A Perfect Father

by Laura Iding

  “I care about you, Moriah. For God’s sake, I’m falling in love with you.”

  Had he really said he was falling in love with her? Tentative hope flared. “Really?”

  “Yes, but you need to understand—I can’t change who I am. I’m falling for you, but I still don’t want a family.”

  Her brief feeling of euphoria faded. “You can’t mean that.”

  “I do. You’re the one who told me adults make choices. What if this is the choice I’ve made?”

  When she opened her mouth to interrupt him, he raised a hand. “Some people aren’t the family type. They can’t cope with it. My parents were a prime example. If you can live with that part of me, then you’re welcome to come in.”

  She stared at him, unable to believe he’d tossed her an ultimatum. He loved her and she loved him, but she couldn’t accept what he was saying.

  “You have no idea how much I wish I could change for you. But I can’t.”

  Slowly, quietly, giving her every chance to stop him, he closed the door.

  Dear Reader,

  At the hospital where I work, there is a group of plastic surgeons who travel once a year to a different part of the world to perform gratis surgeries on patients with severe birth defects. A nursing friend of mine went with them one year and told me that physically she’d never worked so hard in her life, but emotionally she’d never had a more rewarding nursing experience. The patients and their families were overwhelmingly grateful for their medical care. When my friend returned, she brought dozens of pictures and had stories about each of the different patients she’d taken care of. When I read her diary and looked through all the amazing pictures, I decided it would be wonderful to share a portion of her experiences with others.

  A Perfect Father is a story about plastic surgeon Blake Powers and anesthesiologist Moriah Howe, two estranged lovers who unexpectedly find themselves together again in Peru. They had struggled with their relationship in the past because family is very important to Moriah, while Blake has no experience with children. When being in the same room together brings their former attraction back to the surface, they realize their feelings had been only buried, not forgotten. With a little help from Henri, a young plastic surgery patient, Moriah and Blake begin to understand the true meaning of family.

  I love hearing from my readers. You can get in touch with me through my Web site at www.lauraiding.com. I hope you enjoy Blake and Moriah’s story.

  Sincerely,

  Laura Iding

  A Perfect Father

  Laura Iding

  To Ellen Hartman, who shared her Peru stories with me, and to Colleen Callaway, who covered the MICU while she was gone. You guys are the greatest.

  CONTENTS

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CHAPTER ONE

  HEAVY, humid air intermingled with the fragrant scent of tropical flowers surrounded Dr Moriah Howe as she stepped outside the hotel. The soothing sound of ocean waves crashing on the beach made her smile.

  Peru. It was great to be back in a country well known for its eternal sunshine and friendly people. A whole year had passed since her last mission here, and she was more than ready to get started.

  They would meet with prospective patients in the clinic first. Moriah walked along the unique circular street, heading from the hotel that housed the Litmann and Granger plastic surgery team to Trujillo hospital. A large stone sculpture stood in the center of the city and she paused for a moment to flip a coin into the well around it.

  The only wish she had was to keep memories of Dr Blake Powers buried deep in the past, where they belonged. She planned to use this impromptu trip to purge any lingering caring-too-much-for-him thoughts from her heart, once and for all.

  She’d almost reached the hospital when an older Peruvian woman with gray hair and wearing a bright red dress rushed toward her, grabbed her arm and began speaking in very rapid Spanish.

  Moriah frowned and searched her rusty memory for the proper words. “What? I’m sorry, tell me again what is wrong?”

  “My daughter. She needs a doctor. Come with me.” The gray-haired woman tugged on her arm and Moriah willingly followed. Thankfully, they weren’t far from the hospital, so additional medical help would be easy to summon.

  The older woman showed her to a car with a passenger in the front seat. Moriah blanched. It was obvious the poor woman was in the throes of intense labor.

