Книга - The Doctor’s Secret Baby

The Doctor's Secret Baby
Teresa Southwick


Emily Summers would never forget the passionate affair with Cal Westen that left her yearning for what he couldn't give her.But the charismatic, commitment-wary E.R. surgeon had given her something. And it was time he knew the truth–so he could be the father their child needed…. Two years ago, Emily walked away from him. Now she was telling him they had a baby?The sensual social worker had burned him once, and Cal wasn't about to make that mistake again. Then he met his daughter. And the no-strings-attached doctor began to feel his heart expand…to make room for two females in his life….









It was obvious that her attraction hadn’t ended with their relationship, which meant stopping it altogether would be about as easy as reversing the effects of global warming.


Emily had tried to forget him, but never quite managed to pull that off. Maybe because he’d fathered her baby.

The fact was they were both responsible for this child and he was determined to be a father, so she needed to find a path to peaceful coexistence. But moving in with him, relying on him, leaning on him—that was a path she wouldn’t go down.

Cal smiled at Annie, who looked more curious than wary. “Is that a truce?”

“I think a cease-fire is an excellent idea,” Em agreed.

She hoped she wouldn’t regret those words. It would be so easy to fall in love with him….




Dear Reader,

When asked to participate in Special Edition’s FAMOUS FAMILIES project, I was truly honored. It was fun to bring back characters from the MEN OF MERCY MEDICAL series, and it started me thinking about the meaning of family.

I’m one of six children, and my only sister passed away from melanoma, making my brothers and me appreciate each other even more. It’s the family I was born into, but losing my sister makes me treasure my female friends, who are the sisters of my heart. People at the office or in the neighborhood become an extension of home. In hospitals, the personnel work as a unit to save lives.

The editorial staff at Silhouette Books have come to mean so much to me, as have the readers with whom I share a love of romance. It’s a connection that makes us family and we rock.

I sincerely hope you enjoy Cal and Emily’s story as they fall in love and make a family with their little girl.

All the best,

Teresa Southwick




The Doctor’s Secret Baby

Teresa Southwick











www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)




TERESA SOUTHWICK


lives with her husband in Las Vegas, the city that reinvents itself every day. An avid fan of romance novels, she is delighted to be living out her dream of writing for Silhouette Books.


To Gail Chasan and Charles Griemsman,

my Silhouette Special Edition family. You make it a joy

to work at what I love best, writing romance.




Contents


Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen




Chapter One


Telling an old boyfriend he had a daughter he didn’t know about was a crappy way to start the day.

And the emergency room at Mercy Medical Center where he was working was a crappy place to tell him, but Emily Summers knew for sure she could find him there. Dr. Cal Westen was a pediatric emergency specialist and would be on duty shortly. He always stopped in the E.R. break room for a cup of coffee about thirty minutes before the start of his shift. At least he used to. She didn’t know squat about his routine since they’d split up more than a year ago.

Emily opened the door and her heart skipped and skidded when she saw him. Some things didn’t change, including her profound physical reaction to this charismatic, charming doctor.

“Hi,” she said, lifting a hand in greeting.

His grin when he saw her was instantaneous. “Emily Summers, as I live and breathe.”

“Guilty.” In so many ways, she thought. She moved farther into the room, just beside the rectangular, metal-framed folding table in the center of the room. It was littered with the daily newspaper. The flat-screen TV was tuned to a news channel with the ticker scrolling across the bottom. “How are you, Cal?”

“Good.”

He looked good. But then he always had—tall, tan, muscular. The man even made his shapeless blue scrubs look as sexy as sin. Her past had a history of attraction to tall, dark and handsome guys, but two years ago Cal had made her rethink that. His sandy hair was short and gel-rumpled in a calculated Hollywood-heartthrob way, but had probably cost him about thirty seconds. A deep dimple softened his square jaw.

“It’s good to see you.” Dark blue eyes twinkled with genuine pleasure, but after she told him what she had to say, he’d rethink that. He straightened away from the counter and set his paper cup on the table still separating them. “Can I buy you a cup of coffee?”

“No, thanks.” She was already jittery enough. And what with the adrenaline surging through her, caffeine might just implode her heart. Maybe the E.R. was the right place to deliver her news after all.

“How long has it been?” he asked.

Because she’d been four weeks into her first trimester the last time she’d seen him and her life since then had passed in a blur of pregnancy and baby months, she knew exactly how long ago it was since she’d last seen him. “Just shy of two years.”

“Seems like yesterday,” he said, shaking his head.

For her, it hardly seemed like that, because her life had been altered so profoundly in their time apart. From the first moment the infant had moved inside her, she’d felt a love bigger than anything she’d ever felt before. And when she’d held her baby for the first time, she knew that giving up her life to protect her child wouldn’t be too big a sacrifice.

Her little girl was the only reason she’d come here today because seeing Cal again was the last thing she wanted to do. She’d broken things off after he broke her heart.

He looked her over from head to toe and smiled. “Your hair is shorter.”

“I cut it. Easier this way,” she said, touching a hand to her short, shiny bob. A typical guy, he’d always liked her brown hair long.

“Looks good. Really good.” There was approval in his eyes. “Have you lost weight?”

“Always the charmer,” she said. During her first trimester, morning sickness had taken a toll and the rest of the pregnancy had been only marginally better. Life since giving birth had kept her busy and she hadn’t regained the twelve pounds lost from her five-feet-two-inch height. The denim capris she had on were several sizes smaller than anything he’d seen her in—or out of. “I might have dropped a little weight.”

“Seriously, there’s something different.”

She’d had a baby—his baby—but didn’t want to blurt that out. Although why she should be concerned about his feelings when he’d decimated hers was a mystery. “I’m still the same.”

Studying her, he folded his arms over his chest, drawing her attention to the broad contour of muscle. It seemed like yesterday that she’d run her hands over the coarse dusting of hair that she remembered being darker than what grew on his head, more reddish brown. The memory made her heart kick up again like it had so many times before when they’d been together.

He moved around the table and stopped in front of her, close enough to feel the heat from his body. “You look great, Em. What’s your secret?”

