Paging Dr. Daddy

Chapter Three

In the bathroom down the hall from the pediatric ICU, Courtney pulled on the blue scrubs the nurses had found for her and tugged the waistband tight. She wouldn’t win any fashion awards, but at least they were clean. It felt good to wash the accident off. Then she glanced in the mirror and nearly shrieked.

Her hair was drying naturally and without a blow dryer the effect wasn’t pretty. There were bruises on her forehead and the ones on her cheekbone could be an extension of the dark circles under her eyes, a by-product of not sleeping the night before. Catnaps in the chair beside Janie’s bed didn’t count, but there was no way she would abandon her child. It had taken a lot of persuasion and the threat of physical intervention for the nurses to talk her into leaving long enough to clean up.

As she walked down the hall alone, preparing to deal with whatever came along today, she remembered how good David’s company had felt until he’d excused himself for a cocktail party hosted by his brother Peter following the rededication of the hospital library to their father. But that was yesterday. Today was situation normal—her and Janie against the world.

When she walked into her daughter’s room, she stopped short. Correction: Janie wasn’t alone. David was there, looking far too good in his worn jeans and black body-hugging T-shirt. It made him look every inch the bad boy he’d said he used to be. The leather jacket was draped across the back of the chair she’d slept in last night.

Her heart stuttered, sputtered, then shifted into high gear as a wave of warmth swelled through her and settled in her cheeks. He looked like a movie star and she looked like a really unfortunate “before” picture. Courtney knew it was bad to care about how she looked to him and worse to be so ridiculously happy that he was here. Bad to worse didn’t change the fact that both were true.

Her daughter waved and pointed to the biggie-sized cup bearing the logo from Buns ’n’ Burgers that he was holding.

“I’m so happy to see you eating something.” She walked over to the bed and kissed Janie’s forehead then checked out the contents of the cup. All evidence pointed to the fact that it was a vanilla milkshake. “Wow, sweetie, your favorite. Where did you get that?”

“Buns ’n’ Burgers,” David said.

She slid him a wry look. “Let me rephrase. Buns ’n’ Burgers isn’t a delivery kind of place. How did it get here? Did one of the nurses bring it?”

Janie shook her head and pointed to David.

He shrugged. “When I called for a progress report, her nurse said she wasn’t eating. So I took the liberty—”

“It wasn’t necessary for you to go out of your way,” she said. “I could have gotten her one here at the hospital.”

“Rumor has it that Buns ’n’ Burgers is her favorite place. Besides, I wanted to see if the food is as good as I remembered,” he explained.

“And?” Courtney asked.

“I’ve been all over the world and never tasted better.”

“And you remembered that vanilla milkshakes are her favorite.”

Janie nodded and rubbed her tummy.

Courtney frowned. “Is something wrong? You haven’t said anything, kiddo.”

“She told me that it feels weird on her chin when she talks. So I suggested she not talk.” David folded his arms over his chest, drawing her attention to his wide shoulders and flat abdomen.

As soon as the word hot popped into her head, Courtney turned back to her daughter. The little girl pointed to her arm, which was in a sling.

“She wants to know if your wrist hurts,” David said.

“I got that.” Amused, Courtney looked back at him. “But since when did you learn to interpret sign language from a six-year-old girl?”

“You’ve heard of a horse whisperer,” he said.

“Yes. And you’re what? A babe whisperer?” She couldn’t resist the zinger or hold back a smile.

“Exactly,” he said, not without smugness. “I understand women from six to sixty.”

“Word on the street is that you concentrate your powers of persuasion in the twenty-to-thirty range.”

“Do you always believe everything you hear?”

“Yeah,” she said, nodding. “Pretty much.”

Janie tapped David’s arm and he lifted the cup closer to her mouth. She made a noisy job of finishing every last drop of her milkshake, then reclined in the bed with a satisfied sigh. She was on the mend, thanks to David. But Courtney hadn’t expected to see him again.

She looked up at him. “I thought you’d be on the first plane back to L.A.”

