A Child to Heal Their Hearts

by Drake, Dianne

  “How long has she been this way?” he asked, turning and nearly running into his cabin.

  “Just the last few hours. She’d been getting progressively sicker and I wasn’t too worried about it at first, but when I listened to her chest a little while ago, the congestion had more than doubled from earlier and her temperature had elevated two degrees.”

  He laid Megan carefully on the sofa then dashed into the next room after his medical bag.

  “Well, I hope I didn’t do the wrong thing bringing her here.” She shrugged. “And I’m sorry for the intrusion. Maybe I panicked a little.” Panicked because she’d known what would happen if she’d taken Megan to the hospital. The system would have gotten her. As much as she didn’t want the child, she also didn’t want the child to end up in the system, which was what would have happened because a trip to Emergency tonight would have started that process. “I didn’t know what else to do.”

  “You followed your instinct. Did what you believed was best. It’s not a bad thing, Keera.” He took a quick blood-pressure reading, followed by the rest of Megan’s vitals, then pulled off his stethoscope and laid it aside.

  It was a simple action yet so sexy. And she wanted to kick herself for noticing. “I may have overreacted, but—”

  “Look, I don’t know the dynamics here. Don’t know why social services left the child with you when, clearly, she’s not your responsibility. Don’t know why you avoided a quick trip to an emergency room rather than driving all the way out here. But I’m not going to ask. We all have our reasons for the crazy things we do, and I don’t mean crazy in a literal sense but more from a point of observation. Seems crazy to me because I don’t know what makes you tick, but obviously it doesn’t seem crazy to you because you understand the situation. So as far as I’m concerned, it’s all good.”

  “I appreciate that,” she said sincerely. “Thank you.”

  “Don’t thank me yet. I want to keep Megan for a day or so. It’s probably a slight upper respiratory infection, although I want to make sure before I let her go as I don’t think she’s up to another trip back with you so soon. So I’d like to keep her in the infirmary here for a little while, if you don’t mind. It’s empty and I can quarantine her there just to make sure the other kids don’t come in contact with her. Then I’ll get her hydrated and start her on some medication to make her feel better.” He frowned. “Unless you’d rather admit her to a local hospital because she is a little dehydrated. Your choice.”

  No choice. This was where Megan had to be, at least for the night. “And the infirmary is...?”

  He pointed to a door at the rear of the living room. “Through the kitchen, out the door, first building you see beyond my cabin. The clinic is on the other side of the compound.”

  “Why do you keep them separated?”

  “These kids are very susceptible to illness. Don’t want sickness anywhere near regular medical duties.”

  “Makes sense.”

  “Also, I bought the camp as is. Didn’t have one place large enough to house both the clinic and infirmary. Anyway, there’s always someone on duty. Usually me, sometimes Betsy, the camp nurse, who stays in the cabin adjacent to this one. We alternate nights taking call.

  “As far as the infirmary, I think you may have to help a bit there because Betsy’s pregnant and I don’t let her near the sick kids. Which means it’s basically you and me, and I do have a volunteer who isn’t medical but who had leukemia when she was a kid and enjoys helping out where she can.”

  “You need to know I’m not good at pediatrics.”

  “Maybe not, but I don’t have a lot of options if we’re going to keep Megan here. Like I said, there’s always the hospital...”

  An unacceptable choice. That was her first thought. Her second was that she could leave Megan here, go home and let Consuela, the social worker, deal with the rest of it. This was certainly her chance to step aside and know Megan was in good hands, but something inside her was stopping her from taking it. “So you want me basically quarantined with her?”

  “Not quarantined as in locked up. We have a guest cabin. Nothing fancy, but a place to sleep for the rest of the night, if you want it, while I watch Megan. Then in the morning we can work out the schedule.”

  “Maybe she’ll be ready to travel in the morning.” And maybe in the morning Consuela would call her and tell her she’d found a perfect placement. Maybe even a good family who would eventually adopt Megan. One who’d been on the waiting list, praying for a beautiful two-year-old girl. Sure, it was a long shot, she knew that. But it was also a very nice dream—a dream she’d never had for her own.

  “That’s possible,” he said. “But unlikely. In the meantime, you look like you’re due for a few hours of sleep.”

  Yes, she did want that sleep. More now that he’d mentioned it. Hypnotic effect—her eyelids were getting heavy. “Definitely no hospital, so I guess it looks like I’m staying. I think I’ll talk to Megan for a minute then I’ll take you up on that cabin. Oh, and, Reid, I really am sorry to put you through this. If there’s anything I can do...”

  “How about I carry her to the infirmary then you can tuck her in while I run over to the girls’ dorm and check on my daughters?” He smiled. “They may think they’re getting away from Dad, but it’s not happening. Anyway, one last kiss goodnight while you settle Megan in, then I’ll point you in the direction of the guest cabin and you’re on your own. Oh, and breakfast is at eight. Big white building in the middle of the complex. Meals are prompt, but if you sleep in, I always have cereal and milk in my own kitchen.”