“Oh, you know…” She shrugged.

“I never heard where you went when you left Mercy Medical Center.”

Did that mean he’d tried to find out? Just when she’d thought her heart was under control, it stuttered again, a completely involuntary reaction because there was no way she’d react like this to him of her own free will. She never wanted to hurt again the way he’d made her hurt.

“I went to Sunrise Medical Center.”

“Still a social worker?” he asked.

“Yes. And a few other things.”

He nodded. “Whatever you’re doing certainly agrees with you.”

Being a mom? It was something she’d wanted since her very first pregnancy, and having the baby she’d been too young to have. Giving that child to another mother to care for had left an empty place inside her that had been impossible to fill.

“How’ve you been, Cal?” she asked, still procrastinating.

“Great.”

Was there a little too much enthusiasm in his tone? Or was it wishful thinking that he was working at convincing her he’d been fine since they split?

“How’ve you been, Em?”

It was a segue, and she might as well go with it. She couldn’t put this off any longer. “Funny you should ask…”

“What?” he asked, frowning.

When he reached out and touched her, his big hand felt too good, too warm, too safe. Static filled her head as electricity arced through her body. She stepped back and blew out a long breath.

“I have a lump in my breast,” she said.

Concern turned to worry in his expression. All at once he wasn’t her ex, but a doctor. “There’s no reason to assume the worst. Have you seen someone?”

“I have an appointment, but—”

“Lindquist is a breast specialist. I know him pretty well. I’ll give him a call and get you in right away—”

“No.”

“Em, you can’t put it off.”

“You said there’s no reason to assume the worst.” Even though that’s exactly what she’d done and why she was here in the first place.

“And I stand by that. But why worry any longer than necessary?”

“I’m taking care of that. And it’s not really what I wanted to talk to you about.”

“There’s more?” Now he looked confused and concerned and she couldn’t blame him.

“Finding the lump made me think long and hard about my own mortality,” she said.

“You’re young. There’s no reason to borrow trouble.”

She didn’t have to borrow it. Trouble had a way of finding her. “I’m not concerned about myself.” She took a deep breath and forced herself not to look away. “It’s my baby.”

“Baby? I didn’t know—” He stopped as the dots started to connect.

“Our baby. She’s eleven months old.”

“She? A girl?”

Em nodded. “Her name is Ann Marie. Annie.”

“Ann is my mother’s middle name,” he said, as if he couldn’t think of anything else to say.

“Marie is my mother’s middle name. It seemed fair.” Even if it would never feel right after the choice her mother had forced on her.

He ran his fingers through his hair. “What the hell are you saying?”

The calm before the storm was over. “I’m telling you that you have a little girl.”

“If I believed you—”

“If?” Now it was her turn to be shocked. The thought that he would question the facts had never occurred to her. At least not consciously. But somewhere deep inside she’d probably suspected. Otherwise she’d have called him instead of meeting face-to-face so that he could see she was telling the truth. Annie’s future depended on it.

“Why should I believe you, Em? You were the one who walked away. And before you did, you never said a word about being pregnant.”

“You never gave me a chance.”

“It’s my fault?” He held up his fingers. “Two words. I’m pregnant. That’s all you had to say.”

“It wasn’t that easy.” Not after that horrible time when she was little more than a child herself.

“For the sake of argument, I have to ask—why are you telling me now?”

“Because of the lump,” she said, twisting her fingers together. “If something happened to me Annie would have no one. I couldn’t stand that.”

“So this is about you?”

“No, it’s about our daughter.”

His gaze narrowed as suspicion swirled in his eyes. “Why should I believe you after all this time? What are you after, Em? What do you want from me?”

Emily hadn’t believed it was possible to hurt more than she had the night she’d tried to tell Cal Westen about his baby, but she was wrong. His second rejection was twice as painful because of Annie. How could he reject that sweet baby girl? The innocent child who was depending on Em to take care of her. That’s all she was trying to do in spite of what Cal thought.

“I was wrong not to tell you right away,” she admitted.

“You think?” Sarcasm rippled between them.

“I’m hoping you won’t punish your daughter for my mistake.”

“There’s no reason I should believe she’s my daughter. I always used protection when we were together. It’s not something I take for granted.”

“Me, either,” she said. That long-ago mistake made her pretty cautious. “I don’t know what to tell you except I guess the condom broke.”

At that moment Rhonda Levin walked in. Emily had seen the E.R. nurse manager from time to time when she worked here at Mercy Medical. The plump, brown-eyed, bleached blonde looked at each of them, narrowed her eyes, then settled her gaze on Cal.

“You’re on, Doc. Paramedics are bringing in car accident victims. One of them is an eleven-month-old with head trauma. Whatever is going on here will have to wait. ETA, three minutes.” Rhonda gave them a pointed look before walking out.

The baby coming in couldn’t be in better hands, Emily thought. If it were her daughter there’s no one she’d trust more than Cal. But he was looking at her now as if he didn’t trust her as far as he could throw her.

“The condom broke? Come on, you can do better than that.” Apparently he planned to use his three minutes to grill her.

“Did you read the directions? It’s not guaranteed one hundred percent,” she said.

“The percentage of security is in the high nineties,” he shot back. “Again I have to ask why I should believe you’re not trying to pass her off as mine.”

Emily had pictured this scene in her mind and not once had it included the part where he doubted Annie was his child. Now she knew how naive that was, because he was within his rights to question it. But tell that to the anger building up inside her.

She glared at him. “If you can ask me that, it’s clear you never knew me at all. I’d never lie to you, Cal. Especially about something like this.”

It felt like déjà vu all over again when she turned and walked out on him, but this time her heart was breaking for Annie, too.



Two days after Emily Summers had turned his life upside down, Cal sat in a booth at Coco’s coffee shop on Eastern Avenue near the 215 Beltway and wondered whether she’d show up. If she’d changed her cell phone number he wouldn’t have been able to contact her at all. She no longer lived at the address where—too many times to count—he’d picked her up for dinner and brought her back to make love to her. When she walked out on him, he’d missed her.

