The Baby Rescue

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The Baby Rescue Page 8

by Jessica Matthews


  “Don’t you know that all work and no play isn’t good for you?”

  She slowly straightened his collar as if it were her right to do so. Six months ago he wouldn’t have minded. Now he did. The only woman’s touch he wanted to feel was Nikki’s.

  “I’ve heard that.” He stepped out of range and grabbed the first can he saw off the shelf. Realizing it was the wrong one, he replaced it.

  “If you ever have any free time, give me a call.”

  “With things as they are,” he said, being purposely vague, “I probably won’t.”

  “Too bad.” Suddenly her eyes narrowed, as if she was speculating on why he happened to be in this particular part of the store in the first place. “Formula, Galen?”

  “I’m helping a friend.”

  “Ah.” She sounded satisfied with his answer. “You do look rather lost. Can I help?”

  He finally noticed what he hadn’t before. Annabelle wore a red store smock and name tag, so this was obviously her assigned area. From the way she moved in close to him, she also intended to offer more personal merchandise than what her employer stocked.

  Great. Just what he needed. First Trina, the waitress at the restaurant, and now Annabelle. If Nikki saw her…

  “Is this your department?” He mentally crossed his fingers, hoping it was not.

  “Oh, no. I cover the intimate apparel.” She winked. “But when I walked by and saw you, I just had to stop and say hello.”

  How lucky could a man get? he thought glumly. Fortunately, he spied the brand he needed and began scooping cans into his arms.

  “Thanks for the offer, but I found what I need.”

  “You don’t have a cart. Let me help you,” she said, taking a can out of his hand and tucking it in the crook of her arm.

  Before Galen could decline, he heard Nikki’s voice. “Oh, good. You found her formula.”

  He turned, wishing that his past hadn’t collided with his future twice in the same evening.

  “I did.” He hastily loaded his cans in the cart, tucking them around the other items Nikki had already stacked inside. “Do we have everything now?”

  “I think so,” she said calmly. “But won’t you introduce me to your friend?”

  Damn! “Nikki Lawrence, Annabelle Sanders. Annabelle, Nikki. Now, are we ready?”

  Nikki smiled at Annabelle, apparently not in as big a hurry to leave as he was. “I’m pleased to meet you.”

  Galen mentally groaned in spite of the smile he’d pasted on his face.

  “Yeah. Same here,” the other woman responded, although curiosity was clearly eating at her. “I’d better get back to my department before I’m missed. See you around, Galen. Take care of yourself.”

  “I will.” If he ever did see Annabelle again, it would be by accident rather than by choice.

  Nikki waggled her fingers in a goodbye wave, then headed toward the furniture display. “Isn’t it nice that we’re running into so many of your friends?”

  Certain he would step into quicksand if he wasn’t careful, he changed the subject. “What sort of crib are you looking for?”

  “I’m not sure.” She pushed the cart toward the closest one. “What do you think of this type?”

  Pleased that he’d diverted her attention, he relaxed and stood next to a white crib. “It’s OK. Do you want it wood-stained or painted?”

  “I prefer the wood look. How long have you known Annabelle?”

  “Not long. What about this one?” He stood in front of another baby bed.

  She eyed it, then shook her head. “Nice, but too expensive. We don’t need one that converts to a day bed or has drawers underneath. A basic bed will do. Do you know Annabelle as an acquaintance, or was she more than that?”

  “We went out a few times to dinner and a movie. This metal crib is different. Unusual.”

  She shook her head. “Too institutional-looking, even with the fancy curliques. After seeing her in action, I think she’d like to go out again.”

  Galen was getting tired of holding two conversations at once.

  “Yeah, but it isn’t going to happen. What do you think of this sleigh bed?” He busied himself by examining it closely.

  “It’s nice, but not what I had in mind. Is there any woman in town you haven’t dated?”

  “You,” he answered promptly.

  A smile tugged on her mouth. “What do you call what we’re doing tonight?”

  “Maybe I’m old-fashioned, but shopping for diapers and dining with a baby doesn’t constitute a date.”

  “It could count.”