  He was tall, a bit lanky. Wore wire-rimmed glasses, needed a haircut. She liked his scraggly look, though. Light brown hair, slightly curly, slightly over his collar. Slight dimple in his chin. And, oh, those blue eyes. Wow, they were perceptive. So much so they almost scared her. “I don’t sleep much so I’ll be good to grab something with everybody else.”

  “I’m just saying...” he said, scooping Megan into his arms and heading out to the infirmary.

  * * *

  Keera opened the door to the infirmary, saw exactly four beds. It was a tidy space, not large, not lush. Just basic. “Do many of your kids get sick?”

  “Not really. By the point in their recovery that they’re allowed to come to camp, they’re usually pretty far along in the whole process, with all kinds of specialists making the determination whether or not they’re ready for the whole camping experience. In other words, barring normal things like colds and flu, they’re usually doing pretty well.”

  “Well, it sounds like you’re doing important work. So don’t you think the owners would put a little more effort into the medical facility that might have to treat those kids? I mean, this place will suffice, but it could certainly stand some updates and expansion.” After Reid laid Megan in the bed, Keera pulled up the blanket to cover her. “Closer to the clinic would be nice, too, to save you some steps.”

  “Are you always like this?”

  “What?”

  “Outspoken. Opinionated. Whatever you want to call it.” Grabbing a fresh digital thermometer from the drawer in the stand next to the bed, he pulled it from its wrapper, punched the button and waited for it to calibrate. “Something to say pretty much on every subject.” The thermometer end went under Megan’s tongue the same time his eyes went to Keera’s. “I’m right about that, aren’t I?”

  “It’s been said.” Amongst a lot worse things. “I’m a cardiac surgeon in a large hospital, and—”

  “I know who you are.”

  “How?”

  “Internet search.”

  “When?”

  “Earlier. After you called. You sounded like someone who might come back to haunt me later on, so I decided to read up. Good thing I did, because...”

  She smiled, almost apologetically bu
t not quite. “Because I came back to haunt you.”

  The thermometer beeped and Reid pulled it out and read it. Then shook his head. “One hundred three and a couple of decimal points.” Immediately, he pulled up Megan’s eyelids, took a look. She responded by whimpering and trying to jerk away from him.

  “I talked to Beau a couple hours ago. He’d looked at the records we have for her, saw nothing significant. In fact, the only time she’s been to the office was when her parents first moved to Sugar Creek, and they were establishing me as their pediatrician. I gave her a preliminary exam, sort of as a baseline, and there was nothing remarkable. She’s developed properly for a child her age, and according to her parents there’s no history of any chronic illness or condition.

  “But that’s me taking their word for it because they never had her medical records transferred to us, and there’s no mention of a former pediatrician, so right now we really know very little. Which means we’re coming into her care pretty much blind.”

  “Trust me, blind is bad.”

  “I get the feeling that has nothing to do with Megan.”

  “Actually, it has everything to do with her. But not in the medical sense.”

  Pulling out his stethoscope, Reid listened to the child’s chest, her heart, her tummy then pulled out his earpieces. “Didn’t hear anything more remarkable than what you probably heard. Bilateral congestion, wheezing.” He shrugged. “Indicative of any number of things. Which means I’m going to need lab work that I’m not equipped to do here.”

  “Did it before I came here. Results should be in by morning. And I have her X-ray in the car.”

  “You come prepared. Too bad all my patients don’t come in with all their tests already done.”

  “Like I told you, I don’t know a thing about children. Don’t treat them, don’t operate on them, don’t want to. But getting everything done beforehand seemed logical.”

  “Well, even though you’ve complicated my life by bringing her here, you’ve made my complication easier.”

  “You’re not supposed to treat anybody who’s not at camp? Is that the problem? Because I can talk to the owner or director. Apologize. Make the appropriate donation for her care, if that’s what’s needed to make this better.”

  “Actually, I own the camp so I can do what I want. And donations are always welcome. But just so you’ll know, she’s got the start of a rash on her stomach, so I think she’s probably coming down with measles, most likely in the early part of its three or four days of infectivity. Meaning while she’s in here I can’t have other children anywhere near her. So if somebody else needs the facility...” He shrugged. “I’ll treat her here for now, certainly for the night, and we’ll do the best we can with what we have. But I can’t make any promises beyond that. Fair enough?”

  “More than fair,” she said, grateful for what he was offering.

  “Have you had measles, by the way?”

  “Not that I remember. But I don’t remember a lot of my childhood, so I don’t really know.”

  “Vaccinated?”

  “That, I was. Required in school.” When she had gone, which hadn’t been too often. “Could this be something else, though? An allergic reaction of some sort?” Reid Adams was an acclaimed pediatrician—she’d done her Internet surfing as well. So it was highly unlikely he’d make a mistake of a pretty basic diagnosis. Still, an allergic reaction resulting in a rash beat measles any day, so she was keeping her fingers crossed.

  “If I were a betting man, I’d bet she’s going to have a full-blown rash by this time tomorrow.”

  “And you still want to keep her? Especially with all the other children being so susceptible? I mean, I could take her to a hotel someplace close, so she wouldn’t have to suffer that long drive back tonight.”