When she walked out on him again yesterday, he’d gone to work on that eleven-month-old. Fortunately the head trauma was superficial and the few stitches would eventually be covered by her hair and she’d probably have no memory of the ordeal. But he wasn’t lucky enough to forget Emily’s words: Our baby. She’s eleven months old. He’d never known her to lie, and she’d looked sincerely surprised and angry that he hadn’t believed her.

He took a sip of coffee and glanced at his watch for the umpteenth time. Eight-fifteen and almost dark outside. She’d picked the place—neutral territory—because she’d refused to give out her address. That implied a lack of trust, which was pretty ironic when you thought about it. She was passing her kid off as his and he couldn’t be trusted?

Still, if there weren’t doubts in his mind, he wouldn’t have set up this meeting.

He looked up and saw Emily walking toward him. After all these months and this stunt she was trying to pull off, how could one look at that face tie him in knots? Her mouth was made to be kissed. Those full lips had turned him on more times than he could count and thoughts of running his hands through her dark, shiny hair had fueled more dreams than he wanted to admit.

She stopped by the table. “Cal.”

“Have a seat.” He indicated the booth bench across from him.

She was wearing a thin-strapped yellow tank and white capris. Her flip-flops matched her shirt and gave him an unobstructed view of her coral-painted toes. Sexiest feet in Vegas, he thought, again feeling stupid for the gut-level turn-on that he couldn’t control. Apparently he hadn’t outgrown his fatal flaw. Attraction to a deceitful woman had cost him big time and here he was again.

“So what did you want to talk about?” she asked. “You made your feelings pretty clear. As far as I’m concerned, there’s nothing left to say.”

“Maybe you don’t think so, but I wasn’t finished when you walked out the other day.” He forced himself to relax his grip on the coffee mug in front of him. “Would you like something?”

“Just to get this over with.” Her big brown eyes were defensive and still as beautiful as ever.

“Okay, then.” He met her gaze and asked the question that had been gnawing at him since she’d left the E.R. “If she’s my child—”

“Your daughter’s name is Annie.”

Without acknowledging that, he continued, “Why didn’t you tell me I was going to be a father?”

She let out a breath and her gaze wandered out the window, to the congestion of cars on Eastern, waiting to turn left onto the Beltway. It was cool inside, but he knew on the street it was still more than a hundred degrees. This was Vegas and it was July. Hot was a way of life. But hot didn’t do justice to how he felt.

“Do you remember the last time we were together?” she asked, sliding into the place across from him.

“Yeah.” Of course he did. “One minute everything was fine, the next you said we were done. A guy doesn’t tend to forget something like that.”

One corner of her mouth curved up, but not from amusement. “A guy like you doesn’t forget because you’re always the one who ends things. It was different with me and that bothered you.”

The fact she was right didn’t help. He liked women, and they returned the favor. He did end things before anyone got serious. So sue him. But with Em he hadn’t been ready for things to be over.

“It came out of left field.” That’s all he’d admit.

Her eyes looked big and brown. Innocent and hurt. “Were you there for the last conversation we had?”

Maybe. “Refresh my memory.”

“I know how you feel about commitment.”

“We never talked about it,” he protested.

Her expression was heavy on the scorn. “Every woman at Mercy Medical Center and probably the Las Vegas metropolitan area knows you don’t make promises.”

“Being a doctor is a demanding profession.”

“I’m not talking about dinner and a show on Saturday night. Your aversion to responsibility, liability, obligation or dedication on a long-term basis is legendary. You’re as shallow as a cookie sheet.”

“That’s harsh.”

“But true. I knew that when we first went out. I was fine with it. I didn’t want anything permanent, either. It worked as well for me as it did for you. Maybe more.”

“So what was this conversation we had?”

“All I said was—wouldn’t you like to have children someday? You’re a pediatrician, and it’s not a stretch to assume that you might want to have one of your own.”

“Okay.” He vaguely remembered.

“Do you recall your response?”

“Not in detail.”

“I do.” Shadows made her eyes darken even more. “You did five minutes straight on what wasn’t going to happen. And I quote, ‘Nothing could compel me to ever tie myself down in any way. If you want to get on the commitment train, I’ll see you off at the station.’ You told me you never wanted strings. In a fairly firm and deep voice you added, ‘There’s no set of circumstances known to man that could make me change my mind.’”

Ouch. Yeah, he remembered now. The speech should be familiar since he’d given it so many times. “Okay.”

Frowning, she tipped her head, studying him as if he was an alien from another world. “I was trying to gently bring up the fact that I was pregnant. Your stay-single-or-perish soliloquy didn’t exactly make it feel safe to do that.”

“It’s not about comfort. It’s about what was right. Maybe I was a jerk—”

“Maybe?”

He ignored that. “Any time after that you could have called, dropped me a line, left a message on the answering machine. Something to the effect—‘Cal, I’m going to have a baby. Thought you should know. Catch you later.’”

It wouldn’t be the first time a woman tried to manipulate him by lobbing the pregnancy bomb. One that turned out to be a lie, the first of many before it had finally ended.

Emily looked small and tense in the big booth across from him. He couldn’t see her hands, they were in her lap. He remembered that when she was nervous, she twisted her fingers together. Peeking under the table to see if that had changed wasn’t happening.

“In your world—a man’s world—that would be the way. But not in mine. You made it clear how you felt and there was no way I was going to burden my baby with a father who didn’t want her.”

Sounded pretty cold when she said it like that. “You didn’t give me a chance to react with all the facts. If I’d known you were pregnant, we could have talked about it—”

“You talked. I listened and got the message. So shoot me for not wanting to hear any more.”

“Until now,” he reminded her, his gaze sliding to her breasts.

“Yeah.” She shifted her shoulders as if to relieve the tension and keep from shattering. “When I found the lump, it forced me to go to the bad place and think about what would become of Annie without me.” She met his gaze. “Her biological father—commitment-phobe and all—is the lesser of two evils.”

“Careful, flattery like that will turn my head.” The words oozed sarcasm because her low opinion of him rankled.

