The Doctor's Christmas Wish. Renee Ryan
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Hearing his own heartbeat pounding in his ears, Ethan drew in a tight, audible breath. “Maybe you should have asked Keely.”
“I did. She got all nervous and tongue-tied. What is it with you two? One would think...”
He fell silent.
“One would think what? Spit it out, Connor.”
The other man waved away the question. “Not relevant to the conversation.”
Since dropping the subject worked for Ethan, he refocused on the practice’s newest patient. “Did you discover anything in Flicka’s medical history I should know about, in case I have to make another house call?”
Connor’s eyebrows pulled together. “Who’s Flicka?”
A smile tugged at Ethan’s lips. So the kid only wanted him to call her by the nickname. But the warmth that spread through him immediately turned to ice. Only heartache resulted when a guy got too close to a woman with a sweet kid. “I meant Felicity.”
“She likes to be called Flicka?”
“Yeah, she does.” At least by Ethan.
“I’ll make a note of that.” Connor typed in the change. “You can read her chart later, but basically the child is healthy and up to date on all her shots.”
Good. That was good.
“She’s also extremely fond of you. Throughout the exam, it was Dr. Ethan this and Dr. Ethan that, with a little Baloo thrown in to mix things up.”
Ethan chuckled.
“Given everything she’s been through,” Connor continued, “I suggested Keely create an environment of consistency and—”
“Hold up.” Ethan lifted a hand in the air to stop Connor. “What situation are you talking about?”
“Keely didn’t tell you about the girl’s mother?”
“She did not.”
And Ethan hadn’t asked. Why hadn’t he asked? Because he hadn’t wanted to get too close, or overly involved with the child and her pretty guardian.
No better way to keep things on the surface than by not asking too many personal questions.
“Felicity’s mother is Keely’s first cousin.” Connor went thoughtful again, but only for a moment. “She’s in prison serving a twelve-year sentence for embezzlement.”
The words echoed in Ethan’s head.
Prison. Embezzlement. Not what he’d expected. Even if Flicka’s mother served a third of her sentence, and was released on good behavior, she would miss out on a lot of her daughter’s life, possibly even the important preteen years.
No wonder Keely was concerned about her role in the child’s life. Ethan’s estimation of his neighbor went up five notches. Dangerous ground, since he was perfectly happy keeping the woman at a distance.
“It’s been a hard year on the girl. Village Green Elementary will be her third school in as many months.”
“That explains the stomachache Sunday night.”
Connor nodded. “That would be my diagnosis.”
They briefly discussed the rest of the child’s medical history. Prior to Sunday night she’d had the usual childhood illnesses, nothing out of the ordinary.
Even though Ethan had access to Flicka’s chart, he appreciated Connor giving him the information firsthand. “Thanks for the update.”
Connor swung open the door. “No problem.”
In the hallway, Ethan fell into step beside his partner. His head was still full of Keely and her little cousin. Now that he understood the situation more clearly, he felt a driving need to make things right between him and his neighbor.
Keely had a challenging road ahead. She would need a friend. Why not Ethan? He could think of a thousand reasons why not. Most of which kept him from making the trek across their backyards later that night.
Ethan arrived at City Hall ten minutes early. He took a circuitous route to the conference room that led him past Hardy’s office—empty, of course—and then to a soda machine that was currently out of his favorite flavor. He told himself he wasn’t stalling. He was just killing time.
After a bit of meandering, he located another soda machine at the back of the building. He fed a dollar into the designated slot.
He wasn’t stalling, he told himself, even as he popped open the can, and took a long, slow swig. He tossed the can in the recycle bin, then followed the sound of laughing female voices.
At the threshold of the conference room, he looked around and immediately zeroed in on Keely. She was dressed in casual jeans and a green sweater the same color as her amazing eyes. She was setting Flicka up at the end of a long conference table with paper, crayons, kid scissors and several other supplies.
He watched the two interact. They were certainly easy with each other, comfortable even, as if they were already finding their temporary roles as mother and daughter a good fit. The kid’s transition wasn’t without problems, and could possibly get worse before it got better, but Ethan had no doubt she would settle nicely into her new home. Keely was that determined.
Confirming his suspicion, she said something that made Flicka laugh, which had Keely leaning over and kissing the child’s head. There was something unbearably sweet in the gesture and a sense of longing for all he’d lost echoed through him, pressing the air from his lungs.
Ethan tore his gaze away from the charming scene and glanced around the room again. He knew all the people in attendance by name, their various connections to each another and how long they’d lived in Village Green. That was the way of a small town, and why he loved living here, certainly one of the reasons why he’d come home after Tracy’s funeral.
It took him a second to realize he was the only man on the committee. Hardy Bennett had some explaining to do. As did Ms. Keely O’Toole.
He moved deeper in the room and was immediately surrounded by seven—he counted—women. Two had been friends of his mother, two were local business owners and the last had sat beside him in high school chemistry.
Flicka came to his rescue, by waving at him and calling him over. With great relief, he said, “Excuse me, ladies, I’m being summoned.”
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