The Baby Who Stole the Doctor's Heart (10 page)

Trust him. She did, actually. The one she didn't trust was herself. Because she'd allowed herself to feel good that night in his arms. She'd allowed herself to feel so many feelings she'd never felt in her years with Brad. But the thing was, even if it weren't difficult for her to get involved, there was still Mark and his problems to consider. He was running. White Elk was merely a temporary stop and he was marking off his days. So, even if she did think that she could get involved again, could allow herself to have feelings again, it couldn't be with Mark. He would surely be another heartbreaker, and one broken heart in a life was enough. Next time she wanted stability. No, she demanded stability. And Mark couldn't give it.
Wouldn't
give it, by his own admission.

 

“Well, the first one's here,” Walt Graham said.

Walt was standing at the lodge's large picture window, looking proper and well clipped. Beard neatly trimmed now, making him not so Santa-like. Hair cut short. Nice sweater. He needed a pipe, though not to smoke since Walt didn't smoke. But one for image. Being in love again was doing great things for him. Angela was truly happy for Walt and Catie. A little wistful, too. But maybe someday, for her…

“And I suppose we're ready.”

“Nothing to worry about,” Walt assured her. “You've done everything you needed to do. Probably more than was necessary. So now let yourself have some fun with this. You need to make sure this is a good experience for you, too, Angela.”

“It's all been good so far. But…I guess I'm feeling overwhelmed. It wasn't that long ago I was a cook…”

“Executive chef,” he corrected.

“A cook by any other name. Anyway, I was a
chef
. If I made a bad meal, I threw it away. But now, seeing these kids walking up to the entrance, I'm only just now realizing that
this is so…” She grappled for words, on the verge of tears. “It's important, Walt. We have to shape the lives of these kids, teach them how to take responsibility for their health, and I'm wondering if I'm really the one to be doing this.”

“You'll save lives, Angela. I know how badly you want to be a medic, but this will save lives. You'll train countless kiddies how to be fit, how to eat right, and it's a lesson that will stay with them for the rest of their lives. It's a good thing you're doing here, and because the passion to create this was yours, you'll find the heart to carry it through, jitters and all. I'm sure of that.”

Angela ran over to Walt and gave him a big hug. “If Catie didn't already have her eye on you, I'd take you myself,” she said.

“Two master chefs wanting the likes of me, and me watching my diet now…a man's fondest dream and worst nightmare.”

“I'm glad she got you, Walt. You needed to be gotten.”

“So do you, Angela. It's time for you, too. And I've seen the way Mark Anderson watches you. Makes me think it might be time for him as well.”

“And women trusted you to deliver their babies?”

“What do you mean by that?” he asked, arching bushy gray eyebrows to reveal twinkling blue eyes.

“You were observant enough to know when a baby was suppose to make its way into the world, yet what you're observing with Mark, and with me…it isn't there. He isn't looking at me
any
way. Except maybe with a little anger or contempt sometimes, since we do have this way of coming at each other.”

“See it for what you want, Angela. But I see it for what it is.” He waved to the first two children in the doorway.

Emoline Putters, from the hospital, sprang up from behind the hotel desk and welcomed the children in, took
their names, handed them information packets with their room assignments which, as it turned out, were two of the large meeting rooms, both decked out with cots, much the way any camp would be. One room for the boys, one for the girls. Better to keep an eye on the kids this way. By the time Emoline had given her first round of directions, the next few children had wandered in, followed by several more, until, finally, all twelve were checked in and being escorted to their rooms by volunteers who'd come to help.

“It's amazing,” Gabby Ranard cried, following the children. She was with Neil, Eric and Dinah, who'd all come to watch the launch of Angela's camp. “I knew you could do it, but you've brought it about so quickly, and so thoroughly. Makes me think I should offer you an administrative job in my hospital.”

Neil gave his wife a playful nudge. “Don't even try it. She's right where she belongs, and she's not going anywhere.” He looked at Angela. “Are you?”

