She dutifully nodded, a side of Lizzie he hadn’t seen before. Then it occurred to him that there was more to say; there were more ways he could help her, since they lived under the same roof. “Furthermore, if Flora wakes you more than once a night, I’ll expect you to come and get me. Not that I can nurse her or anything, but I can walk a floor just as well as you, I suspect. We can share the insomnia between us, then it won’t be so bad. And if that helps my new doctor look more alive and keeps her head about her on the job, then I’m happy to do it.”
The grateful expression on her perfectly lovely face was hard to resist, but he kept his eyes on the road after a brief peek. He’d never once offered to help with Eddie, Victoria’s five-year-old son. Probably because the kid couldn’t stand him, and to be honest the feeling was, well, mutual. Victoria had overindulged him and the boy thought he was the center of the universe. But a three-month-old baby like Flora needed to feel cared for and soothed.
“I can’t ask you to lose sleep, too,” she said.
“You’re not asking me anything. I’m telling you our plan to get both of us through the next few weeks. Men are task oriented, in case you hadn’t noticed. That’s all.”
“You’re serious, aren’t you?”
“You bet I am. Oh, and while I’m on a roll here, let’s make those staff meetings back at the ranch.” He’d been going to the hospital to visit his father every night after work, but Gretchen had kept him informed about a few things back home. “You’ve been having dinner in your room, and that’s fine for now, but since my father is doing so well, he might be coming home soon. They’ve agreed to send daily home-health caregivers for the initial week, Gretchen has agreed to sleep over for the first couple of weeks, and we’ll see how it goes from there. But my point is, once he’s home, we should all take dinner together. He’d want it that way, and, out of respect for him, it’s the least we can do. And that includes you. Then after dinner you and I can retire to the library to discuss medical business.”
“What about Flora?”
He’d expected a huge protest, but got a maternal-minded question instead, which proved she was a better mother than she gave herself credit for.
“Bring her with. Or let Gretchen bathe her and put her to bed. You figure that out. Bottom line, we need to get on with the job of making you the best resident material out there so you won’t sit out another moment from your medical career.”
He figured putting it that way she couldn’t possibly argue with him.
“Okay. Thanks. I’m in.” Amazingly his plan had worked. “Let’s make this a miniresident program. Teach me everything you can. It’s the best thing for me and the baby, and hopefully your father will benefit from the family dinners as much as I will. Now I know I made the right decision coming here.” She beamed.
Cole smiled at the road, thinking his crazy plan had actually worked. Then a chill slipped down his spine at the implications—Lizzie Silva was about to become a part of what was left of his family. Was he ready for that?
At least it was only for the next few weeks. If growing up and surviving medical school, residency and two fellowships had taught him anything, it was to take each huge project one single step after another, never looking at the big overwhelming picture, but concentrating on every small achievement along the way. The days and weeks would click off quickly over the next few weeks, and soon his job would be over with Lizzie. If he worked it right, she’d find a resident placement. She and Flora would pack up and leave once Trevor and Julie returned home, and his life would finally get back to how it was supposed to be.
Traveling. Teaching. Working hard. Uncomplicated by personal relationships.
Alone.
He pulled into the clinic parking lot wondering what in the hell he’d just accomplished, and, since he hadn’t a clue, he screwed up his face in confusion. Why did he suddenly feel he was getting the short end of the stick in this clever plan?
*
Thirty minutes later, after seeing her first patient of the day, Lizzie appeared at Cole’s office door.
“I’ve got a question.” She stood smack in the middle of the frame, neither stepping inside nor remaining in the hallway, her stethoscope draped like a shawl over her shoulders, dark hair pulled into a ponytail and piled high on her head.
“Okay, shoot.” He stopped typing his notes on the laptop to give his undivided attention, and it never took much for him to give Lizzie Silva all of his attention. Basically, all she had to do was show up and, boom, he was all eyes and ears.
