The Baby Doctor's Bride. Jessica Matthews

by seven-thirty most mornings, and our first patients are scheduled for nine.”

      “What about referrals?”

      “I send any child who needs a specialist north to Wichita or south to Oklahoma City,” she continued, “depending on the parents’ preference and insurance requirements. My goal is to bring in a pediatric endocrinologist and allergist once a month for scheduled appointments, but with everything that’s happened I haven’t had a chance to organize the clinics. Walt and I have other plans we hope to implement, but, as they say, Rome wasn’t built in a day.” Her smile was rueful.

      Ethan saw the enthusiasm, the confidence, the full-steam-ahead attitude he’d seen in every new board-certified physician. Faith in one’s skills and the miracles of modern medicine made a man, or a woman, feel invincible and ready to conquer the world. For an instant he wanted to advise her to enjoy that feeling, because she’d lose it soon enough.

      Idly, he wondered if he’d made a huge mistake by coming here. Seeing Ivy Harris every day would be like looking in a mirror, reminding him of what he’d once been like and showing him what he was now. A jaded physician didn’t pair well with an eager, idealistic one, but he’d already committed himself and he couldn’t back out now. Not because he cared about Ivy’s opinion, but because keeping his word was a matter of family honor. He might be the only Locke left, but his personal integrity was something he intended to hold on to with both hands.

      “In the meantime,” Ivy continued, “if you have a patient who needs a referral, check with Heather, my nurse, or Billie, our receptionist.”

      “You only have one nurse?”

      “At the moment. But don’t worry. I’ll find another RN. They aren’t as difficult to come by as doctors,” she tacked on wryly. “If you’d like, I can show you around now, or we can wait until morning.”

      “Don’t you have a hundred and one things to do before you can call it a day?” He turned her own words against her, although he found himself unwilling to leave for reasons he didn’t quite understand.

      She smiled tiredly. “Yeah, but it won’t take long to give the nickel tour. We can start—” Her cellphone rang and she glanced at the caller ID display. “This might take a few minutes. Feel free to wander around on your own.”

      Ethan sauntered past the receptionist’s desk as he ignored Ivy’s one-sided conversation. He stepped into the first patient room and saw the required glass canisters of cotton balls, cotton-tipped applicator sticks and tongue depressors standing on the counter, next to an otoscope to look into the ear canal. A biohazard container for needles and syringes hung on the wall.

      Inside the cabinets and drawers he found the odd assortment of other necessities, including facial tissues, blood pressure cuffs in different sizes for little arms, as well as various kits and irrigation solutions. As far as he could tell Ivy had stocked her office with everything a general pediatrician might need, probably to avoid sending her patients on a lengthy drive elsewhere.

      He sensed Ivy’s presence at the door before she uttered a word. Turning, he saw the slight frown on her face.

      “Problems?” he asked.

      She nodded. “I have to go. There’s been an accident. A truck collided with a van carrying six children, ages nine months to eight years old.”

      It would be daunting to treat that many cases at once, especially if those six were critical. Clearly Jed wouldn’t be much help, because he’d have his hands full with the adults involved.

      All afternoon he’d convinced himself he’d do nothing more than swab sore throats, peer into achy ears and listen to a few asthmatic lungs. Unfortunately fate had thrown another curve ball at him. No doubt Stewart would laugh his fool head off if he knew the situation Ethan had landed in without warning.

      She waited silently, but he saw the unspoken plea in her eyes. The way he saw it, he had three options. He could ignore her silent request and simply say goodbye—an option which appealed mightily because he technically wasn’t on duty until tomorrow; he could do nothing—in which case she’d probably beg; or he could put his plans for dinner and a quiet evening at home aside and volunteer.

      Some choices. Two would make him a heartless jerk and one would ruin the rest of his already ruined day. Having decided to fill in out of guilt, he might as well get started, he decided reluctantly, although it had been a while since he’d used his general pediatric skills. Still, he had an advantage: unlike the pre-term neonates he’d treated, the children he’d work with now could point him in the right direction.

      “Would you like me to assist?” he asked, hoping she’d refuse.

      She positively beamed, and took a step forward. For a moment she wore such a supreme look of relief that he thought she might kiss him.

      He wouldn’t have minded. In fact, just the possibility of feeling her lips against his sent blood rushing through his body. Geesh, having such a strong physical reaction on the basis of merely thinking about a kiss plainly indicated he’d been alone for too long.

      Yet, physical attraction or not, he didn’t have any business letting his imagination run away from him. He carried too much emotional baggage right now to consider any sort of relationship, even a platonic one.

      Instead of kissing him, as he’d both feared and anticipated, she grabbed his hand and squeezed gently. “Oh, thank you. I’d love it if you would. Mind you, if it’s all minor stuff you can leave, but it would be great to have you nearby. Just in case things get complicated.”

      It already was, he thought wryly, deciding her touch could easily become addictive. She was warm and vibrant, in a world which had been cold and colorless, but rather than allow himself the luxury of enjoying it to the fullest he mentally distanced himself at the same time as he abruptly extricated his hand from hers. Emotionally entangling himself with a pretty woman who’d want more from him than he could possibly give was a prescription for more heartache. He’d seen the light in one woman’s eyes fade into accusation and disgust. He wasn’t about to experience that again.

      “Then shall we go?” he asked, his voice impersonal.

      Her face turned a rosy hue, as if she recognized his brushoff. “Yes,” she said, her tone several degrees chillier than it had been before. “We should.”

      As he followed her down the hallway that connected their clinic to the hospital, he noticed her demeanor toward him had turned from warm-hearted to strictly professional. Yet when she called a fellow named Ted she went back to being congenial and bubbly again. Clearly she’d chosen to save her friendly overtures for someone who wanted them, which was perfectly fine with him.

      Yes, it was best for everyone concerned if they kept their relationship on a businesslike footing during the few weeks they were together. But, while it was the logical thing to do, he couldn’t deny the sense of loss that swept through him.

      With one phone call to Ted Burns, the hospital’s CEO, Ivy had gotten Ethan consultant status so he could begin treating patients.

      “It’s all set,” she said, as soon as she’d slipped her cellphone into her pocket. “You have temporary privileges with final approval contingent on you coming in tomorrow to show your credentials and sign the necessary paperwork.”

      “So soon? I’m impressed.”

      His surprise grated on her nerves. It was as if he hadn’t expected anyone in town to be efficient. “We don’t all work at Lew’s speeds of slow and slower yet,” she said smartly.

      He raised an eyebrow. “I’m glad to hear it.”

      No, she decided with some disappointment, Ethan Locke wouldn’t win the Friendliest Doctor of the Year award. Wariest, perhaps, or Gruffest, or Most Reluctant, or even Most Mysterious—but Friendliest? Not a chance.

      But what did it matter if he frowned all day long, never spoke more than a few words and kept to himself?