He was a stand-up guy; he saved lives every day. Some women actually called him a hero. Emily wasn’t one of them. The lesser of two evils is still evil.

“Look, Cal—” She settled her hands on the table, twisting her fingers together in that all-too-familiar way. “What you and I think of each other is irrelevant. Annie’s future and her welfare are the only things that matter.”

“Have you seen the specialist?” he asked, pushing away any reference to a child he still couldn’t believe was his.

“Not yet. My appointment is next week. With my primary care physician. A majority of sites on the Internet that I checked said that’s the place to start. I’m seeing Rebecca Hamilton. She delivered Annie.”

He hated to admit it, but that was the other reason he’d called. In spite of what she’d done—what she was trying to do—the thought of Emily being sick bothered him. But what if she was lying about the lump?

“What is it you want from me, Em?”

“I don’t want anything.”

He gripped his half full mug of cold coffee. “How do I know the baby is mine?”

“I’m more than willing to do a DNA test if that will put your mind to rest.”

He didn’t think there was a test in existence that would do that, not since seeing her again. “That would probably be a good idea. I’ll set it up.”

“Okay, then.” She nodded.

“Okay.”

If she was trying to pull a fast one, she wouldn’t agree so easily to the test. That silenced some but not all of his doubts because being made a fool of wasn’t high on his list of things to ever do again.

He’d been a teenager the last time a female had worked him over. She’d said she was pregnant and he’d believed her, married her. Months went by and she didn’t show, although she jumped his bones at every opportunity. When he found out there was no baby, he knew she’d been trying to get pregnant. Her lie was exposed but he also believed her when she said she’d done it for them, so they could be together. He’d also taken it seriously when he vowed to stay together for better or worse. And worse was what he got. After that she got more creative with manipulation while their marriage died a slow and painful death. When that chapter of his life was over, he’d erased the word commitment from his vocabulary.

Ever since, he’d been careful about protection during sex. Because it bordered on obsession, the thought of a child had never occurred to him. That still didn’t absolve Emily of fault here. She’d had a duty, an obligation, to tell him that she was going to have a baby. Too much time had passed for him to believe the child was his. She was just another woman trying to make him dance to her tune.

“So we’ll wait and see what the test says,” he told her.

“I have no doubt that it will confirm what I’m telling you. And I’m sorry I waited so long to do that. But I need to know she’ll have her father to take care of her. If the need arises. I’m not asking for myself, but for Annie.”

“So we have a plan.”

“We do.” She slid out of the booth. “Let me know when and where to take her for the test.”

He stood and looked down at her. “Okay.”

She nodded and turned away, walking between the row of booths and the swivel seats at the counter. His gaze dropped to the unconsciously sexy sway of her hips. Something tightened inside him, an ache he hadn’t even been aware was there.

“Em?”

She stopped and looked back at him. “What?”

And he said something that hadn’t consciously crossed his mind. “I want to see your daughter.”




Chapter Two


Emily paced the living room of her ground-floor apartment waiting for Cal. Could have knocked her over with a feather when he’d called for a meeting. As angry as he was, she hadn’t expected a father/daughter face-to-face until the DNA was done, so his asking to see Annie had really surprised her.

She heard an enraged wail coming from the hall and hurried to find Annie crawling—at least trying to—out of her bedroom. The little girl was in a sleeveless, white, full-skirted, lacy dress, which obviously felt like parent torture. Her knees kept getting caught up in the hem, which minimized forward progress and maximized frustration. Judging by the decibel level of the cry, her frilly frock was getting on the only nerve she had left.

Em picked up the dynamic bundle of energy. Her golden curls framed a round face with huge blue eyes and healthy, rosy cheeks.

“Hey, baby girl. I’m sorry about the dress. It’s not your style, but your daddy will be here any minute and I know you want to impress him. Put your best foot forward, so to speak. Tough to do when you’re not quite walking, but you get my drift. Dazzle him with your abundant charm, which you get from him, by the way.”

“Unh,” Annie responded, then wiggled and squirmed to be let down.

Emily complied. Carefully, she set the child on her feet, holding on to a chubby hand while Annie promptly plopped on her behind. “Putting your best foot forward needs some work, baby girl.”

When she tried to crawl, her knee got tangled up in the skirt again and there was a screech that could shatter glass or set off all the dogs in the neighborhood.

Grabbing her up, Em said, “Just a little longer, sweetie. After you meet him, I’ll slip you into something more comfortable. It’s almost bedtime and you’re not at your best, but Daddy had to work at the hospital until seven. He’s a doctor, kiddo. A kiddo doctor in the emergency room. That means he only works on kids. You’re gonna love him. And how could he not love you.” Annie rubbed her nose on Em’s shoulder leaving a slick trail of something viscous.

Em sighed at the gooey spot. “Good thing I’m not trying to impress him. You’re the one he’s coming to see.”

She’d lost count of Annie’s wardrobe changes for this auspicious occasion. Meeting your father for the first time was a big deal. Not that Em would know because she’d never laid eyes on her own dad. But surely a lady needed to look her best for something like this.

Em was well aware that she was the reason this meet and greet hadn’t happened sooner and the consequences were hers to live with. But the guilt could just get in line with all the other guilts over the many mistakes she’d made. Unlike some of them, this one could be corrected. Better late than never.

The harsh sound of the bell made Em’s stomach drop as if she were riding the down loop on a roller coaster. The good news was that it got Annie’s attention and she stopped grunting and twisting to escape. “Here we go, sweet pea.”

She carried the baby to the peephole and peeked through to establish a positive visitor ID, although Cal was right on time. When she saw him, her midsection knotted and she let out a long, bracing breath before unlocking and opening the door.

“Hi, Cal.”

“Em.”

She’d expected him to be in hospital scrubs, but he’d changed out of work clothes into jeans and a baby-blue shirt with actual buttons, not a T-shirt. The shade brought out the color of his eyes, his daughter’s eyes. Maybe, just maybe, this meet and greet was important to him, too.

