A Baby for the Doctor

by Stephanie Dees

  A Family to Call Her Own

  After becoming a foster parent to a young boy, equine therapist Jordan Conley’s life gets turned upside down. Little Levi is in need of an exceptional pediatrician, which means seeking help from Dr. Ash Sheehan—a man that, despite her heart-pounding crush, isn’t her type. Her life is horses and hay, and she can’t imagine the suit-clad doctor in a pair of cowboy boots. As a confirmed bachelor, Ash has never been nervous around women, but there’s something about Jordan that flusters him, and working closely together doesn’t help. The last thing he’s looking for is long-term romance. But the more involved he gets, the more he wishes they could stay together...always.

  Ash pulled a lollipop out of the pocket of his coat.

  Levi looked at him with suspicion, but took it and stopped crying.

  “Where were you when I was trying to dress him?” Jordan rolled her eyes at Ash and he couldn’t help but laugh.

  “Next time I’ll do better.”

  She clicked the car seat harness into place and closed the door.

  He shoved his hands into the front pockets of his jeans. “I’ll come by and check on him tomorrow. And you can call me if you need anything.”

  She nodded and her eyes lingered on his for a long second. “I’m sure we’ll be fine.”

  Jordan rounded the car and got in, turning around to give her little charge a reassuring smile. Ash watched as she drove out of the parking lot.

  Yeah, she was different. Not his type at all. So why was he so interested?

  Award-winning author Stephanie Dees lives in small-town Alabama with her pastor husband and two youngest children. A Southern girl through and through, she loves sweet tea, SEC football, corn on the cob and air-conditioning. For further information, please visit her website at stephaniedees.com.

  Books by Stephanie Dees

  Love Inspired

  Family Blessings

  The Dad Next Door

  A Baby for the Doctor

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  A BABY

  FOR THE DOCTOR

  Stephanie Dees

  Many are the plans in a person’s heart,

  but it’s the Lord’s purpose that prevails.

  —Proverbs 19:21

  Man plans, God laughs.

  —Old Yiddish Proverb

  For my favorite three-year-old—

  you’ve had my heart from the moment I saw you.

  Special thanks to Melissa Endlich and the

  editorial team at Love Inspired and to

  Melissa Jeglinski and the Knight Agency.

  I’m so thankful to be able to work with you!

  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 Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Epilogue

  Dear Reader

  Excerpt from Amish Christmas Twins by Patricia Davids

  Chapter One

  Jordan Conley’s phone rang for the third time in as many minutes. She gave her horse Bartlet one last scratch on the neck and nudged him out of the way. “Sorry, old boy. Three calls in a row is a distress signal.”

  She tossed the curry comb into the pail next to the stall and dug her phone out of her back pocket. It was her twin sister. “Claire?”

  “Oh, thank God you answered.”

  Jordan could hear the newest baby, the one they called Sweetness, screaming in the background. “What’s up?”

  “Sweetness has a double ear infection. And the principal at Kiera’s school called. She punched a girl in last period and they won’t put her on the bus. I have to pick her up right now.”

  “What do you want me to do?”

  Claire sighed. “I just got a call from the county. They need someone to pick up a three-year-old boy at the hospital. I told them twice we couldn’t do it. They just called again and said they’re going to have to keep him at the office tonight if we can’t take him.”

  “Where do I pick him up?” Already Jordan’s mind was sifting through what she needed to do to make it happen. She didn’t have time for this. Of course she didn’t. She could barely manage the horses’ upkeep much less build her therapy practice, but there was a three-year-old in a hospital with no one.

  She had a therapy session at five she could postpone. Opening the door to the tack room, she grabbed a toddler car seat from the storage closet, hauling it out the door of the barn before heading into the big house, where Claire and Joe lived with their—at least for the moment—eight kids.

  A shuffling pause and Claire was back. “Sorry. He’s in Mobile in the Children’s Unit. The resource manager said he was hurt pretty bad but didn’t give me any details. No, Georgia, no Cheerios in your ears. Anyway, I don’t know what you’re going to find when you get there.”

  Jordan rummaged through a stack of children’s pajamas and pulled out trains in a size 3T and rocket ships in 2T. She shoved them in a spare diaper bag and grabbed a couple of diapers out of a basket labeled fives. “So basically, it’s situation normal.”

  “Basically. Okay, I just pulled in at the school. I’ve gotta go. Thanks, Jordan.”

  Even before her sister hung up the phone, Jordan was zipping up the diaper bag. She grabbed an apple on the way out the back door and tossed the diaper bag into the front seat of her old truck. The car seat, with its many hooks and straps, went into the back seat.

  She’d learned a lot of new skills since she and Claire started fostering. Things like the temperature a bottle needed to be and that all diapers weren’t created equal. That little boys didn’t really care how shoes looked, only that they were “fast.”

  She’d learned that she’d never met a night terror she didn’t hate. And kids who had been through what their kids had been through were rightly scared of the dark. She learned that parenting, especially foster parenting, was exhausting, exhilarating and humbling.

