A Perfect Father

by Laura Iding

  “Do you want me to reverse him?” Moriah asked.

  “Go ahead.” Blake pulled off his bloody gloves. “He’s all yours.”

  “Gee, thanks.” Moriah removed the breathing tube and then covered Henri’s mouth and nose with an oxygen mask. “I’ll take him over to the PACU.”

  “I’ll catch up with you in a few minutes. I want to take a quick peek at José’s skin flap.” Blake watched Moriah push Henri on the gurney out of the OR suite to head down the hall to the PACU. He was just as glad to have that particular procedure over with, too. After pulling off his bloody hospital gown, he crossed over to the sink. He spent a few minutes washing up, then headed out of the OR to the patient rooms.

  José was on the second floor and when he entered the room he spoke softly so as not to startle the patient. “José? It’s me, Dr Powers. I need to check your flap again. I’m going to flick on the big lights, OK?”

  José nodded and Blake turned on the bright overhead lights. He bent down and examined the flap. Thank heavens, it was doing well. He’d been so worried last night, thinking he’d have to return to surgery to relieve the build-up of blood beneath the flap.

  “Looks great.” He grinned down at José. “Have you seen how it looks in the mirror?” When José shook his head, Blake went out to the nurses’ station to find a mirror. He brought it in and held it up to show him. “See? The scarred area is covered now and you can turn your head from side to side.”

  “Gracias, el médico. Muchas gracias.” José gave him a lopsided smile.

  “You’re welcome. I’ll check with you in the morning.” Blake returned the mirror to the nurses’ station. Once he was on the floor, he figured he should check on his other patients as well.

  So he finished his rounds, then glanced at his watch. Surely Moriah would be finished with Henri by now.

  He walked back toward the recovery room, in time to see a nurse named Emily shut off the lights and close the door. “Wait a minute, where’s Henri? And Dr Howe?”

  “Dr Howe took Henri to his room.” Emily seemed surprised by his question. “He was our last patient.”

  “Do you know which room?” he asked.

  “Third floor, 314, I believe.”

  Blake retraced his steps to the elevators and this time headed to the third floor. He found room 314 without any trouble, since the layout was exactly the same as on the second floor.

  The room was dark, only a crack of light could be seen from beneath the bathroom door. He gave his eyes a moment to adjust to the darkness, then frowned when he saw Moriah curled up in a chair next to Henri’s bed, her head as close to his as possible.

  For a moment he didn’t understand, until it clicked. Of course, she’d planned on staying with the child throughout the night.

  She looked so peaceful. Seeing her with Henri made him feel strangely bereft. Last night he hadn’t been able to go back to the hotel with her because his patient had needed him; now she was stuck here with Henri. Then he smiled. Actually, with her native American heritage, she could easily be mistaken for Henri’s mother.

  His smile faded. There was that mother image again. He could picture it so clearly, her belly round with child, a little boy or girl, with olive skin and lots of dark hair like hers.

  She’d mentioned having choices. Obviously, he had two different ones now. He could walk away, giving her the chance to find someone else, someone who’d give her the family she wanted.

  Or he could keep moving forward, giving their relationship a chance to grow.

  But was it fair to ask Moriah put her dreams of having a family on hold—permanently?

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  MORIAH stirred when Henri thrashed in his sleep. She raised her head and glanced down at him. He was another star patient, never once asking for a drop of pain medicine. She knew his fingers had to hurt, but every time she’d asked, he’d denied being in pain.

  Still, she’d kept a few doses of morphine for him and had even gone as far as to give him some against his will. At least the medication had helped him sleep for almost six hours. Since then, though, he’d refused any more.

  The longer she spent time with him, the more he reminded her of her nephew Mitch. The identical look of disdain when she’d tried to convince him to finish all his food prior to eating dessert. The way he slept, with the utter relaxation of the innocent. Heck, she could imagine the boys playing together, having a great time despite their cultural differences. Henri’s English was surprisingly good.