  “But it won’t.” On this he was firm. “When we go to dinner without Miss Piglet, just you and me, we’ll call it a date.” He moved to the last crib on display—a model that met all of her requirements from the stain color to being on a close-out sale. “What do you think about this one?”

  “It has potential,” she said, running her hand along the straight headboard. “Other than me, is there anyone in Hope who hasn’t had the privilege of an evening with the most eligible Dr Galen Stafford?”

  “Yes, there are, but don’t ask for a list because I don’t know their names. Neither do I want to know them. Now, can we, please, focus on the baby bed and not my past love life?” He emphasized past for her benefit.

  Her gentle smile was as soothing as the touch of her hand on his arm. “You’re right. We’re here for a bed, nothing else. I’m sorry for teasing you, Galen, but I couldn’t resist it.”

  She’d been teasing? “Then you don’t mind about the others?” he asked cautiously.

  “I didn’t say that I didn’t mind,” she answered slowly. “However, I’m mature enough to accept that you haven’t lived like a monk. The important thing is what happens from now on.”

  He’d expected her dander to rise, and had received an unexpected dose of mercy. Relieved, he hauled her beside him for a quick but semi-satisfying hug. “I couldn’t have said it better.”

  Emma’s soft gurgles slowly became higher-pitched. “I think she’s feeling neglected,” Nikki said as Galen reluctantly released her.

  “I know the feeling,” he murmured.

  Nikki lifted the baby out of her infant carrier and held her to her shoulder. “We’re hurrying, sweet-pea,” she crooned. “As soon as we pay for your new bed, we’re going home.”

  Home. He liked the sound of that.

  On Monday morning, Nikki raced into the MEC, feeling as if she was already behind before her day had started. “I’m sorry I’m late,” she apologized to Jean and Lynette. “After being a model baby all weekend, Emma decided not to co-operate this morning.”

  Lynette grinned. “Babies sense when to throw a kink in the works, don’t they? My kids were the same way. When we didn’t have a time schedule to follow, they were great. When we did, I could count on having a major incident. So what did she do?”

  “You don’t want to know,” Nikki said darkly. “Suffice it to say that it required another bath.”

  Jean wrinkled her nose. “Ooh. One of those.”

  “Yeah. Just when we were getting ready to walk out of the door, too.” She tossed her purse in a file cabinet behind Jean for safekeeping. “So, who’s first?”

  “We are,” Jean answered. “You don’t get to see any patients until we know the story.”

  “The full story,” Lynette added. “No one’s here, anyway, so don’t leave out any details.”

  “OK, here goes.” Nikki drew a deep breath. “Emma is the daughter of a friend of mine who is in the military and was sent on a training mission. She brought Emma by on Friday and will be back for her in a few months.”

  Jean looked thoughtful. “That sounds credible.”

  “Galen and I thought so, too.”

  “But what about taking care of her in the meantime?” Lynette asked. “I assume you found a sitter?”

  “I took her to the hospital day care this morning.”

  “I thought they were full.”

  “
I’d heard that, too, but Galen knows Susan O’Conner, the director. He called her and she agreed to watch Emma since it would only be short term.”

  Once Nikki had learned that Susan was a divorcee, she suspected that Susan had been more than willing to do a favor—any favor—for Galen. For all Nikki knew, the two of them had gone out at some point, but she didn’t press him for details like she had with Trina and Annabelle. Just because she was trying to be mature in recognizing and accepting his past for what it was, it didn’t mean she wanted to face it every time she turned round. What she didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her.

  On the other hand, she didn’t want to hound him like a shrew about every woman he knew either. If this leopard sincerely had changed his spots, then she had to work on her own issues of trust and meet him halfway.

  “That’ll be handy,” Lynette remarked. “You can run over to the child-care center for a quick cuddle whenever you have a few minutes.”

  “I thought so, too,” Nikki confessed. “Although Galen will probably be over there as much as I will.”

  Jean smiled. “He’s quite taken with the baby?”

  “He practically spent the entire weekend at my place.”