“Come in,” she said, stepping back to pull the door wide before shutting it against the glare of the sun descending in the evening sky. “It’s hot out there.”

And in here, she thought, looking up at him. The view gave her no relief from the heat. It had been a while, but her body was still susceptible to him. Once upon a time his charm had snagged her heart, but the present vibe wasn’t particularly charming so she could only assume the man himself got to her. That was too depressing to think about. And this visit wasn’t about her.

Time to make long-overdue introductions.

She glanced at her daughter who was sucking on her index finger and staring uncertainly at the tall stranger. “Cal, this is Annie.”

He studied her intently for a long time. Em wasn’t aware of holding her breath, but let it out when he did the same.

“You didn’t mention that she looks like me,” he said, not taking his eyes from his daughter.

“Would you have believed me?”

“Probably not.” His gaze slid to hers and turned resentful. “My hair was that color when I was little. The eyes are like mine. Even this,” he said, reaching out a finger to gently touch the indentation in the little girl’s chin that was identical to his own.

Annie ducked away and buried her face in Em’s neck. “She’s a little shy.”

He nodded without saying anything and Em wished she could read his mind. Had he been hoping she’d lied? Or did the idea of having a child make him want to puff out his chest and buy a round in the pub?

“Do you want to hold her?” she asked.

“Yeah.” He held out his arms and took Annie from her.

Her only intention was to make up for lost father/daughter time and she wanted it to be perfect. She should have known better. Life had been throwing her curve balls as far back as she could remember. This was no different.

Annie squirmed when he tried to settle her on his forearm. Tiny hands pushed against that wide chest and attempted to twist out of his strong grasp. Then she took one look at his face, started crying hysterically and frantically held out her hands to Em for a rescue.

“She wants you.” His voice could freeze water on a Las Vegas sidewalk in July.

Em took back her baby and felt the little girl relax. Not so the unflappable E.R. doc who looked like someone had hacked his stethoscope in half. “Don’t take it personally, Cal. She just needs to get to know you.”

“And whose fault is it that she doesn’t?”

The cutting remark hit its mark and guilt flooded her yet again. When Em felt cornered, out came the scrappy teenaged kid who’d once survived on the streets. “Look, I already admitted screwing up and apologized for it. I won’t say I’m sorry again. Annie is like this with strangers, and frankly I think it’s a good thing.”

“It’s good that she doesn’t know her own father?” His eyes narrowed on her.

“Not exactly. I just meant that it’s not a bad thing for her to be wary of people she doesn’t know. Until she gets to know them, to separate the wheat from the chaff.”

“Is that supposed to make me feel better?”

“Frankly, I can’t afford to worry about how you feel.” That wasn’t to say she didn’t worry, but it wasn’t the best use of energy. “My priority is Annie.”

“Mine, too, now that I know about her.”

“So you really do believe she’s yours? Do you still want a DNA test?”

“Yeah.” He dragged his fingers through his hair. “Just to be sure.”

“You don’t have a lot of faith in your fellow human beings, do you?”

Before he could respond in the affirmative, the bell rang again. It startled the two adults, but also pulled Annie out of whimper mode.

“Excuse me.” Em peeked out and recognized the young girl. “I have to answer this.”

She opened the door and when Annie saw who was there she smiled and held out her arms.

“Hi, sugar.” The green-eyed, redheaded seventeen-year-old grinned then grabbed Annie and planted kisses on both chubby cheeks, making her laugh. “How’s this little girl?”

“Who wants to know?” Cal asked.

Em knew by the tone he was annoyed and had a pretty good idea why. If she’d been in his shoes it would tick her off that her child went easily to someone else and treated her like a serial killer. But that couldn’t be helped.

“Cal, this is Lucy Gates. Lucy, meet Dr. Cal Westen.”

The teen looked from one to the other, then at the child in her arms. “FOB?”

Cal frowned. “Friends of Bill?”

“Father of baby,” Emily translated.

Nodding, he studied Lucy. “And you are?”

“One of my girls,” Emily said, and knew from his skeptical expression that an explanation would be necessary. “This five-unit building was donated by Ginger Davis of The Nanny Network. With grants and donations, I run a program that mentors and houses teenage mothers. It’s called Helping Hands and assists young women who have nowhere else to go. They help each other raise their babies while getting an education. Children can’t be taken care of if their mothers can’t take care of themselves.”

Cal slid his fingertips into the pockets of his jeans. “You don’t look old enough to have a baby,”

“Doesn’t mean I don’t,” Lucy snapped back. She studied him warily. “My son’s name is Oscar.”

“I see.”

“Right.” The teen made a scoffing noise. “You don’t have a clue. Just like my folks.”

This wasn’t going at all well, Em thought. “Lucy, he’s just—”

“Judging,” she snapped. “Like everyone else.”

“How did your parents judge?” he asked.

Lucy’s expression was a combination of hostility and hurt that she tried desperately to hide. “They threw me out when I got pregnant. Didn’t want anything to do with a grandchild. Doesn’t get more harsh than that.”

“She and Oscar had nowhere to go,” Emily explained.

The girl reminded her of herself all those years ago. When her mother gave her the ultimatum to give up her baby or get out. So, she got out. At first. But after weeks on the street, she knew she loved her child too much to subject it to that kind of life and went home, forced to make a horrible choice. Now she was trying to help young girls who were facing the same choice and give them another option.

But it was time to change the tone of this meeting. “Cal is a pediatrician,” she explained to the teen.

“So you take care of kids?” Lucy asked.

“I handle pediatric emergencies at Mercy Medical Center,” he said.

“So you don’t do well-baby stuff? Shots and all that?”

“You need a regular pediatrician for ‘stuff.’”

“So what good are you?” Lucy asked.

“If your baby has head trauma or a high fever, I’m your guy. Not so much the long-term care.”

Em had never thought about it before, but even his choice of medical specialty highlighted an aversion to commitment. That didn’t matter for her. Not anymore. But she wouldn’t let anyone hurt her daughter. As long as Cal could commit to Annie she had no beef with him.

“Where’s Oscar?” Em asked.

