Healing The Md's Heart: Healing the MD's Heart
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A light knock on the door interrupted them and Lia, thinking it was the night nurse, got up to answer it. Instead, she found herself face-to-face with Cort Morente, a friend, but one of the last people she would have guessed she’d be seeing here and tonight.
“Cort—how did you know…?” She stared at him, completely confused. Duran had said he was in Luna Hermosa to meet with Rafe and now Rafe’s younger brother showed up here, out of the blue. “Is something wrong with one of the kids?” she asked, although she couldn’t imagine why Cort wouldn’t have just called her if there was a problem with one of his four children, even if it had been an emergency.
“No, they’re all fine. I wasn’t looking for you.” Cort looked behind her to where Duran had gotten to his feet and Lia instinctively stepped aside. The two men faced each other, Duran tense, already on the defensive, and Cort cautious, as if weighing his options before making a move. When he finally did, it easily qualified as something she’d never expected him to say.
“I came to see my brother.”
Duran’s first reaction was the completely irrelevant thought that maybe meeting unknown relations got easier after the first one. If so, by the time he’d gotten through all the relatives he seemed to have acquired, it should be simple, no struggling with mixed feelings or debating whether he was doing the right thing for Noah and himself.
Rafe Garrett had at least warned him, when Duran had called to postpone their meeting, that he and Ry Kincaid weren’t Duran’s only brothers. Five of Jed Garrett’s sons were living in Luna Hermosa and for some reason Rafe didn’t make clear, none of them wanted him to meet Jed first. He supposed this one had been elected to come here and determine what exactly it was that Duran wanted. From the steady, calculating gaze he got, Duran guessed Cort Morente’s business depended on him being a quick and accurate judge of character and that Cort was deciding the truth of his claim to being Jed’s son and what his motives were for showing up in Luna Hermosa.
Duran glanced back at Noah. His son slept on soundly, oblivious to the drama around him. Leaving Noah’s bedside wasn’t Duran’s first choice, but Noah would likely be asleep for hours yet and he didn’t want this first meeting with his Luna Hermosa relations constrained by the need for quiet and the concern Noah might wake up and overhear.
Lia must have sensed his hesitation because she took a step closer to the bed and told him, “I’ll stay with him.”
The rush of gratitude at her understanding seemed too intense, out of place for her simple gesture. But for an odd moment, Duran felt they were allies.
“If you wouldn’t mind—” he flicked a hand toward the door “—I think you could help explain. You understand…”
Without a pause, she nodded and after checking Noah once more, followed him and Cort outside the room.
Duran turned to Cort, not sure where to start.
Cort spoke up first. “This is not how we intended this meeting to happen. But when Rafe called and told us about your son, we wanted to see if there was anything we could do.” He made the offer and it sounded sincere. But there was a certain reservation in his manner—not quite suspicion, but a withholding of trust, an unwillingness to take Duran’s claim of kinship at face value.
He couldn’t blame the man; he hadn’t brought any proof of his blood tie to Jed Garrett. He had none for himself, except the word of the stranger who had given birth to him. But he had to convince Cort Morente to make good on that offer because he couldn’t afford to fail the way he had with his birth mother.
“Don’t take this wrong, but I’m finding it hard right now to get my head around going from being an only child to having six brothers,” Duran said slowly. “To be honest, though, it’s more than I could have hoped for under the circumstances, especially if you meant it when you said you wanted to help.”
“Mr. Forrester—” Lia began. “Duran,” she amended when he looked at her. “If it makes it any easier—” She stopped, and he could see in her eyes she wanted to intervene, maybe spare him having to say it, but knew it was his to tell.
“I’m not trying to make it harder,” Cort said, “but I can’t say I’m not curious about those circumstances. Jed doesn’t know you and your brother exist or, believe me, the rest of us would have heard about it by now. I have to wonder why you decided to track him down after all this time.”
“I never knew he existed, either. My—” he couldn’t call the woman his mother “—she didn’t put his name on my birth certificate. I had to find her first to get it.”
“Are you sure Jed’s your father then?”
