A Family for the Children's Doctor. Dianne Drake

trying to gather his wits before going back into the ice-cream parlor and walking over to the table where mother and daughter were finishing off their ice creams. It wasn’t fair to leave them in the lurch here, but he needed to be back home for Sean. His son came first. That’s all there was to it. “Dr Bonaventura,” he said before he’d even stopped in front of them, “I’m afraid I’ve got some bad news for you.”

      CHAPTER TWO

      BAD news. Why wasn’t she surprised? Judging from his body language throughout his phone call, she’d been pretty sure the news wasn’t good. Then, when he’d caught her eye and deliberately turned his back, she’d gotten the distinct impression that his bad news, in some way, affected her. Which could only mean he was backing out of his promise. The expression on his face right now confirmed it.

      Caprice braced herself for the actual words, still hoping she was wrong. “Why do I get the feeling your bad news has direct bearing on me and Operation Smiling Faces?”

      “Because it does. I have to return to Miami as soon as I can catch a plane out of here. Family emergency.”

      “Someone died?” she gasped.

      Adrian shook his head.

      “Injured, ill?”

      He shook his head again.

      Now she was beginning to wonder. “Disaster?”

      “No. Just something personal I need to take care of.”

      Personal? The man had a personal problem and he was about to dump them? She shook her head in disbelief. It truly hadn’t crossed her mind that someone with such a sterling reputation as Adrian McCallan’s would back out on her. But he was doing just that, and he wasn’t giving her a good reason. There were many things she could and would accept, but a vague personal reason? “And what about your obligation here?” she asked, trying to delay her anger in case there really was a valid reason for him leaving.

      “I don’t have a choice. I’ve been called back because of…” He frowned. “It’s complicated. Let’s just say that some finished business back home wasn’t as finished as I’d thought it was.”

      “Unfinished business.” Initial shock over with now, it was all beginning to sink in and the anger was starting to bubble. He was leaving for nothing that seemed all that pressing, which meant there would be a shortage in her medical teams. They were geared up for four teams, and Adrian’s departure would reduce their workforce by one-fourth, because without the anesthesiologist the surgeon could not operate. As simple as that. Children expecting follow-up surgeries, or even the beginning surgeries in a long series of procedures, wouldn’t get what they expected because of Adrian’s unfinished business. In his two weeks here, that could mean as many as fifteen or twenty surgeries not getting done, fifteen or twenty children expecting a miracle and a smile being turned away. More tears over more ridicule.

      “I don’t suppose you’d like to tell me what this unfinished business is, would you? I have numerous contacts back in the States, and maybe I can find someone to take care of your problems so you won’t have to leave.” Nice try, but from the dead hard set to his face, she knew she’d failed. He wasn’t about to tell her any more than he already had.

      “Nothing you can help with,” he said gruffly. “And I’m sorry it worked out this way. I really intended to fulfill my part of the obligation. Unfortunately, it’s simply not meant to be this time.”

      “Not meant to be?” she exploded, unable to keep it in any longer. “You’re pushing this off like it’s a casual trip to the grocery store. Can’t go this time but maybe next time. I resent that, Doctor, since so many people are depending on you as part of the surgical team.” Caprice glanced at Isabella, who’d stopped eating and was staring up wide-eyed at her, then she took a deep breath to steady herself. “We had an agreement, Dr McCallan,” she said stiffly, aware that there was no way, legal or otherwise, she could keep him there if he chose to leave. “I counted on you keeping your word.”

      “So did I, Dr Bonaventura, but, like I said, something came up.”

      “So, what am I supposed to do? Tell my patients that they’ll have to go away because something came up? Try to schedule them for another time, even though my next three trips down here are already booked solid with former patients? Tell them, tough luck, that a hemangioma doesn’t matter, or that Goldenhar syndrome can be fixed by heavy cosmetics, low-brimmed hats and lots of scarves? Because that’s not good enough. These people expect that when I promise them a procedure I’ll deliver it, and part of that delivery is you, Dr McCallan. Some of these children have waited for years and it’s not fair to tell them I’ll have to put them back on the list, that they might have to wait another few months or years.” She slapped her napkin down on the table, scooted her chair back across the floor so hard it hit the empty chair behind her, and stood. “That’s not good enough. And it’s not fair.”

      “I’ll find a replacement,” he offered. “As soon as I return I’ll make some calls.”

      “And have someone here when? By tomorrow morning? Because that’s when we open the clinic and start evaluating patients, looking at new cases coming in—and there will be dozens of them—and doing physicals for the children already scheduled for surgery. Will you have me that replacement by then, Doctor?”

      “Who’s next on the list?” he asked. “I’ll call them right now, and I’ll assume the financially responsibility to get them here. I mean, it’s really not my intention to cause you any problems here. So, I’ll be glad to—”

      “You’re next on the list, Doctor,” Caprice interrupted. “My other replacement wasn’t available, and the one after that is out with another of the Operation Smiling Face units right now. Meaning you were last on the list.”

      “Last on the list?” he sputtered.

      “Last. Very last. People are good to send money, but finding time to volunteer is another thing.”

      “He’s not coming back to Dulce with us?” Isabella piped up.

      Caprice turned to her daughter, fighting hard to erase the angry expression from her face. “No, sweetie, he’s not. He’s got to go back home as soon as he can.”

      Isabella scrunched her face into a sulky little frown, then crossed her arms angrily across her chest. “I don’t want him to. I want Adrian to stay.”

      Great, just great! One fleeing doctor, one pouting child. Could this day get any worse? “So do I, but it’s not my decision to make.”

      “But you’re the boss,” she cried. “Can’t you make him?”

      Caprice turned back to Adrian. “What would it take to convince you to stay?” she asked, the anger returning the instant she looked at him. This man was really leaving her in a lurch, and all she could think about were the disappointments and heartbreak she would have to cause. She hated that. Hated him for being the cause of it. “If it’s money—”

      “Not money,” he interrupted. “Like I said, it’s just some matters that need my attention.”

      “Can’t they wait for two weeks?”

      He shook his head. “Look, I feel bad about this. I really wanted to come out here and do the work. And I’ll be willing to come back at another time…”

      “Once is all you get, Doctor. I can’t afford second chances when somebody stands me up on the first chance. Not with the workload we carry here. It would be foolish of me to trust you again. Wouldn’t you agree?”

      “Then maybe one of the other units will have me in the future because I really want to do this. But right now I’ve got to get home. Sorry about that.”

      Sorry? He was sorry? “Not half as sorry as the children will be,” she said, taking Isabella by the hand and leading her away from the table. As Caprice swished