Love on Call (11 page)

But she was more.

Much more.

He knew he was acting like jerk. Owen would be the first to tell him so. Brad had called her from the police station, had gone ballooning with her and had spent the most wonderful night of his life in her arms. Still, he couldn't let Mallory think that their night together meant anything more than two adults needing sexual gratification. He couldn't let her see that it meant more than that to him.

It was his way of slowing things down before they led anywhere. He didn't often find himself in this position. He stayed away from entanglements with women. Those he slept with were one-night stands or women who weren't looking for long-term relationships.

But with Mallory it was different. It hadn't started out being serious. It had just happened. And he couldn't let it go any further. Every woman he'd ever been close to had left him, starting with his mother.

Sharon Yarborough. Thinking of her reminded him of Owen. Brad needed to tell him.

He reached for the phone….

 

Brad's deep baritone voice came across the line. Mallory froze. Had he known he was chasing her?

“Are you still my therapist?” he asked.

He was sending such mixed messages. He'd stood over Lori's bed and virtually told Mallory to steer clear of him. And now he was on the phone asking her to be his confidante. If he were someone else, she would have thought he was playing head games with her, but the tone of his voice said something else.

“Of course,” she heard herself saying. She sat on a kitchen stool, apprehension causing her heartbeat to accelerate. “Are you in need of therapy?”

Mallory wondered what kind of therapy. It was the early hours of the morning. Did they need a session tonight? Would she see him? How she hoped so. She wanted him…in her bed.

“I'm sorry, Mallory. I don't need to involve you in…” He left the sentence hanging.

“Has something happened?” Mallory asked, genuinely concerned.

“Lori died tonight.” His voice was strained. Mallory could hear the pain in it. Like cold water, his
words instantly doused the fire that had ignited inside her, and she also felt a little guilty for her thoughts.

“Are you at the hospital?”

“No, I'm home.”

“I'll be right over.” Mallory hung up and grabbed her coat. She didn't give Brad time to refuse her offer. He was concerned about all his patients, but since she'd found out about the shelter, she'd discovered he had a special connection to the children who came from there.

She was almost out the door when she remembered where she had been tonight and what she was wearing. Backtracking, she removed her white uniform, and hid the key hanging from the green chain in her pocket and changed into jeans and a sweater.

Morning rush hour hadn't begun yet. The wind had died down and the storm had passed over the city. Power lines were down and tree branches scattered the road. Mallory wove her way around them and drove to Brad's.

“I'm so sorry,” she said when he opened the door. “I know Lori had a special place in your heart.”

“You didn't have to drive all the way over here. I'm all right.”

“I know you are. I'm the one who needs therapy.” Mallory rushed into his arms. In a second she felt Brad's arms encircle her. He pulled her close, burying his face in her hair and holding her almost as desperately. They stood in the doorway taking deep breaths and drawing what they needed from each other. Mallory let Brad take strength from her. She
took the comfort of his arms, even knowing that there was no future for them.

When he finally loosened his hold, he kept his arm around her waist and closed the door. Together they walked into his living room and sat on the sofa. The lights were off, leaving only a wedge of illumination coming from the hall.

“When your residency is over, are you going into psychiatry?”

“I gave it some thought,” Mallory told him seriously.

“Many of the nurses have said you're very easy to talk to. It seems like a natural direction for your career to take.”

Mallory smoothed her hands over Brad's. “Tell me about the kids at the shelter.”

He took a deep breath and rested his head against the back of the sofa. “Lori had only been there a few months.”

“Not the shelter here,” she murmured. “Tell me about the shelter you and your brother were sent to.”

He untangled his fingers from hers and leaned forward.

“There wasn't a shelter for us. We were sent directly to foster care. And we ran away after the first night.”

“Didn't the family care for you?”

“They weren't really interested in us. They were in it for the money, but that's not why we left.”

Mallory waited in the darkness.

“Owen and I were sure our mother was coming
back. If we weren't there she wouldn't know where to find us. But she never returned.”

