Playboy Doctor (4 page)

"It means a change in your shift, of course, and very long days. So, I have to ask," he pressed, "do you have a problem working for me?"

While the shock of the situation still lingered in her eyes, her plump lips pursed to hearty determination. "No, Doctor. I don't have a problem. No problem at all."

"Good." Although not convinced of her enthusiasm, he fought back his sigh of relief. "So, any word on our infant?"

"I do have some more information about Baby Jack's situation," she asserted with all the professionalism she could muster given her unexpected new assignment.

"Jack? You named our baby, Jack?" he asked.

"He was found in a box, wasn't he?" she countered.

Shayne's insides lit up and he couldn't stop his beaming smile.

"Okay, then. Jack it is. And what do you know about Jack?"

Willow's lips parted to say something more, but a faint alarm squealed just outside the door. A patient on the children's ward needed help.

Shayne feared who that patient might be.

He shared a quick troubled look with Willow before bolting out of the nutrition room. The alarm stemmed from Baby Jack's room. All of Shayne's training shot into overdrive. The life-and-death alarm meant one thing. The baby's SAT level was dropping. Shayne's heart sank in dire concern. Without oxygen, the baby could be suffocating to death.

Chapter 3

"I have the oxygen ready." Willow gripped the nearby mask, fearful of what a low oxygen saturation could do to a newborn.

Dr. Edwards quickly examined the infant. "This guy has more fight in him than I first realized. He managed to yank off the blow-by." He pointed to the tiny tubes pushed away from the baby's nose.

While Willow got to work, she inspected the baby's small foot. The tiny guy had also wriggled the oximeter monitor wiring off his big toe. That alone would have set off the alarm from the SAT machine.

Although the SAT level returned, Willow's own internal alarm took time to settle. "What was this baby doing in here... calisthenics? He's going to keep us on our toes, for sure."

With the drama passed, Willow dimmed the lights to let the baby rest. But the surgeon remained in the room, giving no indication he was leaving. Willow watched him deep in thought as he silently observed the child. The low light from the baby warmer cast a golden hue over the doctor's skin, softening his usually austere features.

Would she really have to spend days and nights with him for the next several weeks? Willow already knew the answer.

Add to that, working closely with him in the OR and she had herself one very nerve-wracking situation on her hands. She couldn't help the tension tightening at the back of her neck. She always believed she would find her way back into surgery—something she loved—but after what happened the last time she'd set foot in the OR, she never expected the time to come so soon.

When Dr. Edwards had asked about her surgical experience, she hadn't wanted to let on that one of the most traumatic physical events of her life happened in the OR. Back then, she had been so fixated on assisting with an intense surgery, she'd ignored her own onslaught of mounting cramps. The sudden painful hemorrhaging of her latest miscarriage had hit so fast, she ultimately collapsed right there on the operating room floor.

Willow absently brought a hand to her abdomen. She hadn't remembered a thing after the collapse, but everyone else couldn't forget how she'd wreaked havoc in surgery. A break in surgical technique like that in a sterile field could have dire consequences to the patient. Fortunately, the patient made a full recovery.

The incident report had been straightforward; she received no reprimand, given her condition. But the emotional devastation had anchored itself to the memory. She hadn't been able to face surgery since.

Apparently, the time to conquer her anxiety over taking that step would come soon and she'd have to face the challenge. All because of one demanding surgeon who'd invaded her life from every angle. That doctor was keenly observing her right now.

Dr. Edwards stepped back from the baby warmer, leaned his six-foot frame against the wall, and continued to study her. His scrutiny caused a slow burn through her body, but she wouldn't let him get to her. She couldn't back down from his stare, nor let him know that a single sideways glance from him could send her crumbling.

His body was cast in the shadows of the dimly lit room and he still looked handsome in that tux. Her thoughts spiraled back to the one-sided phone conversation she'd overheard in the nutrition room. Dr. Edwards had been talking to a woman named Lydia and telling her how wonderful it was to hear from her after the fundraiser event. Willow's future with her new boss flashed through her mind. She'd probably hear many more conversations like that, if the man lived up to his reputation for casting aside women's hearts.

"So, you were about to tell me the fate of Baby Jack in the nutrition room before the alarm sounded," Dr. Edwards said.

"Short version, we'll follow policy based on Florida's safe haven law. Social Services will make sure that no kidnapped or stolen babies were reported. Then Baby Jack will become a ward of the state."

A ward of the state. Willow hated saying those words. The abandoned baby would be just another cog in an already overworked system. She knew all too well what it was like to be abandoned. While the infant may never remember his birth mother or being given up by her, the weight of his situation would stay with him for the rest of his life.

Dr. Edwards nodded grimly. "And his medical treatment?"

"Treatment will continue. Once the baby is out of danger and a plan set in place for him, Social Services will take custody through Child Protective Services who will then place the child with an appropriate caregiver. Someone equipped to handle his medical situation."

While she sounded businesslike, her professionalism cracked under the strain of the painful reality of the child. Baby Jack already faced a life without ever knowing his mother. Depending on his cardiac malady, his world could become an endless array of tests, meds, echoes, and perhaps even surgeries while trying to lead a so-called "normal" life. Only a child with a supportive, knowledgeable, loving family could thrive despite the ordeal.

Would Baby Jack be lucky enough to find a supportive family?

"Poor tiger," Dr. Edwards grumbled. "Any possibility his mum might come back to claim him?"