“Mrs. Ruth Overmoe is in my exam room complaining of ongoing bloating and nausea unrelieved with over-the-counter gas and acid medicine for a few weeks now. I have a hunch it’s more than that. She mentioned today’s weight was a few pounds more than usual and attributed that to the bloating. No dietary changes. No history of heart disease. What do you think about my running a CHF workup on her?”
“Are her ankles swollen?”
“Not much, and she says they’ve been that way for years. The belly bloating is the new issue.”
“Any signs of JVD?”
“Nope, her jugular veins don’t look distended.”
“What do you propose for the workup?” It was a test, yes, but he needed to make sure she didn’t miss any labs or other tests that might be useful to make an initial diagnosis.
“CBC, lytes, UA, BUN, FBS, EKG.”
“Don’t forget liver-function tests and get a chest X-ray.”
“Yes, that’s a given. Too soon for natriuretic peptide levels?”
“Let’s see what we find first with these studies,” he said. As she thought, her lips puckered and smoothed, stealing his undivided attention, nearly making him lose his medical train of thought.
“Got it.” She smiled and turned to leave.
“Good find,” he said, pleased with her level head and solid medical background. From over her shoulder, as she walked away, she flashed him a wide smile, one that reeked of confidence and pride. “I’ll expect a full report on congestive heart-failure symptoms exclusive to women at our first meeting.”
“You got it,” she said without turning around, unfazed by his challenge.
Cole wasn’t sure how helpful these after-dinner sessions would be for Lizzie, but, as for him, he definitely looked forward to them.
*
“Here’s your girl,” Gretchen said, making her daily clinic entrance exactly at 11:30 a.m. in Lizzie’s office the following Friday morning.
“Thank you!” Excited to see Flora, Lizzie reached out and took her baby into her arms. In one short week, it had quickly become the highlight of her work day. Whether sensing her mother or smelling milk was nearby, the child opened her eyes, squirmed and soon fussed. “Oh, honey, I miss you so much.” She kissed her baby’s cheek, which was growing chubbier by the day, and cuddled her close to her body. “Mommy loves you.”
Gretchen had been nothing short of a godsend these past couple of weeks. She glanced up at the older woman in deep appreciation. “You know, since you started giving her the evening bath she has really settled down at night. It seems her colic may have passed.”
“I have a little trick I remember from when I had my babies. Not that they’ve given me any grandbabies to try it out on or anything, but that’s an issue for another day.” Gretchen gave Lizzie her pretend disgusted expression. Having chatted a lot since arriving at Circle M Ranch, Lizzie had learned how much the woman longed for grandchildren, but neither of her daughters were married. “I use an old rubber water bottle filled with warm water and lay it across her tummy after her bath. Then, when I put her down, I give her a pacifier to suck on.”
“That’s a great idea, and it certainly helps Flora settle down faster,” Lizzie said as she unbuttoned her blouse and opened the nursing-bra flap, then watched with delight as Flora nuzzled close to nurse.
“I think she senses you’re settling down, too.”
“What do you mean?”
“You’ve co
me a long way since arriving at the ranch. You were one edgy and nervous lady at first. Now we’ve all gotten into a comfortable routine, and Flora must sense it. Babies love routines.”
“You may have a point.”
“Well, the test will be this Sunday when Tiberius comes home. If anything can disrupt the peace, he will.”
“Have you been to see him?” Flora was eagerly nursing, and, though it was always great to have alone time with her, today Lizzie chose to use the time to quiz Gretchen.
“A couple of times. He’s doing really well, gets most sentences out the way he wants, but once in a while he can’t quite express himself, and it bugs the holy hell out of him.” Gretchen’s eyes widened. “Oh, pardon me for cussing in front of the baby.”
“I don’t think she noticed.” Lizzie grinned, thinking how terrible she’d been the first few weeks alone with her colicky baby. Not that she’d cussed at her precious one, no, but she’d been so exhausted and frazzled that she’d been short with a lot of people, some who had even been trying to help her. And sometimes, feeling under a pressure cooker, she’d revert to cussing a blue streak like when she’d been a rebellious teenager. Realizing those days seemed to be behind her, or maybe it mostly had to do with nursing Flora, but whatever the reason, she completely relaxed and slipped into the moment. Life was good. For now. Two weeks ago it had been like living a nightmare in Boston with zero prospects, staying in that dark and tiny single-room apartment after quitting that horrible job.