“She is. She gave me his name and the name of his ranch and the town it was in. It’s all she gave me,” he added, unable to keep the anger that still lingered from his meeting with the woman out of his voice, “except to tell me about Ry—Ry Kincaid, my twin. I didn’t know about him until a few weeks ago. We were split up after we were born.” Drawing in a long breath, he tried to let it out slowly, to ease some of the tension crawling up his back and neck, stiffening his muscles. “I never cared about whether or not I had any other relatives, it didn’t matter.”
Cort assessed him and Duran understood that Cort, too, was protecting someone—his brothers, his family, maybe even Jed Garrett. “And it matters now,” Cort said flatly, a statement of fact rather than a question.
“More than anything. I’ve been trying to track down as many blood relatives as I can. I’m running out of time.” He steeled himself to say what he hadn’t dared acknowledge in his head, yet battled daily in his nightmares. “My son is dying.”
Chapter Two
He’d succeeded in shaking Cort’s composure and it brought a surge of what almost felt like triumph because he knew, without having any basis for his certainty except gut instinct, that this time, he wouldn’t be turned away.
“I’m sorry,” Cort said, a husky note in his voice replacing his earlier coolness. “I’ve got four kids and I can’t imagine…” He scrubbed a hand over his face and when he looked back this time the sympathy in his eyes was clear. “There has to be something we can do to help or you wouldn’t be here.”
“There is. Noah needs a bone marrow transplant, but they haven’t been able to find a match.”
“Noah has a rare immune-system illness,” Lia explained for him. “There’s been a lot of success in treating it with bone marrow transplants. But without it—” She looked at Duran, an apology in her eyes. “Without it, the prognosis isn’t good. Noah probably won’t survive past his late teens. The sooner he gets a transplant, the better his chances, and the odds of finding a match among blood relations are much higher.”
“Which is why I went searching for my birth parents when neither I, my ex-wife nor any of her family turned out to be a match,” Duran added. “I was hoping one of my birth parents would be a match, or if not, that maybe I had other relatives that would be. That’s why I said discovering I had five brothers here is a better outcome than I could have wished for.”
Cort nodded. “Then neither your twin nor your birth mother was a match, either.”
“Ry wasn’t. The only thing the tests proved was that we were brothers. And she refused to be tested.” Anger flared up in him again and he pushed it down. There was nothing he could do to change the past or her mind and it wouldn’t aid his appeal now. “She said she didn’t want her family to know how badly she’d screwed up over thirty years ago. According to her, admitting to having sex once when she was twenty-two with a stranger she’d met in a bar would ruin her life.”
“Jed won’t give a damn. His family already knows the worst of his sins and a one-night stand hardly ranks.” Cort hesitated and Duran readied himself for another disappointment. “He’s sick though, dying. He couldn’t be a donor even if he wanted to be. But I’m sure I can speak for my brothers and say we’d all be willing to be tested as soon as you can arrange it.” He turned to Lia. “Is there anything you can do to expedite things?”
“I’ll do whatever I can,” she assured him. “I can’t get anything done over the weekend, but I’ll see what I can do about setting things up for early next week.”
Duran found himself holding his breath, waiting to be told it was a mistake; that it wasn’t going to happen the way he wanted. When that didn’t come the sense of relief hit him hard, as if all the air had left the room and rushed back, and with it, a little of his faith in the future.
He searched for words to convey his feelings, but the thankfulness he felt was so tangled up with other, less defined and more uneasy emotions connected with finding brothers, a twin, discovering parts of himself he never knew—emotions that he hadn’t given himself time to process—that it left him floundering for what to say to the stranger who could end up saving his son’s life.
But Cort spared him from having to say anything by moving the conversation to practicalities. “I’m guessing you’re staying the night here with Noah. But when he gets out of the hospital, you and he can stay with one of us.” He forestalled any protest Duran would have made by holding up a hand. “A hotel’s no place for a sick kid. The ranch would be best. There’s plenty of room at the big house and Rafe and Josh are only a few minutes away. But that means telling Jed, and soon.” He pinched the bridge of his nose, wincing. “I don’t see any way around it.”