  When Claire and Joe got married and Joe and his daughter moved into the big renovated plantation house, Jordan had moved to Joe’s cabin on the other side of Red Hill Farm, which she and Claire had inherited from their biological father. This setup actually worked better for her, since she was working to build her equine therapy practice, Horses, Hope and Healing. But still, with eight kids, there was always a baby to feed, homework to help with, hair to be fixed.

  Her phone buzzed again. A text from Claire.

  Forgot to tell you the caseworker is meeting you at the hospital with the paperwork. Baby’s name is Levi Wheeler.

  Yes, a name was kind of important.

  Ash is on his way, too. We were in his office when we got the call.

  Her heart stopped beating for an almost imperceptible second. Ash was the town pediatrician and her brother-in-law. And he was the most perfect human being she had ever met. She wasn’t even sure she liked him because when it came to Ash, she turned into a klutzy teenager every time she got c
lose to him. As if going through that stage once wasn’t enough.

  She pulled out of the driveway onto the highway and began to pray, one of those new skills she’d acquired. The children who came to live at Red Hill Farm brought heartbreak and grief and trauma. Since she couldn’t take it away from them, the only alternative was to walk through it with them, and to do that, she needed Jesus. That had become abundantly clear very quickly.

  Surround that little boy with Your peace, Lord. Heal his wounds, body and spirit. Let him never feel ashamed for what others did to him. Let him never feel unloved, unwanted, unworthy. He is Your child, Lord. Yours. Give me the strength and courage to be Your body, Your welcoming arms, for this child.

  There were other things that were hard, but the prayers came easy.

  At the hospital she walked through the doors, looking for the information desk, and ran into Ash. Her bags went flying, arms flailing.

  When he put his arms out to steady her, her heart started thumping in her chest. He had on a pale blue pinpoint oxford cloth shirt and a crisp white lab coat with his name embroidered on the pocket. Ashley Sheehan, MD.

  “You okay?” His summer-sky eyes were concerned.

  “Fine, thanks.” She realized she had the lapels of his formerly pristine lab coat fisted in her hands and loosened her grip with a wince. “Sorry.”

  Jordan took a step away from him and brushed off her jeans, noticing a brown smudge that she really hoped was just dirt. No wonder Ash didn’t see her as dating material. The supermodel types he went out with wouldn’t be caught dead wearing horse poop. Laughing at herself now, she leaned down to collect her stuff. “Have you seen our little patient yet?”

  “Not yet. I was waiting for you. He’s in room 314.”

  The caseworker, Reesa, a petite woman with a riot of lavender curls, was waiting for them as they got off the elevator on the third floor. “Hey, guys, they’re about to discharge Levi. He’s been treated for chemical burns, tape burns, neglect. Cops called us when they picked up the parents for cooking meth.”

  Jordan’s eyes stung. She wouldn’t cry. Not in front of the caseworker—not in front of Ash—but already she wanted to weep. “He’s three? Any family?”

  Reesa started down the hall. “Not that anyone is willing to tell us about, so there won’t be any visits, at least for now. I’ll let you know if that changes. And yes, he’s three, but he’s small. He’s also scared of me, so I’m going to let you two go in. The nurses said you can dress him and get him ready to go.”

  She stopped in front of a door. “Jordan, here’s your paperwork. He’s officially being placed with you and you will sign the discharge papers.”

  Jordan nodded. “And Claire?”

  “Let’s talk about that sometime next week.” Reesa handed her the folder and backed toward the elevator. “For now your name is on the placement letter.”

  The weight of what she’d agreed to sat heavily on her shoulders. Not knowing what to expect was always hard for her. She liked life on her own terms, and being a foster parent was pretty much the opposite of that.

  As Reesa disappeared down the hall, Jordan shoved the papers into the pocket of the diaper bag and looked at Ash. “You ready?”

  When he nodded, she pushed the door open. Room 314 was silent, shadowy. The only light on was the one over the bed, which highlighted the tiny boy. He might be three but he wasn’t even the size of the average two-year-old. Curled up in sleep, he looked more like an infant.

  She stopped halfway to the bed. He had bandages around his wrists and ankles, and gauze wrapped around his midsection. Dressed only in a diaper and covered partially by a sheet, he was unmoving in the bed.

  Ash touched her arm. “Do you want me to go first?”

  She shook her head. Levi was so still and quiet that she thought he was asleep, but when she rounded the end of the bed, she realized that his eyes were open and fixed on the window. “Hey, buddy.”

  Levi startled, but he didn’t look at her. She reached into the bag she’d so haphazardly packed and pulled out a lovey, as Claire’s kids called them. She placed it near his fingers.

  Next out of the bag was the smaller pair of pajamas, which she realized would still swallow him. But actually, that might be better over the bandages.

  “How about I take a quick look before you dress him?”