  “She’s too congested to move her any place, if we don’t have to. It would risk complications. And she has to be sick somewhere, doesn’t she? Seeing that you’re not in favor of taking her to the hospital, which would really be the only place I’d approve sending her...”

  “If she absolutely needs to be in a hospital, that’s what I’ll do. I just have personal preferences about not leaving an already abandoned child in an institution.” Keera looked down at the girl, and her heart clutched. Poor thing, she didn’t deserve cold detachment, but that’s all Keera was capable of giving. She knew her limitations.

  “She’s not my child, but I want what’s best for her, and while I know you’re a pediatrician and you’ll disagree with me, I don’t happen to think it would be in a hospital. And I don’t say that lightly as I work in a hospital.”

  “Couldn’t agree with you more about hospitals.” He pushed a strand of hair away from Megan’s face then stood. “Don’t like them myself if they’re not necessary. Look, I really do need to go say goodnight to my girls, then I’ll be back to put an IV in her and give her some fluids to keep her hydrated. I think that will be easier than trying to get her to drink anything right now. It’ll only take me a couple of minutes...”

  “I’m really sorry about this,” Keera said, feeling the need to apologize over and over because of what she was doing to Reid and his camp. It was an inconvenience at very best and a danger at worst.

  “She’s sick. Bringing her all the way out here might not have been my first choice, but it’s a difficult situation. Can’t say I understand your decisions, but I’m not going to argue about them. So why the worried look?”

  “I’m still concerned about exposing the other kids. I didn’t think about that before I came here, and I feel terrible.”

  “See, the thing about being a pediatrician is you’re always in contact with something that’s highly contagious. In my office, I actually have separate waiting areas for kids with something catchy, as I like to call it. They never go to the general waiting room, never come near one of the other kids. Bottom line, I’m cautious and it works. So does the fact that we’re surrounded by the great outdoors so there aren’t any environmental factors that would help promote exposure.”

  “You sure?”

  He nodded, smiled. “Sure.”

  “Do you have a solution for my fear of children as well?”

  “Afraid of children, yet you’re a good doctor.”

  “Definitely afraid of children. Don’t know what to do for them, or with them. I was a nervous wreck every time I had to rotate through Pediatrics when I was a resident.”

  “Somehow I don’t picture you being a nervous wreck about anything.”

  “I appreciate the compliment, but I’m serious about children. They’re not my strength. Speaking of which, there’s something you should know about Megan. And it’s not really her so much as the whole situation. But only because you’re her doctor.”

  He motioned Keera to the door. “Tell me as you walk me out.”

  She did, then stopped at the door as he stepped out into the night. “Without dragging out all the dirty laundry, what you need to know is that Keera is the child my husband conceived with another woman while he and I were still married, still going through the motions that made it look like a good marriage. We had our share of problems, like all couples do, but I didn’t know he was cheating on me. Didn’t even know his affair produced a child until she was a year old, and he was wanting out of our marriage so he could invest himself fully in his other family. That was a year ago. Haven’t seen him since except across the table at the lawyer’s office. And I’d never seen the child until...”

  “Yet here you are with her, going above and beyond the call of duty to get her what you think is the care she needs.” Reid whistled quietly. “I’d say that’s pretty admirable in an uncomfortable situation.”

  “It is uncomfortable. The authorities brought her to me...well, I’m not really sure how that worked out because once I realized they intended to leave her with me the
rest of it turned into a blur. But there were some papers in the car—it was a car crash that killed them—and my name was on the papers. Papers from before we were divorced, I think.

  “Anyway, the child was fine, so they brought her to me because they believed she was mine. Then they more or less coerced me into keeping her because they didn’t have a place to put her for various reasons, she got sick, here I am...”

  Reid laid a steadying hand on her arm. “And here you are, frantic.”

  “I’m sorry. In surgery I’m in control. But with Megan?” She shrugged. “It’s hard, Reid. And I really don’t have the right to be burdening you with all this. I wouldn’t have, except she got sick and...”

  “And you fixated on me as your solution.”

  “Not my solution. Megan’s solution. You’re her doctor. Which is a lame reason for me showing up here the way I did, but I panicked because my alternative was to take her to the hospital, and as a place to work it’s fine, but for a child...” She stopped explaining. “So, how are we going to deal with all these problems I’ve created for you?”

  He chuckled. “Minor glitches.”

  “I wouldn’t call them minor as it involves more than I ever expected. I mean, tying up your infirmary, keeping you away from your daughters. And your...wife?”

  “No wife. Never married. Adopted daughters. Long story.”

  “Well, whatever the case, I haven’t made things easy for you here, so...”

  “So, that donation you mentioned?”

  She nodded. “Happy to do it.”

  “Money’s always great, but I’m thinking about some clinic time while you’re here. That way I can sneak off and see my girls.”

  “I’m all for you getting to spend time with your daughters, and I’ll do anything I can to help make that happen. But seriously? You want me working with your kids after what I just told you?” It was probably the most uninspired thing he could have suggested.

  “Think of them as future adults and you’ll be just fine.”