The Doctor's Christmas Wish. Renee Ryan

through on his cell phone.

      The ringing stopped.

      Banishing unwanted memories and the emotions they brought, Ethan sat back to enjoy the game. The Broncos were about to score a touchdown.

      The ringing started up again.

      Ethan’s gut took a hard roll. Surely the Lord wouldn’t deal him another blow, wouldn’t make him suffer through another unexpected goodbye. He’d had enough sorrow for one lifetime. He put the game on mute, then made the short trek from living room to kitchen.

      The sound of doggy toenails clicking on the tile floor alerted him that his treasured black Lab had followed him. He patted Baloo on the head and then glanced at the caller ID.

      Keely O’Toole. Ethan’s gut took another hard roll, for an entirely different reason this time.

      His neighbor was one of the few women in town he tended to avoid, for reasons he didn’t want to explore tonight. Or ever.

      Since Keely made a habit of avoiding him as well, he figured whatever had incited her to call the house—twice—on the landline—had to be important.

      He snatched up the telephone receiver. “Ethan speaking.”

      A short, tense pause sounded on the other end of the line, followed by a weary female sigh. “Is Ryder around? He’s not answering his cell phone.”

      “Hello to you, too, Keely.”

      She sighed again, the sound filled with frustration. “Is Ryder home or not?”

      “Not. He’s working the night shift at the hospital.”

      “That’s unfortunate.”

      Something in her voice put Ethan on alert. He could practically feel Keely’s agitation coming through the phone. Both his younger brothers were doctors. But where Ethan was a primary care physician and Brody was working for Doctors Without Borders, Ryder specialized in emergency medicine.

      If she was calling Ryder this late at night...

      “Talk to me, Keely. What’s going on?”

      “I need your help.”

      Four words Ethan never expected to come out the woman’s mouth, at least not directed at him.

      Something must be seriously wrong. “Are you hurt?”

      “It’s not me. It’s Felicity. She’s really sick and I don’t know what to do. Should I take her out in this weather, to the ER waiting room, or do I hold off, pray it’ll go away? I’m really, really worried.”

      She was also rambling. Another first.

      Ethan mentally sorted through her words, stopping on an unfamiliar name. Felicity. Who was Felicity? His mind went blank. Then he remembered the little girl who had moved in with Keely over the holiday weekend. He didn’t know the whole story, only that Keely was the child’s legal guardian for an indefinite amount of time.

      “What’s wrong with her?”

      “She’s complaining of stomach pain.”

      In full doctor mode now, Ethan digested this piece of information. “Any vomiting?”

      “Just once, about an hour ago.”

      “When did she last eat?”

      “Around six.”

      He checked his watch, did a mental calculation between regular dinner hours and now. “What did she eat?”

      “A hamburger, fries, oh, and a cinnamon roll. I know they aren’t the healthiest choices, but she starts school tomorrow and I took her to the mall to buy her some new clothes. You might think it’s odd I’m putting her in school two weeks before Christmas break, but I wanted her to meet other kids before—”

      He cut her off. “Hold up. Does she have a fever?”

      Keely blew out a loud hiss. “I checked it right before I called Ryder’s cell phone. The thermometer said 99.7 degrees. Can you... Ethan, please, can you come over and look at Felicity?”

      “On my way.” He hung up the phone and headed for the mudroom just off the kitchen.

      Baloo trotted past him and took up position at the back door, a hopeful expression in his coal-black eyes. Normally, Ethan would indulge the dog. He and the black Lab had been through a lot of hard times since Ethan rescued the animal during his tour in Afghanistan.

      “Sorry, buddy, you can’t come with me.”

      Baloo whined, the sound pitiful and well honed from years of conning Ethan.

      “Hang tight, old boy. This shouldn’t take long.” Ethan scrubbed the animal’s face between his hands. “I’ll let you out when I get back.”

      The dog’s ears drooped, but he obediently lowered himself to his haunches and rested his chin on his paws.

      Ethan grabbed his coat and trod through the three inches of snow that had fallen throughout the day. He didn’t have far to go. The backyard of Keely’s childhood home spilled into his. They had that in common, both living in the houses they’d grown up in, having inherited them from their parents. Ethan, after his had died. Keely, after hers had moved to Arizona.

      He was on her back stoop, stomping snow off his boots, when the door flung open. “What took you so long?”

      Since she sounded like a terrified new parent, he forgave her for her rudeness. “Came as fast as I could.”

      “Don’t just stand there. Come inside.”

      Holding his tongue, again, he climbed the steps. As was becoming a habit whenever they were up close and personal, he reminded himself this was Keely. Once upon a time she’d been just another skinny kid hanging out with his younger sister.

      Despite growing into a beautiful woman with long, gorgeous red hair, amazing green eyes and a figure that jealous peers had once compared to Jessica Rabbit’s, Keely was still that same annoying girl Ethan tolerated because she was his sister’s BFF.

      Except, lately, things had changed between them. Their relationship was morphing into something new, something charged with tension and awkward pauses. The initial shift had started nearly a year ago, right after she’d left her big-city life in New York and settled back in Colorado.

      Ethan moved deeper in the house.

      The inevitable kick in his gut came right on schedule, as it always did whenever his gaze locked with Keely’s. Tonight, the sensation hit him hard. It wasn’t an altogether awful feeling, kind of reminded him of danger-induced adrenaline.

      Precarious territory. “Where’s the patient?”

      “Her name is Felicity.”

      “Right.” Ethan shed his coat, tossed it on a nearby bench. “Where is she?”

      “Upstairs in her room.”

      Ethan recognized the panic in Keely’s voice, which was mirrored in her wide, almond-shaped green eyes. Her long, wavy hair was also disheveled, as if she’d dragged both hands through the now tangled strands more than a few times.

      At the obvious signs of her distress, everything in him softened. He gently touched her sleeve. “I’m here, Keely. I’ll take care of the child.”

      She drew in a few unsteady breaths, her legendary hostility toward him diminishing with each exhale. “I... I believe you.”

      He dropped his hand. “One last question before I have a look at her. How old is she?”

      “She turned seven last month.”

      His throat squeezed shut. His eyes began to burn.

      What were the odds? He swallowed, hard. He’d barely regained his equilibrium when Keely took off at a clipped pace.

      Ethan