  “Breathe through the pain, that’s it.” Trying to remain calm, Moriah placed her hand on the woman’s taut belly, feeling the strength of the contraction. As an anesthesiologist, she’d completed her required stint in obstetrics, but primarily to gain expertise in placing epidural catheters and preparing for crash C-sections, not actually delivering babies.

  “All right, we need to get you into the emergency department.” A deep sense of urgency caused Moriah to glance around, seeking more help, but the hour was still early, and there weren’t any other people on the street yet. She wasn’t sure why the woman had stopped the car here, but maybe they could get a wheelchair from the hospital. She touched the older woman lightly on the arm.

  “You need to go to the emergency department, ask for a wheelchair and bring it back here.”

  The woman nodded in understanding and hurried off, moving surprisingly fast. Moriah knelt beside the open passenger door and spoke to the pregnant woman in a calm voice. “Hello, my name is Moriah and I’m one of the American doctors visiting here for a few weeks. Your baby is anxious to be born, so as soon as your mother gets back we’ll wheel you into the hospital.”

  “My name is Rasha.” The pregnant woman spoke between panting breaths. “There is a lot of pain and pressure. I need to push.”

  “No, don’t push yet.” Moriah banked a flare of panic. She didn’t want this baby born here in the car, when they were so close to the hospital.

  Rasha moaned in pain and Moriah rubbed a soothing hand over the woman’s belly. She had always longed to have a big family like her own one day, but watching the grimace playing across Rasha’s pretty features reminded her that the process of giving birth wasn’t easy. “You’re doing fine, just hang in there a little longer. I’ll breathe with you during the next contraction, all right?”

  Rasha nodded and together they made it through the next contraction. By Moriah’s estimate, the contractions were close, only two minutes apart. Using the stethoscope around her neck, she listened to the baby’s heartbeat, glad to hear it beating strong and fast. She was about to start laying on the horn to get attention when Rasha’s mother returned, hurrying over with a wheelchair and a Peruvian ED nurse.

  “I haven’t been able to examine her progress, but I did hear good fetal heart tones and her contractions are two minutes apart.” Moriah helped Rasha out of the car, into the wheelchair.

  “Thanks. Let’s get her inside.” The Peruvian nurse pushed Rasha across the street and to the ED doors. Moriah followed, intent on staying long enough to make sure Rasha was settled in before heading over to the clinic where her patients waited.

  The ED doctor shouted orders and rapid bursts of Spanish flew amongst the health-care team. Moriah’s eyes widened, impressed by their effortless efficiency as they took charge of the situation, getting Rasha into a room and examining her. Rasha held firmly onto her hand so Moriah made one of the entourage in the room.

  “I need to examine her
.” The ED doctor raised a brow at Moriah questioningly.

  She understood what he silently asked. “Rasha, do you want me to leave?” she said in a low voice.

  “No.” Rasha shook her head, hanging on even tighter to Moriah’s hand. “Please, stay. I wish Manuel was here, too.”

  Moriah didn’t get a chance to question her about Manuel, whom she assumed was the baby’s father, because the ED doctor spoke up.

  “The baby is crowning, she’s ready to deliver. Call the OB doctor now.” He began to prepare for the delivery as the nurse hurried from the room to make the call.

  Thank heavens they’d gotten her inside when they had. Moriah wondered where Rasha’s mother was, but there wasn’t a spare hand to be had and she couldn’t bring herself to leave Rasha alone to find the older woman.

  The OB doctor arrived. He agreed with the ED doctor’s assessment. “There isn’t time to move her upstairs. We’ll deliver the baby here.”

  “All right, Rasha, soon you will be able to push.” Moriah stroked the young woman’s hair reassuringly. “Just a little more patience and you’ll hold your baby in your arms.”

  The OB doctor prepped the area, then glanced up at Rasha. “With the next contraction, push.”

  Finally. Moriah was almost as relieved as Rasha that the time had come to push. A few contractions later, the baby was born.