“I get the feeling he’s not going to be happy to find out he has two more sons,” Duran said. If that was the case, he was glad that Jed Garrett had sons who, if not happy to learn of his existence, were at least willing to accept him as a brother and do what they could for Noah.
“No, it’ll probably be just the opposite,” Cort said grimly. Apparently he saw Duran was starting to get frustrated with the veiled hints about Jed’s character and offered a rueful smile. “Sorry, I’m not deliberately trying to keep you in the dark. But it’s going to take some time to explain and I’d rather not do it here.”
“Later then, or not,” he said. “My concern right now is Noah.”
“I understand. Why don’t you give me or Rafe a call tomorrow, when you figure out what’s going on with Noah and one of us can run by and help you two get settled somewhere else?”
“About that—” Duran began. He felt uncomfortable accepting hospitality from strangers, even if he was related to them.
It was Lia who resolved the matter for him. “Say yes. Otherwise I’ll have to call security because Cort never takes no for an answer and that’s the only other way we’ll get rid of him.”
“Thanks for the character reference,” Cort retorted.
“Thanks for the warning,” Duran muttered and both Cort and Lia laughed, drawing a reluctant smile from him. “Fine, leave me a number and I’ll let you know when Noah’s released.”
Cort handed over a cell and home number and as it seemed to finish anything else they could say for now, an awkward silence intruded.
With a shift of his shoulders that telegraphed their shared uncertainty about where they should take this next, Cort finally spoke. “I should be going. You need to get back to your son and I need to get home to my family. I’ll talk to you, both of you—” he glanced at Lia “—soon.”
Duran waited until he’d gone and then by tacit agreement, he and Lia went back inside the room to check on Noah. He stood to one side while she bent over his sleeping son, not liking her frown when she finished taking his temperature again.
“It hasn’t come down much,” she said in answer to his pointed look. “We’ll monitor it for the next several hours, and if it doesn’t improve, then I’m going to start him on intravenous antibiotics. He may have had those before, if he’s had other infections.”
His eyes on Noah, Duran nodded. More hospital time, more treatments that would only buy a temporary respite, not the permanent answer Noah needed. “I should never have brought him along.”
“It wouldn’t have made any difference. The infection’s been going on for a couple of days, at least, probably since before you left L.A., and it would have been worse for him if he’d been sick while you were gone. At least here you and Noah are together and you’ve got—” she looked lost for an appropriate word, settling on “—family you can rely on to help.”
“I’m not quite ready to consider them family and whether or not I can rely on them remains to be seen.”
“You can—rely on them, I mean. I’ve known four of them for years, and they’re all good guys.”
He noticed she deliberately avoided referring to them as his brothers, perhaps because of his comment wary of acknowledging a blood link between him and the others. “You don’t seem surprised to find out Garrett’s got two more sons.”
“Not really,” she said. “Jed’s five sons here were by four different women, and the oldest one he didn’t even acknowledge until a few months ago. I’d have been more surprised if it had turned out the five of them were the only children he fathered.”
Duran shook his head, not yet ready to learn any more about what was obviously a convoluted family tree. “Noah wants to meet them all. When I explained to him why I was coming here, that I had found out I had more family than just his grandparents, that’s all he could talk about.” He lightly stroked his hand over his son’s tousled hair. “He’s lonely, with just him and me, and because he’s been sick for so long. My ex-wife’s family decided that he and I didn’t exist after Amber left me. So the idea of having more family is exciting—to him. But he doesn’t have to think about the consequences.”
“That one of them might not be a match?”
“That they might not care about knowing him, or that it’s all temporary. We stay here for a while and then he never sees them again.”
Suddenly, Duran felt tired, drained by the emotional roller-coaster ride he’d been on for what seemed like years now. He heard himself, a damning echo in his head, admitting Noah was dying and all the fear, grief and worry he’d been shouldering alone for so many months welled up in him, tearing at his control.
Turning away from the sympathy in Lia’s eyes, he leaned his hands on the back of a chair, head bowed, struggling to regain his composure. There was a pause, a whisper of sound and then a gentle hand touched his shoulder.
“You’re doing everything you can,” she said softly.
“It hasn’t been enough so far, what if it isn’t enough now?”