“And you and Owen eventually found a happy family and grew up to be a doctor and an architect.”

“We were lucky.”

“About Lori…”

“She wasn't so lucky. She'd been abused, not properly cared for. She was afraid of anyone who came near her.” He turned then and looked over his shoulder. Mallory knew he couldn't see her features. “Except you. She trusted you immediately.”

“Her counts weren't good. There was nothing you could have done.”

In the dark his head bobbed up and down. “I know.”

Mallory recognized something else in his voice. “Was there anything you wanted to say to her that you didn't get to say?”

He shook his head. “I didn't want her to be afraid.”

“Of dying?”

“She wasn't afraid of dying. She was afraid of being hurt. So little in her life had been pleasant. I wanted to do something for her.”

“You did,” Mallory told him. “You made her laugh. Do you know how powerful that is? For a child who has nothing, laughter is the first sign of trust. You gave that to Lori.”

Brad was quiet. He would need time to let it sink in, time to believe he had done something truly worthwhile. Perhaps bringing laughter to a patient wasn't
considered hard to do, but to a child who'd been abused, his efforts amounted to a miracle.

“Are you sure you're not going into psychiatry? Because you're very good at it,” he finally said.

“The mind does interest me, but I'm more interested in its physiology than its psychology.”

“Brain surgery?”

“Yes.”

“You are full of surprises. Had I been given a list, that is the last one I would have chosen.”

She hunched her shoulders. “Looks can be deceiving.”

“You've proved that more than once.”

“We're not talking about me. This is your session. Why don't you tell me about Owen?”

She needed to get his mind onto other things.

Brad sat back again. He didn't take her hand, but he smiled. Mallory heard it. “He's the best architect in Texas.”

“I suppose he says that.”

“All of the time. But he is good, exceptionally good.”

“What else does he do?”

“He collects marbles.”

“Marbles? Why marbles?”

“When we were kids he was the champion marbles player. He had all kinds, cat's eyes, clear, steelies, aggies. He has a whole room in his house where he has them on display. You'd be amazed at some of the designs he's made with them.”

“And what do you collect, Brad?”

“Nothing.”

“Don't you? What about children?”

“I don't collect—”

“Ellen Grant, Michael Jamison, Barbara Correy, Kadeshia Speer.” She listed them. “They're all at the shelter because you found them on the streets and took them in.”

“I couldn't leave them out there.”

“That's not the point. The point is you didn't just happen upon them. You went looking for them.”

“They needed someone to look for them.”

“They needed the police or social services. They didn't need a doctor out scouring the streets, getting arrested for kidnapping, or a worst fate. You have important work in the hospital to tend to. There are lives there that depend on you. Working all day and combing the streets at night will burn you out, and then you'll be no good to anyone.”

“I can handle it.”

“No, you can't.” She paused for effect, and to take the sting out of her words she grasped his hands and held them. “If you could handle it, you wouldn't have called me.”

“All right, I admit it. I collect homeless children. Is that the first step in curing me?”

“It's not a joke, Brad.”

His fingers squeezed hers and quickly released them. He didn't want her to know that her words really affected him. And she was about to increase the pressure. “You're not looking for homeless children. You're trying to find yourself. Don't you know
they're all you? That each one of those kids represents a piece of you.”

“Is that what you think? That I'm out there trying to find myself?”

“Can you tell me different?”

“Sure I can.” He got up and pushed his hands into his pockets, pacing back and forth.

“Brad, you're a very talented doctor. If something happens to you, medicine would lose, and all those children you're trying to save won't have you as their advocate.”

He stopped pacing. Mallory remained quiet. Her voice was only a whisper in the dark. After a while she stood up. It was time for her to go. Brad needed to be by himself. He needed to think about some of the things she'd said to him.

At the door she turned. “Get some sleep. And for a few hours try to forget everything that's going on,” she said.

Brad nodded. He stared at her for a moment, making her uncomfortable. Then he took a step forward, reaching out to take her in his arms.