Now she had a new job and a great place to live, she enjoyed her work and the one-on-one mentoring time with her boss, and she owed it all to the big handsome Wyoming hunk, Cole.
“I’ll leave you two alone now,” Gretchen said, tiptoeing toward the door. “Be back at twelve-thirty.”
“Thank you,” Lizzie said, glancing at her contented baby then making a blanket statement for everything good in her life in the right here and now, kind of like saying grace and meaning it with all of her heart. “I can’t thank you enough,” she whispered, and closed her eyes.
*
By the end of Lizzie’s second week at Circle M, Cole realized that Lizzie hadn’t knocked on his door once in the middle of the night. Could bringing Flora for midday nursing have helped fine-tune the baby’s schedule? He shook his head no. He’d taken the time to read up on colic in babies and knew that, though the problem still remained mostly a mystery, the biggest help turned out to be time. Sometime around three or four months, except for extreme cases, the colic issue seemed to cure itself. Whether it was a baby’s metabolism finally figuring things out, or all the mother’s efforts to avoid spicy foods and caffeine paying off—whatever the reason, or maybe for no reason at all—sometimes the problem simply disappeared.
He put his hands behind his head and turned out the bedside lamp, then closed his eyes. Instead of letting himself fall asleep, he remembered Lizzie’s luscious expressions earlier as she’d listened while he went over the day’s list of patients and quizzed her on each one. Thinking of her inquisitive green eyes, and how her mouth pouted slightly while she thought, assured he wouldn’t find sleep in his near future. Crying baby or no crying baby, Flora wasn’t the source of his insomnia. His father’s health wasn’t either. Or the huge cardiac conference he was missing in NYC this weekend, nor was the running of the Cattleman Bluff Medical Clinic with its outdated computer hardware. No. The source of his insomnia was simple to identify—Lizzie Silva.
CHAPTER SIX
COLE BROUGHT TIBERIUS home Sunday midafternoon, and Lizzie stood in the entryway. She waited for him to come through the door while wearing Flora in a front-facing baby carrier, the child’s current favorite place to watch the world. Plus it was an online tip as another way to help decrease colic in babies.
The older man begrudgingly used his quad cane to stabilize himself as he made the trek from the parked car to the porch. His wild mane looked whiter than she’d remembered, but someone, most likely his nurse, had done battle with it and his hair lay somewhat flat against his head. Cole was directly behind him watching his every step. He obviously played down the fact he was within catching distance in case his father lost his footing or anything. Tiberius would throw a fit if he caught on, so he stayed a foot or two back and allowed his father to be independent. Once they crossed the wide porch, Cole shot ahead to open the front door for him.
“I can do it,” Tiberius said, grumpily. “I’m not an invalid.” Then quietly he muttered, “Yet.”
“Just trying to be helpful, Dad.” For that comment, Cole received an impatient squint, and Lizzie ached for him. “Gretchen, have you got something for Dad to eat?”
“Blasted hospital food is worse than airplane food.” More grumbling from Mr. Cheerful. Then he noticed Lizzie and Flora, and his irritated expression softened a little. “Well, look who’s still here. I thought you’d have high-tailed it back to Boston by now.” He walked toward her, and she was about to answer him, but Mr. Montgomery hung a left before she could think of a good comeback—which was unusual for her—heading for his chair in the living room. She suspected he recognized a kindred spirit in her, one blustery phony to another. At least that was how she saw him, all bark yet tenderhearted. With Tiberius clearly in a sassy mood, she followed his lead.
“You can’t get rid of me that easily, Mr. Montgomery.” Lizzie understood the best way to deal with a grump was to be grumpy right back. “You’ve inherited us for another four weeks, so just get used to it.” She followed him, and beat him to his chair, then puffed the pillow tucked into the corner of the arm rest. He sat, hanging on to his annoyed expression, but he couldn’t fool her, because, like a thin veil, right behind the grouchy gaze was a “happy to see you, too” glint.