“I wanted to check in on Janie. Make sure everything’s okay this morning.”

And bring her favorite food to coax her to eat. Courtney didn’t trust this heroic act and wondered what he was after.

“And?” she asked.

He grinned. “I’m happy to say the stitches look good and there’s no sign of infection.”

“If every part of my body didn’t hurt, I’d be doing the dance of joy,” she said.

“Can I have a rain check?” Amusement was another good look for him.

They stared at each other for several moments and the pulse at the base of her throat began to flutter. “So,” she said, dragging out the word slightly, “the airport is probably your next stop after you leave here?”

His expression was bemused. “Since I’m here, I thought a short visit would be nice.”

“Family before facelifts?” As soon as the words were out, she put her hand over her mouth.

“Shoots and scores,” he said, one eyebrow lifting.

“David, I—” She shook her head and felt like the world’s biggest jerk. “I’m not sure why you bring out my snarky side—”

“So it’s my fault?” His mouth twitched with amusement. “If I were a shrink,” he said, “I’d have a field day with how you can’t take responsibility for your sarcastic streak.”

“I’m pretty tired.” She blew out a breath. “In my own defense I have to say that spending the night here doesn’t reveal my naturally sweet disposition.”

“I’ll look forward to seeing it.”

There was no good way to interpret the cryptic comment so she refused to think about what he meant. “I was teasing and it came out wrong. Your relationship with your family is none of my business.”

“True. But since we both seem to be defending ourselves, let me say that my family understands being busy. Medicine is a demanding mistress and everyone but my sister, Anna, is a doctor.”

Courtney noticed the slight frown when he mentioned his sister, which was a different—darker—expression from when he’d talked about his other siblings. She wanted to ask, but until she could regain full function of the filter between her brain and her mouth, she figured it was better not to comment.

The fact was that doctors were busy. His father had put in long days here at the hospital until he retired. It’s where she’d met him after Janie was born. When her husband had moved them to Walnut River—scratch that. He’d dumped her pregnant and alone in this town, then taken off to join the army. Like everyone else, at first she’d thought him noble and patriotic. It wasn’t until later that she’d found out his motives were selfish and shallow. Everything he’d done—and what he hadn’t done—had cost her. Everything except leaving her here.

She’d grown to love this place and that had started with James Wilder. She knew his son Peter from working here. And recently Dr. Ella Wilder had returned. But Courtney had never met his other sister.

“I don’t know Anna,” she said.

“Me either,” he answered, so softly she wasn’t sure she’d heard right. And his frown deepened.

“Mommy, I’m a little bored.”

Janie wasn’t too uncomfortable to talk. But that wasn’t the only reason Courtney felt tears well in her eyes. A lump of emotion jumped from her chest to push against her throat. “I’m so glad,” she whispered.

David looked puzzled. “The dance of joy because she’s bored?”

“What happened to the ‘babe whisperer’?”

“I guess my radar is down. Care to explain?”

“Normally those words are enough to send a mother over the edge. But in this case they’re so incredibly normal. After what she’s been through, it’s dance-of-joy worthy.”

“Ah,” he said. “Keep in mind that kids are pretty resilient.”

She knew he was warning her to keep a stiff upper lip through what was to come, but she couldn’t think about that now. She’d take every victory she could get.

“Do you have many patients who are children?” she asked.

“Some,” he said mysteriously. But there was something in his eyes, something he wasn’t telling.

“Mommy, what am I going to do?”

“I’ll turn on the TV,” she suggested.

Janie shook her head. “It’s all cartoons or baby shows.”

“And you’re so grown up,” David teased. He walked over to his jacket and pulled something out of the pocket. “How about a game of cards?”

“I don’t know how to play,” Janie said.

“Then I’ll teach you.”

“Do I hafta hold ’em?” Janie lifted her right arm and showed off her hot-pink wrist cast.

“No.” He pulled over the mobile table, then rested his hip on her bed. “You can put your cards in your lap face up. I won’t peek.”

