A Perfect Father

by Laura Iding

  Ryan had mentioned once that Blake had had a rough childhood, but hadn’t elaborated on the subject. Watching Blake work, she realized she didn’t really know much about his personal life prior to medical school. She did know he was conservative with his money, and he’d once said that he’d been forced to take out several large student loans to get through medical school. But other than those few skimpy facts, she didn’t know much at all about his past.

  He must have sensed her gaze, because he glanced up at her.

  “Louisa’s vitals are still stable,” she said quickly.

  “Good.” His eyes crinkled in a smile. Lord, his face was half-covered with his face mask and she still felt his smile all the way to the bottoms of her feet.

  The man had dated more women in a year than she had friends, and her pulse still quickened, her stomach tightening when he gave her one of his long, measuring looks.

  She needed her head examined, big-time.

  “I’m finished here,” Blake announced. “Go ahead and reverse her.” He pushed the instrument tray out of the way with his foot and pulled off his bloody gloves.

  Moriah gave the necessary medication and cut back the general anesthetic. The anesthetic drugs they used now were great. The whole process of waking patients up went much more smoothly and quickly than in years past.

  “I’m taking her over to the PACU,” she told Blake.

  “All right, tell them not to mess with the leg splints I put on her.”

  “I will.” Moriah wheeled her patient down the hall to the PACU and Greta’s capable hands. They’d barely gotten her settled when the patient began to flail around on the cart.

  “Give her some morphine,” Moriah told Greta, attempting to hold the girl down. “She must be in pain.”

  “All right, here’s another two milligrams,” Greta told her as she pushed the medication into Louisa’s IV.

  The poor girl still writhed in the bed, so Moriah lowered her body over the patient’s thrashing legs, hoping to protect Blake’s surgical sites.

  “Give her another dose. Is her IV working? What you gave didn’t seem to be touching her.” Moriah hoped they hadn’t lost the girl’s IV.

  “You’re right, Dr Howe. Her IV isn’t working. I’ll need to start another line.”

  Good grief, how could they start another IV when the poor girl was experiencing such pain? “I’ll do it. Help me by holding her down.”

  Louisa continued to buck and flail on the gurney. Starting another IV wasn’t easy, although with Greta’s help Moriah finally managed to slide the catheter in.

  “There, quick, give the morphine. And the Versed,” Moriah directed, holding the patient down from her side of the gurney. The medications were on the table beside Greta.

  Greta administered the morphine, but not quickly enough. Snap! The sound of a breaking splint echoed through the room like a gunshot. “Oh, my God, call Blake. She just snapped one of her leg splints in two.”

  Moriah continued to hold her patient and soon, once the medication actually reached her bloodstream, Louisa calmed down. Blake muttered under his breath as he re-created a new splint for her.

  “Sorry about that,” Moriah apologized. “We should have realized there might be a problem with the IV sooner.”

  “No harm done to the surgical sites, thank heavens,” Blake commented. “I’ve seen some unruly kids back in the States, but I don’t think I’ve ever seen one of them snap a splint in two.” He shook his head in amazement. “I’d like to sit here and watch her for a few minutes. Ask someone to send up a couple of dinner trays.”

  So much for her plan to avoid spending time with him outside the OR suite. “Do you think that’s necessary?” Moriah asked, glancing down at their patient. “She’s seems better now. And Greta is here to watch her.”

  “Greta will be busy when the patient in OR suite four comes out in another five minutes. Besides, I’d rather make sure she’s all right for myself, especially since the meds you gave her will soon wear off.”

  Unable to come up with another argument, Moriah reluctantly sat, as Blake crossed the room and used the wall phone to order a couple of dinner trays. At least this wasn’t as bad as sitting across from him in the intimacy of the hotel restaurant.

  Greta’s presence on the other side of the room was enough of a reminder that they were still at work.

  Louisa lay peacefully in her cubicle as they ate their dinner at the main desk.

  “Why did your brother call? Are your parents all right?” Blake asked casually.

