Healing Dr Fortune. Judy Duarte

go that far in trying to locate the mystery woman.

      “I don’t want to come off like some kind of stalker,” he admitted. “Besides, Ross probably should focus his time on finding Dad, which he hasn’t been able to do.”

      The truth of that statement echoed between them until Drew said, “I think we need to accept the fact that he’s gone, Jeremy.”

      “You might be right, but I’m not able to do that yet.”

      “I know.”

      A pall fell over the brothers as they each tried to deal with their father’s disappearance in their own way—Drew letting go and Jeremy refusing to give up.

      When Deanna returned to the table, the conversation turned more upbeat, but Jeremy found himself sliding back into that blue funk that had been haunting him for months—even before he’d come to Red Rock for the wedding.

      The only thing that seemed to help his mood was thinking about Kirsten Allen—if that was even her name.

      Who was she?

      What was her story?

      And why in the world did it even seem to matter? Jeremy had never met a woman who could compete with his patients. He was a driven and dedicated physician, and as a result, he’d never married.

      Maybe the dream and his interest in the mystery woman were just signs that his subconscious—and his hormones—were trying to rectify the situation.

      Either way, something told him that he was going to have to find Kirsten Allen.

      And if it took calling Ross and asking for help, then so be it.

      The rain had moved on by morning, leaving a rainbow in the cloudy sky and puddles on the streets and sidewalks.

      Over breakfast, Kirsten had admitted to Max that she’d taken the baby to the clinic yesterday. And she’d been right about his reaction; he’d bristled.

      “I can’t believe you’d do that without talking to me first,” he’d said. “I don’t want you to take over.”

      “I’m not trying to do that. I was just worried about his health, and … well, you’re right. I shouldn’t have gone over your head. I was wrong, and I’m sorry.”

      “When is it going to stop, Kirsten? You’ve been mothering me for years, and I’ve always resented it. Now you’re trying to do it with Anthony. The way I see it, if you want a baby, maybe you should have one of your own.”

      She’d tensed at his harshness, but what he’d said was true. Even though she hadn’t been around kids, she had always wanted to be a mom, to have a family. But that was not why she’d fought so hard to take good care of Max, to make sure he grew up happy and responsible.

      It was not as though she wanted him to stay some kind of pseudo kid forever. Or that she’d needed someone to mother. “You’re the only family I have left, Max. And I feel an obligation to make sure you’re happy and able to support yourself.”

      “I’m doing fine on my own. I’ve just had a little setback with the job and all.” He raked a hand through his hair. “You’re my big sister, and I get that. But I’m sick of you constantly trying to tell me what to do, how to feel, what to say. It’s my life. And I want to make my own way—right or wrong.”

      Before she could respond, he added, “I’ve been on my own for two years—paying my rent, being a man. And you have no idea how it grates on me to have to live with my sister again, to accept your handouts. Believe me, all I want to do is land a new job and get out of here.”

      In her heart of hearts, she knew that when Max moved out, it would be the best for her, too. She needed to let go of him and focus on creating a place for herself in Red Rock.

      “I’m sorry,” she’d said, repeating the apology she’d made earlier. “I only meant to be helpful. And you’re right. Anthony is your son, your responsibility. I’ll do my best to back off.”

      The fight had seemed to fizzle out of him at her acquiescence, so she’d gone on to say, “I’m trying, Max. Really, I am. You’re not a kid anymore. And I need to trust you to make the right decisions for yourself and now for your son. But you’ll have to be a little patient with me. Old habits are hard to break.”

      “I still can’t believe that you took him to the clinic without my permission. What did you tell them? That you were his mother? “

      “I wouldn’t have lied. But truthfully, I hadn’t really thought that far.”

      He’d scoffed, and she realized just how impulsive she’d been.

      “I can make a hundred excuses for what I did,” she’d admitted, “but I’m not going to do that. You’re Anthony’s father. And you’re right. I overstepped my bounds. From now on, I’m going to step back and let you live your own life—right, wrong or indifferent. Those decisions are yours to make—not mine.”

      Max kept quiet all through breakfast, and about the time she’d decided that he wasn’t going to let her go to the clinic with him, he relented.

      “Okay, Kirsten. I need you more than I’m comfortable admitting. Maybe that’s why I’m fighting you so hard.” He blew out a sigh. “I’d really like you to go with me—as a second pair of ears—but not as my spokesperson.”

      A part of her wanted to back off completely and let him handle it all on his own, but after Courtney had arrived with the baby a couple days ago and announced that Max was the father, they’d both been caught off guard. And together they’d scrambled to buy diapers, formula, bottles and a little bed for him to sleep in.

      It had been almost overwhelming, yet at the same time, there had been moments where she and Max had actually been a team for the first time in ages. And that had given her hope that the troubles they’d had in the past would soon be behind them. That they were on their way to becoming the family they’d been before their father had abandoned them, before their mother had died.

      Through trial and error, frustration and smiles, she and Max had been learning how to take care of Anthony.

      So the baby’s arrival had turned out to be a good thing, forcing the two of them to work together for a change.

      “All right,” Kirsten had agreed. “You’ve got yourself a deal.”

      An hour later, they found themselves back at the clinic, checking in with a matronly receptionist whose badge announced that her name was Millie.

      “Just take a seat,” Millie said. “It shouldn’t be too long. You arrived here early today, which is good. We always get backed up in the late afternoon.”

      Max shot Kirsten a glance, but she bit her tongue. She’d apologized for bringing Anthony yesterday, but she certainly wasn’t going to grovel. What was done was done.

      When they took seats in the waiting room, Max held the baby, so Kirsten picked up a magazine and thumbed through it. She feared that she was enabling Max again by being here, by babysitting Anthony and by offering them both a place to stay. But she couldn’t very well throw out him and the baby.

      She’d meant what she’d said about boundaries, though.

      So how did she go about encouraging Max to find a job and to help out around the house, when he’d probably see that encouragement as interference?

      She stole a glance at her brother, who held little Anthony with stiff arms and a tender expression. Anyone looking at him could tell he had feelings for the baby, even though he’d only known about him for a short time. It was obvious that he wanted to do right by his son. That, she decided, counted for a great deal.

      As the door swung open, and a nurse called an elderly woman for her appointment, Kirsten found herself scanning the back room of the clinic, trying to spot the handsome orthopedic surgeon she’d met yesterday.

      But