His Motherless Little Twins. Dianne Drake
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her birth mother had simply walked away. Never looked back. And had left a precious child to die alone in an impersonal hospital nursery where the duty nurses took good care, but didn’t truly care. No child should ever be alone that way, and she’d made sure Molly had never been alone.
It had reawakened something in her. A longing. And watching Bryce now reminded her of the all things he would have ahead of him, things Molly wouldn’t have. She wouldn’t have gone home from the hospital, wouldn’t have slept in a crib, wouldn’t have had toys to play with. All those weeks sitting with Molly in the hospital, holding her, singing to her, she’d wanted to pretend things could be normal for the child, but she’d known…as a nurse, she’d known. All those weeks with Charles calling her crazy for getting involved. Hopeless was what he’d called Molly. But Dinah had never seen hopeless. All she’d seen had been a sick child who’d had no one but her.
How could she have been so wrong about Charles? He was a pediatrician. He was supposed to love children, no matter what their condition. Through Molly, what she’d come to know had been a man who could barely tolerate them.
How could she have been so blind?
Now, watching Bryce, and feeling so connected to him, the longing to be part of something so good was stirring again. It would be nice to sit and cradle him in her arms the way she had Molly, to whisper motherly things in his tiny ear. It was a feeling that scared her, though, because she knew the pain of loss when it ended. It was unbearable. So deep and profound nothing could touch it or make it better.
Not ever.
With her marriage to Damien, shortly after she’d graduated from nursing school, she’d wanted all the right things—the nice little house with a white picket fence. Wanted to bake pies for her husband and cool them on the windowsill in the afternoon so their sweet aromas would waft down to him as he came home from work. Wanted children playing in the yard. Wanted to snuggle with him in the evening after the children were in bed, and talk about the things that were interesting to no one but themselves—how their days had been, who they’d met on the street, what they were going to do tomorrow, and next week and next year. But that was a dream life that hadn’t come true as Damien had been bored with their daydreams by the end of their first year together and already working on a way to find his life with someone else. And here she was now, at thirty-four, fresh from the last daydream fiasco with Charles, older but, apparently, not much wiser.
Well, experience was the best teacher. Maybe she had a tendency to let her heart rule her head, but this time her head was fastened on better. Avoid relationships and the problems didn’t happen.
“He looks so peaceful, you wouldn’t know what he’s just gone through, would you?” Eric asked.
“Eric!” she gasped, startled that he’d been able to sneak up on her like that. She’d been too lost in the daydream she didn’t want to have, too caught up in something she couldn’t allow herself, and this lapse in judgment had everything to do with him. Not that he would be interested in her that way. Yet he was practically hanging over her shoulder now. Standing much too close. So close, in fact, that the scent of soap on his skin threatened to tip her right back into her daydream.
As a preventative to the thoughts trying to creep in, Dinah moved round to the other side of the baby’s crib, laid her hands on the raised rails and relaxed a little. She was safe here, keeping so many physical obstacles between her and Eric, even if Eric didn’t know what she was doing, or how she was feeling, being so close to him. “Babies are resilient. Much more than we are, I think.”
“Is that why you chose pediatrics?” he asked.
“Actually, my most recent choice was a kitchen in a ski lodge.” It was a blatant dodge, but she didn’t want to talk about it, didn’t want to look up at him for fear he could find the answers he was seeking in her eyes. And they were there, she was sure of it.
“Before that.”
“In my life, before that doesn’t matter,” she said, her voice now a whisper. “I’ve had a few of those and now I am what I am in the moment. Don’t expect anything else.” He was going to respond to that. In fact, she was so sure of it she practically held her breath waiting for it, but when he didn’t, Dinah finally did look up. “No response?” she asked. “No pithy little comeback?”
“Something I learned a long time ago is that when people drop those kinds of explosive statements, it’s best to back away. If they want to explain it, they will. If they don’t, you’re at a safe distance.” He grinned. “Right now, I like the safety in this distance.”
“I appreciate that,” she said. And truly she did. There was no point starting a new life and blurting out all the unhappy parts of the old one every time the opportunity arose. While she wasn’t really here to make new friends, or find a new start, she did want to make the most of the next few weeks, especially with the people she might see occasionally. And Eric Ramsey…she had a hunch she’d be seeing him again. Nothing social, nothing even very friendly. But there was something about saving a life together that pulled people closer, at least for a little while. Besides, Eric might be here when she came to check on little Bryce. So why beat him over the head with all her baggage for what would amount to a few casual moments here and there? “People don’t know when to observe boundaries. They step over the line, assume they have rights where they really have none, and the next thing you know…” They’re cheating on you, or walking out of your life. “Thank you, Eric.”
“Thank you, Dinah.” He spoke the words, but even in the dim light his eyes said more. So much more it startled her.
“I…um…I’m glad we were able to work together.” His intense stare on her was unsettling. It was making her nervous. Causing her hands to shake. Yet she couldn’t look away. Wanted to, but could not. “And I’m even more glad that things are going to work out for Bryce and Gabby.” The conversation was turning just plain awkward now. There was nothing more to say except goodbye. Yet she didn’t want to. Not yet. “Anyway…I, um…I guess this is goodbye. I need to get back to Angela, and um…” Was it hot in here? Because she was suddenly burning up. “I’m sure we’ll see each other again while I’m in White Elk. So…” She needed a fan, her cheeks were blazing so furiously. “So, I’ll see you around.”
“See you around, Dinah Corday.” He winked.
Eric’s voice so sexy she went weak in the knees. Maybe she was tired. Everything was catching up to her and a few hours’ sleep would take care of whatever this was coming over her. Yes, that had to be it. She was tired. Her body was giving out on her. “Around,” she repeated, not making the slightest move to leave.
Suddenly, Eric was around on her side of the crib, and before she realized what was going on…or maybe she did realize what was going on and didn’t want to do anything about it, she was in his arms. Locked into a kiss. Deep, urgent. Lips pressed so hard she could scarcely find breath. Her arms snaked up around his neck like they’d done it a thousand times before, and her body willed itself into a tight press to his, until she could almost feel corded muscles, almost find her way deep inside him. But as suddenly as the kiss had started, it stopped. His awareness…her awareness…What they were doing shoved them apart with such a force that it was like a physical punch, one that knocked her back.
Of all the crazy, stupid things to do! How could she have?
And how could her knees still be wobbly from the force of one simple kiss?
Except it hadn’t been simple. Nothing about that kiss had been simple, and she was reeling to find an explanation. What had caused it? Had it been about two people caught up in the moment, two people who’d waged the battle together and won? A kiss of celebration?
Yes, that made sense. A kiss of celebration. That sounded feasible, or feasible enough. Plus, she was tired. Exhausted.
Except it was a kiss that shook her to the very core. One that made her knees wobble so hard she had to grab hold of the crib rails. “I…I didn’t mean for that to happen,” she stammered. “I’ve been accused of overreacting