“With Patty.”

“That’s her roommate,” Em explained to him. “The girls share living quarters in the apartment next door and trade off child care while working and taking classes for their GED or college credits.”

“Good for them.” Cal folded his arms over his chest.

Lucy sized him up, then handed Annie back to her. “I heard the dude knock on your door and wanted to make sure everything was okay.”

“Thanks,” Em said, taking a firm hold on the little girl who was holding out her arms again for the teenager. “It’s fine. I appreciate you checking up on us.”

“No problem. It’s what we do,” the teen said, giving Cal a pointed look before opening the door. “Catch you later, Em.”

When they were alone again, his expression was even more hostile. “That was fun.”

“She’s a good kid.”

“The good part I’ll have to take your word on. Kid I could see for myself. My specialty is emergency care from birth to eighteen. She’s young enough to be one of my patients and needs classes in birth control.”

With their baby in her arms, she glared at him. “People who live in glass houses…”

“Okay.” His expression turned wry. “Point taken.”

“You weren’t very nice to Lucy. I never knew you to be deliberately rude.”

“I never had a child who treated me like I had cooties and preferred a stranger,” he defended.

“Lucy isn’t a stranger to Annie.”

“She is to me.”

“That’s childish.”

“But honest,” he snapped.

“Unlike me.”

“You said it, not me.”

A guilty conscience needs no accuser. “Look, Cal, that’s just the way it is. You can take it out on everyone or deal with the situation. Continue to punish me, or get to know your daughter. What’s it going to be?”

“She’s my child. And it’s time she got to know me.”

“Good.”

He settled his hands on lean hips, a gunfighter’s stance. “And you’re going to help me.”

“What does that mean?” she asked warily.

“You’re going to be around while Annie and I get acquainted.”

He was right. She couldn’t just dump the baby on him because it would be too traumatic for them both. Emily realized that she should have seen this coming, but the truth was she hadn’t. When she got the message that he’d never commit, the silver lining was not having to see him and hurt like crazy because he didn’t want her the same way she’d wanted him. Ironically what broke them up was also the same thing that forced them back together.

Annie.

Emily knew what it felt like to be vulnerable and alone. Unlike FOB, she didn’t plan to do that again and figured to pick and choose the people she let close to her. She’d never expected one of those people to be Cal. Again she reminded herself that he wouldn’t be there for her. It was all about his child.

Gosh, wasn’t it going to be fun hanging out with the guy who made breaking hearts an Olympic event?



Sitting in the sporty BMW he’d nicknamed Princess, Cal saw Emily’s practical little compact come around the corner and pull into the apartment building parking area. He was across the street in front of a vacant lot and got out of his car, looking both ways to make sure there was no traffic. Ending up in his own E.R. because of stupidity would be the ultimate in humiliation, and his partners in the emergency trauma practice would show no mercy, even though he had a good excuse for being preoccupied.

As he walked toward Emily, he watched her open the rear passenger door, unbuckle Annie and lift her out. Then she went to the trunk and popped it, pulling out a plastic grocery bag. The closer he got, the more bags he could see. It never occurred to him that two girls could eat so much.

“Hi,” he said.

She whirled around, clutching the child to her chest. “Good Lord, you startled me.”

“I thought you saw me.” He cocked a thumb over his shoulder. “I’m parked across the street.”

“Why?” Her dark eyebrows drew together in a frown. “Are you stalking me?”

He slid his sunglasses to the top of his head. “Do you always go immediately to the bad place?”

“Normally, no,” she said, without conviction. “But what we have here isn’t a normal situation.”

“What we have here probably happens more than you think,” he said.

“Not in my world.” She loosened her hold on Annie who was sucking on her index and middle fingers, staring at him with distrust in every cherubic curve of her face.

“Does your world still include hospital social work?”

“Yes. In addition to running Helping Hands, I freelance at most of the valley’s hospitals. Not having to keep a nine-to-five schedule makes it easier to spend more time with Annie.”

Occasionally a patient in the E.R. needed social services to facilitate health-care programs, hospice care or off-site treatment options. He’d met her after seeing a child with leukemia and no insurance. Em was called in to counsel the parents on available treatment and financial plans to help pay for as much as possible. He’d been anxious to turn that case over to someone else when Emily Summers had walked into the room.

One look at that face—specifically that mouth—and he’d wanted to turn himself over to her. And he had, until she’d walked out on him for no apparent reason. The fact that they were going to be parents had never entered his mind.

“So were you working today?” he casually asked. “And where does Annie stay when you can’t be with her?”

“How long have you been here?”

“Not long this time.”

“This time?” she asked, her eyes narrowing suspiciously.

“I stopped by earlier and talked to Lucy’s roommate, Patty. She was just on her way out to a class and told me when you’d be home.”

“Hmm.” With a couple of grocery bags on one arm and Annie in the other, Em shifted the baby’s weight.

Cal was pleased that she looked like a healthy kid. Yesterday after seeing her he realized there were a million questions he should have asked. How was the birth? Any complications? Who’s her pediatrician? He could get her in with the best one in the valley.

But none of those things had come out of his mouth because he’d been too stunned that Emily told him the truth. This time he’d brought a swab and planned to get a sample for the DNA test. Skepticism had been his new best friend since the woman he’d married had lied about being pregnant so they could be together. Translation—to trap him. His first mistake was not leaving when her lie was exposed because the longer they were together, the bigger the lies got.

Last night he’d pulled out old photo albums and pored over family pictures, studying the ones of himself at Annie’s age. She looked just like him. There was little doubt in his mind that she was his daughter, but because of his past, proof was required.

As he watched Emily struggle with grocery bags and the baby, it finally sank in that she could use some help. His parents hadn’t raised their boys to do nothing while a woman struggled.

“Let me help you,” he said, taking the bags.

“Take Annie.” She thrust the little girl into his arms. “I’ll grab a couple bags and unlock the door.”

Instantly the child started to cry and hold out her chubby arms to her mother. Em was already hurrying to her front door, key in hand.

“Annie’s crying,” he called after her. “Do something.”

