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“Who takes care of little kids, like you do?” Allie asked. The expression on her face was so determined, he knew what he had to do.
“No, not that kind of doctor, sweetheart.” He braced himself for the hit. “Remember when we talked about what having surgery means?” OK, so most parents weren’t quite as forthright as he was in his child-rearing ideas, but he didn’t believe in lying, not even when it was about something Allie probably wouldn’t even understand and definitely didn’t need to know.
“Where they have to make a zipper so they can see your insides?”
He chuckled. “Actually, yes.” Which meant she did listen to him. Music to the ears of a long-suffering parent. “She’s the kind of doctor who makes the zipper.”
He thought back to the conversation with Keera. Strained, at best. Maybe more like totally stressed out. Someone he pictured as nervous. Someone he also pictured as... One momentary distraction was all it took, and Reid Adams fell victim to his daughter, who landed the perfectly placed water balloon center chest. “Got me,” he shouted, dropping to the ground, where five or six other children converged on him and bombarded him with water balloons the way his own daughters had done.
“No fair,” he shouted while laughs and squeals muffled any protest he wanted to make. Not that he really wanted to protest. This was part of his fun. What meant the most to him now was thinking about how his daughters would be exhilarated, and knowing that his two little conspirators had led a group of normally sedentary kids into an adventure was, probably, the most fun of all.
Then he wondered about Dr. Keera Murphy. Would she have seen any of this as fun? Or worthless, as she wasn’t a big one for children? More than that, why did it even matter to him? And why did he make a mental note to do a little Internet surfing on her when he had time?
“No more water balloons,” he shouted, trying to stand up. But to no avail. As he rose to his knees, a whole new group of water ballooners swarmed him, loaded down with filled balloons of every size, color and shape imaginable. He barely had enough time to cover his face before the fun began.
* * *
“I know what I said, Dr. Murphy, and I’ve got a line on someone who might take her later tonight or some time tomorrow, if there’s nobody else available. But Mrs. Blanchard prefers her wards to be toilet trained, and as Megan isn’t, I’m not sure she’ll get all the attention she needs.”
They were sitting in the parents’ waiting room across from the hospital daycare center. A very cheerful place. Lots of bright yellows and oranges, like they were tying the conventional child stimuli colors into their parents. This was only the second time Keera had ever been there. The first had been that morning, when she’d left Megan in the able care of Dolores Anderson, the director. “She could be traumatized.”
“Maybe, and if that’s the case, I’m wondering if a pediatric hospital ward might be the best place for her temporarily.”
“Seriously, you want to stick her in a hospital?”
No, that was not acceptable. While she didn’t have any strong urges toward the child, she wasn’t some cold-hearted dungeon master who wanted to lock all the untrained kiddies away until they potty trained themselves. This was a child who needed attention, not isolation, and so far all of Consuela’s ideas seemed more like isolation.
“Look, just keep trying with Mrs. Blanchard, OK? If she won’t take Megan, maybe she’ll have a suggestion about who can.”
“We’ll work it out, Doctor. I promise, that’s all I’ve been doing today.”
Consuela was deliberately not making eye contact with Keera, trying to keep her gaze focused on anything else, and Keera accepted that. She’d probably do the same thing if she found herself in that same spot. But what Consuela didn’t understand was that so far today childcare had been a breeze because she’d had the help of the whole hospital daycare staff there to get her through it.
Tomorrow was another story. It was her day off—the start of her week off, in fact. And that’s when the reading commenced with a whole stack of medical journals she’d had for a year or more. Nowhere in those plans was there room for a toddler.
“I’m not criticizing you, and I hope you don’t think that I was. But I grew up in the foster-care system. A lot of it in institutions, and it’s horrible. Being passed off from one place to another, never knowing where you might end up next. I never got adopted because I was older when I went into the system, so I was in a grand total of nine different homes and three different institutions, all before the age of eighteen. And, no, I wasn’t a good child because of that.” She closed her eyes, fighting back those memories.
“This child doesn’t need that kind of trauma in her life.” As much as she’d disliked Kevin by the end of their marriage, Keera knew he would have been a very good father. A doting daddy. Megan didn’t deserve to go from that to cold indifference, which was what would happen if she was sent to an institution. Or even the wrong foster-family.
“It’s not always a traumatic situation, Doctor. We have very good caregivers.”
“Yes, I’m sure you do, and I admire people who would take on the responsibility. Right now, though, Megan needs more that what you’re able to find her, and I know that’s not your fault. But it’s not her fault either. Yet she’s the one who’s going to be bounced around or institutionalized.”
And she was waging the battle with the wrong person. She knew that. But the right person—the one who should have made arrangements for Megan in the event something like this happened—was dead. True to Kevin’s form, he hadn’t thought about the practical things. Hadn’t when they’d been married, hadn’t after they were divorced, and now his daughter was paying the price.
