Vital Signs (7 page)

After brunch Nicole went out to have another look at the garden.

Roy insisted on helping with the dishes, so Hailey washed and he dried. She brought him up-to-date on what was happening with David.

“He's off the IV.” She rinsed a dish and handed it to him. “He likes going to the playroom with the other kids, and he's smiling a lot more now—talking, too. But he asks about his mom all the time.” She scrubbed a frying pan, wondering what made Roy smell so good. She didn't think it was cologne. Maybe it was just good, clean, healthy male, up close and personal. “A woman came by to visit him, Cabral was her name. She said she was a friend of his mother's. No sign of her yet, I guess?”

Roy shook his head and reached for a dry dish towel, his shoulder brushing hers. The contact sent a small shiver down Hailey's spine.

“Nothing. The neighbor who found David thought she saw her in a car outside the apartment building one day, but she couldn't be sure, and by the time the cops got there she was gone.”

“What's going to happen to him when the doctor decides he can be released?” It was a question that had been gnawing at her. “Now that he's off the IV, it won't be long.”

“He'll go into foster care. I'm doing my best to find him really good foster parents, but the family I had in mind have an outbreak of chicken pox, and with David just out of hospital, that's not a good
idea. There's always more kids than there are places to put them. I thought I had a line on a couple the other day, but another baby ended up with them, and they haven't got room for one more now.”

Hailey wiped at a stain on the counter, wondering if she dared ask the question that had kept her awake most of the previous night. She drew in a breath and let it out.

“Roy, I don't suppose there's any chance I could take him?”

H
AILEY TURNED AWAY
from him and started scrubbing the stove. She kept her head down, not wanting him to see how much his answer meant to her. “I know I'm not approved as a foster parent,” she added in a rush, “but they just called me yesterday and said I'm fully approved to adopt now. Surely that's pretty much the same thing?”

He didn't answer right away, and the knot in her stomach grew tighter.

“You really care for David, don't you, Hailey?” He stopped drying dishes and leaned back against the counter, giving her his full attention. His voice was soft and the look he gave her was filled with understanding.

She nodded, embarrassed to have him see the silly tears that filled her eyes and threatened to roll down her cheeks.

“Yup, big time,” she managed after a minute. “Which is why I can't bear to think of him getting shoved someplace where there's already too many kids, where he wouldn't be special, where—where nobody has time to read him the farm book at bed time.”

“You do understand that he's not available for adoption and may never be?”

She nodded again. She'd troubled over that one at length.

“If we locate Shannon, she can petition the court to have him back. She'd have to prove she was responsible, of course. And although it doesn't look likely, if relatives turned up, they'd have first claim on him.” Roy reached out and touched her arm. “I guess what I'm trying to say is that fostering isn't a very secure position to be in when you love a child and want to keep him, Hailey.”

“I know how insecure it would be.” Hailey had thought of that. She'd raised all the arguments against taking him that she could dream up, but they didn't tip the scales enough to dissuade her. “I'd still like to try, Roy. If I don't try, I haven't any chance at all with him.”

“That's true.” He hung the dish towel on the wooden rack she'd installed beside the stove. “You're up against the system here. Being approved as a foster parent doesn't guarantee you any special child. You pretty much have to take whatever you get.”

She hadn't thought about that. She gave him a stricken glance. “You mean I could get approved and still not get David?”

Roy nodded. “But there's also a chance you might. Once you're approved, of course.”

“How…how long would that take?”

“We could probably get it through in three or four weeks.”

“That long?” Her shoulders slumped. “He'll be discharged for sure before then. Where will he go?”

“Into an emergency receiving home, unless I can find suitable foster parents right away. And if I did, I'd be obligated to place him. Once he was settled, the ministry wouldn't see any reason to move him to your home.”

She nodded, trying not to cry. She hadn't understood the complications.

Roy's voice softened. “I personally think you'd be the best thing that could happen to David, and I promise I'll do my best to hurry along your application, but doing the home study isn't my department.”

“So it's not too likely I'll get him, that's what you're saying?” Her voice wobbled, and her heart felt as if it was swirling down the drain with the dishwater.

“Don't get your hopes up too high is what I'm saying. I'll see what I can do. I'd need to know, for instance, what your plans are for day care when you're working.”

“I've already registered to use the nursery at St. Joe's.” It was a relatively new service, and it was expensive, but it was ideal. Parents could see their kids during coffee and lunch breaks, and it was open twenty-four hours a day to accommodate shift workers. David would be just a short elevator ride away.

