White Christmas For The Single Mom (Christmas Miracles In Maternity #3)

by Susanne Hampton

  In a perfect world she would have nothing to do with him once he had finished treating Bea. But she also knew that they didn’t live in a perfect world. And not seeing Charlie Warren again wasn’t possible. They would be consulting on the high-risk patient until the birth of the four babies.

  And she was well aware that, after challenging her parenting, he would shortly be challenging her treatment plan. There was no way this working relationship was going to run smoothly. And she doubted with his attitude he intended to play nicely.

  ‘I had additional house calls this morning as I needed to cover another OBGYN’s patients. He’s down with the winter virus that swept through Teddy’s. With both patient loads it look longer than I anticipated, but point taken. I should have called in.’

  Juliet couldn’t help but notice him staring at her. It was a curious stare, no longer angry or accusing.

  ‘I understand covering for ill colleagues happens but a text would have been prudent,’ she continued, ignoring his reaction, suspecting like everyone else he was looking at her as if she weren’t old enough to be a surgical specialist. She had grown tired of that look and in Dr Warren’s case she wasn’t about to give him any leeway. Nor was she about to give her unexpected reaction to him any acknowledgement. Her tone was brittle but with his masculinity hovering around eleven out of ten he was making it difficult not to be a little self-conscious despite her ire.

  ‘We can speak further about my delay later, Dr Turner, but let’s get Bea into Radiography and ascertain the extent of the fracture,’ Charlie announced, breaking her train of thought.

  Juliet did not respond to Charlie as she wasn’t sure what exactly she would say. Her equilibrium was beyond ruffled and she was struggling to keep her thoughts on track. She returned her attention to Bea, and stroked her daughter’s brow. ‘Mummy and the doctor will be taking you on this special bed to have that picture now. And then if the doctor is right and you have broken the bone in your arm then you will have a cast put on until it’s all healed.’

  ‘What’th that?’

  ‘You know when Billy, the little boy from playgroup, fell over last year and he had a bright blue plaster on his arm? And everyone drew pictures on it with crayons? That’s a cast.’

  Bea nodded. ‘I drew a star and a moon.’

  ‘That’s right, and it was a very beautiful star and moon.’

  ‘Can I take it off? Billy couldn’t take it off.’

  ‘No, you won’t be able to take it off but it won’t be too uncomfortable,’ Charlie chimed in with a voice that Juliet noticed had suddenly warmed. She wasn’t sure if that warmth was directed at Bea alone or if he was attempting to be nice to Juliet as well. ‘There’s a soft bit inside and a hard layer outside that stops your arm from moving so that it can heal.’

  Juliet turned back to face Charlie to ask another question and immediately wished she hadn’t. He had moved closer and his face was only inches from her. His cologne was subtle and very masculine. She tried to keep the same professional demeanour but dropped her eyes, refusing to keep the courtesy of eye contact for two reasons. One, she was still fuming and waiting for an apology that she doubted she would ever receive, and, two, she didn’t want to risk falling into the dark blue pools that were more blue than any she had ever seen before. She didn’t want to forgive him for his appalling behaviour. Without all of the facts he had jumped to a conclusion that was unjust. But her hormones were overriding her good sense. It was completely out of character for her. She was angry and she never paid attention to men, good-looking or not. And she would be damned if she would allow it to happen that day. Or any day in the future.

  She quickly decided she didn’t want to hear an apology from Charlie. If one was not offered it would mean that she could then remain furious with good reason, keep the man at arm’s length and her mettle would not be tested. If he made amends, he might prove to be a distraction on some level that she didn’t want. Although she knew her sensible side would win, she didn’t want to waste any time on some ridiculous internal battle of hormones versus logic. Particularly when she had a very real battle to fight with the very same man.

  Coughing, she cleared her throat in an attempt to gain some composure. Dr Warren’s nearness was, for some inexplicable reason, threatening to awaken something in Juliet she had buried a long time ago. And it didn’t need digging up now. That part of her life was over. Perhaps it was just sleep deprivation, she wondered. She had not travelled for so many hours straight before either. Nor had her daughter ever suffered an injury of that nature. It had to be the series of events stacked against her that was messing with her logic. Making her emotions a little unstable. It wasn’t her. It definitely had to be the combination of factors, she decided, not Charlie Warren himself. Suddenly she had everything back in perspective, the way she liked it. Charlie Warren was her daughter’s doctor and her potential nemesis.

  ‘Will you be using fibreglass?’ she asked, quieting any sign of emotion. Her heart was no longer beating madly and the butterflies were one by one exiting her stomach. She was proud of herself for so quickly once again gaining control of the situation. Although she was still disturbed the situation had presented in the first place.

  Jet lag, she quickly told herself. Definitely jet lag.

  ‘If Bea needs a cast we’ll use fibreglass and, since it will be difficult to expect Bea to keep it dry, I’ll use a waterproof lining too,’ Charlie told her.

  ‘Billy had blue but I don’t like blue,’ Bea said softly, looking down at her arm.

  ‘We have pink and yellow and I think red too,’ Charlie responded with his mouth curving to a half-smile and that did not go unnoticed by Juliet.