“It’s good for her lungs,” she called over her shoulder. “You’re a doctor. You should know that.”

He did know that, when the child in question wasn’t his and crying actual tears. “Okay, kid. Let’s do this.”

He grabbed as many bags as he could carry and not compromise his hold on the little girl in his arms. Fortunately Em’s apartment was right around the corner from the parking lot and he followed her into the open front door. It was cool inside, a welcome relief from the July heat. The kitchen was just off the living room where Emily was half buried in the refrigerator hurriedly putting away cold and frozen food.

“What should I do with her?” he shouted over the pitiful cries that hurt his ears and his heart simultaneously.

She looked at him. “Put her on the floor.”

Didn’t have to tell him twice. He set Annie down on her tush where she continued to sob as if he’d been sticking pins into her.

“I’ll get the rest of the bags,” he said, and went to do that without waiting for permission. He was an E.R. doc and used to taking the initiative.

When he’d grabbed the remaining groceries from the trunk and shut it, he hurried back to the apartment, just as Annie was crawling out the front door. He stepped over her and dropped the bags in the middle of the living room, then raced out the door to scoop her up. The loud wail was irrefutable evidence of her displeasure. As if he needed more proof that she hated his guts.

Squirming and squealing, she continued her protest as he carried her to Em. “You’ve got a runner.”

Em glanced over her shoulder. “Good. You got her. She tries to escape if you don’t shut the door.”

He put Annie on the floor and did a slow burn while Emily finished putting away the groceries. Then she grabbed up the little girl and disappeared down the hall. Cal had no choice but to follow.

He watched Em competently change the wriggling child’s diaper, something he should have known to do, but didn’t because he’d been left out of that particular loop. With the freshly diapered child in her arms, she went back into the kitchen and got a child’s cup with a lid, filled it with water and just a splash of apple juice. He was pretty sure it was called a sippy cup because he’d heard kids in the E.R. calling them that. On the floor surrounded by plastic toys and stuffed animals, Annie grabbed the cup from her mother and chugalugged, evidence that she was thirsty. Or she liked her cup. Or both. He didn’t know which and it ticked him off because he should know. He was her father.

He watched Annie put her head down on a plump stuffed bear as sucking on the juice slowed. She blinked a couple of times before her eyelids drifted closed and her hold on the cup loosened. Her breathing grew slow and even.

“She’s asleep,” he announced.

“I know.” Em was washing apples at the sink.

“How?”

“It’s late afternoon and the heat wears her out.” She glanced past him and smiled tenderly. “But it’s getting close to dinner time so all she gets is a power nap.”

“Why?”

“If I let her sleep too long, there will be no getting her to bed at a decent hour tonight.”

“Of course,” he snapped.

Emily studied him. “What’s bugging you?”

“Besides the fact that whenever I touch her my daughter screams as if I’m an ax murderer?”

“Yeah, besides that.”

“I don’t know anything about her and I’m her FOB.”

“Think about it this way, Cal.” Emily shut off the water, then arranged the apples along with a big bunch of green grapes in a yellow pottery bowl. “Before Annie was born I didn’t know her, either. Now we’ve spent a little time together and I’ve learned about her. I do my best to make sure her needs are met so she trusts me to do that. All it takes is to put the time in. One day. Then another. And another. Until a pattern develops. If you’re up for it.”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” he demanded.

“You’re not a guy who gives patterns a chance to develop.”

Not unhealthy patterns. He’d done that once and it was a disaster. “I’ve never had a kid before,” he said, not bothering to deny her words.

“It takes time to build trust. And I get that’s not easy for you, although I don’t know why.” She held up her hands. “You don’t have to tell me. It’s probably on a need-to-know basis, and I don’t need to know.”

She was right about that. No one needed to know that his ex gave him lesson after lesson on why women couldn’t and shouldn’t be trusted. Em reinforced it by keeping knowledge of his child from him. Patterns? Oh, yeah, bad ones. It’s why he didn’t do commitment.

“Yeah, you don’t need to know,” he agreed. “And you’re right about spending time with her to build trust. How are we going to work that out?”

“I’m not sure yet. But we will.”

Looking around the apartment, he assessed his daughter’s environment. He recognized the light green corner group from Em’s other place and the cherrywood coffee table in front of it. There was a TV on a stand in the corner that was also familiar. Three wrought-iron barstools with beige seats lined up at the counter separating the kitchen and living room. They were new because her old place hadn’t had a bar. If he walked in her bedroom, would the floral comforter be there? More than once he’d swept it to the floor in his hurry to have her.

His body tightened and he remembered that, too, the intensity of his need for her. It was different from the way he’d wanted any other woman. And he still felt it, which didn’t make him at all happy.

“Do you need money?” he asked.

“No.” The indignation in her expression was easy to read.

“I don’t mean to offend you, but I have nine months of pregnancy, the birth and eleven months of Annie’s life that I owe you for.”

“You don’t owe me anything,” she said, anger flashing briefly in her eyes “Money isn’t why I told you about her. I just wanted you to know she exists. In case anything happens to me.”

The lump in her breast. He’d forgotten that what with the mess of finding out he was a father. She’d said she had an appointment.

“I’ll go with you to see the doctor.” If she was lying about it this would call her bluff.

“I can handle it.”

“I’m not saying you can’t.” He ran his fingers through his hair. “Just that you might need some help with Annie.”

“That’s not a problem,” she protested. “I’m used to taking her with me.”

“No offense, but she’s got a pretty good set of lungs. That could make actually hearing what the doc has to say difficult.”

“I can leave her with Lucy—”

“No.” Anger knotted in his gut. “Annie is my daughter. I can stay in the waiting room with her. Just a short-term assignment.”

“Are you sure?” Em caught the corner of her bottom lip between her teeth.

“Absolutely.” And he absolutely couldn’t look away from those small, straight white teeth sinking into the soft flesh of her mouth. It made him think about the rest of her flesh—the parts underneath her clothes. That made him want to get her naked, which was a very big problem.

“Okay, then,” she agreed. “You can come with me.”