Mallory stepped back. “Don't,” she said. “It's not that I don't want you to, but our lives don't connect.”

R
umor spread like a plague through the hospital. Rosa Clayton, star of billboards, subway posters and magazine covers, was in the building. Brad knew there was nothing he could do about it. Rosa couldn't help the disturbance she caused. She was beautiful and Brad was proud she was his sister. Tall and slender, with hair that swung in direct opposition to the wiggle in her hips, she naturally drew attention. Brad had seen many a guy glance in her direction. An equal number had to contend with him and Rosa's other brothers.

People had seen them together, and since her arrival, a steady stream of doctors and nurses gawked at them in the public cafeteria. Rosa had clear brown skin with undertones of yellow. She wore a yellow
scarf today, enhancing even more her perpetually happy look the camera loved.

“Why can't we go somewhere else and eat?” Brad asked with irritation.

“And miss all these nurses staring at you?” she said sardonically, her mouth forming a mischievous pout.

“They're not looking at me.”

Rosa Clayton glanced around and smiled. She raised her hand and waved her fingers at a first-year resident who couldn't keep his eyes off of her. Brad wasn't in the mood for his sister's antics today.

“And where is this lady doctor? I want to meet her.”

“Rosa, let it go. There is nothing between the two of us.”

Rosa opened her eyes wide, “It's been months,” she told him. “Even you should have made a move by now.”

“Rosa…” There was a warning in his tone. At that moment Mallory walked into the room and Brad couldn't help reacting. Whenever she was around his eyes were a slave to her. He looked away abruptly, becoming supremely interested in his half-eaten sandwich.

“Is that her?” Rosa turned around, following Brad's line of sight.

Not only did Rosa's gaze go to Mallory, half the people in the room swung around to look at her. Brad could see the expression on her face. She wanted to back out of the cafeteria. He wouldn't blame her if
she did. But she wasn't going to get the chance. Rosa Clayton was on her feet and moving toward her.

Brad couldn't hear what Rosa said or what Mallory answered, but his sister returned to the table and Mallory went to the food line.

“She's going to join us.”

“You know you aren't too big to be spanked. And that little act warrants a walloping.”

Rosa raised her eyebrows. “You?” she said. “Hit someone? You'd just as soon cut off your right hand.”

Brad didn't like living in a fishbowl. If he was sure Rosa would behave herself he would leave the two women alone and return to work. But he wasn't sure what either of them would say.

“So when are you going home again?” Rosa's change of subject caught him off guard.

“It just so happens I have a conference in Dallas, and I'll be going next week.”

“Wonderful,” she said. “We can make a reunion of it.”

“I'm not going home for a reunion.”

Rosa halted abruptly. It was her way of getting attention. Her entire body, which could be as fluid as water, turned to granite. He supposed it had something to do with her having to stand still for photos.

“You're not going home and not seeing anyone.” She stated it as if it were an order.

“I have to go to a conference. There isn't time for visiting. As soon as it's over I have to return to work here.”

“Bradley Randall Clayton, I will put your business all in the street if you try some foolishness like this.”

He wished he hadn't told her. This trip to Texas would be different. He had a specific purpose that involved family. Not the family he'd grown up in, but the one he'd been denied. He needed to see his birth mother. And he didn't need to have the entire Clayton clan looking over his shoulder.

Brad didn't have time to think of a reply to his sister's threat. Mallory approached the table and sat down.

“You're causing quite a stir,” she told Rosa. “I think everyone at Philadelphia General knows you're here. And they all want to meet you.”

Rosa had that effect on people. She largely ignored the stares, but it made Brad uncomfortable. “Rosa likes the limelight,” he said.

“Only at times,” she corrected. “But it makes Brad crazy, so I particularly love to play it up when he's around. Do you know when he was a kid, he'd hide whenever anyone we didn't know came to the door?”

Mallory glanced at him as she raised a soft drink from the tray.