Hailey thought of Margaret and the complaint she was threatening to register with the association. “As long as I still have a job, that is,” she added in a despondent voice. Maybe it wasn't the wisest thing
to tell Roy that her job could be in jeopardy, but he needed to know. There mustn't be any secrets; this was too important.

“Problems at work?” He didn't sound disturbed at all, just interested.

Hailey told him in detail what had happened with Margaret Cross. “It was an accident, and certainly not life-threatening, but I feel like a jerk about it all the same. Margaret doesn't much like me. She'd do whatever it took to get me suspended.”

Roy was quiet for several moments. He poured himself a cup of coffee from the pot and sprawled in a kitchen chair, one long leg resting on the opposite knee.

“I've noticed in my own work that it's the people who really care who come in for the most flak from supervisors. Would a letter stating what a marvelous and caring nurse you are help your case at all? Because I'd gladly write one and send copies to the entire nursing association.” He took a swallow of coffee. “You're one of a kind, Hailey. Anyone with half a brain can see that the kids adore you.”

“Thanks.” She couldn't look at him. One of a kind, huh? She felt overwhelmed and shy and humble all at the same time. She knew she was a good nurse, but one of a kind? “I don't know if a letter would help or not, but it's great of you to offer.” She managed a smile. “All donations gratefully accepted.”

“Good. I'll write it. Can't do any harm. And, Hailey?” He stood up, coming close to her. “Keep your chin up, okay?” He used a finger to tilt it so
she had to look in his eyes. For one amazing instant, she actually thought he might be going to kiss her, but then the kitchen screen door slammed open, and Nicole came in.

“Hey, you've got such potential in that garden, Hailey. You could have a pond at the south end and a rustic little bridge. And the old cherry tree is ideal for a tree house.”

Roy had stepped back, and Hailey tried to think of what to say. She was flustered.

“I've always wanted a tree house,” she lied. She'd never even thought of one before, but immediately she had visions of David, old enough to play in it.
Don't get your hopes up,
she reminded herself. “But it'll have to wait. You saw the bathroom.” She'd winced when Nicole used it. “It's my big priority at the moment.”

Nicole grinned. “See, that's the difference between us. If it was me, I'd do the garden and to hell with the bathroom.”

“You'd just get me to do the bathroom for you,” Roy said.

“I would, too.” Nicole winked at Hailey. “He's really handy to have around. All you have to do is feed him.”

“I'll give that some thought.” She'd cook her fingers to the bone if there were any possibility.

“Well, when you get around to the garden, give me a call. I'd love to help.” Nicole glanced at her watch. “God, it's nearly two. We've been here half the day. We should probably be going. I've got briefs to do for court tomorrow.”

As they were leaving, Nicole gave Hailey a long, hard hug. “This was wonderful of you. I'm gonna have you over to my place really soon.”

Roy reached out a long-fingered hand, but when Hailey took it, he unexpectedly gathered her into his arms and hugged her, just as Nicole had.

Hailey felt herself stiffen as her body pressed against his. Her heart hammered, and hot and cold chills went up and down her spine.

“Thanks for the great food, Hailey.” Roy's voice rumbled into her ear, which was inches from his mouth. He held her a nanosecond longer than a thank-you hug required and then let go. “I'll be dropping by St. Joe's tomorrow. Are you working?”

“It's my days off. I'm on again on Wednesday.” Maybe she could volunteer to work for somebody, though, if he was going to be there. Anybody?

“Maybe you could give me your phone number. I'll call and let you know what I can do about our discussion.”

He was being discreet, even in front of his sister. Hailey scribbled her house and cell numbers down on the back of an empty envelope and handed it to him. Roy stuck it into his pocket as he and Nicole went out to the car.

Hailey watched them drive away, wishing they'd stayed the rest of the day. Nicole put out a hand and waved, and she waved back.

Get a grip,
she warned herself.
Surely you're not stupid enough to spoil a budding friendship by developing some kind of adolescent crush on Roy, are you?

Of course she wasn't. It was normal to feel lust for a healthy heterosexual male, she assured herself. She didn't have a thing for Roy Zedyck, not the slightest.

And that was such a lie it was a wonder her nose wasn't a foot long.

She walked through the house, restless, nervous…sexually aroused?

She had all of Sunday afternoon free. She could rip out the bathroom or sand the old wooden doors she was stripping of twenty coats of paint, or even go lie in the sun. Well, out of the sun. Freckles were already covering most of her face.

She didn't feel like doing any of those things, though. The day was a waste as far as work went, or play, either. She grabbed her handbag and keys and headed for the truck.