  “It’s a good thing he is,” Jean stated in no uncertain terms. “I’ve been thinking about what you told us on Friday—about how her safety depended upon secrecy. It’s not a bad idea for you to have someone else around in case someone tries anything funny. Why, we could be dealing with a drug lord, terrorists, or the Mob! I read this marvelous book this weekend where—”

  “Let’s not let our imaginations run away with us,” Nikki said dryly. “As long as we stick to our story, no one will be the wiser. Understood?”

  “Loud and clear,” Jean said with a sniff. “I couldn’t live with myself if I said anything that might cause harm to that poor baby.”

  “I know.” Sensing that she needed to soothe Jean’s ruffled feathers, Nikki patted her arm. “I’m counting on you to stay alert for any strangers asking questions about us.”

  “I’ll let you know right away,” Jean promised, her good humor now restored by the prospect of her new mission.

  “If Dr Stafford spent all weekend with you,” Lynette said, “what did the three of you do? Or is that confidential information?” She winked.

  “Only if you consider putting Emma’s new crib together and helping me move furniture as being confidential. On Sunday he brought a stroller over, insisting that she needed to look around her neighborhood. I swear we walked for miles.”

  “He is keeping a close eye on you two.” Jean’s gaze turned speculative.

  “He’s only there to help me take care of Emma,” Nikki said defensively, although her face warmed several degrees as she remembered how he’d stopped by her apartment every night last week, long before Emma had dropped into the picture. Yet the whole scenario was still too new and too fraught with difficulties in spite of his declared intent for her to imply that a romance was in the air.

  “If you say so.”

  “He spends a lot of time with the baby, feeding her, playing with her…”

  “Changing her diapers?” Lynette raised an eyebrow.

  Nikki grinned. “He’s taken his turn.”

  Lynette clapped a hand over her chest. “Be still, my heart. My husband never changed a single one and we had three children.”

  “I’m sorry to hear it.”

  “Yeah, well, if he thinks he’ll keep his unblemished track record after the grandkids come, he can think again.”

  “It is rather sweet of Dr Stafford,” Jean said. “Who would have thought a baby would have turned him from a swinging single to a doting daddy?”

  “Ladies, ladies.” Nikki’s face warmed another ten degrees. “Didn’t we just have a talk about runaway imaginations?”

  Jean laughed. “Yeah, and I’d like to keep mine. Life is too boring otherwise.” She rose to unlock the patient entrance. “You two had better get busy because my arthritis is acting up and you know what that means.”

  “It’s going to rain?” Nikki answered helpfully.

  “We’re going to be swamped,” Lynette explained. As Nikki looked at her with skepticism, she shrugged. “I know, I know. As weird as it sounds, I didn’t believe it either, but I’m telling you, she’s right. You’ll see.”

  Nikki did, indeed, see. Patients streamed through the door all morning until she wondered how the waiting area could hold that many. She’d just watch Lynette help a twelve-year-old girl hobble into an exam room with a bloody bandage on her foot when she heard a commotion near Jean’s desk.

  “Why can’t I be seen now?” the man, wearing an expensive-looking tailored suit, demanded. “I have to be in court in a couple of hours.”

  “I’m sorry, but there are people ahead of you. People who are seriously injured,” Jean tried to explain.

  “Then they should be in the ER,” he snapped. “It was my understanding that this area is for minor emergencies.”

  Nikki held onto her temper with difficulty. He might be a lawyer, or higher in the judicial chain, and carry enough clout to send people jumping however high with a single grunt, but he was in her domain, where her word was law, not his.

  She interrupted. “May I help you?”

  “I certainly hope so,” the fellow snapped. “I’d like to see the doctor right away.”

  “And what’s your emergency?”

  “I have a mole that I want removed.”

  “I see.” Nikki pretended to consider. “And how is your situation more critical than the young lady whose foot is bleeding or the young man with abdominal pain and a fever?”

  “I’m due in court—” he began.

  “And these people have places to go, too,” she said sweetly. “Now, if you’ll have a seat, I’ll be with you shortly. Otherwise we can stand here and you can try to convince me to move you to the front of the line but, rest assured, sir, that you’ll only delay your treatment and everyone else’s.”

