The Baby Rescue

by Jessica Matthews

  Nikki peeked in on Emma. “She’s fast asleep,” she said when she rejoined Galen in the living room. “Are you hungry? How about a scoop of ice cream before you leave?”

  “I’d rather taste something sweeter.”

  His breath brushed across the bridge of her nose and forced her own lungs to struggle in their simple task of moving air. “What would that be?” she managed to choke out in a hoarse voice.

  “I’ll show you.”

  He pulled her close and took her mouth in one smooth action that left her reeling, as if a bolt of lightning had shot from head to toe. Then he stopped abruptly, but his hold didn’t slacken. For several long minutes he simply stared at her, his face wreathed in shadows as he waited silently.

  She hadn’t realized until that moment how hard it must have been for him to walk away a year ago, because refusing the unspoken question shining out of his eyes required a strength she didn’t possess. Perhaps he’d changed, as he’d said, and perhaps he hadn’t. But weren’t some things in life worth the risk?

  Dear Reader,

  Welcome to my HOPE CITY series, where people find love as they pursue their dreams and aspirations.

  The idea for this series grew out of the knowledge that we’ve all entertained hopes at one time or another. So I wanted to create a town where my characters not only give hope to others through their profession, but, for various reasons, also cling to it themselves.

  The Baby Rescue is the second story, where the bond that grows between two people who care for a baby really proves how important trust and dependability are in any relationship. Look for some of Hope City Hospital’s other doctors—Mark Cameron and Justin St. James—in future stories where the combination of medicine and romance gives the community its name.

  Happy reading!

  Jessica Matthews

  The Baby Rescue

  Jessica Matthews

  CONTENTS

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ONE

  “HAVING problems?”

  Bent over the restroom doorknob with a hairpin in the key slot, Nicole Lawrence stiffened at the sound of the familiar baritone. After learning that Galen Stafford was a staff ER physician here at Hope City Hospital during yesterday’s orientation tour, she’d been steeling herself for this moment when their awkward past would catch up to their equally awkward present.

  Some might have considered it serendipitous for the two of them to land in the same hospital a year after they’d graduated from residency training, but Nikki did not. Of all the places she could have been sent to work, why did Galen have to be here?

  Idly, she wondered if Emily Post or Miss Manners had ever covered the proper way to greet a man she’d once tried—and failed—to seduce.

  She only wished their first face-to-face encounter since they’d parted company hadn’t occurred at the exact moment her recalcitrant six-year-old patient had turned the restroom into his sanctuary. So much for proving her competence to a former fellow resident, even if he’d seen her in far worse situations than this.

  Bluffing her way through was her only choice. It wouldn’t be the first time she’d hidden something from him.

  She straightened slowly as she turned to meet his gaze. Although she’d tried to mentally prepare herself for this moment, the magnetism she’d felt when she’d first met him at St Luke’s Medical Center in what seemed a lifetime ago instantly pulled at her. For a split second she weakened and drank in his appearance, letting herself remember only the good times they’d shared.

  The love she’d felt for him, the love that she had been certain had withered over the past year, instantly stirred as if preparing to bloom. Determined to deny it, she forced herself to remember his rejection and her embarrassment after the night that could have become so special.

  To give credit where it was due, he’d tried to soften the blow to her ego with an explanation, but by then she hadn’t cared about his reasons, only the outcome. To save face, she’d hidden her hurt behind a practiced smile and had pretended that all had been well for their remaining weeks together.

  It was time for a repeat performance.

  “Hi, Galen. Long time no see,” she said, hoping she sounded as warm and friendly as possible when she was irritated with herself for still suffering from an annoying case of unrequited love.

  The lazy grin she remembered appeared on his handsome face as he eyed her from head to toe. “You haven’t changed a bit.”

  “There’s bound to be a few changes,” she answered lightly. “Nothing stays the same.”

  “You’re right,” he agreed. “I’ve added a few wrinkles, a few gray hairs, and a few pounds.” He patted an abdomen that seemed extremely trim in Nikki’s opinion.

  Those crinkles around his eyes didn’t amount to much and she couldn’t see any silver strands in his pecan-brown hair. As for the few pounds he’d added, they’d ended up in all the right places, filling out his tall form with muscles that would have done any athlete proud.

  If she’d found him irresistible and had fancied herself in love with him when they had been residents, she didn’t have a chance at successfully fighting her attraction to him now.

  “All for the better,” she said politely, palming the hairpin as she tried to think of a way to send him on his way, both for her peace of mind and so she could return to the task at hand. Before she could put a coherent thought together, he pointed to the door.

  “What’s going on? Is the door stuck?”

  “You could say that,” she said slowly, wondering how she could skirt the issue without telling a complete untruth.

  “I’d offer to break it down, but the maintenance department wouldn’t be too happy.”

  “Oh, no. That isn’t necessary,” she hastened to reassure him, aware that with his physique he probably could. “We have everything under control. It’s nothing we can’t handle,” she added, glancing at the two women on either side of her—her nurse, forty-five-year-old Lynette Hayes, and Casey Owens’s mother, Jill. She’d hoped they would nod in agreement, but both women wore distinct we-need-help expressions that Galen would have had to be blind not to notice.

