. I’m Dr. Marquez.”

  “I’ve been waitin’ outside in the cold for a half hour.”

  “I’m sorry.” He opened the door wider. “Come in.” She stepped past him and sat in a chair. He glanced between the woman and the bird, but both ignored him. He needed a shot of caffeine before he diagnosed the lady and her feathered friend. He returned to the storage room where he’d slept and studied his K-cup coffee choices stacked on the counter next to the Keurig machine. He picked a dark roast, waited two minutes, then, carrying his breakfast, he returned to the front room.

  “I didn’t get your name,” he said.

  She set the clucker on the floor. “Gertrude. Friends call me Gertie.”

  “What can I do for you, Gertie?”