A Mother's Love

by Dawn Stewardson

  “Oh, man,” he whispered to himself. “Man, oh, man, are you in trouble.”

  Having her living with him while they followed the rest of their “taking things slowly” plan would be even tougher than he’d realized.

  But he’d do everything in his power to keep their relationship neutral. Because he was absolutely certain there’d be nothing casual about a romantic relationship with Natalie. If he wasn’t careful he might even find himself...

  Uh-uh. No way. He’d do whatever was necessary to keep from falling in love with a woman who lived as far away as Guatemala.

  * * *

  WHEN HANK STOPPED outside the front entrance of Madison Plains, Natalie had to fight the temptation to ask if he’d drive her straight back to the house.

  A sense of dread had her tightly in its grasp—and she wasn’t even on the unit yet, let alone doing what she had to do.

  “Is this the hospital?” Robbie asked from his booster seat in the back.

  “Yes,” she said, turning and giving him the best smile she could muster. Then she looked at Hank and said, “Thanks for the ride. I’ll call you later.”

  As she started to unfasten her seat belt, he reached across and covered her hand with his.

  “Take it easy, huh?” he said quietly.

  “I’ll do my best.”

  She tried to smile again, but had the distinct feeling it must look more like a grimace.

  He let his hand linger for another few seconds, then took it away.

  Hers felt suddenly cold.

  “Bye, Natalie,” Robbie said as she opened her door.

  “Bye, honey. You have some fun with your dad while I’m gone, okay?”

  “’Kay.”

  She made herself get out of the Jeep and close the door. Then she gave them a wave and began forcing one foot in front of the other.

  This time, she didn’t stop by to see Betty before going to Pediatrics. Making cheery chitchat would just take too much out of her.

  On her way up the stairs, she reminded herself that delivering bad news was simply something that went with being a doctor. But it was one of the tasks she’d always found very difficult. And when it came to Emma...

  First things first, though, which in this case meant breaking the news to Señora Perez. And if she really lucked out, the woman wouldn’t be too upset to tell Emma herself.

  But as she’d said to Hank, she doubted there was any real chance of that. She was undoubtedly on the hook for both of them.

  When she stuck her head into Cynthia’s office, Cynthia gave her a sympathetic glance, then said, “You’ve got yourself psyched up?”

  “I’ve been trying.”

  “Well...good luck. Oh, and last I saw, Señora Perez was having coffee in the visitors’ lounge.”

  Hoping she’d still be there, which would avoid having to fetch her from Emma’s room, Natalie hurried down the hall—and there she was.

  “Doctora Lawson,” she said, smiling wanly.

  “Señora Perez. Just who I was looking for,” she continued in Spanish. “I wonder if we could talk in my office for a few minutes.”

  As soon as she said that, the older woman’s expression turned anxious. But she didn’t utter another word. She merely followed Natalie back along the hallway.

  She closed her office door behind them, gestured that Señora Perez should sit in one of the visitors’ chairs and sat down on the one beside it.

  After taking a deep breath, she said, “Señora Perez, I’m afraid I have some bad news.”

  The woman waited, not taking her gaze from Natalie’s face.

  She ordered herself to go on. “I’m sorry, but your daughter has died. It happened about an hour ago.”

  Señora Perez’s bottom lip began to tremble, she crossed herself, then tears were streaming down her face.

  Natalie scootched her chair closer and wrapped her arm around the woman’s shoulder.

  She buried her face in her hands and sobbed so hard and for so long that Natalie started thinking they’d have to give her something to calm her down.

  Finally, though, she regained a modicum of control and reached for the box of tissues Natalie offered.

  After blowing her nose, she said, “¿Que va pasarnos a nosotros?”

  Her voice was quavering so badly that her words were hard to make out. Not impossible, though. She’d asked, What will become of us?

  The question made Natalie wish she were better prepared to answer it.

  Both Señora Perez and Emma must qualify for some sort of social assistance, but she knew nothing about the New Jersey system. And as Cynthia had said the first day, there’d been no point in even beginning to try making any long-term arrangements until they knew for certain whether Emma’s mother would live or die. Now, though—

  “There isn’t any money,” Señora Perez continued. “Only my daughter had a job. And... How will I look after Emma?”

  “There’ll be help available,” Natalie said as evenly as she could. “I’m not sure exactly what kind, but I’ll find out for you.”

  But when it came to how Señora Perez would look after Emma...

  She gazed at the floor, recalling once again what Cynthia had said. Since her grandmother was in no position to care for Emma, she’d become a ward of the state.

  However, this was not the time to get into that.

  “Señora Perez,” she said softly. “What about Emma right now? She’ll already be wondering why you haven’t come back to her room. And she’ll see that you’ve been crying. Do you feel up to talking to her?”

  Fresh tears appeared. “No puedo. No ahorita.”

  “I understand,” Natalie murmured.

  It was hardly surprising that the woman needed time to pull herself together, but Emma would be wondering what was going on. And with her grandmother so very upset... As much as Natalie didn’t want to be the one to tell her...

  She was in the process of convincing herself that she had to at least offer to do it when Señora Perez focused on her again.

