by Laura Iding
“Be careful.” Why did boys always want to play with weapons? Gabe figured he must have done the same thing at JT’s age, but it was amazing how almost anything he gave the boy to play with ended up as a sword, a knife or a gun, no matter how hard he tried to discourage it. Maybe JT could use the sword to kill the wild animals in his dreams. He pressed a kiss on the top of JT’s head. “All right, then. I’ll see you later, buddy.”
“Bye, Uncle Gabe.” JT’s face was relaxed and smiling, making him feel better about going back to work. As he strode to his car, he noticed he’d barely have time to wolf down a quick sandwich before seeing patients. But the potential indigestion from eating too fast was worth taking the time to calm JT’s fears.
Too bad he hadn’t been able to ask Holly out for dinner, but leaving JT wasn’t an option. The boy’s emotional status was still too fragile. Would probably be too fragile for a long time to come.
Yet after meeting Holly again that morning, he couldn’t get her out of his mind. Interesting how she’d assumed he’d left because of the moment he’d sensed she’d been about to kiss him when in reality it had been his own response he’d run from. She couldn’t know how close he’d come to crossing the line that night, too. Stepping back from her had been one of the hardest things he’d ever had to do.
Tom had been right during their argument on his wedding day. He had wanted Holly for himself. But that was then, and things had changed. He wasn’t just a single guy anymore, he had JT to think about now. The boy needed a home, stability. Besides, he wasn’t still hung up on Holly.
He’d moved on with his life, had been engaged to marry Jennifer before Claire had died. Their engagement had been broken off when he’d discovered that she hadn’t been at all willing to take JT in as their adopted son. She’d kept arguing that they needed to find JT’s real father, something he was trying to do. His plan all along, even once they found JT’s biological father, was to fight for sole custody of JT.
Forced to make a choice between Jennifer and JT, his young nephew had won hands down. And if the reality of living with a young boy day in and day out was overwhelming, he’d have to learn to deal with it.
He caught a glimpse of Holly leaving the ED and his pulse kicked up in awareness. He took a deep breath, trying to ignore his body’s reaction, telling himself it was only physical because he hadn’t been with a woman since Jennifer had walked out on him.
There were more important things to worry about than the last time he’d gone out with a woman. Right now, JT had to come first.
With everything that had happened in the past, he knew better than anyone that he and Holly could never be more than friends.
Holly spent the rest of the afternoon trying to keep her mind off Gabe and figuring out how to balance the stat calls with the scheduled patients she needed to see. At three-thirty, her mother called to let her know she was finished with dialysis. Holly had just finished seeing her last patient, so she readily agreed to drive her mother home.
The outpatient dialysis unit wasn’t far from Children’s Medical Center, so it didn’t take her long to get there. She tucked her mother into the passenger seat, and then headed to her mother’s house.
Hemodialysis treatments usually left her mother feeling exhausted, but that didn’t stop her from asking questions. “How was your first day at work?”
“Pretty good. Busy,” Holly answered as she negotiated rush-hour traffic. She cast her mother a quick glance. “I really like my job. I have many interesting cases.”
“I’m glad.” Her mother smiled faintly, her face pale. “I hope I didn’t take you away from anything important.”
She thought of Mark, the young boy whose condition was still so tenuous. “No, you didn’t. Although I do have a very sick young man in the PICU.”
“I’m sure you’ll help make him better.” Despite her mother’s reassuring tone, deep lines of fatigue bracketed her mouth. For a moment Holly felt a flash of resentment toward her father. Her father had been Dr. Kendall Davidson, the chief of neurosurgery and he’d died several years ago after a long night of surgery. Her parents had divorced when she’d still been in high school, a traumatic event when she’d discovered her father had been cheating on her mother. When his young lover had become pregnant, he’d filed for divorce.
She’d made peace with her past, except for rare moments like this, when resentment still burned. How ironic that by marrying Tom she’d made the same mistake her mother had.