  Feeling foolish, she nodded. “Yes, they’re fine. Just worried about me, I guess. I haven’t had time to find one of those internet café places to send them a message.”

  He frowned. “You should have said something. There’s a small restaurant with internet access just down the circular road a little ways. I could have taken you over there.”

  Why was Blake suddenly concerned about her family? Very odd. “That’s not the only reason he called. He wanted to let me know he’s getting married.”

  “Married?” Blake’s frown deepened. “He’s far too young to get married, isn’t he?”

  She laughed. “He’s only two years younger than me, which makes him twenty-nine.” To a guy like Blake, forty-nine was probably too young. And her thirty-one suddenly seemed incredibly old, especially if she hoped to have children. “I’m very happy for him. He’s thrilled to have found the woman of his dreams.”

  He paused in the act of lifting his fork to his mouth. “Do you know her well?”

  “No, actually, I haven’t met her yet.” Moriah toyed with the food on her plate. “But I do know that if she loves my brother, she’ll fit into the family just fine.”

  “You don’t know that for sure.” Blake carefully set his fork down and pushed his plate away, as if he couldn’t eat any more. “Some people don’t like big families. I hope, for your brother’s sake, the woman he’s chosen isn’t one of them.”

  “Like you.” She hadn’t meant to say the words out loud, but the guilt in his eyes only confirmed, with sick certainty, what she already knew.

  Blake had seriously meant what he’d once said. He didn’t plan to have a family. Ever.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  “WE’RE not talking about me, but your brother.” Blake neatly dodged her comment. “He’s the one who needs to be sure.”

  “I know my brother. He wouldn’t ask someone to marry him if he didn’t love her.” Moriah narrowed her gaze and let out a harsh laugh. “You’re hardly the one I’d listen to as an expert on that subject. Trust me, John knows the difference between lust and love.”

  Despite her tart tone, he didn’t get angry, but simply looked at her. One of those long, measuring glances she was beginning to resent because of the way they made her squirm.

  “We shared more than lust, Moriah.”

  Oh, if only that were true. She shook her head, toying with the food on her plate. “No, we didn’t.”

  She heard him sigh. “Just because we want different things from life doesn’t mean we weren’t compatible in some ways.”

  So they were just sexually compatible, huh? Now she felt insulted.

  “Hey, you two.” Greta approached the main desk, forestalling further argument. “Is there any food left for me? I’m starved.”

  “Sure, get Blake to order you another tray.” Moriah stood, intent on taking her half-eaten tray of food to the dirty-utility room. On her return trip she paused beside their patient’s gurney. “I think Louisa is fine now, I’m going to discharge her to a regular room.”

  Ignoring Blake’s penetrating stare, she wrote the discharge orders and left the PACU.

  But outside she paused and took a slow, calming breath. Because, though she hated to admit it, deep in her heart she knew his comment had come far too close to the truth.

  On her part anyway, she’d felt a lot more than lust for him.

  The next day passed in a complete blur. Moriah was scheduled to cover other an
esthesiologists for breaks and lunches, which was a good thing, because it was easier to avoid Blake.

  We shared more than lust, Moriah.

  If that was the case, why had he walked away from her so easily? Not just leaving her, which had been painful enough, but intending to move on to the next woman before the sheets on her bed had grown cold?

  At dinnertime, she tried to grab something to eat, but her appetite was gone. Outside, in the circular street, she was surprised to find Henri standing beside a large bus.

  “Henri!” She hadn’t seen him since that first day in the clinic. “I’ve been wondering where you were. We’ll need your mother’s permission before we can get you scheduled for surgery.”

  The boy ducked his head, as if embarrassed. “I can’t. My mother is dead. I live in the orphanage now.”

  “Oh, Henri.” Concerned, Moriah wrapped her arm around his thin shoulders. “I’m so sorry to hear that.”

  He shrugged. “The orphanage is not so bad. We come to the city sometimes, and that was how I was lucky to find you.”

