A Home for Christmas (17 page)

“Candi, I need another arrangement of flowers. And can you box up that dress Janice was trying on?”

“Now you're talking. What about the accessories?”

“Those too.”

“What do you want the card to say?”

“No card. I'll deliver the message myself.”

“How are you doing,
Sammy?” Janice asked.

“Not so good.”

The adorable little red-haired boy looked up at her with huge green eyes. She brushed her hand across his hot forehead.

“Where's the doc?” he asked.

“Sammy, Doc Prescott went into town with your Mommy, remember?” Dixie said. “This is his niece. She's a doctor, too. She's going to have a look at you instead.”

He shifted his wide-eyed focus back to Janice. “A lady doc?”

Janice smiled. “Yes.”

“Wow . . . I never seen a lady doc before. You sure are purdier than old Doc Prescott.”

“Sammy,” Dixie scolded.

“Well she is, and she smells nicer, too.”

“Thank you, Sammy. Do you mind if I take your temperature?”

“Nope.” He opened his mouth and stuck out his tongue.

“How about if I just stick this funny looking thing in your ear?”

“Will it hurt?”

“No, not at all.”

“Okay.”

Janice inserted the thermometer in boy's ear and took the reading. “All done.” She made a notation in his file. Mable hovered nearby to make sure she did it correctly. Janice shook her head.

“How long have you been feeling bad, Sammy?”

The little boy shrugged.

“I let him stay out of school today. He was spendin' the day with my mother because he didn't feel well when he got up this morning. She keeps some of my nieces and nephews from time to time, so one more's usually no bother. Anyway,” Dixie continued, “she called me at the diner. Said he'd been throwin' up all morning.”

Janice made another note.

“Oh,” Sammy groaned. Just the thought of the morning he'd had seemed to make him go green.

Janice rubbed his stomach in what she hoped was a soothing motion. “Okay. Mable, could you get us—”

The nurse handed her a stainless steel, kidney-shaped pan. “Thank you. What did you eat this morning?”

“Pancakes.”

“Anything else?”

“I had a big glass of milk. Oh . . . ” he closed his eyes and moaned.

“I'm sorry, sweetie. We won't think about that. So, you go to school?”

The boy took a breath and said, “Yep. I go to Kindygotten. But I didn't go today. Dixie said I didn't have to 'cause I was feelin' poorly.”

She smiled and smoothed his unruly curls. “That's a very good thing. Has anyone else at your school been sick?”

The little boy shrugged. “Tommy Thompson puked all over the bathroom last week. It was gross.”

She nodded, then looked at Dixie. “It's probably just a virus or the stomach flu. There's not much you can do for it other than let it run its course. It'll probably last twenty-four to forty-eight hours. I can give him something for the vomiting. It will help him rest and keep some fluids down. It's very important that he not become dehydrated.”

Dixie nodded.

To Sammy, Janice said, “I can give you something to make your stomach feel better. There's two ways to take it. The choice is yours.”

Sammy nodded, a serious expression in those huge green eyes.

“I can give you a shot.”

He screwed up his face to show his displeasure.

“Or I can give you something called a suppository.” She explained how that worked.

That garnered a more serious look of displeasure. “Shot,” he said.

She patted his hand. “You're a brave little boy.”

The nurse prepared the syringe. Dixie held the little boy's hand.

“You get all the ice cream you want when this is over, sport.”

Janice administered the injection, then handed the tray back to Mable.

“You did that real easy, Doc. I hardly even noticed.”

“Thank you.” She pulled a blanket up and tucked it under Sammy's chin. “Can you stay here and try to rest while I speak with Dixie?”

Sammy nodded.

She smoothed his curls off his forehead. “If you need anything, Miss Mable will be right here, okay?”

“Okay.”

The nurse smiled and sat next to the bed where the little boy lay.

Janice and Dixie stepped out into the hallway and shut the door to the examination room. “The shot should make Sammy feel better right away. It will also make him very drowsy. I can give you some suppositories to use when it wears off if he starts feeling sick again. If he doesn't want to use them, just give me a call and I'll be happy to come out and give him another injection. There's no need to bring him back in.”

Boy, was she really getting into this small town swing of things. Already volunteering to make house calls.