“Then you keep trying. Because even if it isn’t enough, that’s all you can do.”
If it wasn’t enough, it would break him. There would be no compromises with his emotions, no comfort in telling himself he’d done his best. “I can’t let that happen,” he said, but instead of coming out as clear, hard resolve, it sounded desperate, already cracked with sorrow.
“Duran—” Lia reached around and laid her hand against his jaw, turning him to face her. Whatever she saw in his expression prompted her to abandon what she intended to say and before he understood, he was in her arms, she was holding him or he was holding her, and it didn’t matter because it had been so long since he shared the burden, that giving even a little of it up, for however short a time, was like being able to breathe again.
The moment stretched into many, into time he couldn’t measure, before the comfort she offered and he grasped at became too much to accept and he very carefully pulled out of her embrace. Still within touching distance, they stood looking at each other and for the first time, he saw her as a woman and not the doctor who’d stepped in to help a stranger in need. She was barely to his shoulder, on the thin side of slender, and there was a delicacy about her, as if she were finely made and vulnerable to the rigors of life. Her dark red hair was gilded with copper and gold in the dim light, her eyes an unusual shade of light brown. He might have, at first glance, dismissed her as merely decorative, with little substance, except he had felt the strength in her hands, seen the intelligence and empathy in her eyes, been touched by her warmth even when he thought himself immune.
She accepted his study for a minute or two and then dropped her eyes and took an uncertain step back. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have—”
“Don’t be.” Duran resisted the urge to reach out to her, to reassure her that she’d misinterpreted his moving away from her; he’d been alone for so long it had become habit to throw up his defenses when he was most vulnerable. “I appreciate everything you’ve done so far. You’ve gone way out of your way to help us.”
“Yes, well, that is my job,” she said briskly. She avoided eye contact with him and busied herself taking Noah’s temperature again. “I’ll have the nurse check him again in a couple of hours. If there’s no change, then we’ll start the IV. But we’ll keep our fingers crossed he won’t need it this time. I’ll be back first thing in the morning, unless there’s a problem before then.”
For some reason, her determined return to professional detachment irritated him. It felt jarringly out of place, though by all rights, it shouldn’t have. “Does this mean I have to start calling you Dr. Kerrigan again?”
“You haven’t called me anything,” she said. A slight smile touched her mouth, bringing back a whisper of the warmth. “At least out loud.”
“Okay, Lia,” he said deliberately. “Then we’ll see you in the morning.”
This time the smile blossomed. “Count on it.”
Lia left the hospital, her body tired, but thoughts and emotions too unsettled to let her rest. It was late, nearly ten, but the notion of going home and confessing her sins to her elderly cat didn’t appeal. Instead, she decided to stop by Morente’s and see if Nova could spare half an hour for a glass of wine.
She and Nova Vargas—six months now Mrs. Alex Tréjos—had been friends for a decade, ever since Lia had come to Luna Hermosa as a young intern and decided to make it home. Nova had been waitressing at the local diner—they’d met the first time Lia, new in town, came in search of a serious caffeine transfusion—and almost from the first they’d started a ritual, Lia sticking around after the diner closed, the two of them having coffee or a drink, sharing grievances and confidences. Since last year, when Nova had taken over managing the upscale Morente’s and then in February, had married the local middle-school principal, they’d had less time together. But they both resolved to keep their weekly ritual, even if it meant an hour in Nova’s office, sharing a margarita and whatever chocolate dessert was left over from the kitchen.
“Hey, girl, I didn’t expect to see you here tonight,” Nova greeted her with a hug before stepping back to give Lia a critical once-over. “I thought you were going to go home and actually relax for once.”
“I was, but something came up.”
“I hope he was tall, dark and gorgeous.”
“He is, but he comes packaged with a short, dark and cute one,” Lia said, smiling when Nova’s mouth pulled up in an expression of serious disbelief. “I promise to tell all, if you’ve got time for a glass of wine.”
“I can make time for this,” Nova said and gestured Lia to follow her to the back office.