  With a yawn she stood and stretched her aching muscles. Sleeping in the chair had given her a few more kinks to work out. At least her ankle was nearly back to normal. It didn’t hurt at all, unless she twisted it a certain way.

  Borrowing Henri’s bathroom, she washed up and tried to finger-comb her hair. The hour was still early, but she knew Blake would make rounds soon.

  When he arrived, she greeted him with a wide smile, but her stomach sank when he remained totally professional, asking her questions about Henri’s care as if she really were only a patient’s family member instead of the woman he’d taken to bed and made love to.

  She narrowed her gaze in annoyance. He was doing it again, distancing himself from her. She knew it, yet she was helpless to stop it.

  “How is Henri doing?”

  “Great. He only took one dose of morphine, though. He’s refused to take any more,” Moriah told him.

  “Hmm. Well, as long as the pain doesn’t interfere with his sleep, he’ll be fine.” Blake kept his gaze trained on the chart. “I’m glad to see his rash has abated.”

  “Me, too.” Moriah frowned. This was ridiculous. Hadn’t they gotten past this? He hadn’t acted like this in the taxi yesterday. He’d kissed her hand then pulled her closer for a proper kiss. What was wrong with him? “I thought I’d check in with George to see if he needs any help, since Henri’s doing so well. I don’t think Henri will need constant care all day. I can help cover lunches and breaks as needed.”

  “I’m sure George will appreciate the help.” When Blake finally met her gaze, his was impersonally remote. “I’ll need you to change the dressing on Henri’s fingers at seven o’clock tonight.”

  “I will.” Perplexed, she watched him walk away. What on earth had changed? Clearly, something must be bothering him. But she was darned if she could decipher what it was. She hadn’t done anything, except take care of Henri.

  Moriah decided she’d corner Blake later and pressure him into telling her what was wrong. But for now she focused her attention on her patient.

  Henri reassured her he was fine, urging her to leave him alone for a while. After promising him she’d return later, she headed down to the first-floor operating suites.

  She met George leaving as she was on her way in. “Moriah!” he greeted her. “Do you have a minute?”

  “Sure. In fact, I was just coming down to offer my services. What’s up?”

  “One of the locals called to let me know there’s another potential patient asking to be seen. I’d like you to come and examine her with me.” George turned and led the way to the clinic. “She’s a sixteen-year-old girl, and may feel more comfortable with a female physician.”

  “No problem.” Moriah hurried to keep up with him. “Any idea what sort of surgery she needs?”

  “Nope.” George opened the door for her and gestured for her to go through. “But we’ll find out soon enough. She’s waiting for us in room ten.”

  Moriah opened the door to clinic room ten, to see a young girl holding a hand over her mouth, seated next to an older man. The man stood the moment they entered.

  “Hello.” He spoke slowly in Spanish. “My name is Theo and this is my daughter, Marita. We have walked for the past six days, from dawn to sundown, to come here. We’d like to ask if you could please fix Marita’s face.”

  Moriah’s jaw dropped. Good grief, the two of them had actually walked for six whole days just to get here? Talk about persistence. She summoned a smile for t
he girl. “Hello, Marita. What seems to be the problem?” She reached up to draw the girl’s hand from her face, but the girl resisted, shaking and ducking her head.

  “I’m sorry, Marita is shy about you seeing it.” Theo’s brow furrowed. “Marita has had this defect since birth. But she is growing worse now that she is older. She has refused to leave the house, not wanting anyone to see her.” He sent them a beseeching look. “Please, help her. Marita is very depressed. Two months ago she tried to take her own life.”

  This was serious. Moriah stepped forward, speaking slowly to Marita. “I’m a doctor, Marita. Please, let me see your mouth. Dr Litmann here is a surgeon, it’s possible he can help you.”

  Marita closed her eyes and dropped her hand, revealing one of the most grotesque cases of cleft lip Moriah had ever seen. Of course, most cases didn’t go untreated for as long as Marita’s had. George took one look at her and sighed. “There’s no way we can leave her like this. I know the schedule is full but we’ll find a way to fit her in.”