Actually, she still wasn't sure she was there. She needed someone to pinch her. “I'm good,” she said, looking past the group to see if Mark had, by chance, wandered in. But he hadn't, and she was oddly disappointed. “Look, I'm going to start orientation in ten minutes, give the kids their instructions, answer questions. Parents will be staying for that, and for lunch, too. So you're all invited. After lunch, though, I'm going to close the camp to all visitors for the rest of the day so everybody can settle in, get used to the place. Settle in without being
observed
. But until then…” She stepped back, extended her hand to show the way down the hall, and smiled. “Welcome to the official opening of the Three Sisters Juvenile Diabetes Boot Camp. Look around, make yourselves at home. Have fun.”

“You did a good thing,” Dinah whispered to Eric as they wandered off in the direction of the room where orientation
would be held. “Not just because she's my sister but because of…all this. Look what she's done here.” Dinah swiped at the tears trickling down her cheeks. “My sister
did
all this.”

Eric kissed his wife affectionately on the cheek. “I do have quite a knack for recognizing beautiful women with amazing talent, don't I?”

 

“Can't find anything wrong. Not even a little cold.” Mark glanced down at the chart, causing his glasses to slip a little. When he looked back up at Karen Landry, he did so over the tops of his glasses. “Any other questions or concerns?”

“Can you stop by to see her later? I get so worried, Doctor, being alone now, the way I am, with a child to take care of. And the two of us living so far away, as we do.”

It was an obvious flirtation. Even as out of practice as he was, he recognized the batting of the eyelashes. And what surprised him was just how impervious he was. Karen Landry was, by all estimations, a looker in every way a man liked to look. All that, plus recently divorced. And this was the third time in two weeks she'd dragged her daughter, Aimee, into Emergency. Coincidentally, always coinciding with the shifts he worked. Her attention was flattering. What red-blooded man wouldn't be flattered by the attention of a beautiful blonde, especially with curves like Karen had? Yet, the harder she flirted, the more he wished it was Angela there, doing the flirting.

Somehow, though, he doubted Angela ever flirted. She ran head first into everything she wanted, and never flirted around the edges of it the way Karen Landry was doing. Which, actually, was a little annoying, come to think of it. “As a matter of fact, I'm tied up at Juniper Ridge Lodge after I leave here. We're opening a camp for children with diabetes, and I'm the doctor on call.”

“We're close to Juniper Lodge. Maybe I could bring Aimee
there
to see you?”

Such hope in the woman's eyes. And for a man who didn't want to see hope for him in any woman's eyes. Not ever again. “I'm afraid my duties there will keep me busy. But if you're worried about Aimee again, feel free to come back here to the hospital. We've always got good doctors here in Emergency.”

“Should she be tested for diabetes? Maybe I should bring her over to the camp to be tested?”

He looked down at Aimee, who, at age five, had no idea how her mother was trying to use her as a means to wiggle her way into a date, or an affair, or whatever it was that Karen Landry had in mind. He didn't fault Karen, didn't blame her, didn't condemn her. Being lonely was a terrible thing.
He knew
. And he admired the spirit that drove someone to solve that loneliness. Hoped Karen found someone to solve it for her. “Aimee's perfectly healthy. No symptoms of diabetes, no real reason to suspect it. But if you're worried, I'd suggest you call and make an appointment at the children's clinic, and they can get you scheduled in for a full checkup as well as the blood work we'll need in order to make a proper diagnosis.”

All the hopefulness on Karen's face sank into despair. “She does eat too many sweets.”

“It's not what she eats so much as the way her body metabolizes it. Diabetes is a result of a malfunction in the pancreas.” Simple explanation. He hoped it would suffice.

“And you've checked her pancreas? Because if she needs to go to that camp…”

Mark took off his glasses, folded them, put them in his lab coat pocket. “Aimee's fine,” he said, trying to sound sympathetic. The truth was, while he felt sorry for Aimee's mother, the fact that she used her child to get through his door
wasn't good, no matter what her reason. “There's nothing wrong with her. And for future reference, I won't be seeing Aimee again. All of the other doctors here are qualified to give her all the care she needs, but I'll be withdrawing from practice shortly, and I just wanted to let you know.”

“Which doctors?”

“Ranard, Ramsey, Galbraith…” He watched her face turn into a scowl. All were married, which didn't suit Karen Landry's purpose. “And you, Aimee…take care of yourself!” He didn't give candy, but kids liked stickers, he'd discovered. Bright, shiny stickers, and he just happened to have a sheet of them in his pocket for Aimee.

