The Baby Doctor's Bride. Jessica Matthews
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I just want to be left alone,” he ground out. “Is that too difficult a concept for you to grasp, Dr. Harris?”
Although the red highlights in her hair came courtesy of her hairdresser, Ivy’s temper rose to match. “You don’t have a concept. You have an excuse. How can you ignore children who need a doctor?”
“They have you, and you seem capable enough.”
“What about your Hippocratic Oath and the joy of healing those who seek your help?”
“I can’t help you, Dr. Harris,” he said flatly.
“You won’t,” she corrected.
“I have my reasons.”
“Which are?”
“None of your business, Dr. Harris.”
“Perhaps you don’t understand the dynamics of rural communities. Everyone helps each other. Think on that the next time you go to town and expect someone to serve you at the diner, sack and carry your groceries, or change the oil in your car.”
“For the record, I’m immune to threats.”
“A threat would be if I said no one would serve you,” she said through gritted teeth. “I’m merely pointing out that the people in this area share their skills and talents. We don’t hoard or use them only when it’s convenient.” Her voice shook with frustration. “You don’t have any children, do you, Dr. Locke?”
His eyes turned dark and his expression cold. “No.”
“I didn’t think so, because if you did, I wonder how you’d feel if you had a sick son or daughter and the doctor who could treat him refused because his vacation was more important.”
He didn’t answer.
Unable to spend another minute in his presence, she headed for the exit. “Enjoy your rest and relaxation, Doctor. I hope you’ll be very happy spending time in your ivory tower.”
She stormed out, carefully and quietly closing the screen door when it was tempting to do the opposite. It was equally tempting to rev her engine and scatter the gravel as she peeled out of the driveway, but she refused to act in such a petty manner. Ethan Locke might think of her as a country hick, but she possessed more class than that. With any luck she wouldn’t run into the man for the rest of his so-called vacation, however long it lasted. Considering how she spent nearly all of her time at the clinic, the ten-bed hospital, or her father’s diner, the odds of never seeing him again lay solidly in her favor.
Twenty minutes later she parked in her spot behind the Danton clinic’s employee entrance and gratefully entered the air-conditioned wing which had been earmarked for pediatrics.
Heather Fox, Ivy’s office nurse and inseparable childhood friend, poked her head out of an exam room as Ivy walked past. “How did it go?”
Ivy detoured into the cubicle and sank into a chair. “Not well. He turned me down. Flatly and unequivocally. I shouldn’t be surprised or disappointed. It was a long shot.”
Long shot or not, she’d carried high hopes… To add insult to injury, it wasn’t fair for a man with his good looks to be such a selfish grump! What an insult to pediatricians everywhere!
“Hmm. I would have thought a retired gent would have been happy to hop back into the saddle and supplement his income for a few weeks.”
“He’s not retired,” Ivy said. “I don’t know how Lew got that impression, but Ethan Locke hasn’t hit forty. To quote him, he’s on ‘an extended and well-deserved vacation’.”
“He’s under forty and can take an extended holiday? Wow! Makes you wonder what his rates as a pediatrician are.”
Remembering how he’d related to Ivy’s lack of finances, she wondered that herself. If he’d earned his millions by charging his patients exorbitant fees, it was a good thing he’d turned her down. Neither she nor the families in the area could afford his services. “No kidding.”
Heather frowned, clearly puzzling out the situation. “So why did he say no? Even if he’s wealthy, I’d think he’d be willing to volunteer.”
“‘Let me count the ways’,” Ivy quoted as she began ticking off his reasons on her fingers. “He’s on vacation. He’s not interested. He wants to be left alone.”
“Did you explain he wouldn’t have any evening or weekend duty?”
“I did, but he still wasn’t interested.” Ivy pinched the bridge of her nose. “Nothing I said made a difference.” She met her friend’s gaze, disappointed by her failure. “I’m sorry, Heather. I know you’d like to leave at a decent time every evening to spend time with your family, and now—”
“Hey, don’t apologize. You did everything you could.” She sighed. “This hasn’t been the best welcome home for you, either, Ivy. Instead of a quiet summer with Dr. Griffith, getting to know the routine, you got tossed in over your head from the very beginning.”
Ivy shrugged, although she smiled. “Don’t worry about me. Murphy’s Law and medicine seem to go hand in hand. We’ll do the best we can and hope it’s enough.”
Like all other doctors, she’d learned how to function without sleep, and how to survive on a few winks grabbed here and there, but as an intern and as a resident at Children’s Mercy, there had always been medical people around to catch any blatant errors she might make. Here, she didn’t have a safety net.
Ethan Locke was the nearest candidate, and he wasn’t interested. Still, no point in crying over circumstances that couldn’t be changed.
“I just hate to ask you to work such long days when you have your own pre-schoolers at home,” Ivy continued.
The nurse shrugged. “This situation won’t last forever. My mother loves babysitting, and I doubt if the kids miss Mom all that much when Grandma caters to their every whim.”
“Believe me, when things get back to normal, I’ll insist on you taking time off.”
“I won’t argue over that,” Heather said with a smile. “But if you ask me, you’re the one I’m worried about. When’s the last time you slept?”
Ivy thought back. “I got a few hours last night.” Those had come between two-year-old Erica Weyland’s asthma attack and five-year-old Tabitha Jones’s sprained wrist after she’d fallen out of her new canopy twin bed.
“And when did you eat last?”
Ivy tried to remember. Breakfast seemed like such a long time ago. “I grabbed a cinnamon roll from the hospital cafeteria this morning.”
“Then it’s a good thing your dad sent over a take-out order of his meatloaf special. It’s in the lounge with your name on it.”
Ivy’s mouth watered, but her wristwatch told her it would have to wait. “I’ll eat later.”
“You’ll eat it now,” Heather ordered. “The kids can wait ten more minutes to see you, especially if it means their doctor won’t collapse from hunger. So go, put up your feet for a few minutes, and don’t come back until you’ve cleaned your plate.”
Ivy didn’t argue. “Yes, Mother,” she said, grateful that her father, once again, had come to her rescue.
At least there were some good men in this world, she thought uncharitably as a mental picture of Ethan Locke appeared. It probably was a good thing he’d turned her down, because he might be handsome and he might be talented, but he clearly didn’t have a heart.
Ethan slumped onto the sofa and stared at the blank television screen, wishing the bottle in his hand held something more bracing than water.
When he’d first laid eyes on his surprise guest, he’d been dazzled. The easy way she moved, the