Just Beginning (2 page)

The pair shared a similarity in their delicate features and heart-shaped faces, but whereas Michael’s came from youth, the woman’s came from femininity. Disregarding hair colors, he detected a strong likeness. She was too old to be his sister and Mary Campbell looked too young to have a daughter this age. An aunt? Why visit in the middle of the night?

The pair looked so innocent and defenseless in sleep, Gabe had the strange urge to fold both of them in his arms and hold on tight. The scene reminded him of the many nights he’d come home from a late night call and wandered in to check on his children. Standing by their beds watching them sleep had reassured him. Now he came home to an empty house.

Examine the patient, Harrison
. Gabe cleared his throat then slapped his feet down loudly as he approached the bed.

The young woman’s eyes popped open, revealing pale irises ringed in deep blue.

What stunning eyes
.

They stared at each other several long seconds before she eased away from the boy and pushed mussed hair away from her face. Tugging her sweater down in the back where it rode up, she continued to watch him through wide eyes, as if trying to gauge his mood.

Gabe flashed her a brief smile, then turned to Michael, who rubbed his face. “Hey buddy, how’re you feeling?”

The door pushed wide open, circulating fresh air into the stuffy room. Michael’s sleepy gaze settled beyond Gabe to where Mary Campbell breezed into the room. Guilt flashed across the boy’s face but was instantly replaced by wide-eyed anxiety as he looked at the young woman at his side. He clutched her hand in a white-knuckled grasp.

His mother came to an abrupt halt. Her soft welcoming smile evaporated the second she spotted the young woman. Stiffening, she scowled at Michael’s visitor.

“What’re you doing here, Jenny?”

Jenny
. His mystery lady had a name. Michael’s mother knew who she was and apparently didn’t like her much.

Jenny’s cheeks flushed, and she glanced at him out of the corner of her eye before turning in her seat to face Michael’s mother.

Michael winced as he struggled to sit up. “Don’t be mad.”

“What’re you doing here?” she asked in a quiet deliberate tone. Mary Campbell sat on the bed, smoothly inserting her body between the pair. She patted Michael’s leg as if reassuring him, yet Gabe noted the possessive display.

Jenny slid her hand out of Michael’s grasp and backed away from the bed. “Giving you a break. You’ve been here all day. I thought if Michael had good nights you’d rest better.”

“Mom, it’s okay. I asked her to come.” He turned toward Gabe, pleading. “Dr. Harrison, tell her it’s okay.”

Tell her it’s okay? The room hummed with heightened emotions and nonverbal aggression. Maternal anger pummeled his tired brain. The last thing he wanted to do was to try to untangle the nuances of battling female minds and sensibilities.

Ignoring the mother’s simmering anger, Jenny smiled fondly at Michael. “It’s okay. Don’t worry, kiddo.” She faced Mary Campbell. “I just sat with him.”

“Haven’t you done enough?” Lips drawn tight, Mary Campbell’s laser-sharp blue eyes threatened to disintegrate the girl on the spot. The angry flush blotching her face effectively hid her abundant freckles.

“Mom.” Michael fought back tears with quick sobs that bordered on hyperventilating.

Jenny scowled. “I didn’t hurt—”

“Can I talk to you both outside?” The last thing the boy needed was these women battling over him. Gabe ushered the ladies into the hall and firmly closed the door behind them.

“Ladies, you’re going to have to work this out somewhere else.” He turned to Michael’s mom, holding her gaze. “Michael feels like shit, and this arguing isn’t helping. His blood work isn’t as good as it should be, and if things don’t improve soon, he’ll need a blood transfusion. I don’t know what your problem with this young lady is, and frankly I don’t care, but if Michael wants her here, I recommend you let her stay.”

Jenny’s eyes widened in concern. “Transfusion? Do you have his type? I can give blood if—”

“
If
Michael needs blood, his father or I will donate it.” Mary scowled at the younger woman. “We’re A-positive, too.”

Gabe held up a pacifying hand. “You can all donate blood. We’re always appreciative of any donation.”

Jenny folded her arms and glanced sideways at the older woman. “I just wanted to help.”

Mary turned toward Gabe. “Michael needs his rest. She shouldn’t be here.”

“Is that what Michael wants?” Gabe asked.

