Million Dollar Baby. Lisa Jackson

emotions. He had no right to be examining the baby. Yet he touched the child gently, despite his gruff looks. Chandra took a step forward as he said to the nurse, “I want him on an IV immediately, and get that bilirubin. We’ll need a pediatrician—Dr. Williams, if you can reach him.” The physician’s gaze centered on the squirming child. “In the meantime, have a special crib made up for him in the pediatric ward, but keep him isolated and under ultraviolet. We don’t know much about him. See if he’ll take some water from a bottle, but keep track of the intake. He could have anything. I want blood work and an urinalysis.”

      “A catheter?” Nurse Pratt asked.

      “No!” Chandra said emphatically, though she understood the nurse’s reasoning. But somehow it seemed cruel to subject this tiny lump of unwanted human flesh, this small person, to the rigors of twentieth-century hospital technology. But that’s why you brought him here, isn’t it? So that he could get the best medical attention available? Belatedly, she held her tongue.

      But not before the doctor’s head whipped around and Chandra was suddenly caught in the uncompromising glare of Dr. Dallas O’Rourke. She felt trapped, like a specimen under a microscope, and fought against the uncharacteristic need to swallow against a suddenly dry throat.

      His eyes were harsh and cold, a vibrant shade of angry blue, his black eyebrows bushy and arched, his skin swarthy and tanned as it stretched tight across the harsh angles of his cheekbones and a nose that hooked slightly. Black Irish, she thought silently.

      “You are…?” he demanded.

      “Chandra Hill.” She tilted her chin and unconsciously squared her shoulders, as she’d done a hundred times before in a hospital not unlike this one.

      “The woman who found the child.” Dr. O’Rourke crossed his arms over his chest, his lab coat stretching at the shoulder seams, his lips compressed into a line as thin as paper, his stethoscope momentarily forgotten. “Ms. Hill, I’m glad you’re here. I want to talk to you—”

      Before he could finish, the door to the examining room flew open and banged against the wall. Chandra jumped, the baby squealed and O’Rourke swore under his breath.

      Nurse Lindquist, red-faced and huffing, marched stiffly into the room. Her furious gaze landed on Chandra. “I knew it!” Turning her attention to the doctor, she said, “Dr. O’Rourke, I’m sorry. This woman—” she shook an accusing finger in Chandra’s face “—refused to listen to me. I told her you’d talk to her after examining the child, but she barged in with complete disregard to hospital rules.”

      “I just wanted to see that the baby was safe and taken care of,” Chandra interceded, facing O’Rourke squarely. “As I explained to the nurse, I’ve had medical training. I could help.”

      “Are you a doctor licensed in Colorado?”

      “No, but I’ve worked at—”

      “I knew it!” Nurse Lindquist cut in, her tiny mouth pursing even further.

      “It’s all right, Alma,” O’Rourke replied over the baby’s cries. “I’ll handle Ms. Hill. Right now, we have a patient to deal with.”

      Nurse Lindquist’s mouth dropped open, then snapped shut. Though her normal pallor had returned, two high spots of color remained on her cheeks. She shot Chandra a furious glare before striding, stiff backed, out of the room.

      “You’re not making any points here,” the doctor stated, his hard jaw sliding to the side a little, as if he were actually amused at the display.

      “That’s not why I’m here.” Arrogant bastard, Chandra thought. She’d seen the type before. Men of medicine who thought they were gods here on earth. Well, if Dr. O’Rourke thought he could dismiss her, he had another think coming. But to her surprise, he didn’t ask her to leave. Instead, he turned his attention back to the baby and ran experienced hands over the infant’s skin. “Okay, that should do it.”

      Chandra didn’t wait. She picked up the tiny little boy, soothing the child as best she could, rocking him gently.

      “Let’s get him up to pediatrics,” Dr. O’Rourke ordered.

      “I’ll take him.” Nurse Pratt, after sending Chandra a quizzical glance, took the child from Chandra’s unwilling arms and bustled out of the room.

      The doctor waited until they were alone, then leaned a hip against the examining table. Closing his eyes for a second, he rubbed his temples, as if warding off a headache. Long, dark lashes swept his cheek for just an instant before his eyelids opened again. “Why don’t you tell me everything you know about the baby,” he suggested.

      “I have,” Chandra said simply. “I woke up and found him in my barn.”

      “Alone?”

      “I was alone, and as far as I could tell, the baby was left.”

      He rubbed the back of his neck and winced, but some of the tension left his face. He almost smiled. “Come on, let’s go down to the cafeteria. I’ll buy you a cup of coffee. God knows I could use one.”

      Chandra was taken aback. Though his voice was gentle, practiced, his eyes were still harsh and assessing. “Why?”

      “Why what?”

      “The coffee. I don’t think—”

      “Humor me, Ms. Hill. I just have a few questions for you.”

      With a shrug, she agreed. After all, she only wanted what was best for the child. And, for the time being, this hard-edged doctor was her link to the baby. He held the door open for her, and she started instinctively toward the elevators. She glanced down a hallway, hoping to catch a glimpse of Nurse Pratt and the child.

      Dr. O’Rourke, as if reading her mind, said, “The pediatric wing is on two and the nursery is on the other side, in maternity.”

      They reached the elevators and he pushed the call button. Crossing his arms over his chest and leaning a shoulder against the wall, he said, his voice slightly kinder, “Let’s get back to the baby. You don’t know whom he belongs to, right?”

      “That’s right.”

      “So he wasn’t left by a relative or friend, someone who wasn’t interested in keeping him?”

      “No.” Chandra felt a tide of color wash up her cheeks. “Look, Dr. O’Rourke, I’ve told you everything I know about him. My only concern is for the child. I’d like to stay here with him as long as possible.”

      “Why?” The doctor’s gaze had lost its hard edge, but there were a thousand questions in his eyes. He was a handsome man, she realized, surprised that she noticed. And had it not been for the hours of sleeplessness that honed his features, he might even be appealing. But not to her, she reminded herself.

      The elevator bell chimed softly and the doors whispered open. “You’ve done your duty—”

      “It’s more than duty, okay?” she cut in, unable to sever the fragile connection between her and the baby. Her feelings were pointless, she knew, but she couldn’t just drive away from the hospital, leaving that small, abandoned infant. Not yet. Not until she was assured the child would be cared for. Dr. O’Rourke was holding the door open, so she stepped into the elevator.

      “Dr. O’Rourke. Dr. Dallas O’Rourke…”

      The doctor’s shoulders slumped at the sound of the page. “I guess we’ll have to take a rain check on the coffee.” He seemed as if he were actually disappointed, but that was ridiculous. Though, to be honest, he looked as though he could use a quart of coffee.

      As for Chandra, she was relieved that she didn’t have to deal with him right now. He was unsettling somehow, and she’d already suffered through a very unsettling night. Pressing the Door Open button so that an elderly man could enter, she watched O’Rourke stride down the hall. She was grateful to be away from his hard, assessing gaze, though