  “Yes, and I was lucky to find you, too.” Moriah thought fast. “Henri, who is the person in charge at the orphanage? We’ll need an adult’s consent for you to have surgery.”

  “Sister Rita is the person in charge, but she’s not there today. Sister Eloise is here with us.”

  She glanced up to see a woman herding a group of laughing kids toward the bus. “Henri, tell Sister Rita I’ll be in touch, all right?” Moriah stepped back to allow the kids to pile on the bus. Henri nodded, then climbed aboard with the rest. His face was pressed against the window, watching and waving at her as the bus drew away.

  Moriah tried not to worry about Henri as she headed toward the hotel. Although the hour was early, she avoided the dining room, not wanting to run into Blake, and crawled into bed. She didn’t set her alarm because, after five days of surgery, tomorrow was her day off. She knew from checking the schedule that Blake had the day off too but, unlike last year, they hadn’t made any plans to spend the day together.

  She should be relieved at the reprieve.

  But she wasn’t.

  Sleep didn’t come easily. She tossed and turned, then tossed and turned again.

  Finally, she stared at the ceiling. No point in lying to herself any longer. No matter how stupid it was, she couldn’t move on with her life the way she wanted, because her feelings were still stuck on Blake.

  The next morning, at the decadently late hour of eight-thirty, Moriah crawled from her bed. Facing her reflection in the mirror over her bathroom sink, she gave herself a little pep-talk. So what if she still had feelings for Blake? The earth wasn’t going to stop rotating on its axis over the news. She just needed to find a way to deal with it, at least until they returned home.

  And there was no reason to let Blake know how messed up her heart was over him. With a frown, she scrubbed her teeth, as if by wearing away the plaque she’d wear away the doubts. Enough stewing about Blake. She had things to do.

  She had chosen not to go on the Inca ruin trip this year, not when the memory of last time, how she and Blake had spent the day together, walking hand in hand while staring in awe at the geometric architecture, remained crystal clear in her mind.

  Instead, she’d decided to explore the rocky cliffs overlooking the ocean. The rhythmic waves would soothe her troubled soul and the hot sun would feel great against her skin.

  The cliffs weren’t dangerous, especially as she wasn’t going to be doing any serious rock-climbing. She wore rugged shoes with her walking shorts and a carry-pouch filled with lip balm, crackers and water. She figured she could grab a big breakfast before she left, then return to the hotel in time for an early dinner.

  Breakfast consisted of tortilla-wrapped omelets stuffed with peppers. The food was so delicious she ate to the point she had to wait an additional thirty minutes for everything in her stomach to settle. The tactic worked against her, because when she asked the hotel if she could rent a two-wheeled bike, they were briefly unavailable. In Trujillo, more people rode bikes than drove cars. They promised to obtain a bike for her, though, and within the hour they proudly provided her with one.

  As she straddled the bike, preparing to take off, she noticed Blake standing at the side of the street, conversing with one of the locals. For a moment she was tempted to go over to see what he was doing, then berated herself for being so curious. Blake’s time off had nothing to do with her. She deliberately settled her bottom on the bike saddle and headed east.

  She thought she heard him call her name, but when she glanced back over her shoulder she didn’t see any sign of him. His voice must have been in her imagination.

  The roads were worn and a little rougher than she was used to, but she enjoyed the ride anyway, feeling exhilarated at simply being outdoors with the wind in her hair and the sun on her face. The salty scent of the ocean was enticing. The beach in Trujillo was crowded at this time of the year and she loved seeing the brightly dressed people en masse on the sandy shore.

  Rather than join the playful atmosphere on the beach, Moriah rode her bike to the base of one of the gently sloping cliffs overlooking the ocean. She parked the bike, hiding it behind a rather large outcropping of rock, then began to climb.

  She chose an easy path, not seeking thrills but longing to get to the spacious, flat mesa-like top. With her sturdy shoes, the going wasn’t difficult. She hauled herself up to the top.

