Family Practice. Judy Duarte

to mind, even though he knew they were discussing dinner and friendly conversation. He hoped she hadn’t read his mind, but when she blushed, he realized her thoughts had drifted in the same direction as his.

      She offered him a shy smile. “I was referring to dinner.”

      “I know.”

      He was amazed by her innocence and determination yet realized she had her own battles to fight in Harbor Haven. And he had a hell of a mess to go home to—a practice he needed to rebuild or move across the country and an ex-wife who continued to write him letters of apology for the gut punch she’d given his pride. No, he and Kara had nothing in common. And their differences were legion.

      He took her hand and opened the door. “Come on, I’ll walk you home.”

      “I told you I’d be okay,” she said, lifting her chin in determination.

      Michael gave her hand a gentle squeeze. “I know you’ll be just fine. But I’ll feel better knowing you got inside the house all right.”

      Then, as he led her onto the porch, he left his front door open wide.

      Because he’d be right back.

      Because the lamp from his living room would help light their path.

      And because he needed a reminder that he had a home to return to.

      Chapter Four

      As Kara and Michael made their way along the darkened path that lined the cottages, an evening breeze stirred the scent of night-blooming jasmine. The wind also tousled Kara’s hair, but she was more concerned about the way that unexpected kiss she’d shared with Michael played havoc with her mind.

      The comfort he’d provided had left her senses buzzing, her skin tingling. Oh, sure, there was a certain amount of solace in his eyes, in his embrace. But there was also a fire in his touch, a mind-robbing passion in his kiss.

      What had she been thinking? She had no business kissing a stranger, a vacationer. It was bad enough she’d have to stand before the judge as a young, unmarried woman applying for custody of Eric and Ashley. She certainly didn’t want the court to think she was juggling her own needs and those of the children. The well-being of Eric and Ashley came first, above all else.

      “Watch out,” Michael said, steering her away from an outstretched branch of a scraggly hibiscus plant that grew along the walkway between her home and the darkened cottage belonging to Mr. Radcliff.

      She made a mental note to trim the floral shrub, then glanced at Michael. She could barely make out his features, only the shadowed outline of an angular profile. Yet she was very much aware of his protective nature. His kindness. He appealed to her, and the attraction she felt pushed the limits of friendship.

      How could this stranger stir feelings she’d never had before, she’d never imagined? He had to be much older than she, well into his thirties, no doubt. A transient vacationer who wouldn’t be in town for very long. Certainly not long enough to establish a friendship, let alone something more than that. Something lasting on which she could pin her hopes and dreams.

      Silly romantic fantasies had dogged her throughout a lonely childhood, but she quickly swept any such notions aside and focused her thoughts on the only family she had really known—Lizzie, Ashley and Eric. Kara would never leave them, never place them second in her life.

      As they reached the porch of her cottage, Michael’s steps slowed. He scanned both sides of her house. “Where’s that dog of yours?”

      “Gulliver?” she asked. “He stays with Mr. Radcliff, since he has a fenced yard and I don’t.”

      “He’s not much of a watchdog. Why isn’t he barking?”

      Kara smiled. “Gulliver is still a puppy. And besides, he sleeps in the house. I don’t think I’ve ever heard him bark at anything other than a seagull.”

      Michael released her hand and cupped her cheek. “If you get scared, or if you need anything at all, give me a call.”

      “I don’t have your number,” she said with a smile.

      He paused, as though caught off guard. “I never expected any calls. Never wanted any. I forgot to ask Lizzie what my telephone number was.”

      Kara laughed. “I had a nice time, Michael. Go on home and relax. I won’t need to call you.”

      A furrowed brow indicated he wasn’t convinced by her bravery, but he sported a grin. “Good night, tough guy.”

      She swatted his arm. “I’m tougher than you think.”

      Kara watched him walk to his cottage and hoped her words rang true, because the only thing she really feared was losing Ashley and Eric to someone the courts decided could offer them a better home.

      But would that someone know how much Ashley liked graham crackers and peaches? How she liked to stroke the satiny part of her blanket whenever she got tired? Would that someone cherish the time spent reading bedtime stories to Eric? Or admire the way he struggled to overcome his disability?

      Kara didn’t think anyone else could love those kids like she did. Those precious children meant the world to her, and she’d do anything to be their legal mommy, to provide them with the loving home they deserved.

      The next afternoon, while he was drinking a ginger ale and thumbing through another aviation magazine, a pounding on the front door jarred Michael from his reading.

      Eric, wide-eyed and trembling, stood on the front porch. “You gotta come quick. Ashley hurt herself and is gonna die. She’s bleeding really bad and crying. We don’t know what to do. You just gotta come.”

      “Let’s go.” Michael followed the boy to Lizzie’s house. The door was open, and he strode inside.

      Kara sat on the sofa, holding a cloth against the baby’s head. Blood had seeped through the white cotton as well as Kara’s fingers. Lizzie glanced up, face pale, hands clasped tightly in front of her.

      “Ashley pulled herself up to the coffee table, then took a tumble,” Kara said. “She caught her head on the corner. We need to go to the hospital.”

      “Did she lose consciousness?”

      “No.”

      “Here,” Michael said, stooping before the whimpering baby. “Let me see.”

      “I can’t remove the cloth, her wound is bleeding too much.”

      “Face cuts bleed a lot. They’re usually not as bad as they appear.”

      “She’s got a nasty bump, too. Head injuries scare me.”

      Michael lifted the cloth from Ashley’s brow. “Hey, pumpkin, that’s the hazards of standing alone and trying to be a big girl.” He gently probed the swollen knot and assessed the gash on her head. “She’ll be fine, although you might want to have the cut stitched. I could put a butterfly bandage on it, but it’s a bit deep.”

      Kara glanced at him, her face pale, her eyes searching his. “How do you know so much about first aid?”

      Michael probably should have told her he was a surgeon, but so far she hadn’t questioned him about who he really was, about things he’d rather not discuss. “I work at a hospital. I’ve seen plenty of knots, cuts and bruises. Believe me, Ashley’s fine.”

      Eric made his way to Michael’s side and placed a hand on his knee. “I knew you could help my sister. That’s why I ran to get you. You fixed up my skinned knee and made it not hurt any more. You’re practically a real doctor.”

      Kara smiled and tousled Eric’s hair. “He sure is nice to have around in an emergency.” Then she turned those teal-blue eyes on him. “Thanks.”

      “I told you before, give me a call if you need me.”

      “We didn’t call