“I will,” she promised, reaching out for her stickers.

Such a simple thing to make a child's eyes light up, the way Aimee's were. To be honest, it tugged at his heart a little. So did Sarah Blanchard. Which wasn't a good thing, because those were the longings he had to subdue. They'd almost killed him once and he wasn't going there again. Not for a very long time. If ever.

He watched Karen lead Aimee down the hall to the exit. She wasn't mean to Aimee, but she wasn't attentive. Didn't hold her hand, didn't keep a close eye on her. Didn't look at her with a heart full of love, the way Angela looked at Sarah. With Angela, it was all there to see. Nothing hidden. Her daughter was her entire world. With Karen, though, her daughter was merely a tag-along.

On impulse, he flipped open his cell phone. “I'd like to order some flowers,” he said.

“Y
OU
sent me flowers?”

Mark shrugged. “For your opening day. It's customary when someone opens a new venture.”

Angela looked at the bouquet. It was beautiful. Two dozen white roses in a crystal vase. She'd set them on the front desk of the lodge for everyone to enjoy. But kept the card to herself. It wasn't sentimental, but in a way it was.
May all your endeavors be successful
. And it was signed,
Mark
. No love. Just
Mark
. But she wasn't disappointed at all.
Love, Mark
would have complicated things she didn't want complicated. “No one's ever sent me flowers before. I…I don't know what to say.”

“Never?”

She shook her head. Then turned to sniff the fragrance. “Brad wasn't very sentimental or romantic. And before him…boys. Mere boys.”

“Well, I'm glad I was the first.” He glanced at his watch. “Look, I've got to go. Walt and I are teaching a class on, well, the pancreas and the production of insulin.” He thought back to Karen for a moment, almost shuddered. “Basic stuff, just to get the kids familiar with the anatomy of their problem.”

Angela nodded. “A good place to start.”

“So, how's it been for you so far?”

“Pretty good. We had orientation, then lunch. Shooed
the parents out of here then took a tour of the areas where we're allowed. Sent Ed Lester around to lock doors where we aren't. Then went outside and had a look at the beginner slope. Threw some snowballs, did a little sledding…typical snow activities. So now they'll be nice and relaxed, and ready to learn.”

He smiled. “Kids absorb information amazingly well. I think a lot of people tend to underestimate them, but if you reach them on their own level, and you're straightforward about doing it, they get it. Sometimes better than we do.”

“No wonder Sarah looks at you with such amazement. She gets
you
, I think.”

“Mrs. Blanchard!” Harry, a curly-haired child standing at the other end of the hall, called. “Can we go play in the snow again?”

“Looks like your public awaits,” Mark said.

“Actually, that's
your
public as it's time to go tell them about the mysteries of the pancreas.”

“Insulin,” he said.

“What?”

“Insulin, from the Latin
insula
, meaning—”

“Island,” she piped up. “Also, insular, a derivative, meaning characteristic of an isolated people.”

“Are you accusing me of being insular?” he asked.

“Earlier, I might have. But insular people don't send flowers, do they?” She wasn't going to read anything into the flowers other than a gesture of friendship. At least, she was going to try not to. But the gesture scared her a little. It also flattered her a lot, although more than anything it simply made her happy.

“Some insular people do,” he replied.

“Can we go outside, Mrs. Blanchard?” Harry persisted.

“But some insular people, who
think
they're insular, really
aren't.” With that, she spun round and trotted after the little boy, who was already heading out the door.

 

“Sarah, how nice your mother came with you this evening.” Sarah was already holding out her arms to Mark when he took her from Angela. “Don't tell your mother, but inviting her here was just an excuse to get to see you.” He held her on his hip like a natural, but Sarah got other ideas immediately when she saw the pile of stuffed toys on a soft pink blanket on the floor. Immediately, she started squirming to get down.

“You bought those for her?” Angela asked.

“Eric's sister has that boutique in town, Handmade for Baby. Everything guaranteed to be non-allergenic and eco-friendly.”