“Promise?” Janie said.

He made an X over his heart. “Promise.”

Courtney’s heart would have to be three sizes too small not to be moved by his attention and gentle caring. She watched David patiently explain the rules of Old Maid, Go Fish and solitaire. Although one eye was covered in bandages, Janie’s good eye sparkled when she looked at David. Her little girl liked the handsome charmer.

Courtney’s feelings were far more complicated. She was attracted to and wary of this man in equal parts. They said patients fell in love with their doctors, but she wasn’t sure that held true for mothers of patients. Fortunately she wouldn’t have to test the theory.

He had a glamorous life clear across the country, as far removed from the Walnut River lifestyle as you could get. Courtney was both incredibly grateful for what he’d done and extraordinarily relieved that there wasn’t a snowball’s chance in hell that he’d be staying to tempt her.

It was dark outside when David peeked into Janie’s room much later that day. Courtney was sitting exactly where he’d left her earlier and the oversized blue scrubs were a big clue that she’d been there without a break. Over twenty-four hours had passed since the accident. Had she slept properly? Eaten anything? And since when did patient-care protocols extend to the patient’s mother? Was she the reason he kept coming back here to check? Because there was nothing further he could do for Janie.

Correction: nothing until her initial injuries healed. By that time he’d be back at his Beverly Hills office. He remembered the way worry had darkened Courtney’s eyes when she realized everything would be more financially complicated because the procedure couldn’t be done here. Insurance companies could get squirrelly about paying for medical costs that were considered “cosmetic.” But this little girl could be disfigured for the rest of her life if the repair wasn’t done. He told himself that’s why he couldn’t get Courtney out of his mind.

She stood by the hospital bed and stretched her good arm over her head, then rolled her shoulders as if everything were stiff. The baggy scrubs didn’t hide the fact that she had curves in all the right places. If anything, that made him want to see for himself. A warm twang in his chest startled him and when she glanced in his direction, he thought the sound had found its way out.

“Hi.” Her voice reflected the surprised expression in her eyes.

He raised a hand in greeting. “Hi.”

“I didn’t expect to see you.”

“I came back to see my brother.” Only half a lie. Peter had gone for the day, but there was no reason to mention that. “How’s Janie?”

“Asleep.” She took a quick look, then walked over to him. “She was in some discomfort so they gave her something. On top of that I think she’s pretty exhausted.”

“Sleep is the best thing for her. Is she eating?”

“A little. They’re trying to tempt her with burgers, mac and cheese and chocolate puddings. But she said her favorite thing was the milkshake you brought her. That was very nice of you, by the way.”

He shrugged. “I’m glad she enjoyed it. Good to know some things don’t change—like the food in your favorite hangout.”

“Must have been nice to have a hangout,” she said wistfully.

The remark made him curious. “Where did you and your friends spend time?”

“Here and there,” she said vaguely. “So, how much longer will you be here?”

“You seem awfully anxious to get rid of me,” he accused.

“No.” The denial was too quick and the look on her face too much like the proverbial deer caught in headlights. “It’s just you’re a busy doctor and I figured you needed to get back to your patients.”

“Janie is my patient, too.”

“And you’ve done everything you can for now. But you’re just passing through and we don’t want to keep you from—”

He held up his hand. “If it’s not nice, you’ll hate yourself for saying something snarky.”

Her expression was exaggerated innocence. “I was just going to say that all those rich women desperate to smooth out the worry lines in their foreheads need love too.”

David couldn’t shake the feeling that this was her way of saying “don’t let the door hit you in the backside on your way out.” Her sincere gratitude for his help was real, no question about that. So there must be another reason she was anxious to get rid of him. Did she feel the sparks between them too? The more she pushed, the greater his inclination to push back, to dig his heels in and see how she reacted. How perverse was that?

“Have you eaten anything today?” he asked, changing the subject.

She blinked. “What?”

“Have you taken a break from this room and had anything to eat?”

“I’m not your patient, David.”

“That doesn’t mean I’m not concerned about you.”

