The Baby Doctor's Bride. Jessica Matthews

enjoy your evening at home.”

      “I will.”

      Ivy told her receptionist goodnight, then beelined to the waiting room. “Sorry to keep you waiting,” she told the tall fellow who was studying one of her favorite Anne Geddes prints, depicting three babies decked out in yellow bunny costumes, spooning each other as they lay fast asleep.

      He turned to face her and she caught her breath.

      Ethan Locke.

      He didn’t look much different than he had earlier, although he’d shaved, revealing an endearing dimple in his chin.

      “Well, well, this is a surprise,” she said evenly, both suspicious and curious as to why he’d tracked her down. But she didn’t intend to make it easy for him. “If you want a refill on your antisocial pills you’ll have to see Jed, because I don’t treat adults. His office is next door.”

      His face turned ruddy. “I deserve that, I suppose, but I came to apologize.”

      He’d surprised her, because on the basis of their first meeting she hadn’t thought he was the sort to worry over what she or anyone else might think of him, much less apologize for his actions. If she weren’t so tired, and if she didn’t have hospital rounds to make yet, she might have been willing to spar with him for a while longer. But she was, and she did, and she wanted to fall into bed as soon as possible.

      “Accepted. Now, if you’ll excuse me—”

      “Wait.”

      The one word stopped her in her tracks. She studied him carefully, noticing how he seemed to hesitate, as if he needed to bolster his courage. Instinctively, she knew his apology was only an excuse. Perhaps even a test of some sort….

      “Look,” she said slowly, “I’d love to stay and chat, but I have a hundred and one things to do before this day officially ends. If you’re here for a reason, just spit it out and save me the suspense. I don’t have the energy to play twenty questions.”

      “Have you found someone to help you?”

      “I haven’t had time,” she admitted. “But, as you said, I’m sure I’ll find someone. Eventually. Why do you ask?”

      She’d wanted to say Why do you care?, but she’d eaten lunch, and they’d finished earlier than she’d expected, so she could afford to be nice. For the moment.

      He paused, his gaze steady. “Because I’m offering my services.”

      CHAPTER TWO

      FROM the expression on Ivy’s face, Ethan had obviously startled her speechless. He wouldn’t blame her if she told him to buzz off, after they’d parted on less than friendly terms. Part of him hoped she wouldn’t, but if she did he would go back to his rented cabin with his conscience appeased.

      Her surprise disappeared and her face settled into more impassive lines, as if she wanted to believe but wouldn’t allow herself to do so. “You’re offering to help?”

      “Yes.”

      “If this is some twisted idea of a joke…”

      “It isn’t. It’s a sincere offer.”

      “Forgive me, but I’d never dreamed… You’re actually willing to help me.” She narrowed her coffee-colored eyes in obvious suspicion as she dug her hands into her white lab coat.

      “For a few weeks.” He’d thought about extending on open-ended offer without a set final date as he planned to live in the area until the end of the summer, but he wanted—no, needed an escape clause. Helping a colleague in dire straits for a few weeks should be enough to appease his conscience.

      “Several hours ago you said you weren’t interested. What prompted you to change your mind?”

      “Does it matter?” he countered, unwilling to explain how, after her you-don’t-have-children comment, his former colleague and old friend’s phone call had tipped the scales in her favor.

      “Try something different,” Stewart Trimble had urged. “I understand your reasons for steering clear of medicine, but you still have a lot to give.”

      “I don’t,” Ethan had replied flatly. “The proverbial well is dry.”

      “Temporarily, perhaps, but you aren’t a quitter, Ethan,” Stewart had said. “Pediatricians aren’t limited to treating infants, you know. After bumming around the country for the last six months, don’t you owe yourself the old college try? What would it hurt to agree to a locum job in a practice where the worst thing you’ll treat is a sore throat and an occasional cough? Maybe your well isn’t as dry as you think.”

      Plenty, he’d wanted to say, but in the end the combination of seeing Ivy’s exhaustion, the new load of guilt she’d leveled on him, and Stewart’s thought-provoking encouragement had prompted him to drive into town and offer his services on a limited scale for an equally limited amount of time. It would be a trial period, he’d consoled himself as the distance to Ivy’s clinic had shortened. That was all. At the end of the three weeks she’d asked for he’d have a better idea of what he’d do with the rest of his life.

      As an added bonus, perhaps he could get the attractive Ivy Harris out of his head. His fiancée had been every bit as beautiful, but he’d soon learned that beauty usually only went skin deep.

      She cleared her throat, bringing him back to the present. “No,” she admitted. “Although I want to be sure you won’t fill in for a day and quit the next because you changed your mind.”

      “I finish what I start. If I agree to help you for three weeks, then I won’t leave you high and dry.” His former colleagues at the children’s hospital could attest to that. Once he’d tendered his resignation in St. Louis, he could have walked away, but through sheer force of will he’d struggled through another month until a replacement could be found.

      She fell silent, apparently digesting his information. “OK. When can you start?”

      “Whenever you like.”

      She laughed, the lighthearted sound easing the residual tightness in his chest that hadn’t left him since the day his son had died. “I’d say immediately, but tomorrow is soon enough.”

      “Tomorrow it is,” he said. “But I have a few conditions.”

      A long-suffering expression flitted across her face, as if she half expected him to list requirements she couldn’t possibly meet. “Something tells me I need to sit down to hear this,” she said wryly as she did exactly that. “OK. Give me your terms.”

      “First of all, I’ll earn the same salary you do and pay the same expenses.”

      She blinked twice owlishly, as if he’d surprised her—which he probably had. “That isn’t what I initially offered you.”

      “As I said earlier, I don’t take advantage of a colleague. Especially one who’s starting out.”

      “Thanks.” She sounded dubious, as if she were afraid he’d spring something worse on her.

      He did. “Second, I won’t treat babies.”

      “None at all?”

      “Infants aren’t my forte,” he said flatly. “I’ll take on all the school-age kids and adolescents who walk through the door, but anyone under the age of three is yours to deal with.”

      She opened her mouth as if to argue, then simply nodded, as if she’d decided she could live with that particular stipulation. In a town without obstetrical services there couldn’t be more babies, especially newborns, than she could handle on her own.

      “OK,” she said calmly. “Anything else?”

      “Isn’t that enough?”