  “Gracias.” Theo smiled in relief and wrapped his arm around his daughter’s shoulders. “We are so grateful. Gracias.”

  Moriah glanced at George. “Today is my day off, but if you can find a surgeon, I’ll do the anesthesia for her procedure.”

  “Great. Thanks, Moriah.” George hurried off while Moriah finished examining Marita. Thankfully, the girl was in fairly good health, if you didn’t count severe depression.

  “Have you eaten anything today?” she asked. When Marita hesitated and glanced at her father, Moriah added, “It’s important for me to know if there is food in your stomach. If you have eaten, I just need to know when. Either way, you will still have surgery, I promise.”

  Marita’s hand was back over her mouth and it was several long seconds before she slowly shook her head.

  “When we left home six days ago, we had some food, but it’s all gone now. We have not eaten since yesterday,” Theo finally explained.

  Oh, Lord. Moriah’s throat thickened with emotion. How completely amazing that they’d walked six days for the possibility of surgery. Would any American do something like that? She couldn’t imagine it. Taking a slow, deep breath, she forced a smile. “Well, that’s good news for you, Marita. Now we can operate on your lip sooner.” She glanced at the girl’s father. “I think you must be hungry. After I get Marita settled in, we’ll find something for you.”

  “Don’t worry about me. Take care of my daughter.”

  His concern for his daughter was sweet. Theo was obviously a great father.

  George returned with Blake. He barely spared her a glance, but instantly smiled warmly at their shy patient. “Hello, Marita. My name is Dr Powers. Dr Litmann was telling me about your need for surgery. May I see?”

  Once again Marita resisted, until her father convinced her to co-operate. She closed her eyes and dropped her hand, as if she could only bear for them to look if she couldn’t see them. Blake immediately turned to George. “I’m more than willing to do her surgery, if we have an open room.”

  “OR suite four is occupied until three o’clock this afternoon, then it’s free. I’ve already made arrangements to use the room then.”

  “Great.” Blake nodded. “I’ll plan on it.”

  She didn’t have any time to discuss what was bothering Blake, because once they’d gotten Marita and her father settled into a patient room, she ended up returning to the OR to cover another anesthesiologist for a break. By the time she was finished, it was time to go back and check on Henri, then start covering for lunches.

  Moriah remained busy up until three o’clock when she was scheduled to do Marita’s case with Blake. As she spoke to the girl, explaining what she was going to do, she was aware of Blake entering the room. She concentrated on placing Marita’s IV, then gave her a small dose of sedative to help her relax.

  “I’ll have her ready to go in a few minutes,” Moriah called out to Blake. “Just let me get her intubated.”

  “No problem.” Blake didn’t seem annoyed with the minor delay and Moriah wondered if she’d imagined his cool response earlier. Maybe she had been imagining things. They were both exhausted from the long hours they were keeping. They’d gotten close in the taxi, maybe all they needed was a little downtime together. She quickly placed Marita’s breathing tube, using the girl’s nasal passage so Blake could repair her lip, then connected her to the anesthesia machine.

  “I’m all set here.” Moriah quickly jotted down Marita’s initial set of vital signs.

  One of the scrub nurses came over to place sterile drapes over Marita’s head and chest, leaving an open area where only her mouth could be seen. Once the area was prepped, Blake approached. Because of the site of the surgery and her position at the head of the bed, they would have to work in close physical proximity.

  Blake didn’t seem to be holding back from her as they worked over Marita. They immediately fell into the same rhythm they’d had before Blake had started acting so strangely. Thankfully, the repair of the cleft lip didn’t take very long, although just as Blake was finishing, the anesthesia machine indicated the gas tank was empty, when she knew there should be a good half-tank left.

  “There’s a malfunction here,” Moriah told him. She lightly tapped the gauges, trying to get the needle to read properly. “I’ll need to either switch machines or begin the reversal process.”

  “Give her a bolus of Versed to hold her, then go ahead and take her off the anesthesia machine,” Blake suggested. “This is my last suture.”