Tom had seemed to want the same things she did, a loving home and family. Children in particular were important to her, she hadn’t wanted to put her kids through a painful divorce like she’d experienced.
After Kayla was stillborn, Holly had known there wasn’t anything left of her marriage to save. Wisely, Tom hadn’t bothered to put up a fight. To his credit, he’d made the divorce proceedings as painless as possible.
Pushing the memory aside, she pulled into her mother’s driveway and brought the car to a halt. After getting sick, her mother had finally given up her mausoleum of a house to move into the much smaller, more practical home located closer to the hospital. So close she could easily take a care-van to her dialysis appointments. Holly hurried around to open the car door. “Here, let me help you.”
Her mother leaned heavily on her arm as Holly guided her inside. After she’d got her mother settled on the sofa, covered in a warm, wool blanket, she went into the kitchen and threw together a light meal of scrambled eggs and toast, carrying everything out on a tray.
“Thanks, Holly.” Her mother’s grateful tone made her feel guilty for leaving during those years she’d been married to Tom. It was good that she’d come back home. Obviously her mother needed her.
“You’re welcome.” She leaned over to give her mother a gentle hug. “Is there anything else you need before I go?”
“No, thanks, dear.”
“All right, then. Call my cell if you need me.” Holly let herself out of the house, wondering if the time would come that her mother might need more full-time care. If so, she’d do her best to take care of her.
Family was important, even if her father and Tom hadn’t thought so.
Her pager went off and she paused in the driveway to glance at the display. The message wasn’t from work, as she’d expected, but rather from Gabe.
Please, call me when you have a minute, Gabe. He’d left his number on the text message too.
Was he still at work? Had something happened to Mark? With a frown, she flipped open her cellphone and dialed his number.
“Hello?”
“Gabe? It’s Holly. What’s wrong?”
“I picked up JT from his pre-school and something just doesn’t seem right. He’s running a low-grade fever and has chills.” Gabe sounded uncertain, not at all like his usual self. “I don’t think it’s serious, but I could use a second, unbiased opinion.” He paused and then added, “If you’re not too busy.”
She hesitated for the barest fraction of a second before she realized she was allowing her personal need to stay away from him to interfere with taking care of a sick child.
How could she turn him down? After all, she’d offered her help. “Of course I’m not too busy. I’ll be right there.”
CHAPTER THREE
HOLLY wasn’t sure what to expect when she arrived at Gabe’s house. Luckily, his directions had been easy to follow, but when he opened the door before she had a chance to knock, it was clear his usual calm composure had deserted him. He wore a haggard expression and his brown hair stood on end, as if he’d raked his fingers through it non-stop for the past few hours.
“Thanks for coming over.” Gabe stepped back to allow her to come in. “I’m pretty sure JT just has a virus, but I want to make sure I’m not missing something, like strep. I’ve peered down his throat so many times I’m starting to doubt myself.”
“That’s because you’re thinking like a parent, not like a doctor.” She’d seen plenty of stressed parents and those wi
th medical backgrounds weren’t any different.
“Yeah, maybe.” He sighed and scrubbed a hand over his jaw. “I know I’m probably overreacting, but this is the first time JT’s been sick.”
“The first time, ever?” She was taken aback by the news, considering the boy was five years old. Most kids at least had the occasional ear infection or bout of flu before the age of five. “I’m surprised.”
She barely had time to notice the warm, welcoming earth tones of his living room before he dragged her down the hall to his son’s room. “I’d like you to take a look at him. My first instinct was to treat him with a pain med and wait to see how he does overnight, but he’s been so listless I’ve started to doubt my objectivity. Be honest. Tell me if you think I should take him into the clinic.”
“All right.” Odd, it wasn’t at all like Gabe to doubt himself. He was after all board certified in emergency medicine. Taking care of sick kids was his specialty.
But, then again, she’d made similar mistakes with horrible consequences. Assuming her cramping pains during her pregnancy had been from stress and not from placenta previa, a condition where the placenta broke away from the wall of the uterus prematurely. She’d downplayed her situation and had lost her daughter as a result.