  Oh, my. She sucked in a quick breath. What a glorious view. The bright sun glinting off the water, the dark bobbing heads of children playing in the surf. Ignoring the dust, she sat on the ground and wrapped her arms around her knees, resting her chin on them and listening to the sound of rolling waves hitting the shore.

  She’d come here to be alone, but she quickly grew tired of her own company. Too bad she hadn’t found the courage to invite Blake. Maybe he wasn’t the man of her future, but he was a good companion. Last year they’d had such fun spending the day together, it just didn’t feel right to be here without him.

  Then again, she needed to learn to live her entire life without him. Better get used to that fact.

  Moriah had no idea how long she sat there, but eventually she grew hungry. After taking the crackers and water out of her pack, she ate her snack, then decided it was time to climb down to find her bike.

  Climbing down was trickier than going up. Not because the sandy rocks were steep, but because of the grooves between the rocks. She wasn’t in a hurry, though, so she took her time, testing each foothold carefully before moving downward.

  Still, the sand-covered rocks were more slippery than she’d remembered. Unexpectedly, the toe of her right shoe skidded sideways. She clutched the rock for balance, but her attempt to shift her weight failed and her foot shot down into a crevice.

  “Ouch!” She yelped as her ankle bone rapped sharply against unyielding rock. For a moment she stayed where she was, struggling against the pain. Awkwardly, she balanced her weight on her hands and tried to lever herself upright.

  Her foot wouldn’t budge.

  She frowned, peering down at her trapped foot. The crevice wasn’t deep, but it certainly had enough depth so she couldn’t even see the top of her shoe. Her foot was at an odd angle, and already the strain on her ankle was painful. Irritated, she tugged on it again. The darn thing had gone in easily enough, surely it would come out the same way.

  Maybe the sole of her shoe was caught on a bit of rock. Wincing, she tried to turn her foot, one way and then the other, but without success. The darned thing wouldn’t move even a millimeter.

  Now what? She glanced around in search of aid, but there wasn’t anyone in sight. All the people on the beach were out of sight, as she’d taken the far side down.

  Sitting on the rock wasn’t easy, with her stuck foot. And all too soon the pain escalated to a full-blown throbbing.

  How could she have been such an idiot? Why had sitting on the top of a cliff to look out over the ocean s
eemed like such a good idea? How long would she be stuck here until someone found her?

  She wished with all her might that she’d asked Blake to come with her today.

  A sharp burning pinprick on her ankle had her jerking upright in alarm. Something had bitten her. But what? Frantically, she thought about what little she knew about the desert as she tried to peer down the dark crevice at her foot.

  Her stomach rolled when something scuttled from view. Peru’s desert was very much like Arizona. Scorpions lived there and their sting was poisonous. No, get a grip. Scorpions were nocturnal creatures, they shouldn’t be out in the middle of the day. Although it was dark between the rocks…

  She swallowed hard against a rising wave of panic. Spiders? Did poisonous spiders live here? She recalled reading about tarantulas, which were, in her opinion, the creepiest spiders on earth. Yet even if one had bitten her, tarantulas weren’t harmful to humans. Still, just thinking about the large hairy things had her yanking on her trapped foot in earnest, not caring when her ankle protested in pain.

  She could only pray that whatever had bitten her wasn’t venomous.

  Blake paced the area in front of the hotel, unable to shrug off the warning itch between his shoulder blades. Moriah wasn’t back yet, and he wasn’t afraid to admit he was worried.

  He took six steps, then turned to take another six steps in the opposite direction. He’d seen her ride away on a two-wheeled bicycle she had rented from the hotel. But that had been hours ago, nearly ten-thirty that morning. He glanced at his watch for the tenth time in as many minutes. It was nearly three in the afternoon now.

  Where could she be?

  Maybe he should have asked her to spend the day with him.

  Mentally he kicked himself for the lapse. He’d called out to her as she’d started to ride away, but she hadn’t heard him. He should have swallowed his pride and followed her.

  At least then he’d know where she was.

  Of course, she’d been so annoyed with him she would probably have refused to hang out with him anyway.