Dixie ran a hand through her short-spiked hair. “Thanks, Doc. I really appreciate it.”

Janice laid a hand on her arm. “Dixie, these types of things are very contagious. You should make arrangements to have him stay somewhere other than with Susan. An illness of this nature would be very hard on her.”

“Of course. She's gonna have a fit. She'll want to take care of him herself, but I'll handle it. I may need restraints. Can you help me with that?”

Janice laughed. “We'll see what Mable can scare up.” She noticed the dark smudges under Dixie's eyes. “How are you doing?”

“Me? I'm right as rain.”

“How are you sleeping?”

“Oh, you know. Sleep's over-rated.”

Janice crossed her arms and affected her best
don't mess with me
doctor's voice. “I know you're very involved with your friend's family. If you don't take care of yourself, you're going to be the one lying on that examination table.”

“I'm fine.”

“Is there anything I can do for you? There are medications that can help you rest. Help soothe your nerves.”

Dixie cocked a hand on her hip. Janice didn't think she'd ever seen red pants with jingle bells trimming the pockets. “You treat upset with pills, and don't get me wrong, that's well and fine. But my recipe for just about anything is a nice chocolate cake.”

Janice laughed.

Dixie squeezed her hand. “If there's ever a point when chocolate stops helping, then I'll come see you. Promise.”

“Anytime.”

“Now, about you and my brother—”

“I'll just have Mable get those meds together.”

“Hang on, Doc. I got something to say and you're gonna hear it.”

Janice took a deep breath. She'd heard about enough today from Blake about whatever this was between the two of them. As far as she could tell, they were at an impasse.

“He'd never admit it, but my brother's been pretty unlucky in love. Fact is, he's been burned so many times, I thought he'd given up. Then you came to town, and I'm noticin' that he has that look in his eyes again. I don't mind tellin' you that it's been a very long time since I've seen him act this way over a woman.”

“Dixie—”

She held up a hand. “Now, let me finish. Please. I'm not one to meddle, but Blake's special to me. In my humble, biased opinion, you couldn't do any better than him. Still, I get this sense that you're in some weird place where you're not sure which direction your life is headed, and while that's your business, I just don't want to see my brother get hurt.”

Janice crossed her arms. “For the record, I told your brother he didn't want to get involved with me. He doesn't seem inclined to take my advice.”

Dixie nodded. She had a resigned look on her face. “So, I'm a day late and a dollar short.”

“I don't know what you mean,” Janice said.

Dixie began pacing. The bells jingled with the movement. “This is my fault. I told him to go for it. That he shouldn't waste any time if he wanted to pursue something with you. I just had no idea he'd fall this hard and this fast.” She shook her head.

Janice didn't catch half of what she said. “Dixie, what are you talking about?”

“Okay. A different angle. I need to approach this from a different angle.”

Now she was mumbling. “What?”

“Okay, I get that you're attracted to Blake.”

That was to the point. “Excuse me?”

“Come on, Janice. Do we have to be so formal? I mean, this is my brother we're talking about. What I'm trying to get at is this. What would it take for you to give him a chance?”

“We really shouldn't be having this conversation.”

“Well, I'm not givin' you a choice. As I said, I'm very protective of Blake. So, what would it take?”

“A change of address to start. I'm only here for a visit. I haven't agreed to move yet.” Janice wished she could snatch the words out of the air, but it was too late.

Dixie pounced. “Yet. You haven't agreed to move yet. So you're saying you might. That's good enough.”

“There's more, Dixie. Much more.”

Dixie held up her hand. “Blake should be able to take it from here with a little coaching.”

“Dixie—”

“I should take Sammy over to my place now, Doc. His sister's gonna be gettin' home from school anytime. Could you get me that medicine?”

Janice frowned. “Sure.”

Why did she feel like she'd just propelled herself into something she'd didn't have a prayer of controlling?

“Delivery for Janice Thornton.”

Janice and Dixie both turned as a teenage boy walked into the clinic carrying a huge bouquet of roses.

“I'm Janice Thornton.”

“I'll take care of this,” Dixie said.