“I’m sorry about your childhood, Doctor, and I understand your frustration but, like I said, I’m doing my best. There aren’t any distant relatives suited to take her, or who even want her, for that matter, so I have to come up with another plan. But you’ve got to understand that in the short term Megan might have to go to a hospital pediatric ward, a group home or even the county home. It’s not what I want to do but what I may have to do if you can’t or won’t keep her for a little while longer.”
“In the meantime...” Resignation crept in a little too quickly, but maybe she saw something of herself in Megan. Abandoned child. It was hard to get past that. “If I keep her a day or two, that doesn’t mean I want to be a temporary guardian or any other kind of custodial figure. It simply means I’ll feed and clothe her while you continue looking for a better situation.”
“Which I’ll do,” Consuela promised.
“Good. So now I’ve got to go to the grocery and buy a few things a toddler would eat. Maybe pick up some clothes, toys...” OK, so she was relating to the situation but not to Megan herself. It was the best she could do. Better than most people would do, she thought as she bundled up the child and took her to the car. This was an honest effort, and it kept the child out of all those awful places Keera knew so intimately. Shuddered even thinking about them. Dark places, bad for children...
While having children had never been part of her plan—past, present or future—there’d been a time when she’d needed what Megan needed now, and no one had reached out to her. So how could she refuse?
“Megan, did you have a good day today?” she asked as they wended their way through the hospital corridors on her way to her car. “Play with lots of nice toys? Meet new people? Conquer any toddler nations?”
In response, Megan laid her head against Keera’s shoulder and sighed.
“You’re congested,” Keera said, listening to the slight rattling she could hear coming from the girl’s lungs. Immediately in doctor mode, she veered off into one of the pediatric exam cubicles, pulled her stethoscope from her pocket and listened. Nothing sounded serious, but the fact remained that the child had something going on that needed to be attended to...sooner, not later. And every thought in her went to Reid Adams.
CHAPTER TWO
“IT’S OK, MEGAN,” she said, barely creeping along the mountain highway. “We’ll be there soon, and Dr. Adams will take good care of you.” She hoped so, even though she wasn’t sure the message had gotten through because he hadn’t called her back. Something about mountains and cellphone interference.
“You’ve seen him before, and he’s very good.” Not that the sleeping child cared. But Keera did. She wanted some familiarity for Megan, and Reid Adams was the closest thing she could think of. And maybe, just maybe, he’d have a solution for the child’s situation. “We’re not far away now, so you just sleep there, and when you wake up things will be better. I promise.”
What was she promising, though? What, really, could a trip to an isolated camp in the mountains in the middle of the night do for Megan? Nothing. That’s what! But it made Keera feel better. Feel like she was doing something rather than simply sitting around waiting for something to happen or, worse, doing the wrong thing. Reid Adams was all about children, he had children. And for some strange reason, he seemed like her best port in the storm. A beacon of light.
“He’ll know what to do,” she reassured the sleeping child. “Yes, I’m sure of it.” Because if he didn’t...well, Keera didn’t want to think about the alternative, since it wasn’t acceptable. That was something she knew in profound ways no child should ever have to know. Confusion, fear and long, empty days and nights when the futility threatened to eat you alive. “He’ll fix you up, and he’ll help me help you, too.”
Those were mighty big expectations for one pediatrician to fulfill, but it’s all Keera had to cling to. Reid Adams had to come through for both their sakes. He just had to!
* * *
He wasn’t sure who she was, but for some reason he thought he could wager a pretty good guess. Carrying a child in her arms, she was trying to make her way up the dirt path without stumbling, and she was quite obviously not a woman of the woods. Determined, though. With the scowl of a mighty huntress set across one of the softest, prettiest faces he’d ever seen in his life.
Which was what had brought Keera Murphy to mind. She’d tracked him down and she was bringing him the child. He wasn’t sure why, wasn’t even sure that he liked the idea that the huntress had set her sights on him. But something about a woman who would trudge all the way out here in the middle of the night just to find him did fascinate him.
“You would be Dr. Murphy?” he asked, as she approached the porch of his cabin.
“I would be. And this is Megan Murphy. She’s sick. Since nobody knows her, nobody knows a thing about her, well, with you being her physician and all, I thought you’d be the best one to take a look.”
“You couldn’t find another physician closer to you? Or even track down one of my colleagues?”
“You didn’t get my phone call?”
“Mountains and cellphones aren’t always a good combination, even in this day and age. Reception out here is spotty, which is why we still rely on the landline.”
“Well, I called because I hoped she’d remember you. With everything she’s gone through, I thought that would be good. Maybe it doesn’t matter, but...” Keera started up the wooden steps and Reid took the child from her arms, immediately seeing how sick she was.
“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 but 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...”