Might as well ruin what was left of a good day by going to see Laura.

 

R
OY DROPPED
Nicole off and went home, comparing his barren apartment with Hailey's house. Sure, he'd built bookcases and refinished an old round oak table, but that was as far as his decorating skills extended.

His place looked dusty and bare, as if nobody lived here most of the time. Well, he reminded himself, nobody did; he spent far more time at work than he did here.

Hailey worked long hours, too, but she had a knack for making a place feel welcoming and homey, and it sure wasn't done with expensive fur
niture. Her house was filled with plants and cushions and comfortably worn stuff she'd salvaged from secondhand stores, instead of expensive antique shops. It made a guy want to take his shoes off and put his feet up and relax.
With his arms around the hostess?

Nicole had noticed he was attracted to Hailey—women picked up stuff like that right out of the air. How did they do it, anyway? “She's a rare lady, huh?” Nicole had said on the way home.

He'd agreed, trying not to sound too enthusiastic. He was also trying not to dwell on the sudden, urgent bolt of desire that had shot through him when he drew Hailey into his arms for that hug. It had taken him totally by surprise. Well, that wasn't exactly true. There'd been that overwhelming urge to kiss her a short while before.

“You should maybe think about asking her out.” Nicole was watching his reaction; he could feel her eyes on him as he drove through heavy traffic.

“So now you've decided to be a matchmaker?” He grinned at his sister and hoped he was deflecting her. He needed time to think this Hailey thing over before Nicole started probing.

“Maybe you need one. Maybe you need a little shove toward a woman who's got all the qualities you've listed as essential whenever we've talked about it.”

“And what qualities are those?”

Nicole ticked them off on her fingers. “You said you want someone who's not materialistic, someone with the same value system you have, an earthy
woman—read
sexy
there—who's more interested in social issues than in her wardrobe, and who's passionate about something besides a new car and her fingernails. And you did say once, remember, that you'd like a woman who wants a family more than a designer home. Well, toots, guess what? Hailey qualifies on all counts.”

“How do you remember all that stuff? And wasn't that your list, as well as mine?”

His sister wrinkled her nose and sighed. “Yeah, pretty much. Although I think I added that it would be nice if he read a book now and then, instead of just watching hockey and waiting for the swimsuit edition of
Sports Illustrated
to come out.”

“I dunno, Nick, that's really stretching the envelope, that thing about the swimsuit edition. I've got the date when it'll be on the stands marked on my calendar in red ink, and so does every guy I know. You don't think you're being totally unrealistic here?”

They'd laughed, and then he'd dropped her off at her condo, and now he was sitting at his desk, staring at the pile of files he'd brought home to work on. But it was hard to concentrate on anything but Hailey.

How, exactly, did he feel about her?

He liked her, he knew that for sure. He respected her. He liked the way she went about her life, with single-minded determination and a whole lot of guts. He admired the way she was with her young patients. He was amazed at what she'd done with that
dilapidated house. And he couldn't stop looking at her legs today in those denim shorts she'd worn.

It was probably her legs that had caused the hard-on that forced him to sit down in her kitchen. The intensity of it had taken him by surprise, because he hadn't been thinking of her in sexual terms right at that moment. He'd thought he'd just been enjoying her as a unique and interesting person.

That's a crock, Zedyck. You've had a buzz on over her for a while now. You know damn well you'd like to take her to bed.

And what about this fostering thing?
Could be a big conflict of interest there, son. Remember the rule about never sleeping with a client?

She wasn't a client, he reminded himself. David Riggs was his client. And there was no way he would ever recommend Hailey as a foster parent if he had the slightest doubt that she was the best person for the job. One thing for sure, he'd write the letter he'd promised her and make certain it got to the right people.

She loved that kid, no question about it. And God knew David needed all the love he could find—every kid did. It was a perfect match, an ideal placement. So why did he have the gut feeling that this whole thing was peppered with land mines?

His thoughts turned again to her hopes of fostering David. He knew that even if he pulled all the strings to make it happen for her, it was still unlikely. He also knew that the chances were overwhelming that she'd get her heart broken over the kid. Hadn't he seen it happen time and again, kids
yanked from one place to the next, regardless of where they wanted to stay? As usual, Scotty Sieberg's round little face was there in his head, and the familiar pain and guilt and sorrow filled his soul. Maybe things would change now, but change never came soon enough. He heaved a sigh and opened a folder, trying to figure out all over again how he could best balance out his conscience, his heart and the ministry's rules to benefit yet another family in desperate trouble.