  He opened his mouth to argue, then snapped it closed as if he’d realized that quarreling was futile. “Fine,” he said shortly as he returned to his seat, folding his arms across his chest and glaring at everyone in general and Nikki in particular.

  Nikki cast a raised eyebrow at Jean, then hurried to deal with the twelve-year-old girl, who’d stepped on a nail.

  “Grandpa told me not to go out to the barn unless I had my heavy shoes on,” Lucy said tearfully, “but I just wanted to peek at the kittens.”

  Nikki unwrapped her foot and saw the puncture wound in Lucy’s heel. “Was the nail rusty?”

  Lucy’s grandfather answered. “It didn’t look like it when I pulled the board off her foot, but I didn’t want to take any chances so I brought her here.”

  “Rust or not, if it was in the barn, there are other nasty germs to worry about,” Nikki said as she irrigated the wound. “Did you see the kittens before you had your accident?”

  Lucy nodded, wiping her eyes. “They’re really cute. Grandpa says I can take one home with me if Mom will let me. I want the black one with the white tips on her ears.”

  “Lucy spends a week with us every summer,” her grandfather said. “This is the first time she’s ever gotten hurt. I should have checked for old boards lying around before she came.”

  “Well,” Nikki said as she taped gauze over the wound, “it’s not that bad and Lucy is a young lady who simply wasn’t as cautious as she knows how to be.”

  Lucy nodded. “I’ve never gotten hurt before.”

  “Accidents do happen,” Nikki said to the grandfather. “I’ll give her some antibiotics to take as a precaution. Do you know if she’s had a recent tetanus vaccination?”

  “I don’t know,” he admitted.

  “We’ll give her one, to be on the safe side. If she hasn’t had a booster since she was a baby, she’s due for her TD injection anyway.” Lucy was at the age when schools required students to receive a current tetanus and diptheria immunization.

>   “Thank you, Doctor,” the older man said gratefully.

  She stripped off her gloves and patted Lucy on the shoulder. “You won’t be able to put your full weight on your heel for a few days, so take it easy.”

  “I will.”

  “And wear sturdy shoes when you visit the barn.” She smiled.

  Lucy nodded. “I learned my lesson.”

  Nikki’s next patient was a twenty-year-old who complained of nausea and diffuse abdominal pain with rebound tenderness.

  “I’m afraid you have a classic case of appendicitis,” she told the lanky, bearded Arthur Richmond after her examination.

  He groaned. “Aw, man, I can’t have appendicitis. I have a comedy gig next week.”

  “Not any more,” she told him. “I’m going to order some lab work just to be sure, but while we’re waiting for the CBC results we’ll arrange for a surgical consult.”

  “Surgery.” He moaned once again. “Aw, I don’t want to lay in the hospital for a week and have stitches. How can I perform with my gut held together by a thread?”

  “Staples,” she corrected. “But you probably won’t have those either. I know of cases where the surgeon went through the belly button. Without complications, you’re out of the hospital in a couple of days, but it will still take time for your insides to heal.”

  “Aw, man. This was a good paying job, too.”

  “I’m sorry but sometimes things like this happen.” She patted his shoulder. “Cheer up. You’re healthy and we probably caught the problem before your appendix did something nasty like rupture. Then you’d be talking weeks of recuperation time.”

  “Yeah, I guess.”

  She smiled at his glum tone. “Someone will be right in to draw a blood sample.”

  Leaving him, she went to the next room where she found Mr Demandingly Obnoxious. According to the chart Lynette had started, his name was William H. Pettigrew, the Third.

  “Thanks for being so patient, Mr Pettigrew,” she said calmly. “What’s this about a mole?”

  “On my back,” he said as he shrugged off his shirt, revealing a well-tanned, muscular physique. “I play tennis three mornings a week with a friend of mine and he’s been hounding me to come in for an expert opinion. I’ve been rather busy—a big court case among other things—and I ignored it, but my friend positively insisted I do something today.” He paused. “What do you think?”

 

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