“Don’t be. I’ve been taking care of my daughter and myself for a very long time.”

Since her husband died. But he had the feeling it had started even before that and he wanted to know more.

“Have dinner with me,” he said.

She glanced over at the bed where Janie was still sleeping soundly. “I can’t leave her.”

“Do you have a cell phone?”

“I’m not sure that’s relevant, but yes,” she said.

“If she needs you they can call. You need some fresh air and non-hospital food.”

“I’m fine.” But her stomach chose that moment to growl. Loudly. She met his gaze and her expression turned sheepish when she knew he’d heard, too.

“Fine, but hungry.”

“In spite of what you heard, I don’t have much appetite,” she protested.

“Look, you can keep throwing out lame excuses, or just suck it up and let me take you to dinner.”

“David, I’ll just cut to the chase.” She suddenly looked drawn and tired. “You’re obviously a caring man but you’ve let things slip. I’m fairly certain that handsome face of yours hides all kinds of demons. The truth is, I just don’t need one more challenge in my life.”

“Was that a compliment?” he asked.

“Which part?” she said, her forehead furrowing as she thought.

“The handsome part.”

A flush crept into her cheeks, welcome color to chase away the paleness. “Must be post-accident loose-tongue syndrome again.”

“Must be.” He slid his fingertips into the pockets of his jeans. “Would you say yes to dinner if I promise to leave my demons in the car?”

When one corner of her mouth curved up it was clear she was weakening. “Can it be my treat?”

“Okay, as long as we take my car.”

She sent him a wry look. “Since I don’t have a car at the moment, I have to ask—is that sarcasm, Doctor?”

“I guess I’ve been hanging out with you too long. But it has to be said that I’ve learned from the best.”

David found himself back at Buns ’n’ Burgers on Lexington Avenue for two reasons—it was close to the hospital and in Courtney’s budget. They ordered at the counter, got a number for table delivery and he carried their tray to a secluded corner booth.

She slid in with a tired sigh. “I feel so darn guilty.”

“Because?” He sat across from her.

“The fresh air feels so good. What kind of mother am I to be enjoying the world outside Walnut River General while my child is there?”

“She’s asleep, Court. She doesn’t know you’re not there. If she needs you, they’ll call. Relax and recharge your batteries.”

A teenage boy in a yellow Buns ’n’ Burgers shirt and matching hat delivered their cheeseburgers and fries, asked if they needed anything else, then left after an automatic, “Enjoy your meal.”

With her good hand, Courtney picked up her burger and wolfed it down as though she hadn’t eaten in a month. She chewed the last bite and—he was going to hell for this thought—she looked like a woman satisfied by the best sex of her life.

“Good burger?” he asked. Even if he didn’t feel the physical evidence, the inane question would have been positive proof that blood flow from his brain had been diverted to points south.

“I’m fairly sure that was the best hamburger I’ve ever had.” She took her time with the fries. “So, tell me more about growing up in Walnut River—specifically about being ‘that Wilder boy.’”

“I thought you wanted me to leave my demons in the car.”

“Now that I’ve been fed and watered, I find myself with the strength and curiosity to pull those demons out and take ’em for a spin.” She dipped a fry in ketchup, then popped it in her mouth and chewed thoughtfully. “There’s something I don’t understand. You seemed to have a great childhood. So where did the demons come from?”

So many demons, so little time. One was a father devoted to his work and any time left over had been lavished on an adopted daughter at the expense of everyone else in the family—including his mother.

“Can we just chalk it up to sowing my wild oats?” he asked.

“No.” She grinned. “So out with it—any smoking, drinking and general wickedness?”

“You have quite the imagination,” he said.

“You’re evading the question,” she accused, jabbing the air in his direction with a French fry.

He thought back. “There were the usual lectures about grades and living up to my potential. Curfew violations. Typical rebellion. A couple of run-ins with the cops. After all, I was ‘that Wilder boy.’”

“Did you really have a motorcycle?”

“Yeah. No pun intended, but it drove my parents nuts.”