  Moriah did as he’d recommended, then carefully monitored Marita after disconnecting her from the machine. “The gauge on the machine is broken, I think. We’ll have to let the local doctors know.”

  “At least it lasted long enough to finish her surgery,” was Blake’s response. “She’s all set.”

  “I’ll take her over to the PACU, then.” She quickly extubated the girl, then wheeled the gurney through the hall. In the PACU, Greta took a set of vital signs, then frowned.

  “She’s not breathing very well, Dr Howe.”

  Moriah frowned. “Is she waking up?”

  Greta shook her head. “No.”

  Had she given the girl too much anesthesia? The machine could have been malfunctioning for minutes before she’d realized what had happened. Quickly, she came over and grabbed the ambu-bag. Placing the oxygen mask over Marita’s face, she gave several breaths.

  “Pulse ox better, up to 89 per cent,” Greta informed her.

  “Come on, Marita. Wake up,” Moriah urged.

  She gave several more breaths, then Marita began to thrash her head back and forth. Sighing in relief, Moriah removed the ambu-bag.

  Marita’s eyelids fluttered open, a sight Moriah had rarely been so thankful to see.

  “Whew, that was close.” Moriah turned toward Greta. “I’m going to put a note on the malfunctioning anesthesia machine, so this doesn’t happen to someone else.”

  She stayed by Marita’s bedside until the girl was fully recovered from her overdose of anesthesia. Finally, Moriah felt comfortable leaving. The rest of her evening was free.

  And so was Blake’s.

  Moriah already knew exactly what she wanted to do. First, she’d check on Henri. Once she’d changed his hand dressing, she’d surprise Blake in his room. Not only had he given his all to his patients, he’d taken care of her more than once, with her injured ankle, then when she’d been ill. Heck, it was about time she did something for him.

  A picnic? Maybe. She warmed to the idea, wondering what it would take to convince the hotel to make a couple of meals to go. Surely, once she and Blake were alone, they’d have plenty of time to talk. Or not to talk.

  She’d wear something nice and slinky, just in case he wasn’t clear on the message she wanted to send. No mixed signals allowed. Moriah grinned.

  She couldn’t wait to see the expression on his face.

  Hours later, Moriah was finally ready. She held a large paper bag of food in
one hand and smoothed down her sundress with the other. She hadn’t brought anything sexy with her to Peru, but at least the dress was nice. And she wasn’t wearing a stitch of underwear beneath.

  Gathering her courage, she lifted a hand and knocked on Blake’s door. When he didn’t answer right away, she tapped her foot nervously.

  Finally the door opened. Blake looked surprised to see her. “What is it? Something wrong?”

  “Nothing’s wrong. I brought a picnic for us.” She lifted the bag and patted the blanket folded over her arm. “I hope you’re hungry.”

  “Ah—actually, I’ve already eaten.” Blake stood in the doorway, looking distinctly uncomfortable.

  “That’s all right, I’m not all that hungry for food myself,” Moriah confessed. She leaned closer, standing on tiptoe to brush his jaw with a kiss. “A private party without food is just as good.”

  To her surprise, Blake grabbed her shoulders to prevent her from coming closer. “This isn’t a good idea.”

  She frowned. “Why not? I thought we had an understanding, an agreement that this is a no-strings relationship.”

  “Really? Funny, I can’t seem to recall that conversation.” Blake’s hands tightened momentarily, then relaxed. “Moriah, who are you trying to kid? I saw you with Rasha’s baby and with Henri. You’re not a no-strings type of woman.”

  She wasn’t, and the truth was hard to deny. Still, she kept her tone light. “Would a relationship with me be so bad?”

  “No. Yes. I mean—Damn.” Blake dropped her shoulders and scrubbed his hands over his face. “I can’t do this.”

  “What?”

  “Keep lying to you. Or to myself.”

  A trickle of unease slithered down her spine. “Lying?”

  “Lying to each other, as if this is going to work.” His expression was pained. “I care about you, Moriah. For God’s sake, I’m falling in love with you.”

  She felt her mouth drop open.

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