Forever A Father. Lynne Marshall
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she could possibly be for him. So if he seemed crusty or occasionally abrupt, he was allowed, and she let it roll off her back. That was nothing compared to the nonstop complaints she’d endured from her ex. Now she was part of Daniel’s team. The businessman and doctor was helping her start her new life in the United States completely on her own.
She unlocked the front door while Anna jumped from one foot to the other, her sign for needing the bathroom.
Keela had saddled him with her daughter today and didn’t expect him to appreciate it, but she’d been desperate, once again thanks to Ron. When would she learn she could never depend on that man? Daniel had obviously been unhappy about it, but he’d stepped up to the task and apparently had done far more than an adequate job, judging by Anna’s cheery mood.
Anna lunged for the tiny pink-tiled bathroom. “Dr. Daniel taught me a trick today,” she called over her shoulder.
“He did?” Keela followed her into the room.
After Anna finished her business, she grinned, shut the toilet lid with a bang and climbed onto it, then leaned over toward the nearby sink. “See?” she said as she turned on the water to wash her hands. “I can do this all by myself. I don’t need that little kid’s stool.”
Keela had seen Daniel only as the man who’d hired her and saved her life until now, but today her predicament had pushed him out of the shadows and into the spotlight. And he’d sparkled. What was the saying? Actions speak louder than words. There had to be a lot more going on behind the gruff exterior of Daniel Delaney, because this afternoon, after first looking like he had a bad case of heartburn, the guy had turned out to be nothing short of a star.
After the rough ride with Ron, who’d changed bit by bit from wonderful to demanding, picky and never satisfied, then flat-out mean-spirited over their three-and-a-half-year marriage, she needed to believe there were still good men out there. Or, more realistically, regular guys with good hearts. Guys who could be trusted.
After Ron’s painful betrayal and the divorce, and a year and a half of swearing off men, since she’d proved she had zero skills choosing the right type, something clicked. The thought scared her to no end, but she was a mature thirty-year-old mother now. She’d moved countries and survived. She’d learned to depend on herself and hadn’t done such a bad job of it for her and Anna. Every day, she felt more confident, too.
She helped Anna dry her hands while her daughter babbled on.
Thanks to Ron, the mere thought of opening her eyes to what was around her, namely Daniel, still sent a jittery wave through her stomach.
* * *
Daniel finished assessing his last rescheduled patient, then went to his office, ready to pick up where he’d left off earlier, practicing his presentation for tomorrow, before he’d been interrupted by Anna. Even though the clinic was empty, he closed the door. The winding tangle in his chest since Anna walked in, reminding him of what he’d lost, pinched tighter. He sat, squeezed his eyes closed and, covering them with his hand, pressed his temples with thumb and fingertip. He stayed like that for a few moments, listening to his breathing, fighting off the pain, the grief, grasping at the calm that always eluded him at times like this. Don’t do it. Do. Not. Do it.
But he didn’t heed his own advice. Instead he opened the lower desk drawer, the one with the hanging files, riffling around way at the back until he found the manila envelope. He shook his head, knowing with every fiber of his being that he shouldn’t, but he opened it anyway. Then carefully pulled out the ultrasound picture of Emma at twenty weeks. The day they’d found out she was a girl. A few days later, when a radiologist had given a proper reading of the procedure, something else even more significant was diagnosed.
The knot that had been twisting around his heart since Anna showed up tore loose as his eyes filled and Emma’s perfect little profile went blurry. She’d never had the chance to drink from fountains, swing on swings, wear frilly tutus or even take a breath on the outside. And some days, like today, he was unsure if he’d ever get past the pain.
Thursday midmorning, Keela was escorting her last patient before lunch to the reception room at the exact moment Daniel came bolting through the door, his smile broad enough to take flight. She glanced at his feet to make sure they weren’t levitating.
He made eye contact and shot his fist in the air. “I did it!” he said through gritted teeth. “They hired me. Our clinic, I should say. Beginning next month, you’ll have to give group physical therapy sessions, since we’re going to be so busy with the City College jocks.”
Keela clapped her hands. “That’s fantastic!”
“I know! Let’s celebrate. Abby, Keela, what do you say? Lunch at The Chinese Dragon, my treat.”
An hour later, having overindulged on the delicious array of dishes Daniel had ordered, Keela finished her green tea and read her fortune cookie. She thought about her patient Joan Haverhill and the quick lesson she’d given on how to read them. “A smile is your passport into the hearts of others...” In bed, she added, then laughed inwardly, but it must have carried to her eyes.
“What?” Daniel said, nursing the last of his beer.
She crinkled her nose and shook her head. “Nothing.” Think fast and change the subject. “Isn’t it exciting that your pitch landed the deal?”
“I’m still in shock.” He finished the celebratory longneck beer, looking a little absentminded. Obviously the guy wasn’t used to drinking at lunch. He broke open his fortune cookie after paying the bill. “Well, would you look at this—‘A dream you have will come true.’ Who says fortune cookies are just a bunch of fluff?”
For a moment Keela gazed at Daniel, who didn’t look away. She got the distinct impression he was seeing her differently, maybe for the first time? Neither blinked during the staring contest, until her heart thumped a quick run when an unwanted thought about his fortune slipped into her mind. In bed. Blink!
Abby opened her cookie, then grimaced.
Grateful for a reason to pull away from Daniel’s deep green and enchanting eyes, Keela watched the fortysomething Abby—with her carefully quaffed and weaved blond hair and meticulously made-up eyes—read her fortune.
“‘Land is always on the mind of a flying bird’? What does that even mean?”
They shared a group laugh, bellies full and spirits flying high, with a little something extra revving up on Keela’s side of the table. Then they all got up as Daniel left an impressive tip for the waitstaff, and headed back to the clinic for the afternoon appointments.
* * *
An hour later, Daniel Delaney sat at his desk and pretended he hadn’t noticed a single one of Keela O’Mara’s attributes. Huge blue eyes? Nah, not his thing. Light brown, shoulder-length hair with gold spun through it? Nope. Never even registered. And that smile, where the sweetest and cheeriest disposition shone bright? Well, he did appreciate that—attributed it to her Irishness—but only because it made working with her as easy as the afternoon breeze off Sandpiper Beach. He laughed gently. Who said he couldn’t be poetic? Besides, he’d need her dependability, since the quiet little clinic was about to get busy. Hallelujah.
He caught himself staring, elbow on his desk, leaning into his fist, practically drooling while daydreaming about Keela and the future of his clinic, then sat straight. Good thing he’d had a beer at lunch and could blame the shift in attitude toward Keela on that. The last thing he needed was to let his thoughts get out of control. The clinic was all that mattered.
Remember Kathryn, how she left you. If that didn’t sober him up, nothing could. Relationships were a sticky process, and he wasn’t the only one with a gut-wrenching history.
He totally understood that by their age, his being thirty-three and Keela’s thirty, everyone,