A Baby For The Doctor. Stephanie Dees

cookie in there for me. I was hoping we could talk for a minute.”

      Unease drilled her right in the belly, but she poured two big glasses of cold milk and placed the cupcake on a napkin. “Let’s go sit in the living room and I’ll light a fire.”

      With a long match from the container on the mantel, she lit the tinder under the logs. After watching a few seconds to make sure it caught, she joined Ash on the floor behind the coffee table. Gus settled beside her, his big head in her lap. “You don’t really strike me as a sit-on-the-floor-and-eat-cookies kind of guy.”

      He looked up, surprised. “Really? At home, I always eat cookies on the floor.”

      She laughed. “Okay, okay.”

      The cupcake was her favorite but she couldn’t eat it, not knowing that Ash wanted to talk about Levi. “So what’s going on?”

      Ash picked up the cookie and put it down again without taking a bite. “Okay. Let’s start at the beginning. We know that Levi is developmentally delayed. Trauma can do that. Neglect can do that. But when I examined him, he had a reflex—the Babinski reflex—that should be gone by the time he’s three. Sometimes if a child still has that reflex later, it’s a sign that there might be nerve damage. Because of the nature of the abuse that he suffered, I felt like it would be better to do the tests and find out for sure.”

      “You sound like you’re reading from a report.”

      He made a face. “Sorry. Professional hazard. I usually do better.”

      She threaded her fingers into Gus’s thick pelt, letting the familiarity of his soft fur soothe her. “It’s okay. So the tests that we had done were to see if he has nerve damage. Like to his spine?”

      “Yes. The fact that he isn’t crawling or walking even though his nutrition is better and he’s getting stronger made me wonder if his condition is irreversible.”

      Jordan couldn’t breathe. “And the results of the test?”

      “They were inconclusive.” His eyes were on hers, and the concern in them was so deep that it made her feel exposed, like he could see how shattered she was at the thought that Levi might have suffered permanent damage at the hands of his parents.

      She swallowed hard, trying to process but knowing that she couldn’t really do that until she had some space to grieve. “So what you’re saying is that he may never walk?”

      He stared at the fire for a second before he answered, meeting her eyes again. “I’m saying it’s a possibility. Kids’ bodies heal differently than adults. We just don’t know—won’t know—until we know.”

      Burying her face in her hands, she tried so hard to fight back the emotional response to what he had told her and just look at it logically. She couldn’t. Silent sobs racked her body as she tried in vain to just take in a breath. How cruel was it that the abuse he had suffered strapped in a chair and left there could consign him to a wheelchair permanently?

      Slowly, she became aware of Ash’s arms around her, his lips murmuring against her hair. “It’s gonna be okay.”

      She pushed away from him, scrubbing the tears from her cheeks. “I’m so sorry. I don’t know what—I hate to cry.”

      “You love him. That’s understandable.”

      “He’s not even my kid.” She drew in a long, shaky breath. “And somehow that makes it even worse. He deserves a happy, stable life after all he’s been through and I have no way of making sure that happens.”

      “I know. He does deserve that.” He rubbed his temples with his long doctor fingers and she noted that his fingernails were no longer rainbow, but there was a smudge of pink polish on one nail.

      She felt a pang somewhere in the region of her heart as she thought about the fact that he took time to do manicures with little girls with cancer. Maybe he wasn’t quite the playboy that she made him out to be in her mind. He’d also taken the time to come here and talk through this with her because he knew it would be difficult.

      She took another deep breath and tried to focus. Okay, so Levi might be in a wheelchair. At the very least, this information meant that he needed physical therapy immediately. It would be a long, arduous road for him, and she hated that thought. “Is it painful?”

      “His legs? I don’t think so. He doesn’t act like it is. And he does have at least some feeling in his legs. My recommendation would be to do intense physical therapy and reevaluate in six months. There’s a doctor in Atlanta who has done some pretty great work with injuries of this kind, too. It would be good to get a second opinion. I’m not a specialist.”

      “It’s going to be hard.”

      “Yes.” He paused. “No doubt about that—it will be hard, on both of you.”

      “I’ve done hard things before.” Claire had been working full-time when their mom was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer. It had been quick and it had been brutal and, while they shared the responsibility, it had been Jordan who had been at their mother’s side.

      “When I think about the things in my life that shaped my character the most, it isn’t the things that came easily to me that I remember.” Ash made a face. “Sounds like a cliché when I say it like that, but it’s not.”

      She nodded her head slowly. “It really doesn’t matter how it affects me. I’m an adult and I may not have known what we were facing, but I signed up for this. He didn’t.”

      The fire had burned down to embers. Ash looked at his watch and grimaced. “I should go. I have a patient having her tonsils out in the morning and I promised I’d be there before she goes in for surgery.”

      He got to his feet and tousled her hair slightly. “It’s gonna be okay. You don’t have to do this alone. We’ll all be here to help.”

      Once again, Jordan, who hated to cry, had tears pooling in her eyes. She nodded, not trusting herself to speak. She heard the door open and looked back. “Hey, Ash.”

      When he turned around, she said, “Ask me again sometime.”

      “Ask you wh—Oh.” He grinned, that all-American smile of his flashing white in the dim room. “Maybe when my pride recovers.”

      The door closed behind him before she could think of a clever retort. He was so confusing to her. She knew him to be a good-time guy, never serious about anything except maybe medicine. Now that she was spending more time with him, she was seeing a sweet, more sensitive side. She couldn’t help but wonder which one was the real Ash Sheehan.

      * * *

      Ash walked slowly around the pond toward his car. The stars were so bright out here, even just a couple of miles from town. The black sky was vast and it seemed like it should be quiet, but it wasn’t. Horses blowing, donkeys shuffling, wind whispering in the tops of the pines and the occasional shout of a child who was supposed to be asleep.

      It was peaceful, even with his mind on a special little boy with a very special foster mom.

      “Nice night for a walk?”

      The voice startled his heart into double time until he realized it was his brother, Joe, sitting in the dark on the back porch of the farmhouse. He walked a little closer. “A little chilly, to be honest. What are you doing?”

      “Having my celebratory bedtime root beer. Want one?”

      Ash shrugged. “Sure.”

      When Joe came back from the kitchen, Ash took the cold amber bottle and smiled. “You got the good stuff.”

      “Yes, well, by this time of day, I feel the need to treat myself.” Joe took a swig, wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and said, “So what’s going on with Jordan?”

      “I don’t know what you mean.”

      Joe pierced Ash