Wanda dug in all the more. “You’re the one we trust.”
“Which is a problem in and of itself,” Violet said with sincere regret. “I’ve done you a grave disservice if I’ve left you with the impression that I’m the only member of the medical team you can trust. All the doctors, the nurses, the radiologists and aides contribute to the excellent care you receive.”
“You’re saying we should trust Dr. Warren.”
“She would never have been hired if she weren’t top-notch.”
Wanda shook her head. “But she’s not family to us. You’re family, Dr. McCabe. And we only want family looking after Carlson.”
Violet sucked in a breath. “Then give her a chance. Let her become family to you, too.”
* * *
“YOU SHOULD BE flattered they think so highly of you,” Gavin said after he had woken from his nap and she’d told him about her meeting with the Willoughbys.
Violet sorted baby clothes, then put the pastels in the washer. “If I’d really been doing my job, they’d trust more than just me.”
He sent her an intuitive glance. “What’s really going on here?”
Violet measured baby laundry detergent into a cup. “It’s too much pressure.”
Gavin disappeared into the bathroom and returned with an electric razor. “You’ve been handling it so far.”
Trying not to think what they had done in this very laundry area just a few hours before, Violet selected a warm-water cycle. “Because up until now, I kept some boundaries and emotional distance from them.”
He ran the razor over his jaw. “Your ability to care about your patients is what makes you such a good physician.”
It would be so easy to lean on him this way.
Violet released a shuddering breath. With difficulty, she met his probing blue gaze. “It can also cause me to lose my perspective and blind me to what’s really going on, if I’m not careful.”
He moved the razor to the other side of his face. “When has that happened?”
Violet piled the baby whites, still waiting to be washed, back into the hamper. “With Sterling. He was sick off and on for almost a year before he ever came out and told anyone.” Satisfied the soap was integrating nicely in the water, she closed the lid and raised a hand before Gavin could say anything that would let her off the hook. “I was living with him. I should have seen the signs and understood what it all meant, forced him to go to a doctor a lot sooner.”
Gavin’s brow furrowed. “You were both just medical students at the time, weren’t you?”
Violet followed him to the closet where he pulled out a clean pair of scrubs. “I still should have known something was wrong, whether he admitted it to himself or not.” Guilt knotted her gut. “Wanda knew something was going on with Carlson, long before he was first diagnosed. She made him go to the doctor to get checked out. Because of that, his cancer was detected early.” A lump rose in her throat. “I didn’t do that for Sterling.”
A silence fell. Once again, he saw far more of what she was thinking and feeling than she would have wished. “Is that the real reason you want to leave Laramie?” he asked softly, stripping off his jeans. “You’re afraid you’ll miss something with the patients you’re close to?”
She averted her gaze from the soft covering of dark hair on his legs. “Part of it is still Sterling.” She folded her arms tightly in front of her. “This is where I did the bulk of my grieving. So being here sometimes makes me sad.”
“But?”
She watched as he tugged on a scrub shirt and pulled it down over his broad shoulders and sinewy chest. “I am scared I’m too personally involved and that I will miss something.” Her chin quavered as she looked into his eyes and let herself spill all. “I couldn’t bear it if that happened.”
He took her into his arms. Holding her close, he stroked her cheek. “Why do you think that might happen?”
Her breath hitched in her throat. She pulled away and began to pace. “Because when you care about someone, you don’t want to admit there could be something really wrong. Instead, you look for ways to reassure yourself and your loved one that there isn’t anything amiss, that it’s just stress or fatigue causing them not to feel well.”
He listened in a way that made it easier for her to go on.
“Coming back to Laramie to do my residency, after Sterling died, was helpful to me. I was closer to family and surrounded by people I cared about and had known all my life. But—” she took another breath and forced herself to continue “—when I became the oncologist to some of those same people, those feelings of affection and concern for their well-being deepened.”
“So you’re not leaving because you care too little. You’re leaving Laramie because you care too much,” he surmised softly.
Violet nodded.
He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and kissed the top of her head. “Does anyone else know this?” he asked, giving her a comforting squeeze.
Violet bit her lip. “Not really. I mean, I talked to my parents about it a while back, when I first started noticing I could have a problem. They told me it was something all doctors experience to some degree, and that as time goes on, I’ll learn how to detach enough to do my job.”
He led her over to sit on the edge of his bed. “And have you?”
Violet looked up at him. “Not as much as I feel I need to.”
As he sat beside her, their legs came in contact from thigh to knee. He did not move away. “The same thing could happen if you go elsewhere.”
Violet didn’t move away, either. “It’ll be different if I’m treating strangers instead of people and families I’ve known my entire life.”
“Don’t kid yourself about that,” he scoffed. “I’ve had it happen to me, too.”
Violet shifted slightly toward him. “As an ER doc?” she asked in surprise.