  “Would you talk to her?” she asked between sobs. “Explain? And I’ll come as soon as I can stop crying. And I’ll stay the night with her. If that’s okay.”

  “Yes, of course it is. I’ll arrange to have a cot brought into her room.”

  * * *

  A HEAVY HEART.

  The phrase might be a cliché, but it perfectly described the way Natalie’s heart felt as she paused outside the doorway to Emma’s room.

  Since the little girl was in traction, there was no way of handling this with much privacy. So thank heavens they could converse in Spanish.

  She forced herself to walk into the room and say hello to the other patients before heading over to Emma’s bed.

  The smile Emma flashed made her wish she could turn around and walk right back out. And for some reason, it made her feel even worse that the little girl had Teddy tucked so carefully under the sheet beside her.

  Lord, she already knew she wasn’t going to get through this anywhere nearly as professionally as she should.

  When she pulled the curtain around the bed, Emma said, “Why are you doing that?”

  “Oh...just because.”

  “You’re not gonna give me a needle, are you?”

  “No,” she said, wishing with all her might she’d come for something so trivial.

  “Do you know my grandma’s better, Dr. Lawson? Well, mostly better?”

  “Uh-huh. I was just talking to her,” she said, switching into Spanish and pulling a chair up as close as she could get it.

  “¿Y has recordado a averiguar sí mi mama puede llamarme?”

  And had she remembered to find out if Emma’s mother could phone her? Natalie swallowed hard. There was no delaying any longer.

  She rested her hand on Emma’s arm and collected her courage. Then, sticking with Spanish, she said, “Emma, I have to tell you something that will make you very sad. Your mother died a little while ago.”

  For a few sec
onds Emma merely stared at her, as if she didn’t understand, then her face crumpled and she dissolved into tears.

  “I’m so, so sorry,” Natalie murmured, moving onto the edge of the bed and putting her arms around the little girl.

  Emma wrapped hers around Natalie’s neck and clung to her as she cried.

  Stroking Emma’s hair, Natalie held her close, aware there were tears trickling down her own face.

  While Emma sobbed and sobbed, Natalie murmured every consoling thing she could think of—knowing that nothing would really help.

  Finally, Emma’s crying grew less tortured and the shudders racking her little body became weaker. Eventually she let go of Natalie and wiped her face.

  She was such a picture of misery that merely looking at her brought fresh tears to Natalie’s eyes.

  “Here,” she said, digging some tissues from her pocket. “Blow.”

  Emma blew her nose about a dozen times, then said, “Why did she have to die?”

  Natalie took the girl’s little hands in hers and quietly said, “She got too badly hurt in the fire, Emma. The doctors did everything they could, but she was just too badly hurt.”

  When more tears spilled down Emma’s cheeks, she eased one of her hands from Natalie’s to wipe them away—but continued to hold on tightly with the other.

  “Did you tell my grandma?”

  “Yes.”

  “Where is she?”

  “In my office. She feels terribly sad, just like you, but she’ll be here soon.”

  “Did she cry?”

  “Yes.”

  Emma was silent for a long minute. “Now I don’t have a father or a mother,” she whispered at last. “Solo mi abuelita.” Only my grandma.

  “Oh, darling,” Natalie murmured, brushing a strand of hair back from Emma’s face. “Oh, darling, I know how awful this is.”

  “But my grandma will take care of me. Won’t she?” Emma gazed straight into Natalie’s eyes, as if she was certain she’d find the truth there.

  Natalie cringed inside. “Emma, you’re going to be just fine. By the time you get out of the hospital there’ll be a place for you to live and—”

  “Will it be our old apartment?”

  “I don’t know, darling. But I do know there’ll be a place.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yes.”

  “You promise?”

  Just as she said “I promise” the privacy curtain opened partway.

  “Abuelita!” Emma cried.

  “Nietecita!” Señora Perez stepped forward, her arms outstretched.

  Natalie moved away from the bed and for a moment simply stood watching them embrace—both of them in tears.

  She’d have to talk to the head nurse about keeping a special eye on Emma tonight. And on Señora Perez, for that matter.

  After a few more seconds, she quietly pulled the curtain fully closed again and walked across the room, managing to make it into the hall before her own tears began to flow once more.

  * * *

  “SECOND OFFICE ON the left,” the nurse told Hank.

  “Thanks.”

  He strode the few yards down the hall and stopped outside the open door.

  Natalie was sitting at her desk, looking desperately unhappy and totally drained.

  It wasn’t tough to imagine how she felt. One of the worst parts of his job was having to tell people that a person they’d loved was dead.

  Man, he’d known this would be rough on her. But there hadn’t been a thing he could do about it.

  Except what he’d done. Come straight back so she wouldn’t have to wait around for him.

  Just as he was about to say something, she noticed him standing there.

  Looking puzzled, she said, “Wasn’t I supposed to call you?”

  He shrugged. “How bad was it?”

  “Pretty bad.”

  When she left it at that, he said, “After we dropped you off, I started thinking you might end up wanting some quiet time. Without Robbie jabbering away, I mean. So while I was driving home I phoned Mary Gerard—the mother of his friend Gary.