The surgeon's sympathetic response came as a surprise. If she weren't mistaken, he felt a responsibility to the infant. An unusual quality for someone trained to care about symptoms of the body, but not so much about the human condition. She couldn't help but be impressed. Perhaps it was because the baby had been left on his doorstep, making him personally involved.

"It's rare that any mother comes back for her baby," she finally managed to say. "Our Baby Jack is alone in this world."

* * *

Shayne groaned inwardly. As the situation tugged at his senses, he rested his head back against the wall and contemplated the infant's plight. Hard questions jabbed at him. He never liked to let his guard down, but he had to take a moment to process the events of tonight, leaving the fate of the baby's life in his hands.

"What kind of mother abandons her baby?" he asked.

"The kind that loves her baby very much," Willow answered as she ensured the monitor wire remained attached properly to the baby's foot.

Love? The answer took him by surprise. He didn't see it that way. And yet, not surprisingly, Willow viewed the situation from a place of kindness and compassion. He, on the other hand, had chalked it up to some foolish girl who didn't want to play house anymore. When had he grown so cynical?

"You think the mum did this out of love? I don't know about that. An act of fear, perhaps. Maybe a young girl overwhelmed with responsibility. But I'm not so sure love comes into play here."

Willow paused to regard him with an unmistakable seriousness. Clearly, she was as stupefied by his callous response to a mother's circumstances, as he was by her sentimental one.

"I'm sure fear played a part," she began slowly, thoughtfully, "but I can clearly see that other factors came into play."

"Like what?

Willow glanced down and watched the newborn sleep in the warmer.

"I see a baby a few days old, which means the mom kept him as long as she could."

"Right. But why didn't she just surrender him right away?" he countered.

"Love, like I said." Willow emitted a gentle sigh. "Love drives you to do whatever it takes to protect a child. And hold onto him at all costs."

"And you can see this just by looking at him?" he challenged.

"Yes. It's obvious this baby isn't undernourished. So of course, Mom fed him. His baby outfit is new, not worn and tattered. Not even a stain..." Willow halted, displaying a wariness over speaking further. But Shayne wanted to get her perspective, a non-jaded point of view opposite his to help him comprehend.

Besides, he liked to hear her voice, a soothing melody of care and calm that settled any unease within.

"Go on, Willow, I need to understand." He needed to know why a mother behaved the way she did when it came to own her child. He wasn't completely unsympathetic to a woman's plight dealing with a new baby, but given his own personal circumstances back home, perhaps Willow's thoughtful insight could help him see things through more kindhearted eyes.

"Let's see. The baby smells fresh and clean, liked he'd just been bathed before being left at your doorstep."

"You make it sound like the mum was presenting me with a gift when she abandoned her child."

"Every baby is a gift, as opposed to a mere
responsibility
, don't you think?" Her rounded eyes glanced at him expectantly.

Shayne remained still, unwilling to peel back any hard layers to hint at a soft core. But she got him there. He did feel that way. Any and every child was a gift. A gift worth cherishing.

Unfortunately, such a gift had led to heart-wrenching consequences for him back in London. When his off-and-on girlfriend had his baby, he was elated. From the moment he first laid eyes on his son, he'd never known so much love. But when she ripped the baby from his life, she might as well have ripped out his heart.

Don't go there.

"In fact, I do think every baby is a gift, whether or not you care to believe me."

A silence settled between them.

Yes, Baby Jack was a gift. He just came in plain-paper packaging, but just as precious. Making sense of this baby's symptoms, and understanding his fate, became all the more important, and personal.

"I believe you, Dr. Edwards," Willow said, breaking the silence. "I also believe every time a mother puts her child in your care, she is handing over the most precious gift in her life."

Her knowing words burdened him. Giving a gift was one thing, but when it's taken away, ripped from your arms, that's when the real devastation settled in. At least, it had for Shayne. He chose not to share this with the pretty nurse; he had to keep things on a professional level.

"So, how else do you deduce that the mum loved this little guy?"

Willow adjusted the blue baby blanket found wrapped around the baby in the box. "He came gift-wrapped in this. New and soft as silk. The mother took great care tending to him. It must have been heartbreaking to give him up."

Shayne's veneer thinned as he came around to seeing things through Willow's eyes. He enjoyed her tender story. He admired her uncanny ability to piece together a young woman's lament over what to do about a child she could no longer care for.

But what about any cracks in the story she'd told so solidly?

"If the mother took so much care, then what of that old carton he came in?" He gestured toward the worn cardboard box in the corner.

"That old box?" Willow turned toward it and planted her hands on her softly rounded hips. "Now that's the most telling part of the story. And the most tragic," she said without facing him. "The box confirms that the mom never intended to give up her baby. Hers was the desperate act of a new mother with little money and a sickly infant."

No beautiful basket and bow in this scenario, Shayne thought. A fitting way to wrap up a story of abandonment. Baby Jack's story could have turned tragic, however, if he hadn't found the baby in time.

"Ah," Shayne interjected, understanding where she was going with her speculation. "For if she had intended to give him up, she would have put him in something finer, like a proper infant carrier."

"Exactly. Either way, her intent was clear. She wanted to keep this baby."

Every detail Willow offered made sense. Shayne accepted her reasoning, at least for now. Seeing this little life through her eyes kept his own bitterness at bay.

Willow sighed. "Unfortunately, we'll never know the whole story since it's so rare for a mother to return to claim her child."

She turned back around. When she did, the soft golden light in the room reflected in her eyes. They glistened with a moistness Shayne hadn't seen before. She blinked back the edge of tears and returned to the infant's side. She kept her face from him once again. Did she not want him to see the touch of soulfulness reflected in her eyes?