  ‘I like red for Chrithmath...but pink ith pretty... I want pink,’ Bea announced.

  Juliet smiled at her daughter. As she lifted her head her eyes met Charlie’s eyes staring back at her and her heart once again began to pick up speed. It was madness for certain. The intensity of his gaze wouldn’t allow her to look away. It was as if there was something deeper, something hidden behind the outer arrogance. Warmth and kindness seemed almost trapped inside him.

  And she couldn’t ignore, no matter how much she didn’t want it to be true, and how much she’d fought it over the years, that there was a tiny part of her craving warmth and kindness from a man like Charlie.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  ‘UNFORTUNATELY BEA HAS a distal radial fracture...but at least it’s non-displaced so we should be grateful for that news.’

  Charlie turned back from the radiographs on the illuminated viewer in the room to see Juliet holding her daughter closely. He could not help but notice the tenderness in her embrace and the obvious love Juliet had for her daughter. He had been wrong about her, he admitted to himself as he watched her gently kiss the mop of blonde curls on the top of her daughter’s head. He had not accompanied them to the radiography department. Instead he had excused himself to change into street clothes he kept in his office and then met them back in the emergency department.

  Their eyes met and he paused in silence for a moment. He hoped she had not noticed him staring longer than was necessary but he could not help himself. Despite their professional differences, there was something about Juliet that was making him curious. Making him want to know more about the single mother with the Australian accent; the very pretty face; the spitfire personality; and the adorable daughter. He had noted her mention Bea only had one parent. Whether she was widowed, divorced or had never married, he didn’t know. And it was none of his business.

  It was out of character for him to be distracted by anything or anyone. Least of all someone he had only just met. But he could not pretend even to himself that he had not been distracted by Juliet, and it was not just her appearance. She was a conundrum. A surgeon who looked closer in age to a first-year medical student while he knew she would have to be in her th
irties, with an academic record that would come close to that of a professor and an attitude when provoked of a bull. Not to mention a love for her child that was palpable. He had not met anyone quite like Dr Juliet Turner before.

  Charlie was never thrown by anyone or anything. Charlie Warren’s life was organised and predictable. It was the only way he could function. He had few friends, save his colleagues during his work hours. Socialising was a thing of the past although he had been forced to attend the recent hospital fundraiser, escaping as soon as decently possible.

  He spent any time away from the hospital alone and preferred it that way. In more than two years, Charlie had never experienced any interest in anything other than his work. Returning home only to sleep and prepare for the next day’s surgery or consultations. His patients were his sole passion in life. And now the Australian in-utero expert, with whom he completely disagreed on a professional level, was rousing his curiosity in knowing more about her.

  And it was unsettling.

  The second anniversary of the accident had just passed and it was a day he wanted to do differently every night as he lay alone in his bed reliving the hell that had become his waking reality. One he couldn’t change. One he had accepted a long time ago that he would live with for the rest of his life. And to be spending any time thinking about a woman other than his late wife was ridiculous.

  But as much as he fought the distraction, he couldn’t control his wandering thoughts.

  He wondered for a moment what life had dealt Juliet. Just being a surgeon would have provided struggles along the way. He had found the study and workload gruelling and he was not raising a child alone. Whether or not her status as a single mother was recent he was unsure. She looked to him like a waif but she had the fire and fight of someone a foot taller and he assumed she would have faced life head-on. His wife had been similar in stature but very different in demeanour and profession. She was quietly spoken, and a local Cotswolds girl who managed a craft shop in town. She spent hours quilting and running the little store that doubled as a social hub for the local community.

  Charlie doubted that Juliet would have any interest in quilting. But it bothered him greatly that questions about the woman holding her daughter had suddenly and unexplainably captured his thoughts.

  He was grateful that Juliet had been distracted by the nurse coming back and looked away. For some unfathomable reason he was struggling to do just that. The woman before him was nothing close to the stoic surgical specialist he’d been expecting and he was shocked at just how much he had noticed about her in such a short space of time.

  And he was angry and disappointed with himself for doing so.

  * * *

  Juliet forced herself to blink away her wandering thoughts. Charlie Warren was nothing close to what she’d been expecting. His white consulting coat covered black dress jeans and blue striped shirt. He was still wearing his black motorcycle boots. The combination of the leather and gunmetal hardware of his boots was both edgy and masculine. It had to stop. She had not flown to another hemisphere to find herself distracted by the first handsome man she met. First handsome, arrogant man who would be her work colleague for the next few weeks.

  She felt butterflies slowly returning just knowing he was so close to her. Close enough to reach out and touch her. Not that he would...nor would she want that, she told herself sternly. But it was as if she could see there was something more to the man who had rudely stood her up and then berated her for inattention to her daughter. Was his brash exterior a shield? She wasn’t sure as she tried in vain to analyse the ogre. Perhaps it was the way he had rushed to Bea. As a man and as a doctor, he had not hesitated to help Juliet’s daughter. He had lifted her into the safety and strength of his arms the way a father would. The way Bea’s own father never would and the way no man other than her grandfather up until that day had done.