  “There are other facilities to use,” he commented, his chocolate-brown eyes twinkling with merriment. “I know you’ve only been at Hope for a few days and probably don’t know your way around, but this wing has two other restrooms.”

  Nikki braced herself against the warm feeling his dark gaze had once again created in her chest. She simply would not allow herself to fall back into old habits of imagining the impossible. He hadn’t wanted her then, so she wouldn’t foolishly think that he would want her now, no matter how engaging he was. They’d been friends and he hadn’t wanted to change that.

  “I’ll make a point to check them out,” she commented. “Now, I’m sure you have things to do and people to see, so don’t let us keep you.”

  “You’re not,” he answered with the boyish grin that charmed his women patients and made it difficult for those in the grandparent generation to believe he was a highly skilled and experienced physician. “I was coming to visit you.”

  “Me?” What rotten luck, she thought as she toyed with the hairpin. “What for?”

  “Lunch. For old times’ sake?”

  “I’m busy.”

  “Breaking into the restroom?”

  She heaved a sigh. So much for secrecy. From the curiosity in his eyes, he wouldn’t leave until he knew exactly what was going on. “If you must know,” she said a trif
le crossly, “a six-year-old has barricaded himself inside.”

  “A patient?”

  “Yes.”

  “What’s wrong with him?”

  Mrs Owens answered. “A sore throat.”

  “Strep?” he asked Nikki.

  Nikki shrugged. “I can’t say for sure. He took off before I could examine him.”

  Galen’s grin widened and a familiar impish sparkle appeared in his eyes. “My, my. Two days on the job and you’ve already earned an unsavory reputation with the young crowd, Dr Lawrence.”

  Nikki opened her mouth to protest, but Lynette broke in.

  “It’s my fault,” the nurse confessed. “He asked if he’d get a shot like the last time and I said that we’d have to see what the doctor said. Before I knew it, he jumped off the table, ran out of the room and down the hall, then locked himself in here.”

  Galen laughed. “There never was a dull moment around you, Nik. This is great.”

  Nikki crossed her arms, irritated as much by his use of her nickname from their happier days together as by him finding their predicament so humorous. “I beg to differ.”

  “Sorry. I know it’s not funny, but…” He shrugged.

  “I’m sure we’ll laugh about this someday, but not now,” Nikki told him.

  “You’re right.” His grin disappeared. “Have you tried a key?”

  “If I had one, do you think I’d be trying the hairpin trick?” She didn’t wait for his reply before she added, “We’ve been waiting for someone from Housekeeping or Maintenance to bring a master key, but either they’re busy or they’ve forgotten.”

  “How long has he been in there?”

  She glanced at Lynette and Mrs Owens. “Twenty minutes or so.”

  “Have you tried talking him out?”

  Nikki’s tongue formed a sarcastic comment but, considering their audience, it wasn’t appropriate for one physician to argue with another. Instead, she glared at him. “We have. We all have.”

  If that was Galen’s best suggestion, she’d better get back to work. She bent down to try her hairpin in the lock again as she raised her voice to speak through the closed door.

  “Casey? It’s lunchtime. Would you like to come out and eat? The cafeteria is serving chicken nuggets today. Your mom says they’re your favorite.”

  His reply was hoarse, but adamant. “Don’t want any.”

  “How about a nice cup of ice cream? Or a Popsicle?”

  “No.”

  “I’ll bet you’re getting thirsty for something cold,” Nikki coaxed as she jiggled her pin and listened for a click.

  “I can get my own drink.” The sound of water running confirmed his statement.

  Galen crouched beside her. “Have you done this hairpin thing before?”

  “No,”

  Nikki said, intent on her task. “But once, when my older brother, Derek, wouldn’t stop tormenting my friend and me, we locked ourselves in his bedroom to teach him not to mess with us. Fifteen minutes later, he’d picked the lock with a hairpin and chased us out.”

  She grinned, remembering. “The good thing was, he left us alone for the rest of the evening.”

  Thinking she’d turned the tumbler, she rattled the knob, but it still wouldn’t turn. She muttered an unladylike “Damn” under her breath.

  “This could take all day,” he commented.

  “I never said I was a locksmith,” she reminded him. “For the record, though, you make a much better door than a window.”

  And, oh, what a fine door he was. Six feet tall, solid, and built to last.

  Irritated by her own thoughts and aggravated by how easily they’d formed, she wiggled the hairpin with more force than necessary.

  “Sorry.” He straightened. “If Casey doesn’t want an injection, did anyone consider promising that he wouldn’t get one?”

  Nikki shifted her gaze to meet his. “Now, why didn’t we think of that?” she answered sarcastically. “Of course we did. He didn’t buy it.”

  “Maybe he will if he hears it from me. One man to another.”

  She wanted to refuse, but her diplomatic efforts had failed and it didn’t appear as if picking the lock would succeed any time soon either. “Be my guest,” she grudgingly conceded.

  Galen knocked on the door. “Casey? I’m Dr Stafford. I understand you don’t like shots.”

  “They hurt.”

  “Will you come out if I promise that none of us will give you one?”