“Weren’t you the one who saved my life?”
She sputtered a laugh. “Hardly. We all did our part, and you turned out to be stubborn enough not to let anything too bad happen anyway.”
He sat with a thud. “How do you know me so well?”
“Maybe you’re the grandfather I never had.” Which set a whole other connotation into place—but the last thing she’d ever think of Cole as was a father, not with the way she’d already developed a crush on him. True, he was fourteen years older than her; she’d done the math. They’d grown up in different generations, he was a Gen X and she was a Gen Y—a millennial. She didn’t write letters or listen to voice mail. She didn’t know what the world was like before computers took over. Their taste in music had to be light years different. But sometimes she fantasized about him.
Realistically, besides practicing medicine, what did they have in common? Yet, each day she felt more drawn to him because of his calm, his maturity, his knowledge…not to mention his excellent looks and how he was sexy without even realizing it. She especially liked that. She sighed as she repositioned the pillow exactly where Tiberius pointed behind his back, forcing her thoughts back on track.
“No, thanks. I’ve already got a grandson. James is enough.”
“Now you’re just hurting my feelings,” she said.
“Didn’t mean to do that.” The sincerity in his eyes nearly bowled her over. “I’m still cranky from being stuck in the hospital for a couple of weeks. Torture. Pure torture.”
“Can I get you anything?” she said, a sudden puddle of compassion.
At that moment, Gretchen appeared in the doorway with a tray of food in her hands. Cole rushed to find and open a TV tray to set it on. With three people and a baby circling his favorite chair, Tiberius protested. “Back off, folks, I’m not going to croak today or any day this week. Give me some breathing room, would you?”
Watching to make sure he had use of both hands, without residual weakness on the right, Lizzie stepped back and passed a sheepish glance at Cole. He raised his dark brows in warning, obviously implying, Be prepared—you ain’t seen nothin’ yet. She liked passing secret messages with Cole, especially since it meant she got to look into those handsomely wise eyes.
“
I think I’ll take Flora for a walk,” she said, heeding his warning, deciding to leave Tiberius to Cole and Gretchen. Besides, it was a beautiful warm and sunny afternoon, and if she timed it right she could make it all the way out to the ash and maple-tree grove with the pond before Flora’s next nursing was due. She could sit in the shade in privacy and enjoy Wyoming’s big sky and abundant nature, and feeding her baby all at once. Which reminded her she was hungry, too. She bent her knees, since bending at the waist was impossible with the baby carrier, and snatched half of Tiberius’s roast beef and cheddar cheese sandwich. “Mind if we share?” She passed him a mischievous look, raised her brows, and, when she had his full attention, took a big bite before he could utter a word.
The corner of his wrinkled mouth lifted in a near smile. “Wouldn’t want to rob a woman of nourishment. But don’t even think about touching that gingerbread cookie.”
“Not even half?” she said, her mouth filled with wheat-bread sandwich.
“Don’t push it, girlie-girl.” He feigned a grouchy glance, and she gave him a genuine smile, because she really liked the old guy, and she suspected he liked her just as much. Then, with the smile lingering on her lips, her gaze settled on Cole, who watched the odd interaction between his father and the newest boarder at the ranch. A tiny hiss and sizzle snaked down her chest as she walked out of the living room and into the great outdoors where the sun warmed all of her, not just the hot, fluttering part planted there by Cole.
*
Later, after nursing Flora and dozing off to sleep for a few minutes, Lizzie wandered back to the ranch and the stables. She’d already figured out that Flora loved to see the big horses.
“You ever want to take a ride, just let me know.” Cole surprised her from behind.
She turned away from petting the big reddish-brown horse. “I’ve never been on a horse, wouldn’t know what to do.”
“I’d be happy to teach you. All you have to do is ask.” Their gazes met and held firm, and she wondered if he’d just offered something more than horseback-riding lessons. Nah, she’d probably read too much into that supersexy gaze.
Father for Her Newborn Baby (Cowboys, Doctors...Daddies) Page 6