“I don’t blame them,” she said. “What were you thinking?”

“Short answer—I wasn’t. Teenage boys aren’t notoriously rational. It’s more about testosterone.”

“Just as teenagers?” she teased.

He shook his head. “Not going there. That’s a demon not pertinent to this discussion.”

“Why not?”

“Because it’s your turn.”

“For?”

“Childhood confessions.” The shadows in her expression took him by surprise. Suddenly the spark flickered and went out. He was torn between really wanting to know about her and needing to put the smile back on her face. “What is it, Courtney?”

“You don’t really want to hear the sad details.”

“You’re wrong.”

“You’re leaving.”

“I’m here now.”

She hesitated for several moments, then said, “My mother skipped out on my dad and me when I was Janie’s age. No note. No good-bye. Just one day when I woke up she was gone.”

She was so obviously deeply committed to her child and he had instinctively assumed the fruit didn’t fall far from the tree. For some reason, he hadn’t expected that. “I don’t know what to say.”

“You could say it sucked. Because it did. I never saw her again.”

“How did your dad take it?”

She laughed but it was the saddest sound he’d ever heard. “I can’t say he didn’t drink before she walked out. But I can tell you with absolute certainty that he was rarely sober after. Trauma tends to highlight things like that.”

“Courtney—”

“Don’t.” She held up her hand. “I hate hearing clichés and despise being one even more. But in this case it’s the God’s honest truth. I’m walking, talking, surviving proof that what doesn’t kill you definitely makes you stronger.”

“So you never really got to be a kid.”

She looked resigned. “I had my hands full. Dad had trouble keeping a job, which made a roof over our heads an ongoing challenge. When I was old enough I got a job. I was determined to go to college. It was the only way to have a better life.”

Good God, he felt like a selfish, shallow jerk. He’d thought he’d had it rough, had given his parents a pile of grief growing up because of it. This woman had become a caretaker to her father when she should have been playing with dolls.

“And did you? Go to college, I mean?” Starting out in college had definitely not been his finest hour, but the life lesson was one he’d never forget.

“Yeah. I was doing pretty well, until—” She looked down, and a muscle in her delicate jaw jerked.

“What?”

“I got pregnant with Janie and had to drop out.” She met his gaze with the same fiercely defensive look he’d seen when she’d watched over her child. “My only regret is not graduating, but I could never be sorry about having Janie. She’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

Reading between the lines he figured she regretted other things. But what she’d revealed explained something of why she was reluctant to accept help. When you couldn’t count on the two people you’d trusted most in the world, leaning on strangers wouldn’t come easily.

He reached across the table and took her hand in his own. “You are a remarkable woman, Courtney Albright.”

“Not really.”

He didn’t argue with her because he didn’t like what he was feeling. Respect for her was a no-brainer. Against the odds, this woman had made a life for herself, welcomed a child into it, lost her husband and now carried the burden of raising her daughter all alone. Of course he respected her.

What troubled him was the possibility that he felt something more than admiration. Attraction was an A-word too, and it was growing stronger every time he saw her. If he was as smart as everyone told him, he’d get on that plane she’d been trying to get him on. He’d get out of Walnut River before this turned into something that got him into the same kind of trouble he’d found in college.

He’d fallen for a girl and she’d needed his help. When the dust settled, he’d been the one in hot water, and she’d walked away unscathed. Then she’d dumped him. That trouble had cost him more than time, money and his innocence.

That trouble had messed up his life.

Chapter Four

David had been driving his rented BMW around town for hours and not just because the car was sweet. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had so much time on his hands. After the disaster in his first year of college, his father had cut him off financially and every hour of every day every year afterwards had been consumed with classes, study and working to survive. Something he had in common with Courtney. At least his father hadn’t been an alcoholic. Work had been James Wilder’s obsession of choice.

After school, David had been consumed with keeping himself too busy to think, repaying student loans and building his practice. If he had less testosterone and more common sense, he would be on a plane back to that fabulous life in California.