A few minutes later, settled on the office couch with a glass of wine and a generous serving of wickedly rich chocolate soufflé, Lia told her about Duran and his reason for coming to town to find Jed. She knew Nova wouldn’t gossip. She was Cort’s former lover and had married his best friend, and the three of them had stayed close. Besides, news got around fast enough in Luna Hermosa without Nova’s help. Lia gave it less than a week before everyone would be talking about it.
Nova, like her, shrugged off the revelation of Jed fathering two more sons. “Everyone knows Jed Garrett likes women and lots of them. So what’s this Duran Forrester like?”
“Tall, dark and gorgeous,” Lia said lightly. She felt herself coloring and reached for another bite of soufflé to cover it, hoping Nova wouldn’t notice. Bad enough she’d practically thrown herself into his arms back in Noah’s room. She didn’t need Nova deciding there was more going on than just her normal concern for the father of a seriously sick child.
“And?” Nova prompted.
“And he’s a single father who loves his son and would make a deal with the devil to save his life.”
“Ah.” Taking a sip of her wine, Nova studied her for a moment. “You seem to have gone above and beyond to help him out.”
“It’s my job.” Lia repeated the same excuse she’d given Duran.
“And you’re doing it very thoroughly.”
“It’s not like that at all.”
“Sure it isn’t.”
“Oh, for pity’s sake, we spent most of our time together in a hospital room with his sick child. What could possibly have happened?”
“I don’t know, you tell me,” Nova said and Lia wanted to answer, nothing, absolutely nothing, except it felt like a lie. “I can imagine it’d be pretty easy to get attached to a sick little boy and a devoted single dad who came to a town full of strangers looking for someone to help save his son’s life. And if he’s as hot as you say he is—”
“I didn’t say that,” Lia protested.
“You didn’t have to. Just be careful, okay? I know you want to help, but I also know how you are when it comes to getting too involved.”
Her friend probably did, but Lia didn’t want to be reminded of it right now. “And how am I?” she asked, knowing Nova would tell her if even if she didn’t.
“I love you, but you have this way of sabotaging every relationship you’re in because you’re afraid it might work,” Nova said.
“Oh, please, that’s not true. And a few hours with a stranger hardly qualifies as a relationship.”
“Look what happened with Tonio,” Nova continued. “He started to get serious and you decided you were too busy to spend time with him. You kept pushing him away until he finally got fed up and left you. He and Rita Pérez are dating,” she added, mentioning the name of one of Morente’s waitresses. “In case you’re interested.”
It was hard, coming up with a defense, when Lia suspected—no, she knew—that Nova was probably right. “I’m not,” she grumbled. “And you aren’t exactly a model for a successful relationship, you know.”
Nova laughed. “Until Alex, I never wanted one. My dad walking out on Mama and me cured me of wanting to tie myself to anyone for too long.”
“You and Cort were together for years,” Lia pointed out.
“Cort and I were lovers but we were never together. We were always just friends. Good friends,” she added at Lia’s skeptical look. “I liked being with him and he’s one helluva lover. But, trust me, neither of us ever had the least intention of making it permanent.”
“And now you’re married,” Lia said, emphasizing the word. “That can be pretty permanent.”
“Can be? There speaks the cynic. I intend for it to be, honey.”
“You can’t know that,” Lia said. She thought about everyone she’d ever loved and how, in one way or another, they’d all left her. Sometimes it had been a deliberate decision on their part; sometimes the fault could be assigned elsewhere, but the end result had been the same. “Things change, people go away.”
Her dark eyes speaking her understanding, Nova said quietly, “Not always.”
Maybe it worked for other people, but not for her. Lia had had hard lessons in loving and losing, ones she didn’t intend to repeat. “Don’t worry,” she told Nova. “I don’t plan on letting myself get involved beyond doing what I can for his son. That is my job.”
“No, honey, that’s the problem,” Nova said. She tipped her wineglass toward Lia. “You don’t ever plan on getting involved but you do. And then it’s too late.”
Not this time. It’s not too late because nothing has started. And I won’t let it.
She kept that thought with her long after she left the restaurant and took it home and to bed with her, using it as a shield against any doubts that crept in, any whispered warnings that she’d already started something she couldn’t stop or turn back from, that it already was too late.