  Sheer awe intertwined with bitter-sweet longing as Moriah gazed at the tiny miracle in Rasha’s arms. “A girl. Rasha, you have a beautiful baby girl.” Moriah laughed as the baby cried. Rasha laughed and cried, too.

  “She is a good weight, 3.2 kilograms. Congratulations.” The OB doctor finished caring for the baby then wrapped her in a blanket and gave her to Rasha.

  “Gracias. Thank you so much.”

  “You’re welcome,” the OB doctor responded, smiling.

  Moriah grinned. “Let me find your mother. I’m sure she’d like to see her granddaughter.”

  “Yes.” Rasha nodded, gazing adoringly at her baby girl.

  Moriah found Rasha’s mother in the waiting room and quickly ushered the woman inside, where she immediately began to croon over the baby. Satisfied the family was together and doing fine, Moriah made her excuse to go.

  “I’m expected at the clinic, but congratulations again on your beautiful baby. I’ll come back later,” she promised.

  “Thanks for all your help,” Rasha’s mother said, not for the first time.

  Moriah nodded, then slipped out of the room. She longed to have a family of her own, and had briefly, foolishly, harbored thoughts that it would be with Blake, but her dream wasn’t meant to be.

  She wasn’t going to dwell on the past now and ruin her good mood. She stepped outside, where the hot, humid air seemed even more intense. February in Peru was the exact opposite weather from what her family was experiencing at home, in the midwestern part of the States. She made a mental note to let her siblings know she had arrived safely.

  The clinic, adjacent to the hospital, was where the patients would be seen and screened prior to having surgery.

  Moriah made her way through the crowd, in an effort to find the specific clinic assigned for her to use.

  Patients were just starting to line up, so her brief foray into obstetrics hadn’t put her too far behind. There was a table with refreshments for staff and patients, and she helped herself to a glass of tangy papaya juice.

  Someone jostled her from behind. She lifted her arm to avoid spilling juice on her lab coat.

  “Sorry about that.”

  The deep, achingly familiar masculine voice had Moriah turning sharply, then staring in shock as she recognized the tall, blond-haired surgeon. She nearly choked on a mouthful of papaya juice in her haste to swallow. Her voice squeaked. “Blake.”

  His blue eyes flared in recognition. “Moriah.”

  For a long moment, she stared at him in shock. Blake? Here in Peru? How could that be? Six feet tall, he towered over her, wearing a lab coat over his casual slacks and shirt, looking far more handsome than he had a right to be.

  “What are you doing here?” she asked, her sharp tone belying her leaping pulse.

  “Didn’t you hear? I was asked to come on this trip to replace Ed Granger. His wife, Diane, has been diagnosed with breast cancer.” He paused, then added in a slightly defensive tone, “I couldn’t say no. He lives for this mission. I couldn’t let him down.”

  “Of course I heard about Diane.” Fate certainly had a sick sense of humor, Moriah thought sourly. “I’m here as her replacement.”

  So much for her plan of getting Blake out of her system. Why hadn’t she thought to ask which surgeon had agreed to cover Ed? The group hadn’t traveled to Peru on the same flight—half of them had arrived a day earlier. Her hand tightened on her juice. “I couldn’t say no either. For one thing, all of my immunizations are up to date from last year. For another, Diane lives for this mission as much as Ed does.”

  “I know.” Blake nodded, his gaze unreadable. “So. Here we are, together again, in beautiful Peru.”

  She stifled the urge to toss her juice in his face. Forcing herself to remain calm, she lifted her chin. “Don’t flatter yourself, Blake. We’re not here together. I’m sure we can manage to stay out of each other’s way.”

  “Of course we can.” Blake cleared his throat then met her gaze with a concerned look. “I’m sorry about Diane. I know how close the two of you are.”

  “Thanks. Diane is strong, she’ll pull through this.” Moriah stoutly refused to believe otherwise.

  “I’m sure she will, especially with your help and support.” Blake’s tone was soft, comforting.