Mary Campbell drew herself up to her full five foot three inches and pinned him with a steady gaze. “Doctor Harrison, if you can’t keep her from disturbing my son, I’ll find another doctor who can.” She whirled and stalked into Michael’s room, shutting the door firmly behind her.

Gabe dropped his head to his chest in defeat.
That went well
.
No wonder he made it a policy to avoid patient’s family disputes. It was much easier letting the nurses handle it.

Jenny sighed and stared at the golden wood grain of the closed door. “I’m sorry you got dragged into this.”

He held out his hand. “Gabe Harrison, Michael’s surgeon.”

“Jenny Campbell.” She shook his hand with a firm grip, then quickly released it. “Michael’s sister.”

Sister. Mary Campbell must be older than she looked. She was tough enough to have lived three lifetimes.

“General or orthopedic?”

“General. I took out your brother’s spleen.”

Jenny pulled her brown hair to the side, so it wrapped around her neck and trailed over one shoulder. She crammed her hands deep into her jean pockets until they stretched tight across trim hips, while small white teeth momentarily trapped her bottom lip. “Will he really need a transfusion?”

Gabe tried to concentrate on her question instead of staring at the way her hair cascaded past her breast in a silky, sable waterfall, but lack of sleep made him slow. He gave himself a mental shake and concentrated on her concern, her brother.

“Maybe. But it’s really no big deal.”

Smooth, Harrison
. He’d meant to be reassuring and confident, but he’d sounded uncaring. He frowned, wondering how to recover.

She silently nodded, seemingly equally at a loss to know what to say next. “Well... Okay then.”

“Um... The Pancake House is just down the street. You wouldn’t want to get some breakfast, would you?”

Anyone willing to sneak into the hospital in the middle of the night and brave Mary Campbell’s considerable fury to comfort her brother piqued Gabe’s interest. The fact that she was gorgeous was a secondary benefit.

“I’d like to, but I don’t have time. I was just going to grab a quick cup of coffee from the machine before trekking to the back forty.”

“Back forty?” Gabe raised an eyebrow.

“I parked way in the back next to the employee parking lot.”

“Why don’t you wait here while I take a quick look at Michael, and then I’ll walk you out?”

“I don’t want to put you out. Don’t doctors have a separate parking lot?”

“I could use the exercise.”

“Yeah,” she eyed his chest and flat stomach. “You really look out of shape.”

He grinned and resisted the urge to puff out his chest. “It feels good to stretch my muscles after hours in surgery.”

“Okay. Stretch away.”

“Be right back.”

Jenny stood to the side of the nurses’ station, trying not to feel conspicuous. Dr. Harrison’s invitation to breakfast had caught her off guard. She wanted to go with him, but really couldn’t afford the time away from work.

She should be mortified he’d witnessed that humiliating scene with her mother; it’d hardly been one of Mom’s finest moments. She couldn’t imagine why he’d asked her out instead of running in the opposite direction, but she was glad he had.

Five minutes later, Gabe caught up with her. With a warm hand at her back, he turned her toward the elevator. Several nurses cast admiring glances at the doctor walking by her side. Smiling broadly, they all greeted him with a friendly “good morning,” to which he responded with a nod and brief “morning” as they passed.

They probably wonder what he’s doing with me
.

Gabe stood a good six inches taller than her, closing in on six feet—big enough to make her aware of him, but not enough to feel dwarfed. She liked the way his light brown hair laid close-cropped to his head in tidy layers. Though not pretty-boy handsome, he had that slightly rugged, everyday gorgeous look.

As they waited at the elevator, Jenny glanced at Gabe, then looked away. She gathered her hair to one side of her neck and smoothed it down. “Sorry about my mom. She’s rather overprotective.”

The elevator chimed. Gabe stepped to the side to allow the people from the elevator to pass, then reached for the padded door to hold it open for her. Leaning close so the other occupants wouldn’t hear, he lowered his voice. “You’re her daughter.”

“Michael’s her late-in-life baby.” She shrugged. “She has a hard time letting go.”

“She overreacted,” Gabe said.

“A little.” To an outsider Mom’s reaction probably seemed harsh. He didn’t know Jenny deserved it.

His steady, earnest gaze made her want to squirm. She didn’t want his pity. She couldn’t exactly name what she wanted from him right then, but it definitely wasn’t pity. Looking away, she hurried through the open door and waited while he helped an elderly volunteer wrestle a library cart onto the elevator.

