Found: A Mother for His Son. Dianne Drake

the doctor? Or the stubborn patient? “Do you really want me to tell you what’s out of the ordinary here, Dermott? Because I’d be happy to.”

      Dermott leaned in, smiling. “One of the things I always liked most about you, JJ, was your feistiness. You always did speak your mind, even when no one wanted to hear it. In fact, isn’t that what got you here?”

      “Believe me, Dermott. This isn’t feisty. Whether or not you want to hear this, I’m curious and a little angry that a man with a serious condition might have killed himself because he didn’t want to interrupt his doctor’s trip to the ice-cream parlor. And I’m concerned that the doctor’s not more concerned than I am.”

      “Oh, I’m concerned. But I can’t control the people in Fort Dyott. They’re going to do what they want to do and I have to respect that. This is small-town medicine and it comes with rules you’re not used to.”

      “Rule number one, no matter where you are, is to save your patient, Dermott. But your patient seems to think it would be an imposition on the doctor.” OK, so she wasn’t ready to give up on it. She was stubborn. She admitted it. And she wanted to know, darn it!

      “You always were a fierce advocate, Jenna. That’s what makes you such a good nurse.”

      He used to be a fierce advocate, too. So what had happened to change that in him? “Your equipment is at Isaiah’s bedside. I’ve got portable oxygen standing by, just in case, and he’s sedated. I’ve also got an antibiotic ready.” All the things a good surgical nurse would do, and she was a good surgical nurse. Also a perplexed one. “So you’re ready to go, any time you want to start.” Jenna handed Dermott his magnifying goggles, then stepped back and folded her arms across her chest.

      Dermott let out a low whistle. “Feisty and stubborn. It’s aged well on you, Jenna. Better than I could have hoped for.”

      “What’s that supposed to mean?”

      “It means you haven’t changed a bit. And I still like it!”

      “So, how’s he doing?” Jenna asked.

      “The sedative has him settled in for a little while. I left a message for his wife to come get him, and told her there’s no hurry. That he’s fine, and snoring away like a broken chainsaw.”

      “You did a good job, Dermott.” It had been nice watching him work again, even for something relatively simple.

      “Just a few stitches. You could have done them yourself.”

      “I don’t overstep my job. There was a physician on call, so it wasn’t my place to do that.” Jenna dropped down onto the brown leather couch across from Dermott’s desk and knew right off she could spend the night there, it was so comfortable. It was a nice office. Rugged, manly. Something that suited him. “So let me get something straight. You do take emergency calls when you’re away from the office, don’t you? You don’t really make people go all the way over to Muledeer?”

      “Of course I don’t. I’m on call around the clock.”

      “Even though the people here don’t want to bother you with their emergencies?”

      “Believe me, most people will bother me. You’ll find out soon enough. But Isaiah…he’s his own special breed of ornery. Nice man who has a real soft spot for children, and he didn’t want to interrupt my evening out with Max. Like I told you before, that’s all it is, Jenna. Don’t read more into it than that.”

      Maybe that was the case, but Dermott was visibly uncomfortable with this discussion. She knew his body language, and the tight way he held himself and twisted away from her was practically screaming that he didn’t want to discuss this. So she wouldn’t. There was something more here, but she was the outsider and it was quite clear, even with Dermott, that she wasn’t going to be let in. So she scooted herself to the edge of the couch and pushed herself up. “I’d like to be friends again, Dermott.”

      “We are friends,” he said.

      “Are we?”

      “What gives you the idea that we’re not?”

      So many things did, but she wasn’t in the mood to deal with that now. Maybe the professional approach was best. Keeping her distance certainly wouldn’t get her into any trouble and, for once, that was probably a good idea. “Look, I’m going to go sit with Mr. Wilkerson until his wife comes to get him.” And try not to think about anything. Including Dermott. Including this whole, peculiar situation about his medical practice.

      Jenna discovered a tin of tea-bags in her little pantry, and that’s all she needed. She wasn’t sleepy, wasn’t even hungry now, although she hadn’t eaten for a while. Tea was enough, however, so she filled the teakettle and sat it on the stove top, then plopped down in the old chair in the corner, still trying not to think about anything. Especially not about Dermott. She didn’t want to pass judgment on anything so early into their professional relationship, although she was afraid his ill-sorted state of affairs here was already clouding her judgment a bit.

      She did want to fight her way through her skepticism, though, and keep an open mind. Meaning she wasn’t making any firm decisions yet. Because she did want this to work for her. For once, a little stability sounded good. So did staying in a place she didn’t consider a temporary stopover on her way to the next temporary stopover. It was like she lived her life from moment to moment, and that’s all there was, a string of unrelated moments. But now that she was here, she seemed to want connection in a way she’d never wanted it before, even though she was afraid of it.

      As the tea kettle began whistling, Jenna listened to the shrill pitch of it, actually savoring the way it drilled right through her brain. She’d been in such a fog lately. Sometimes it felt like her entire life was all foggy. Yet she always wanted to believe there was something more, something better. Something clear and bright ahead for her.

      Right now she was pinning some hope on Dermott being clear and bright, and she wasn’t quite ready to give up on it. They’d been great together once. Physician and nurse working beautifully alongside each other on the job on the one hand. Man and woman relating beautifully outside the job on the other. Neither of those relationships had been explored thoroughly enough to draw any conclusions, though, which was a regret that had come to mind so many times over the years. They’d had their fling, spent a few lovely nights…It had been on the verge of a relationship, she’d give it that much. But that’s all it had been—on the verge. Because that’s all she’d allowed. All she’d wanted.

      Well, it was on the verge again, but not personally this time, as she was older, wiser. Much more experienced. Yet, as discouraged as she was over the prospects of Dermott’s medical practice merely fizzling out from a lack of activity, which would put her right back on the road to the next temporary stop, she wasn’t going to give up on it. In fact, to prove to herself that this arrangement could work, maybe she’d go ahead and unpack her undies after she had her tea. Yes, that’s exactly what she’d do. Unpack her undies, move in fully. It was symbolic of hope, wasn’t it? Or of committing herself to something more than temporary.

      Permanence. It had a nice feel to it. Worried her. Caused a little panic, too, just thinking about it. But it’s what she so desperately wanted, even though she didn’t know how to get it for herself. Hadn’t wanted to, because permanence wasn’t permanent. “Permanence,” she whispered. Then whispered it a second and third time to see how it felt.

      If felt rickety. She wasn’t sure she could trust it. How many times before had she convinced herself she was in the right situation only to find out she wasn’t? Permanence. Not to be trusted, she decided. But this time?

      Time would tell, she supposed.

      Forcing herself to shake off her glum mood, Jenna pulled herself out of the chair, and plodded into the kitchen to silence the screeching kettle and fix a cup of tea. She was on her way back to the chair with a steaming mug of cinnamon-flavored tea when a muffled knock at her door startled her.

      “Jenna,”