Even if she had gone to seek help earlier, there really hadn’t been a chance of saving the baby, not at only twenty-five weeks gestation. Still, her medical knowledge hadn’t helped her then.
Gabe’s might not be helping him now either.
He pushed open the door to a small, cozy bedroom. “JT? Hey, buddy, this is Dr. Holly. I’ve asked her to take a look at you.”
“Hi, JT.” She approached the boy, who was curled up on the bed.
“Hi.” His dark blue eyes, so much like Gabe’s, stared up at her. “I don’t feel so good.”
“So I hear.” She sat on the edge of his bed, noticing his face was flushed. She offered a reassuring smile. “Does anything hurt you?”
“My head hurts.”
“Hmm. How about your throat?” She felt his forehead, noting he was indeed running a slight fever but not one that was dangerously high. She trailed her fingers down to his throat. No swollen glands from what she could tell. “Can you open wide for me?”
Obediently he opened his mouth. “Ah-h-h.”
Using her penlight, she peered down his throat. No sign of any infection at all, from what she could see. Although maybe it was too early to tell. “Great job. How about your tummy? Does that hurt?” She gently palpated JT’s abdomen, and he didn’t wince, neither did she find any enlargement of his liver.
“No, just my head. The lights are too bright.”
Hmm. Strange that he would have photosensitivity. She spent another minute or so examining him, but didn’t find anything seriously wrong. His pupils were equal and reactive. Yet, like Gabe, she sensed something just wasn’t quite right. She glanced back at Gabe, who hovered over her shoulder. “You treated his fever?”
“Yeah, I gave him a dose of pediatric pain med right before you came over.”
“Good.” JT closed his eyes, either because the light was too bright or he was simply tired and falling asleep.
“He was fine at noon when I came home for lunch,” Gabe muttered. “Suddenly I pick him up from his pre-school class and he’s running a fever and not acting at all like his usual self.”
“I’m sure it’s just a virus,” she assured him.
“So you don’t think I need to take him in?” Gabe asked.
She hesitated for a moment, and then shook her head. “No, I think I’d wait and watch him. If his headache persists tomorrow, though, I’d take him in. Kids do get headaches with fevers.” She rested her palm against JT’s flushed cheek for a moment, thinking how young and innocent he looked.
JT’s eyelids fluttered open. “You’re pretty,” he murmured.
His sweet expression tugged at her heart. It was no secret where the boy had gotten his charm. “Thank you.”
She glanced up to find Gabe watching her intently.
“JT obviously has good taste,” he murmured in a low tone.
Raising a brow, she didn’t try to come up with a response. Since JT was starting to doze off, she gently stood and tiptoed out of the room. Gabe followed her, softly closing JT’s door behind him.
By mutual consent, they moved into the living room so they wouldn’t wake him. Gabe’s expression held chagrin. “I suppose you think I’m an idiot for calling you over.”
“Not at all.” Holly subtly looked for pictures of JT’s mother, but didn’t find any. “I’m sure it’s not easy being a single parent.”
“No, it’s not.” Gabe dropped onto the sofa with a sigh. “I don’t know what got into me, but suddenly I was staring down at him, thinking the worst. And then I thought of how stupid I’d look if I took him in for nothing. But if you hadn’t answered your page, I probably would have risked it.”
“Hey, it’s all right. I really don’t mind.” She sat in the matching love seat across from him. “I know it’s none of my business, but where is JT’s mother?”
Gabe stared at his hands for a long minute, before lifting his head, his eyes dark with pain. “She died in a car crash less than five weeks ago.”
“How awful,” she murmured, thinking it was a good thing JT had someone like Gabe as his father.
“Yeah, it’s been a little rough, more so for JT.” Gabe abruptly stood. “Are you hungry? I made some spaghetti for dinner but JT wasn’t hungry. The least I can do is feed you for your trouble.”