Jenny paused at the droning vending machine and Gabe reached into his pocket for change. Coins clinked and jingled down the slot.

“What’s your pleasure?” Gabe asked.

“Coffee with cream, please.”

Gabe handed her the cup. “Careful. It’s hot.”

“Aren’t you having any?” Jenny blew on her drink and took a tentative swallow.

“Not if I want to sleep.”

She focused on sipping her beverage as they walked through the ER waiting room. The last thing she needed was to spill hot coffee on herself. She searched for a neutral topic. “You seemed pretty comfortable with Michael. Do you have kids?”

“Two. A boy and girl.”

“Dr. Harrison?” The emergency room nurse hurried over.

Gabe slowed and turned toward the approaching nurse, saying to Jenny, “I’ll only be a minute.”

Jenny tuned out their medical conversation. He had kids. Her heart dropped. Was he married? She glanced at his bare left hand. Divorced? Widowed? Maybe he just didn’t wear a ring. Maybe she’d misread the signals and he wasn’t attracted to her at all.

When he finished talking to the nurse, they walked out of the hospital in silence. She peeked at him, wondering what he was thinking. Finally, she couldn’t take it anymore. “So, you have kids...”

His gray eyes twinkled. “And an ex-wife.” His amusement melted away. “I’m divorced.”

Divorced. Her heart lightened and she bit her lip to keep from smiling. Jenny’d made her share of mistakes—more than her share, actually—but dating married men wasn’t one of them. She’d never been that dumb.

Long divorced or rebound divorced? She peeked at Gabe as they left the hospital and walked into the brisk morning air. Kids? Huh. She liked kids. “How old are your children?”

He put a hand to her back and urged her out of the way of a large blue Navigator cruising for a parking spot. “Alex is sixteen, and Ted’s eighteen.”

Jenny sipped her coffee to hide her surprise and buy a little time. Sixteen and eighteen? They weren’t kids. She’d been expecting six and eight or eight and ten. Sixteen and eighteen were teenagers.

She made a face at Gabe. “Teenagers. Not the most pleasant years I hear.” Hers had been a nightmare.

“Not bad. They’re good kids.”

She smiled up at him with a knowing glint in her eye. “And living with their mother most of the time.”

He chuckled and inclined his head in concession.

They walked through the huge asphalt parking lot, with her taking occasional sips of coffee and him slowing to her pace. Jenny thought about the earlier confrontation with her mother and his reaction.

When they reached her old maroon Jeep, she faced him. “Dr. Harrison—”

“Gabe.”

“Okay, Gabe.” She paused. “I think we gave you the wrong impression back there.” She looked back toward the hospital. “My mom’s really not...” She sighed. “Mom was right to be pissed at me.”

“What? You beat your brother up?”

Jenny smiled, appreciating his attempt to lighten her mood. “I bought him the skateboard. Mom forbade him to get it, but I thought it’d be fine as long as he had a helmet and pads.”

“What’d he run into?”

“A parked car.” She stared at the distant maple trees lining the parking lot chain link fence. “I was experimenting with a new camera. Michael was showing off when he went flying into a parked car.”

Gabe winced. “He’s not the first kid to get hurt on a skateboard. He’s probably learned his lesson.”

“I learned mine.” She’d never forget the terror of seeing Michael lying in the street, broken.

“It was an accident.”

“It’s my fault he got hurt. If I hadn’t given him the skateboard—then had him posing for pictures—”

“She should love you regardless.”

“She does.” Jenny frowned, not wanting him to think her mother didn’t love her. “It’s just that when you screw up repeatedly, you have to earn love back.”

“I disagree.” He pressed his lips together and shook his head. “There’s nothing my kids could do that would make me stop loving them.” He inclined his head in an acknowledging nod. “Sure, they could disappoint me or damage my trust. But not my love.”

“That’s not how it works in our family.” Jenny crossed her arms, careful not to spill the remains of her coffee.

Had she ever been loved that way, unconditionally? If she had, her memories were overshadowed by rough teenage years. Her adolescence had tried her parents’ patience and love, but to be fair, they’d gone above and beyond supporting her—until now. This had been Mom’s last straw.

Gabe rested his hip on the side of her car and then watched her with a curious expression. Jenny eased back, a bit unnerved at their closeness. He might not dwarf her as some men did, but he had a powerful presence that made her a little uneasy.