“But so many? There must be ten—”

“Eleven,” he interrupted. “Couldn't choose between them, so I bought them all. Figured Sarah would figure out what ones she likes and the rest I'll donate to the hospital.” He set her down among the stuffed bunnies and giraffes.

“I think my daughter is going to like all of them.”

Mark didn't answer for a moment. Just stood there and stared at Sarah sitting in the stack of animals, looking wide-eyed at them. “I hope she does,” he said, his voice a little gravelly. He cleared his throat then faced Angela. “A young lady can never have too many stuffed animals, can she?”

“You're a real softy, you know that?” So much so she was tempted to kiss him. But she didn't. “So, what's this about?” she asked, walking over to the picture window and almost having her breath ripped out of her, the view of sunset on the Three Sisters was so stunning. The golds and pinks settling over the sisters, with the midnight blue closing in around them, and just a hint of lighter blue in the background… White Elk, these mountains…it was home. It was her heart, partly because she loved the people here, partly because this
was the first place where she'd ever been truly happy. But mostly because of Sarah. She glanced over at her daughter, who'd latched onto a white dolphin and seemed to be deep in conversation with it.
This
is where she had to raise Sarah, had to give her the opportunity to find the same happiness she was finding here. “Is this the reason?” she asked, not willing to blink for fear she'd miss a second of the sunset.

“It is nice. But, no. I had something else in mind.”

That heightened her interest. She turned slowly, not sure what to expect. Only to find… “A rope?” He was holding a length of rather substantial rope.

“I thought I'd teach you how to harness up. Since we talked about it a little the other day, I decided to go buy some equipment and let you see how it feels to put it on.”

Well, it was a good thing she wasn't expecting anything romantic, because there was certainly nothing romantic about this. He had equipment…things she didn't recognize, things she guessed he was about to put on her. Which, come to think about it, wasn't a bad way to spend the evening. It got her closer to her goal, and that was a good thing. It also kept her from having crazy thoughts about Mark, and she'd had a few of those recently. Like what would it be like to have him stay in White Elk? Her daydreams really didn't extend into any kind of happily-ever-after scenario because she already knew the end of the story—her staying, him leaving. Still, she'd let her mind wander off to a place where he wasn't anxious to leave, and it was a nice place. A place she thought she might like to be. “You bought this all for me?”

“You seemed interested.”

“I am! I mean, I want to learn how to climb. And I want to be good at it. I'm just surprised that… Well, let's just say that this is the last thing I expected. When you asked me here…”

“You thought I would seduce you?” He arched his
eyebrows, showing off the twinkle in his eyes. Then nodded toward Sarah, who'd chosen a polar bear as a pillow and had already gone to sleep.

“You told me to bring Sarah, so I knew that wasn't it. And I'm not sure what I thought. OK?” Actually, she'd played out the scenario ten different ways in her head, yet still hadn't come close to this. And it wasn't about the actual act of teaching her to harness up so much as it was how Mark was going to teach her one of the skills she'd have learned in his school. He wouldn't let her in but, in a way, he was telling her she was worth teaching. He was showing faith in her and that was almost as good as seduction. In some ways, maybe it was better because in teaching her Mark was telling her she was good enough. “But this is good. Really good. So, show me the ropes.”

“You're an interesting woman, Angela Blanchard. Seduced by the ropes but not be me?”

“In the future, the ropes will have a place in my life. You won't.”

“That's blunt.”

“But true.” She arched challenging eyebrows. “Can't deny it, Mark.”

He laughed. “Let's take this to the other room. I don't want to disturb Sarah.”

The other room was smaller, had a desk, a chair, and a mini-kitchen. No bed, thank heavens, because she knew that while seduction wasn't the fare
du soir
, the bed would have been distracting. “So, I've got the rope, now what?”

“Well, the first thing you have to do is with your harness.” He handed it to her slowly, let his hand linger on the harness as she took hold of it. “Hold it up in front of you and untangle it. The easiest way to avoid tangling your rope is to make sure you keep it untangled when you put it away. Nothing is more annoying than dealing with a tangled rope.” He finally
let go of the harness and in doing so, massaged a soft trail over the back of her hand.

Angela sucked in a sharp breath, trying to refocus through the tingles he was causing. “I'll remember that,” she said after his hand finally slipped away from her. “No t-tangles.”