His abrupt change of subject caught her off guard, but hearing that JT’s mother had died so recently she supposed she couldn’t blame him for not wanting to talk about it.
Gabe headed for the kitchen, leaving her little choice but to follow him. She knew being here with him was like tempting fate to repeat itself, but the spicy garlic and oregano scents drew her forward.
“Have a seat.” Gabe waved at the small, oak kitchen table. “This will only take a few minutes to warm up.”
Her stomach chose that moment to rumble loud enough for Gabe to hear. Leaving now that he knew she was famished would be too obvious, so she sat. “Guess I am a bit hungry after all,” she admitted with a sheepish smile.
Gabe flashed a grin and opened his fridge. “Let’s see, I really wish I had a bottle of fine Italian wine to offer you, but it seems all I have at the moment are two of JT’s favorites, grape juice or milk. Take your pick.”
She laughed. “Gosh, tough decision. I’ll choose milk.”
“Milk it is.” He pulled out the container and filled up a large glass, setting it in front of her. “The pasta should be done in a few minutes. At least I have home-made garlic bread.”
The butter and garlic scent was already filling the kitchen, mingling with the zesty spaghetti sauce. “Smells delicious. I had no idea you could cook.”
“Pure necessity for two bachelors living on their own.” Gabe stirred the sauce and then pulled out two plates. He dished out the pasta and sauce, adding a large chunk of fresh garlic bread to each serving.
Her mouth was watering as he set down her plate and then sat across from her. He lifted his milk glass and touched the rim to hers in a quick toast. “Thanks, Holly. I appreciate you coming to my rescue.”
She rolled her eyes in exasperation before taking a sip of her milk, suddenly glad they weren’t drinking anything stronger. The last time she’d shared a few drinks with Gabe she’d foolishly attempted to kiss him. “You and JT would have been fine. The worst thing that might have happened is that you’d have taken JT to the clinic for nothing more than a virus.”
“Maybe,” he conceded, his gaze holding hers. “But it was still nice to have someone else to talk to.”
The poignant sadness lurking in his eyes made her wonder if Gabe was still in love with JT’s mother. He’d claimed he wasn’t married, but did that mean they were divorced? Or was he a widower of only a month? If so, all the more reason to keep her dis
tance from him emotionally. Gabe was in no position to start a relationship, even if she was willing to risk one.
Which she wasn’t.
“Eat,” he urged.
The sooner she ate, the sooner she could leave. She dug in, nearly closing her eyes in ecstasy when the taste of the tangy tomato sauce exploded in her mouth. “Mmm. This is divine.”
“Glad you like it.” Gabe grinned, and instantly the flash of sorrow was gone. “It’s an old family recipe from my mother’s side. She’s a great Italian cook.”
She widened her eyes in surprise. “I didn’t know your mother was Italian.”
“Absolutely.” Gabe gestured with his fork. “Her maiden name is Fanelli. She’s living with her new husband down in Florida.”
“And your dad?” she asked, before she could think.
His expression closed. “He’s been out of the picture for a long time.”
“I’m sorry.” She reached for his hand, realizing she’d touched a nerve. Yet it was a bit surprising to realize she and Gabe had something in common. Apparently neither of them had been close to their fathers.
He held her hand in his for a long minute. Her heart thudded in her chest as the light-hearted mood turned into something more serious.
“Uncle Gabe?” JT’s plaintive cry broke the moment. “My tummy hurts.”
“Uh-oh, maybe he’s going to throw up.” Gabe jumped up from his seat at the table. “I’ll be right back.”
Confused, she sat back in her seat, staring after Gabe as he disappeared down the hall to JT’s room.
Uncle Gabe? She’d assumed JT must be his son, but obviously the boy was really his nephew. Still, he was caring for JT, so he must have custody. She knew she should admire the close bond they shared, but couldn’t help feeling resentful.
Somehow it didn’t seem fair, that Gabe had the joy of love and caring for JT while she’d lost her daughter.