  “They live just down the road, and she’s forever dropping Gary off to play at the house, so I figured she owes me. Well, actually, it’s Audrey she owes, but...

  “At any rate, I left Robbie at her place and came back here. I’ve been visiting Betty for the past half hour.”

  “They let you into ICU?”

  “Uh-uh. She’s doing so well they’ve moved her out of Intensive Care. And her daughter was there, so I got a full update. The daughter’s arranging for twenty-four-hour private nursing, and barring the unexpected she’ll be able to go home in only a day or two.”

  “That’s great,” Natalie said with a small smile.

  He nodded. “But getting back to Robbie, Mary’s keeping him until after dinner. So if you feel like going someplace for coffee we’ve got lots of time.

  “You are finished here, aren’t you?” he asked, suddenly wondering if this had been a bad idea.

  Maybe she’d intended to leave calling him for a while. Maybe she’d have preferred to be alone right now.

  “Yes, I’m finished,” she said.

  Good. Then he hadn’t made a mistake.

  “It’s just that Cynthia’s in a meeting, and I was thinking I should let her know how things went before I left. But that can wait till tomorrow.”

  She locked her office and they headed out of the hospital. Hank waited until they’d reached the Jeep before suggesting coffee again.

  “If it doesn’t matter to you,” she said as he started the engine, “I’d just as soon go home and have some there. I think sitting out back and staring at the trees is about all I’m good for.”

  He nodded, the phrase “go home” lodging in his mind.

  Oh, he knew she didn’t actually consider his house her home, yet the words had started him thinking, once more, that if she’d only...

  But he knew her feelings about where “home” was, and there was no point in contemplating a possibility that would never develop into anything concrete.

  Given that, and since she clearly didn’t feel like talking, he spent the remainder of the drive with his thoughts focused on a case that was giving him and Travis headaches.

  There were some loose ends they had to tie up before they could arrest their perp, and neither of them had any brilliant ideas about how they were going to do it.

  “Hank?” Natalie said as he turned into the drive.

  “Uh-huh?”

  “Thanks for insisting on playing chauffeur. You were right about how I’d be feeling.”

  “Of course I was. I’m psychic. Haven’t you realized that by now?”

  He smiled; she sort of smiled back.

  “If you want to change out of your dress,” he said, cutting the engine, “I’ll put the coffee on.”

  “Hey, you are psychic. It’s much better to sit and stare at the trees in jeans.”

  This time, she managed a smile so much closer to normal that the cute little dimple appeared beside her mouth.

  He eyed it for a second, thinking thoughts he knew he should not be thinking. Then he forced his gaze from her and opened the Jeep’s door.

  * * *

  NATALIE SIPPED A LITTLE more of her coffee, still wondering if she should have stayed at the hospital longer.

  When she’d told Hank that she’d been waiting to talk to Cynthia, that had been only half the truth. She’d also been trying to decide whether to go back to Emma’s room for a while.

  On the one hand, she’d realized it was a bad idea from her perspective, knew she’d already let herself get too emotionally involved for her own good.

  But on the other hand, she’d been worried that both Emma and Señora Perez were so upset it might be better if they had someone with them.

  However, Hank’s arrival had made her decision for her. If she’d told him she was considering spending the evening holding their hands...

  She gla
nced at him, remembering how, in the very beginning, he’d warned her that agreeing to make the Perezes her special project was a mistake.

  He’d been right, of course. The same as he’d been right about how badly she’d be feeling after telling them Emma’s mother had died.

  She simply hadn’t managed to remain professionally detached, and now she felt utterly overwhelmed by their situation—just didn’t know what she was going to do to help them. What she could do to help them.

  Absently she pushed her hair back from her face, telling herself that tomorrow she’d discuss it with Cynthia.

  “Feeling restless?” Hank said.

  She forced a smile. “Playing psychic again?”

  He laughed a deep, quiet laugh that touched something inside her.

  She wished with all her heart it hadn’t, but wishing didn’t make things so.

  Somehow, her feelings for Hank had grown so strong that her heart beat faster every time she saw him. It was the last thing she’d wanted to happen, and probably the worst part was that there was far more to it than simple attraction.

  Oh, not that she didn’t appreciate his dark good looks.

  But what had initially drawn her to him was his quiet manner, his sense of humor, the way he was with Robbie...the way he was with her.

  When she’d shown up at his door he could have slammed it in her face. He hadn’t, though. Instead, he was being as fair as he could be, as considerate as...

  Slowly, she mentally shook her head because, despite herself, she’d fallen half in love with the man. And now...

  Now it was going to hurt something fierce when she left.

  But since sitting here contemplating that would do nothing to improve her mental state, she gestured toward the split-rail fence—with the woods stretching beyond it—and said, “Is that private property or could we take a walk?”

  “It’s a nature preserve. Robbie and I wander around in it all the time. I’m surprised he hasn’t dragged you down there,” he added, pushing himself out of his chair.

  “Actually, he tried to this morning,” she said, following Hank off the patio and letting her gaze linger on his broad shoulders. There was something so very powerful about the way he moved that watching him was...

  An incredibly unwise move, she told herself firmly.