“I’m treating people I’ve known forever, too. It’s true, a lot of them only come in once—because they’re having a heart attack or stroke or have been in a car accident. But as I told you before, I also have patients I see a lot more frequently.” His voice turned quiet, more somber. “There’s a kid with cystic fibrosis who may not live a whole lot longer who breaks my heart every time. An older gentleman whose diabetes is out of control. ALS and muscular dystrophy patients who can get very ill, very fast.”
For the first time Violet thought not just about their differences but all they had in common, too. As people. As doctors. “So what do you do?” she asked, her respect for him growing all the more.
He shrugged. “I focus on the problem at hand and don’t let myself think about anything else.”
Silence fell as they sat there a moment, side by side, before Violet flicked another glance his way. “You still don’t think I should leave Laramie.”
He shook his head, his expression grave. “You’re needed here.”
She grinned at the ferocity of his determination. “By the community.”
“And by me,” he told her, shifting her onto his lap and kissing her softly.
As she kissed him back, a mixture of desire and longing for even more swept through her. If only they could fall in love.
If only the situation were ideal...
He stroked a hand through her hair and pulled back to look into her eyes. He kissed the back of her hand, the inside of her wrist. “And if I didn’t have to go to work in about five minutes, I’d show you just how much you are wanted.”
Her heart skittered in her chest. Wanted was good. So was needed. But she wanted to be loved, too. Was that too much to ask?
“Are you okay?” he asked, eyeing her carefully.
Was she? With Ava to care for, Violet knew she had only one option. “Of course I am,” she said.
She had to be, so she would be
.
Chapter Twelve
“Thanks for bringing dinner,” Violet said two hours later when her mom and dad stopped by to check on her and Ava.
Her father set a bag from the local barbecue restaurant on the table in the living area. “We were happy to do it.”
Her mother went straight to the wicker bassinet, where Ava was now sleeping. She gazed tenderly down at the infant. “No more hospital crib?”
Gavin had taken the borrowed infant bed back to the hospital. “It wasn’t the bed she was sleeping in that was the problem,” Violet admitted, chagrined. “She just needed to be swaddled to feel secure.”
Moving away, her mother said gently, “You could have called me when you were having difficulty.”
And risk being a failure in their eyes? Knowing she had done enough to earn their disapproval in the past, Violet merely nodded. “Next time.”
The three of them sat down to dinner. Her dad sent her a curious look. “How is the search for an adoptive family going?”
Almost too smoothly, Violet thought, aware she was less eager to finish her task with every minute that had passed. “Earlier today Mitzy dropped off a list of potential candidates to review.”
While her parents passed around savory platters of tender smoked turkey breast, coleslaw, potato salad and green beans, Violet went on to explain the process. She reached into her purse to retrieve her computer tablet. “But that’s not really why I asked you over tonight,” she said. “I wanted to talk to you about the job offer I received from San Antonio.”
After reviewing the email, Lacey and Jackson agreed it was an excellent offer. “Are you going to take it?” her mother asked.
Two weeks ago, she would have.
But everything was different now.
Violet swallowed. “I was thinking that I might stay on in Laramie and continue to work for the hospital for another six months or maybe even a year.”
To her disappointment, the joy she had expected to see on her folks’ faces was not there.
Her father frowned, in chief-of-staff mode now. “It depends on why you’re making the decision.”
“Part of it is the patients,” Violet explained, cutting into a slice of turkey. “They all seem to think I’m letting them down by not staying on to see them transition to Dr. Warren’s care.”
“And the rest?” her mother asked gently.
“Is my commitment to help out at McCabe House—”
“The rest of the family can pitch in to handle that,” her father interjected.
“I know, but there is Ava’s situation, too.” Violet took a sip of iced tea, then stared down at her plate. “It’s turning out to be more complicated than I expected.”
Her parents exchanged looks. “Have you changed your mind about relinquishing your guardianship and placing her with someone else?” her mother asked finally. “Because as we told you earlier, we would support that.”
“I can’t do it on my own, Mom.”
“So you’ve changed your mind and Gavin hasn’t changed his?” Lacey mused, putting down her fork.
Since there was no way to honestly and adequately answer that, given the fact she and Gavin hadn’t come out and talked about it, she said instead, “We both want what’s best for little Ava.”
Her mother resumed eating. “What about what’s best for you?”
The bite of creamy potato salad Violet had just taken lodged like a stone in her tummy. Lifting her chin, she tried for calm. “What do you mean?”
Grave looks passed between her parents. With a worried sigh, her mother admitted, “We don’t want to see you in the same situation you were in before. Tying yourself to someone who does not have the same level of commitment to you—or to Ava—that you have to them.”
* * *
GAVIN WASN’T SURPRISED to see Violet’s dad that evening. The chief of staff had been called in to perform emergency surgery on a car accident victim with a broken leg. He didn’t expect to have an unsettling conversation with him and he was still thinking about what Jackson had said as he drove home.
Violet had left the porch light on. The interior lights were still blazing, too. Gavin let himself in.