He nodded. “There are ways to coil a rope, but we'll save that for another day.”

Was he purposely sounding seductive, or was she truly in the mood to be seduced? Because the thought of coiling rope with him made her want to do it now, made her ache to do it. The thought of coiling anything with him made her ache in ways she'd never ached before. “Just tell me when,” she managed to say without her voice sounding too husky from want. But that was a struggle because she was succumbing to a seduction in which Mark was clearly
not
involved. A seduction all in her head. “So, what comes next?”

“You have to identify the front and back of the harness, as well as the left and right leg loops. Be careful there are no twists in the harness, then put it on around your waist, and make sure it's snug when you buckle it.”

It looked simple enough, but it was good to have Mark there to steady her as she yanked the harness into place. “It's not going to be comfortable, is it?” she said, trying to draw the webbing tighter around her waist.

He chuckled. “Not going to be pretty either. But you'll get used to it if you do it often enough. So now that you've got your waist taken care of, do the same for your leg loops. Pull each one around your thigh, and make sure you get them as high on your leg as you can. Then buckle them tight without cutting off your circulation.”

She attempted to cinch the left leg first, but Mark stopped her by taking hold of her leg loop and putting it in her hand. Transferring the belt from his hand to hers turned into a lingering touch, one that lasted far too long for anything
professional, or even instructional. His touch was on the verge of a caress… Or was it her imagination? She glanced up at him quickly, to see the expression on his face, and for a flash she thought she saw… No, it was definitely her imagination. He was concentrating, almost scowling. “So I, um…I fasten the leg loop around my thigh, and…”

He cleared his throat. “Once around, then double it back. Both legs. And do the same for your waist. Make sure you pay attention to the buckle, though. This harness says
Warning
on each of the buckles, and when you can still see that exposed, you know you haven't doubled back. Also, get in the habit of looking at the buckle. They don't all have the warning. But when you haven't doubled back, it looks like an O. It will look like a C when you've done it properly. And the belay…” He pointed to the front loop. “You've got it twisted. It goes right over your belly button.” Maneuvering the harness a bit, his hand rubbed over her belly as he placed the belay over her bellybutton. A touch to send shockwaves thought her body, it was so sensual, so personal, even fully clothed as she was.

Everything inside her braced for the smile she forced, trying to make it look steady while she was feeling jittery. “I remember belay.”

“It's important,” he said.

Was he sounding awkward? Was this closeness getting to him? Or was it her own nervousness making him nervous? “As in a lifesaver. I learn my lessons well, Doctor.” She worked with the belt, got it positioned properly around her waist just fine, but she fumbled doubling the belt back through the buckle. The webbing was stiff and, admittedly, her fingers were trembling a little. “A little clumsy,” she conceded, giving it a second try.

Midway through, he took over. “If you're not used to getting this set up, it can be a little tough. And this part is important. You absolutely have to have your double-back
done properly, because that's what will hold you in place if you should fall off a cliff. So what you do is…” His fingers brushed over hers again as he took the belt from her. “Push it through the buckle…”

She inhaled the masculine scent of him. Let herself get lost in it. Shut her eyes, enjoying the closeness, enjoying the feel of him. Held her breath to hold in the essence.

“Then pull it back, tight. Can you breathe?” he asked.

Reluctantly, she released her breath. “I'm fine. Just…concentrating.” It was crazy, how aroused she was by this. But the goose bumps were rioting now, and his touch was making her legs feel all rubbery.

“Good. Because you need to do the same thing with each of your leg loops. Just double back like we did to your waist. And keep the loops as high as you can. Right up to your…”

She nodded. “As high as it will go.”

He nodded back.

She saw little beads of perspiration beginning to dot his brow.

“The webbing on the leg loops is probably stiff, too, so…”

Angela swallowed hard, and forced her concentration to the leg loops.
The leg loops!
She had to get this right. Couldn't be distracted. Couldn't let the skittish lump in her throat pull her out of the task, out of the moment, because this was the instruction she needed. It was about getting her certificate. About so many important things in her life. “It won't loop back through,” she said, pulling on the end of the webbing, trying to force it back through the buckle. “I can't seem to…”