  But it was romantic nonsense. He was just the tall and not so dark—more dusty blond—handsome stranger of happily ever after stories that she knew didn’t really exist.

  There wasn’t anything more to this man, her practical self was saying firmly and resolutely despite how her body was arguing. He wasn’t even nice let alone the type to sweep her off her feet. He was far too brusque and cold. What was going on in her tired mind? she wondered. It had to be international time difference setting in. Most definitely. It couldn’t be anything else stirring her thoughts into chaos. She needed a good night’s sleep and all would be as it should be. And she would be looking at her colleague as just that, a colleague. And if his strong, borderline obstinate opinion about her plans on surgical intervention with the quadruplets’ mother remained, they would in fact shift from colleagues to adversaries.

  She took solace in the idea that their differing opinions would add another protective layer to the armour she wore very comfortably.

  ‘Hmm-hmm...’ Juliet coughed. ‘I said I’m happy there’s no need for a closed reduction.’

  ‘That makes two of us,’ he replied, turning back to the radiographic films.

  ‘So there’ll be no intervention to realign the bones, just a cast as we already discussed, then?’ Juliet continued as she fought to keep her thoughts professional.

  ‘It’s standard practice to give the arm a few days in a sling to allow swelling to subside,’ Charlie explained to everyone in the room. ‘But I’m concerned at Bea’s age she may cause further damage if we don’t protect the fracture with a cast. There’s a marginal amount of swelling around the fracture site but not enough to warrant risking further damage by allowing it to be without protection.’ He then asked the nurse to prepare for the cast while three medical students, who had quickly become part of the furniture, continued listening intently. The nurse moved swiftly, while the medication still kept Bea’s pain at bay. ‘And we need pink. That is the colour you want, isn’t it, Bea?’

  Bea looked up and nodded.

  ‘Then pink it is,’ he told her. The nurse helped Juliet to carefully roll up Bea’s long-sleeved top that she had worn underneath the woollen jacket that was still under Juliet’s arm.

  ‘You were all layered up, weren’t you, young lady?’ the nurse commented with a smile. ‘Rugged up for our chilly winter?’

  Bea nodded and watched as her mother and the nurse worked gently to lift the clothing free so the cast could be applied.

  ‘It’s a nice loose top so it should roll down again afterwards, but the jacket will never fit so we’ll have to just rest that over her shoulders and go shopping for a cape,’ Juliet mentioned as she dropped the little coat on the nearest chair.

  Charlie began the process of applying the cast, explaining to Bea in simple language every step, while also including a short tutorial for the students’ benefit as they stood observing the process from the sidelines. Juliet listened to the way he spoke so tenderly to her daughter and she felt the flutter of the annoying butterflies emerging once again. She hated the feeling but she was unable to control it. His manner and tone to Bea made him appear almost fatherly. She sternly told herself it had to be his standard bedside manner...but she wasn’t completely convinced.

  ‘Applying a cast is quite a simple procedure,’ he began as he turned his attention to the students. ‘I’ll begin by wrapping several layers of soft cotton around the injured area. Today I’ll be applying a short cast that extends from the wrist to just below the elbow as the break is a distal radial fracture so extending further than that would cause unnecessary discomfort to the patient.’ Charlie worked at wrapping Bea’s tiny injured arm, and as he spoke the fibreglass outer layer was being soaked in water. Gently he wrapped the fibreglass around the soft first layer. ‘While the outer layer is wet at the moment, it will dry to a hard, protective covering. I’ll make some tiny incisions in the cast to allow for any potential swelling.’

  In less than thirty minutes, Beatrice Turner was the proud owner
of a pretty pink cast. And her mother could not help but be impressed with the way in which Dr Charlie Warren had attended to her daughter, executed the delicate procedure and managed to deliver a tutorial to the students. All the while continuing to look devastatingly handsome. She shook herself mentally and tried to remind herself of his initial overbearing attitude. But it was difficult when he was displaying such empathy to the little person she loved most in the world.

  ‘Now you need to rest this arm quite still for about an hour, Bea,’ Charlie said. ‘The nurse will keep an eye on it and we’ll leave your top rolled up for the time being.’

  Bea just looked at the cast. Her eyes told the story. They were filled with confusion. It had been an overwhelming experience for her and she wasn’t taking in much of what was being said at that moment.

  ‘And we can give you a sling to hold it up because it might get heavy over the next few weeks.’

  Still Bea just sat in silence. Juliet suspected it was a combination of jet lag and the pain beginning to resurface.

  ‘Mummy will be here,’ she told her softly as she stroked her hair.

  Juliet waited for another snide remark, in fact she hoped for one, but Charlie made none. She didn’t like not having a reason to dislike the man.

  ‘It may get itchy, Bea, and if it does you can tap on the outside and that might help, but don’t put anything inside like a pencil because it might scratch your skin and we don’t want germs in there.’

  Juliet watched as Bea tilted her head slightly with a curious expression on her beautiful face. She knew her daughter was still a little confused by everything that had happened so quickly. It was a lot for a four-year-old to take in such a short amount of time.