A little after midnight, Ava was in her bassinet, sleeping. Violet was busy making up a bed on the sofa. She turned to him with a bright smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes.
“I don’t know if you had a chance to eat dinner yet, but my parents brought over barbecue. There’s plenty left, in the fridge.”
He nodded his thanks. “How did your talk with them go?” he asked casually. Able to see she was about to evade, he added, “Better than mine with your dad, I hope?”
Her cheerful facade faded. An unsettling silence fell between them. “He talked to you?”
“A few minutes ago, at the hospital.”
She grabbed a pillow and slid on a new case. “About?”
“Us taking the long view and not acting on our temporary emotions.”
She dropped the pillow onto the sofa, mouth set. “Let me guess. He also referenced my misguided, overly idealized sense of responsibility toward others.”
He helped her spread the blanket over the sheet. “How did you know?”
She placed her hand over her heart, the other tucked against her ribs. “It’s an old argument.”
He took a stab in the dark. “Having to do with Sterling and the fact you apparently were a whole lot more devoted to him than he was to you?”
Violet turned and paced away. Her shoulders slumping, she ran a weary hand over her eyes. “I wish to heaven they would let that go.”
“Then it’s true? Your ex didn’t love you, at least not the way you loved him.”
She moved through the kitchen to the bedroom. “It’s complicated.”
He watched her rummage through the suitcase. “Meaning you don’t want to talk about it.”
She disappeared into the bathroom, something flowery clutched in her hand. “I don’t want to talk about anything they said to me this evening,” she said through the door.
Deciding to use the opportunity to change, he tugged off his scrubs and slid on a pair of low-slung cotton pajama pants and a gray T-shirt. “You mean there was more?”
She walked out, clad in a pair of pink-and-white-flowered flannel pajamas. She looked sexy and sweet as hell. His body reacted as if a match had been lit.
“Heck, yes, there was more!” She gathered her dark hair and tucked it into a clip on the back of her head. “This is my parents we’re talking about!” She marched back into the bathroom again.
Doing his best to tamp down his desire, he lingered in the doorway “Do they still want you to take Ava over to their place?” He watched her spread a creamy white soap over her face while avoiding her lips.
“They think I’m going to get hurt if we continue our current arrangement.”
“Because you’re getting too close to Ava.” They both were, if truth be told. Even he—the guy without a romantic bone in his body—could see it was going to hurt like hell to give Ava up. Although this was what they both had vowed they would do.
Violet bent to rinse her face. His gaze fell to the sexy curve of her hips beneath the flannel—which was now stretched taut, delineating the area he wanted to explore.
“And to you,” she admitted reluctantly.
Forcing himself to stop thinking about making love to her, at least for now, Gavin handed her a towel. “You told them we hooked up?”
“No, of course not,” she said, clearly irritated by his stunned tone. “But they know me and they know you, and they’ve deduced that we’ve suddenly become a whole lot closer to each other by the way we have been interacting.” She reached for a bottle of face lotion.
“We’re supposed to be a team where Ava is
concerned.”
“I know.” Violet spread moisturizer across the elegant planes of her face and neck. She recapped the bottle with a snap and shook her head. “But they think even that has the potential to lead us both astray.”
Her parents might have had a point about that, he thought, fighting the rush of guilt deep inside him.
The gentleman in him knew he should have waited until the situation with the baby was resolved to make love with Violet.
But the man in him knew waiting had been as impossible for her as it was for him. They needed to be together. The shared responsibility of the baby had made it all possible.
“So they don’t want to see you with me?” He tamped down the hurt in his voice.
“No, it’s not like that.” Violet stepped up to him and tenderly stroked his jaw. “They like you, Gavin. They really do.”
Hearing the equivocation in her careful words, he felt another punch to his gut. “Then what exactly do they want to see happen?” he asked gruffly.
This time there was a flash of hurt in her eyes. Violet swallowed, recalling the rest of her parents’ words. “They said they would be happy to see me dating you. Or adopting Ava on my own. Even having a baby of my own, as a single mom.” She blew out a breath. “What they don’t want to see is the three of us getting more and more emotionally entangled just because you and I happened to be named Ava’s co-guardians.”
“It’s more than that upsetting your parents,” Gavin insisted. “Tell me.”
“Well, if you must know,” she said hesitantly, “it’s the fact that my bunking with you is so reminiscent of the way that Sterling and I first started sharing space.”
Her love for her late fiancé was legendary—at least in Laramie. But there was nothing in the lore that stated there had been any impropriety.
Trying to put the pieces together, Gavin peeked out into the living room, where Ava was still asleep, then went into the kitchen and began fixing himself a plate of food.
“You weren’t engaged to Sterling at the time?”
Violet followed him into the kitchen. She reached into the freezer and brought out a small container of Rocky Road ice cream. “Actually, we weren’t even dating. We were just study partners in our first year of med school.” She flipped off the lid and took a spoon from the drawer.
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