The Doctor's Accidental Family. Jacqueline Diamond

Despite the many reasons why he was bad news, Zady nearly added, “I’m glad you came.”

      She was saved—or thrown under the bus—by Jack’s sudden appearance at her side. “She knows about our plans,” he told Nick. “And she intends to spill it to Marshall, so don’t trust her.”

      “That’s the last time I ever hide in a pantry,” Zady blurted, and marched off, leaving Jack to show Nick around. Not even the sight of her sister gesturing toward a pile of presents could restore her high spirits.

      Well, not quite.

       Chapter Four

      At the sight of Zady, a thrill skittered along Nick’s nervous system, and he didn’t miss the welcoming glint in her eyes, either. As his fellow MD prattled on about the committee and Zady’s alleged spying, he experienced a surge of annoyance, not at her but at Jack for inserting a wedge between them.

      Although not crazy about Zady’s allegiance to Marshall, Nick rather admired her initiative in hiding in the pantry. He disliked doing what people expected, possibly because while he was growing up people had often expected the worst of him. So he appreciated the same irreverent trait in others.

      Still, the situation emphasized the gap between him and the lively nurse. He’d never intended for his lifelong one-upmanship with Marshall to turn into a Hatfields versus McCoys feud, even though it was unfair to deny Nick’s colleagues their share of office space.

      “As to your committee, I haven’t agreed to anything until I learn more,” he reminded Jack when the man paused for breath.

      “I figured I should warn you.”

      “Consider me warned.” It was counterproductive to snap at the guy who’d invited him today, but because of Jack, Nick had lost his chance at a private conversation with Zady. She’d joined her sister in the center of a dozen or so well-wishers, beneath a banner reading, Happy 30th Birthday!

      “Speaking of warnings,” Nick added, “you told me the party was for your uncle.”

      “It is, among others. Does it matter?”

      More than you can imagine. “Never mind.” Nick tried to smile, achieved a grimace and cleared his throat. “I can’t wait to meet your wife.”

      “Anya’s right over here.”

      While shaking hands with a charming woman who struck him as a sensible counterweight to her husband’s enthusiasms, Nick made a quick survey of the living room. The striped sofa, gleaming curio cabinet and formal raised dining room reinforced his impression of elegance. As he drove up, he’d admired the ocean view and the blue-trimmed white house that dominated the block.

      Impulsively, he muttered, “Beautiful place. Must be nice to be rich.”

      “Karen?” Anya said. “She’s not. She inherited the house in bad shape. To pay for refurbishing, she had to take in renters.”

      Kicking himself for being judgmental, Nick said, “I shouldn’t leap to conclusions. But now that she’s married an anesthesiologist, surely they can afford to keep the place to themselves.”

      “Rod’s practically broke.” Jack shrugged. “He spent years fighting for custody of his daughters, whom he lost to their billionaire stepfather. That would be the late Vince Adams, who endowed the Porvamm to the hospital.”

      “And now, here we are.” A red-haired girl in her early teens presented a tray filled with stuffed mushrooms. “Is this the cute new doctor Zora’s been talking about? Hi, I’m Tiffany Adams.”

      “I’m Nick Davis, and thanks for the compliment.” He’d have extended his hand, but hers were already occupied. Instead, he selected an hors d’oeuvre.

      “Sorry for gossiping,” Jack said.

      “I forgive you. Don’t do it again, cuz.” After a mock attempt to kick his ankle, the girl moved on.

      What an interesting group, Nick mused. He’d heard that Tiffany and her younger sister, who must be the flame-haired kid also passing out treats, had inherited a fortune, but they didn’t act snobbish. There was nothing wrong with money as long as you didn’t let it inflate your ego or corrupt your values, as it seemed to have with Marshall and his parents.

      A shout of laughter erupted around the gift table. Zady and Zora were performing an impromptu baton-twirling routine with a pair of canes, no doubt a gag gift implying they’d become decrepit with age. Karen, watching beside her husband, gazed anxiously at a nearby lamp.

      The twins halted amid giggles. “You’d better keep these.” Zora handed both canes to Rod. “As you can see, we’re a menace.”

      “Sorry, Karen,” Zady added.

      “No harm done,” responded the bride.

      Observing the sisters together, Nick was again struck by the similarities of coloring, height and mannerism, but also by the differences. Thinner, with reddish-brown hair a shade lighter than her twin’s, Zady had a more reserved manner and a trace of sadness around the eyes.

      What was bothering her? Her gaze kept returning to the pink-blanket-wrapped baby girl nestled in Lucky’s arms. Longing to be a mother, too?

      Ironically, Nick had had a son before he’d even thought about fatherhood. In the three years since then, Caleb had changed him. If only he could offer his son an ideal home, with two happily married parents, but that hadn’t been in the cards. Now Nick was determined to provide the boy with as much stability as possible, but it was proving an uphill battle.

      Elaine Carrigan had led him through yet another song-and-dance routine about tomorrow’s meetup with Caleb. She’d seemed especially reluctant to have Nick visit their home. Only when Nick demanded straight out that she tell him what was wrong had she backed down and suggested he arrive after lunch for a play session.

      The couple owned a large house in a semirural setting. Bethany had cited her desire to raise their son there as one of several reasons for rejecting Nick’s offer of marriage, and the Carrigans had emphasized how much Caleb loved the place when they’d urged Nick to let him stay with them after Bethany’s death.

      But what was going on now? Had the house become unsafe, or were they trying to edge him out of the boy’s life? Worst-case scenario: they planned a bid for custody and, by reducing contact, aimed to portray him as an indifferent father.

      Tomorrow, he’d find out.

      Across the room, the twins were laughing again as they displayed the contents of an over-the-hill survival kit: fanglike teeth, bottle-thick glasses and Halloween-worthy black wigs. They called out thanks to the eminent Dr. Cole Rattigan.

      When Nick had met him at the hospital, the man had inclined his head with royal coolness, leaving an impression of arrogance. Today, however, he beamed at everyone. No doubt both his attitude and the funny gift owed a lot to the elfin woman with him, also the object of the twins’ gratitude. That must be his wife, Stacy.

      An older woman with graying dark hair brushed past Nick to scoop wrapping paper and ribbons into a trash bag. She was clearly the other housemate he’d heard about, a nurse. “Ready for cake?” she asked the birthday duo.

      “You bet, Keely.” Thanking everyone again, Zora piled the gifts neatly, while Zady silently gathered the remaining wrappings. Struck by her reticence, Nick recalled that these were her sister’s friends. While everyone appeared to welcome her, he wondered if she, too, felt like an outsider.

      Most of the residents and guests trooped into the den, where Nick had seen a cake on display. Only he and Zady lingered in the living room.

      “I’d have brought a gift if I’d realized it was your birthday.” He bent to lift one end of the coffee table as she raised the other.

      “Like