  Just like he’d been last year, holding her so sweetly after they’d heard the news of Ryan’s death. Dammit, she didn’t want to remember how wonderful Blake had been. She didn’t want to like him. And she especially didn’t want to remember how it had felt to make love with him.

  To have sex with him, she bluntly amended. A one-night stand wasn’t anything more than casual sex. A cold hard fact she needed to remember.

  “Let’s get started.” Moriah gulped her drink, set the empty juice glass down, and glanced around. “I’ll take this clinic here.”

  “Fine. I’ll be down the hall.”

  He probably figured taking the clinic farthest away from her was being helpful. It wasn’t. Not when his presence here, thousands of miles from home, was a living, breathing reminder of a painful past.

  Blake was totally the wrong man for her, just as Ryan had been. Why on earth couldn’t she convince her heart she was better off without him?

  Moriah sank into a chair in the cluttered clinic, feeling strangely exhilarated, despite her weary eyes and sore back. The constant stream of patients had taken her mind off her own problems, helping to put things in perspective.

  These people were so happy to be considered for surgery. Planning ways to help them, especially the children, made her remember all the reasons she’d been thrilled to return. Granted, the Litmann and Granger plastic surgery group could only stay for three weeks, but there was so much they could accomplish, even in that short a time frame.

  They could help fix the burns, the injuries, the birth defects.

  Moriah opened her eyes when Blake and George Litmann entered the room. Deep in discussion, they didn’t appear to notice her sitting there.

  “We’ve made a great start. There is a list of twenty patients with high-priority injuries,” Blake was saying. “The youngest is barely three months old, the oldest a man in his forties. We’re going to be very busy.”

  “Maybe we need to focus our efforts on the children,” George said thoughtfully. “Not that the older adults shouldn’t get a chance at surgery, but the youngest certainly have the most to lose.”

  “But did you see him? There is so much scar tissue from his burns on his face and chest. We can’t say no when he needs our help,” Blake argued, threading his fingers through his hair in an aggrieved motion.

 
George sighed. “I know. We’ll try to find room for him on the schedule.”

  “If we operate on Sunday, we can squeeze him in.” Blake’s troubled tone betrayed his concern, and Moriah felt her hard countenance softening. She simply couldn’t seem to stay mad at him.

  “I’ll do his anesthesia on Sunday, if it helps.” She spoke up, alerting them to her presence. She was a medical professional. Surely she could deal with Blake if she focused on work and nothing more. “I agree with Blake. We should try to do as many cases as possible.”

  “There are only so many hours in a day,” George reminded her. “And only so many operating suites.”

  She knew he was right, but she was determined each patient’s needs would be met. “Are we finished for today?”

  “Yeah, although we’ll have another long day tomorrow.” Blake kept his tone polite, yet distant.

  Moriah nodded. “All right, so we have three rooms and five surgeons, with five accompanying anesthesiologists teamed together to rotate through the rooms. Depending on how many hours each case actually needs, we may have some wiggle room in the schedule.”

  “Yeah, plus we’re doing more training with the Peruvian surgeons from last year. They’re anxious to do some of the cases, too,” Blake pointed out.

  Without warning, a small, dark-haired boy darted through the doorway. His brown eyes widened in surprise and he skidded to a halt when he noticed the three of them standing there.

  “La médica?” His gaze zoomed in on Moriah.

  His face was familiar and with a puzzled frown she tried to place him. “Henri? Is that you?”

  “Dr Moriah!” His dark face broke into a hopeful grin. “You remember.”

  “Of course I remember. You were one of my favorite patients.” She glanced over his shoulder to the empty hallway with a frown. “Where’s your mother? Didn’t she come with you?”

  The boy’s smile dimmed as he shook his head.

  “How are you?” She couldn’t tell how well his leg had healed. Last year, Blake had released a bad contracture on his severely burned right foot. She slanted him a glance, wondering if he remembered Henri, too, but his oblique gaze didn’t tell her anything.