Janice stepped into the exam room where Sammy was sleeping. She gave Mable some instructions about getting some nausea meds for Dixie to take with her, then walked back out into the hall in time to see Blake rushing into the office. He entered in such a hurry the door banged against the wall before he could grab it and swing it shut.

“Janice—”

“Blake—” Dixie intercepted him. “What are you doin' here? You're supposed to be watchin' the diner.”

He grabbed Dixie's arms, his breathing labored like he'd run all the way from the diner. “I called Dad to come in. It's Bebe. She needs a doctor.”

“What's the problem?” Janice interjected.

“She's pregnant. Says she's been bleedin' all morning.”

“Did she say anything about cramps?”

“Yes.”

“I'll get my bag.”

“Blake, can you carry Sammy to the car for me?” Dixie asked.

“Sure. Is he okay?”

“Yeah. Just a stomach bug.”

Janice said, “Mable, can you give those meds to Dixie and then get me some Demerol, Terbutaline, a couple of syringes, and a biohazard box?”

“Certainly, Doctor. Who is it?”

Janice looked at Blake.

“My sister-in-law, Bebe Ferguson.”

“Do we have a fetal monitor?” Janice asked Mable.

“Yes. We also have a portable ultrasound.”

“We do?” Janice said, surprised they would have such an expensive piece of equipment.

“Yes.”

“Good. I'll need that, along with any file we may have on Mrs. Ferguson.”

“Yes, Doctor.”

Mable moved surprisingly fast for her size and girth. Janice walked back to her uncle's office, retrieved her bag, then found Mable.

“Here you are, Doctor.”

Janice took the medicines and put them in her bag. The file, she tucked under her arm while she juggled everything else. “Thanks, Mable. Do you know if Mrs. Ferguson has been having difficulty with her pregnancy?”

“No, Doctor. She's been seeing a specialist in Maryville.”

Janice nodded as she headed for the door. “I'll have my cell phone. Call if you need me.”

“Yes, Doctor. If your uncle returns, I'll tell him where you are.”

Out on the porch, Mable handed her a paper with two names and numbers on them. She performed an impressive balancing act to take it. “If you need to transport her by ambulance, call Carl. If she needs to be airlifted, call Willie.”

“Thank you, Mable.”

“Godspeed.”

Blake held the door to his truck open for her. He took her bag and the ultrasound and put them away behind the seat, then he helped her up into the cab. When he was behind the wheel, Janice asked, “How far away are we?”

“It's not far. They just moved into one of the old Victorians.”

“Good. Why did she wait so long to call?”

Blake's mouth was set in a hard line. “She's been trying to get my worthless brother on the phone all morning. When the cramping started and she still hadn't reached him, she called the diner.” He paused and took a couple of deep breaths. “Is she losing the baby?”

“I don't know. I need to examine her.”

“No offense, but can you handle this kind of thing?”

“If she's miscarrying, there's little anyone would be able to do.”

She opened the woman's file and flipped through it. A positive pregnancy test. No previous pregnancies. Nothing to indicate if this was a high-risk pregnancy.

Blake slammed his palm against the steering wheel. “If I could get hold of my brother right now, I'd kill him with my bare hands.”

“Let's focus our energy on your sister-in-law.”

They came to a stop in front of a beautiful two-story home, but Janice hardly took time to give it a cursory glance. She rushed up the steps with Blake to the front door. “I hope it isn't locked.”

“No one locks their doors in Angel Ridge.” The door swung open to prove his point.

“My uncle locks his.”

“Well, we wouldn't want teenagers walking off with drugs.”

“Good point.”

“Bebe? Where are you?” Blake called out.

“Upstairs,” came a weak voice.

Janice ran up the stairs with Blake right behind her.

“In here,” Blake said.

A small woman with an ashen face lay in the center of a large four-poster bed. Sweat beaded her forehead and she was obviously in pain.

“Thank God you're here,” she said.

Blake went to her side and knelt by the bed. He took her hand and brushed sweaty bangs off her forehead.

“Where's Doc Prescott?”

“He's out of town. This is his niece, Janice Thornton.”

“
Dr.
Janice Thornton,” Janice corrected.

“Right. Sorry. She'll take real good care of you.”

Janice shrugged out of her coat. “Blake, if you could step out while I examine Mrs. Ferguson.”