  “I like being in here.”

  Galen glanced at Nikki, then at Casey’s mother, who shrugged.

  “I’m sure you do,” he said. “But your mother wants to go home and I don’t think you want to spend the afternoon and evening by yourself.”

  For a few seconds silence reigned, as if Casey was digesting this information. “Are there strange noises here?” he finally asked cautiously.

  “Lots of them,” Galen said cheerfully. “Hospitals are noisy places because people work here all night. You’d sleep better at home in your own bed.”

  Another pause. “You promise I won’t get a shot?”

  Nikki interrupted with a whisper. “You don’t know what’s wrong with him. What if he’s—?”

  He cut her off. “If he can pull off this type of stunt, he can’t be deathly ill.”

  Nikki conceded the point.

  Galen flashed a thumbs-up at her before he addressed the door. “I’m positive, Casey. No shots.”

  “Cross your heart?”

  “Cross my heart,” Galen repeated.

  Another pause. “OK,” came the answer. “Hey, Mom. Did you know that if I stand on the sink on my tippy toes, I can touch the ceiling?”

  A look of horror crossed Mrs Owens’s face. “Dear Lord,” she breathed.

  “How big is this kid?” Nikki mumbled to Lynette.

  “Definite basketball-player material,” Lynette responded with a shrug.

  “Provided he doesn’t break his neck before then.”

  “Stay calm,” Galen murmured, before he raised his voice. “Are you standing on the sink now?”

  “Yeah. Hey, there’s a little spider web in the corner. We have them at our house, too, don’t we, Mama?”

  Mrs Owens closed her eyes as if praying for strength.

  “Forget the spider web,” Galen said firmly. “I want you to get down before you fall.”

  “Do I have to? It’s really neat up here.”

  “Yes!” Galen and Mrs Owens chimed in at the same time.

  Casey sounded reluctant. “All right. I—Whoops…” His word ended in a scream, followed by a crash and an eerie silence.

  Mrs Owens covered her mouth with both hands as her eyes widened with dismay. “Oh, no. He fell.”

  Success was now imperative and extremely urgent. Nikki wiggled the pin, hardly aware of the sheen of sweat dotting her brow.

  “Come on, Nikki,” Galen urged.

  “I know. I’m trying.”

  Suddenly Casey howled, which, considering the alternative, was a more welcome sound. “Mama,” he cried out.

  Mrs Owens placed a palm against the door. “Mama’s here, Casey,” she crooned. “Can you open the door?”

  “My arm hurts. And I’m bleeding.” His wail grew in volume after that pronouncement.

  “We’ll have to break the door down,” Galen said grimly as he placed a hand on her shoulder in an obvious gesture to get her to move. “Step aside. We can’t wait any longer.”

  Nikki ignored the strange sensation of heat to focus on her job. “Hold on. I might have it.” She carefully turned the pin until she heard a faint but familiar click. She turned the knob with relief. “We’re in.”

  Galen immediately pushed open the door to reveal the tow-headed youngster sitting on the floor, cradling his arm as blood from a gash under his chin ran down his green-striped T-shirt.

  “Mama,” he cried as his mother rushed to crouch beside him and enfold him in her arms.

  “Oh, sweetie,” she said, h
er voice choked. “You’re going to be fine.”

  “Mama,” he wailed louder as Nikki yanked a fistful of paper towel from the dispenser.

  Galen accepted the compress she’d made and pressed it to the cut under Casey’s chin. “Looks like he hit his chin on the trash can. He’s lucky. It could have been worse.”

  Nikki eyed the distance. Three feet wasn’t a lot, but it was enough. A patch of water in the sink, obviously a splash from when Casey had gotten himself a drink, had probably caused the daredevil-in-training’s foot to slip. Somehow she suspected this young man would cause his parents many sleepless nights and turn their hair prematurely gray.

  Galen picked the boy off the floor. “Come on, big guy. Let’s go see what you did to yourself.” He looked at Nikki. “My place or yours?”

  “He’s my patient. Take him to room three,” Nikki directed.

  “Suit yourself.”

  She led the entourage into the exam cubicle and quickly donned a pair of gloves while Galen placed a sniveling Casey on the exam table.

  “Let’s take a look at your chin,” she said kindly, tipping his head back and removing the compress while she tried to forget Galen’s presence in the background. Blood welled in the inch-long gash and she quickly mopped away the excess with a thick square of gauze that Lynette supplied before the nurse busied herself taking his pulse and temperature.

  “Will he need stitches?” Mrs Owens asked in a low voice.

  “He could use a few,” Nikki admitted. If she went with the traditional treatment, she’d be using several needles—one for the local anesthetic injection and one to actually sew the wound closed. Considering Casey’s aversion to shots and the promise Galen had made, stitching his gash was not an option. At least, not an option if she wanted the boy to trust her the next time he needed medical attention. From what she’d seen so far of Casey’s temperament, he would definitely be back.

  “Oh, dear.”

  She quickly thought of an alternative. “There’s a glue available that works quite well, especially on young children, but I don’t know if…” She glanced at Galen, eyebrows raised.

  He answered as if he’d read her mind. “We have it.”