“I did not hide.” He spoke to Rosa, but his eyes were on Mallory.

“No, he just left the room.”

“Rosa…” he said warningly again.

“Your brother tells me you live in New York City.” Mallory changed the subject and Brad wondered if she did it for his benefit. She seemed to be
able to tune in to his feelings without him being aware of it. The fact that she could tell what he thought and felt made him both uneasy and elated. There were so few people who had been able to understand his sudden mood changes. He knew he perplexed some members of his family. But not Rosa.

“I do. It's convenient for work, but I really like small towns. What about you? Do you like living in a big city?”

“I've lived here most of my life.”

“Mallory lives in a house that her family has had for generations,” Brad interjected. Rosa turned her attention to him and he knew by her look he'd stepped right into her trap.

“You've been there then?” The question was delivered with a raised eyebrow that Brad knew meant she was searching for answers. He finally realized why Rosa had suddenly appeared for lunch. She was probing, prying into his life. She thought he was too much alone and that he needed to find a wife. He hadn't mentioned Mallory to her since the night of the emergency room incident with Wayne Mason, but Rosa obviously had not forgotten it.

“Brad met me one morning and we went ballooning.”

“Brad went up in a balloon? A hot-air balloon?” She shifted her gaze from Brad to Mallory. “With you?”

Before Mallory could answer, Brad jumped in. “Rosa, I know what you're doing. Stop it.”

The two women glanced at each other. He could
see the conspiracy in their look. They didn't know one another, but there seemed to be an unspoken communication and understanding between them—unlike anything he'd ever seen among men.

“I'm not doing anything.”

“You're trying to find out if there's something between us. Let me answer directly. No.”

Rosa said something, but Brad didn't hear it. He was staring at Mallory. The impact of his words on her was obvious. She seemed to crawl inside herself.

He regretted it as soon as he realized his mistake. There
was
something between them. She'd mentioned the ballooning trip, but he remembered their afternoon after that trip. The long day in bed with her wrapped in his arms and his body filling hers.

“Rosa,” she said in a voice that was lower than he'd ever heard it. She cleared her throat. “It was very nice meeting you, but I have to go back to my patients now.”

Rosa glanced at Mallory's tray. Her food was only half-eaten. Both of them knew she was lying. She hadn't been paged or beeped. Her lunch hour wasn't over for another forty minutes. Yet she stood and smiled and walked away.

“How could you be so insensitive?” Rosa asked. “There's something so obvious between you that it's almost visible. And I'm sure your denial hurt Mallory's feelings.” She leaned closer to him and lowered her voice. “But it scares you to death, doesn't it, Brad?”

“Rosa, stay out of my business.”

They both stood up then and started for the same exit Mallory had taken. “Brad, you have to go after her.”

“Leave it alone.”

“But you hurt her feelings,” Rosa insisted.

“Whatever I did or didn't do is no concern of yours.”

“I know you didn't mean to do it. You're afraid she'll leave you like all the others.”

Brad sighed heavily. He didn't want to talk about this. Rosa and the rest of his family knew about his mother and the two other serious relationships in his life that had ended miserably. The women from both relationships had moved, leaving him holding his heart in his hand.

He didn't want to be reminded that whenever he let someone in his life they eventually left him. Rosa concentrated on his relationships, but it had started with his father, his real father, not the man his mother married. His dad had left him before Brad was even old enough to know him. Then his grandmother died and his mother never returned. He refused to think about how devastated he was when the woman he'd been about to ask to marry him decided she was ending their relationship, not for another man, but for an out-of-town job. She hadn't even talked it over with him.

“It's been years since they left,” Rosa pointed out. “Love is something you have to be willing to take a risk on. I can see you have serious feelings for Mallory. And she has feelings for you.”

“Suppose it doesn't work? What then?”

“Then pick yourself up and try again.”

“You say that with such ease.”