  At the sound of Ash’s deep voice, Levi started to shake, and he curled into a protective position, knees at his chin.

  Jordan longed to pick him up and bring him safely into her arms, but she knew that he wouldn’t feel safe there—not yet. Looking over at Ash and meeting his eyes, she gave him an apologetic shrug. “Maybe if you give us a few minutes.”

  Ash nodded and backed toward the door. “I saw Dr. Lowenstein at the nurses’ station. I’m going to get his thoughts on Levi’s care from here on out and take a look at the chart before he’s discharged.”

  She studied the baby in the bed. Levi was in near fetal position, his thumb in his mouth, dark brown eyes wide and terrified. She’d gentled a lot of fearful horses in her time, horses who had been mistreated and neglected. Maybe teaching this little boy that she could be trusted wasn’t so different.

  Jordan pulled the rocking chair close to the bed, close enough to touch him. The first thing she did with a skittish horse was get them used to the sound of her voice. She began to sing to Levi, a little song she’d learned as a child. He glanced at her and looked away, but he didn’t cry.

  She heard the door softly latch as Ash closed it behind him. If she could just act like a normal human being around the handsome doctor, they could be friends. Instead, she was as awkward as a seventh grader at her first boy-girl party.

  But there was no slow dancing here in room 314. Nothing to worry about. She smiled into a toddler’s troubled brown eyes. Levi was the new man in her life now.

  * * *

  Ash leaned against the wall outside the door of the hospital room where Levi Wheeler rested. Nausea churned in his stomach—not at the wounds; he’d seen worse. No, he had to make an excuse to get out of the room because the thought that the very people who were supposed to love and protect this little boy were the ones—

  Our God is a great big God and He holds us in His hand...

  Jordan’s sweet voice carried through the closed door. He didn’t know how she could sing about God right now. Where was God when that baby’s parents duct-taped him into a chair and left him there for days?

  Ash’s hand curled into a fist but he resisted the urge to punch the wall, instead choosing to walk the few feet to the nurses’ station. “Levi Wheeler?”

  The nurse selected the chart and handed it across the counter. “I haven’t seen you in a while, Dr. Sheehan. You have time for a coffee? I’ve got a break coming up.”

  Flashing the smile was automatic. “I don’t today. Rain check?”

  He looked over the notes that Dr. Lowenstein had left in Levi’s chart and glanced back at the nurse. “You have his discharge papers ready?”

  “Yes, sir.” The pretty blonde looked up at him from under her lashes.

  He sighed and then forced the appropriate words. “Thanks, Amber. Let’s see if we can get this young man out of the hospital.”

  She squeezed his arm as she walked by him. He stabbed his fingers through his hair, annoyed in spite of himself. His siblings were always making fun of him for his dimples, blond hair and blue eyes. And sure, in high school and college, he’d loved the attention from the ladies. Now it was just a distraction.

  He didn’t want someone who liked him for his looks. He wanted to spend time with someone who was interested in what he thought, what he cared about. He would never tell his brother, Joe, this, but he wanted a soul mate, like Joe had found in Claire.

  He sighed. Maybe it was best that he hadn’t found that. Marriag
e and family might work for Joe, but it wasn’t in the cards for him. He pushed open the door to little Levi’s room.

  Jordan had Levi dressed in navy blue fleece pajamas with rockets and moons on them. The toddler’s big brown eyes, his eyelashes wet from tears, met Ash’s for one long moment before he stared out the window again.

  “He let you dress him. I didn’t hear any screams.”

  She shook her head. “He wasn’t happy about it, but he did let me touch him. Baby steps, I guess.”

  As Nurse Amber went through the discharge papers with Jordan, Ash made sure to stay close to the door, away from where his presence might upset Levi. Other than the terrified reaction when Ash had gotten close to the bed, the little boy had shown no interest in anything and had made no sound at all. The hospital had done some preliminary evaluations, but no one could tell at this point how extensive the damage to Levi might be.

  Amber handed Jordan a stack of prescriptions and then said, “Okay, sign here and you’re good to go.”

  When the orderly rolled the wheelchair into the room, Levi looked toward it, brown eyes going wide. As the orderly brought it closer, Levi began to whimper. And when Amber reached for him to put him in it, the little boy lost it.

  He screamed and scratched, jerking away from the nurse until she gave in and dropped him back onto the mattress, where he collapsed, sobbing.

  Jordan stepped toward the baby, putting herself between him and the wheelchair. “Please take that out of here. Now.”

  The orderly left without a word.

  Jordan nailed Amber with a look. “I know it’s against hospital policy but I’m going to carry him out. The chair is obviously terrifying to him and I can’t let him be more traumatized.”

  She held her arms out to Levi, whose huge waif eyes were full of dark fear. “Come on, buddy, let’s get out of here. No chair. Just you and me.”

  He didn’t move. Ash was pretty certain that she was going to have to carry him out kicking and screaming, but suddenly, the injured toddler threw himself into her arms.