“Words are easy. Look, brother dear, I know this is hard, but in the long run it could be worth it. But you'll never know if you run away every time a woman gets close. You saw how Digger shut down after Josh died and Marita left him. Then Erin came into his life and opened his heart. You know how happy they are.”

Brad did know. His brother, who'd sworn he would never marry and have children again, who'd never even wanted to be around kids, had married last year and adopted a little girl. Digger did nothing but smile and talk about his new wife and family now. Brad envied him.

He looked back at his sister. She turned her big brown eyes on him.

“I'll go talk to her.”

At the entrance to the hospital Rosa hugged him and said goodbye. “I'll see you in Dallas. Now go talk to Mallory,” she urged.

Brad watched the tall, thin woman walk toward her car as if she were on the runway of some Paris fashion house. He waved as she continued out of view.

Where would Mallory be now? And why had she acted as she had earlier? The last time they had been together, she'd told him their lives didn't connect, that they weren't on the same plane. Yet he'd seen the hurt in her eyes at his comment just a few minutes ago.

When they were together it was incredible. He liked her, liked talking to her and making love with her. Rosa had said what they had between them was obvious, almost visible. Brad knew he liked being around Mallory, but his feelings weren't that deep. And he wasn't scared. Or was he? Could Rosa be right? Did he really have a deep-seated fear? Was he so entrenched in the past that he didn't even realize it? Ruled by a fear that made him push women away so he couldn't be hurt by them? So he would be left alone again?

Of all the women he'd ever known, Mallory was the one most in tune with his feelings. Yet they weren't a couple; both of them understood that.

Didn't they?

 

Mallory received a message from every nurse and doctor in pediatrics that Brad wanted to see her. She ignored them all, retreating to the coma section. There was no medical emergency. She was aware of all her patients' conditions. He could only want to talk about their conversation during lunch. She didn't want to.

Mallory went straight to Margaret Keller, taking her hand and pouring out her emotions to the serene sleeper. Brad had told her exactly what she meant to him: nothing. And she didn't need for him to elaborate. She didn't want to be involved with him, either. She knew that, had known it from the very start. Yet she'd been pulled in by his charm, the compassion that seemed to be reserved for her and the children he cared for. She'd let herself fall victim to a false
sense of promise. Without realizing it, she had hoped that Brad was falling in love with her.

She'd reluctantly let him into her life, into a vulnerable part of hers. She'd listened to his problems and hoped she was helping him work through them. She'd also hoped she was more than just a therapist or friend, but she knew the hard, cold truth now. A single comment to his sister told Mallory everything she needed to know. She was nothing to him and never would be. Brad Clayton was an island unto himself. He was not planning to sail away from it or to invite others to join him there. He was content, happy to be the master of his world, happy to control it as it was and as he wished it to remain.

There was more to the complicated Brad Clayton than the nurses knew. He wasn't just a moody doctor with a huge chip on his shoulder. He was a man who didn't like change. And Mallory represented change.

“It's all right,” she said to Margaret. “I shouldn't have let him get to me.” She held the woman's hand, knowing being in the coma wing at this time of day would be suspect if she were discovered. “I wonder why he has that effect on me?” She looked at the silent coma patient. “Was there someone like that in your life? Sometimes I hate him and other times…” She stopped. What was she thinking? At other times, what? She loved him?

Mallory shook her head. She wasn't in love with Brad. He was too moody, had too many problems. He didn't need her or want her. No, that wasn't the truth. She and Brad had made love, and if he didn't want
her he was the best actor in the world. She'd never felt so alive as when they were together.

She couldn't be in love with Brad. It would screw up everything. She looked again at Margaret. She wasn't the only one reaching out to people. Brad had his own kind of coma wing. He took care of children by day, at the hospital and in the shelter, but by night he prowled the streets, looking for lost ones to save. Mallory channeled her efforts into reaching the sleeping.

She stared at Margaret, listened to her breathing, watched the steady rise and fall of her chest. The woman slept on, oblivious to Mallory and her dilemma. After a long pause, Mallory finally admitted it. She
was
in love with Brad.