“Good. It will go a long way toward establishing trust.”

With his daughter, not with Emily. She’d burned him once and wouldn’t get another chance. After doing the deceit dance with his ex-wife, he knew that second chances were a slow slide to the dark side. Lori always had an ulterior motive for the suicide attempts that never succeeded. It kept him with her, at least until the next time he got fed up and threatened to leave when she’d try again and wind up in the E.R. to make a dramatic statement. Then, without warning, she’d left him first. Where was the win in that?

And Emily had done the same thing. But now she was back. That just meant this was a new challenge, that there was something she wanted more than getting him together with his daughter.

All he had to do was find out what that something was and beat her at her own game.




Chapter Three


As she walked through the medical building’s courtyard, Emily carried Annie. Cal was beside them, hefting the diaper bag. Part of her couldn’t help thinking of him as her knight in shining armor. The street-smart side knew there was no such thing.

He’d offered her money, for Pete’s sake. Like he thought she wanted something besides security for their daughter if the breast lump turned out to be cancer. Playing the money card was like waving the red penalty flag saying he didn’t trust her. As if she needed more proof, he’d swabbed Annie’s mouth for the DNA sample. He’d looked like he felt bad about making her cry, but their little girl, just like her mother, showed no signs of forgiving or forgetting and wanted nothing to do with him today.

Her appointment was for nine o’clock and they were ten minutes early. The shady courtyard was cool this time of day, relatively speaking since it was July. Desert landscaping dominated the center with rocks and plants in shades of purple, yellow, orange and pink.

Emily stopped and pointed to the last door on the right. “Here’s the office.”

“Okay.”

“There’s no guarantee that I’ll be taken in right on time.”

“I’m a doctor. I get it,” Cal said wryly.

“You work in the E.R. Rebecca Hamilton is a busy ob-gyn. That’s like comparing apples and kumquats.” She shifted Annie in her arms. “There’s a fifty-fifty chance that we’re going to have to wait. Her appointments always get juggled because of deliveries. Babies have a complete disregard for schedules and office hours. They arrive on their own time regardless of who it inconveniences.”

“What time was Annie born?” he asked quietly. Black-framed sunglasses hid his eyes and their expression, which was probably just as well.

Em rubbed a hand down her daughter’s back. “A respectable seven o’clock in the morning.”

“Good for her.” He started to walk past her. “Okay. I get it. We’ll probably have to wait.”

“Hold it. You might want some helpful hints.”

“Such as?”

“All indications are that Annie’s going to have some serious misgivings when I give her to you. Your assignment, if you choose to accept it, is to keep her safe and as happy as possible.” She tightened her hold on the little girl in her arms. “If she tries to get down, put her down. Let her do what she wants as long as she doesn’t bother anyone or hurt herself. Try to distract her with a toy. I packed her favorites, a sippy cup and crackers. Don’t worry about the mess in the waiting room.”

“Mess?”

“You’ll find out.”

He nodded. “Got it.”

“Can you change a diaper?”

“Did you pack a schematic?”

“Very funny.” She couldn’t help smiling. His sense of humor was the first thing that attracted her. Now was no exception. “A simple yes or no will suffice.”

“I think I can figure it out.”

“If nothing makes her happy and she won’t stop crying, remove her from the waiting room. She loves being outside and hopefully that will distract her. If not, go to the reception desk and Grace will come to the exam room and get me.”

“Grace?”

“Martinson. She’s the doctor’s receptionist, office manager and all around assistant.”

“Got it.” He shifted the strap of the diaper bag more securely on his broad shoulder.

Emily knew for a fact that the thing was heavy yet he didn’t seem to feel the weight. But Annie’s bulk was starting to make her back hurt. If only she could pass the child to Cal, but that would start a meltdown, not a smart move until it was absolutely necessary.

“Okay.” She took a deep breath and started down the cement pathway toward the office. “Let’s do this.”

“This” was the last thing she wanted to do, but the lump hadn’t gone away. Inside, the waiting room was air-conditioned and there was only one woman waiting, meaning either the doctor was on time or there’d been a delivery and earlier patients rescheduled. Either way it was a good thing for them.

Emily signed the patient sheet with her name and arrival time, then found a bench seat by the back office door. She settled Annie on her lap and Cal sat beside her.

The older woman in the chair next to them smiled. “Your little girl is adorable.”

Although she didn’t feel like small talk, Em could never ignore an Annie compliment. “Thank you. I think so, too.”

“She looks just like her daddy,” the woman said.

Cal nodded. “I think so, too.”

“How old is she?”

He looked at Em who answered, “Almost a year.”

The woman nodded. “You make a lovely family.”

If they were giving off a family vibe, it was Academy Award–caliber performances. This was the first outing for the three of them, and not for happy reasons. Fortunately no response was required because the door opened and Grace Martinson stood there. Emily had gotten to know her pretty well during her prenatal visits.

The green-eyed redhead in blue scrubs smiled. “Hi, Em. I’ll take you back in a minute. Mrs. Wilson?”

The older woman stood and followed her into the back office. Em’s stomach did the nervous dance with a healthy dose of fear driving it. All her research said that 80 percent of breast lumps turned out to be benign, but what if she was in the 20 percent range? She squeezed Annie to her until the little girl squirmed in protest. What would happen to this child if something happened to her? Her own mother wouldn’t win any awards, but at least she’d been around. Sort of.

She glanced at Cal who’d slid his sunglasses to the top of his head and looked ultra-cool and devastatingly handsome. He’d have to take care of their child on his own. In a few minutes he was going to get a crash course demonstrating exactly what that meant. Before she could give him last-minute pointers, the door opened again and Grace was there.

“You’re up, Emily.”

“Okay.” She stood with Annie in her arms and kissed her daughter’s cheek. Then she looked at Cal. “You’re up, too.”

He nodded and held out his arms. She handed the baby over and steeled herself for the cry of protest that came instantly.

“I’ll get her back as quick as I can,” Grace said to him, then shut the door.

Em followed her to the first exam room where she was directed to disrobe from the waist up and put on a cloth gown. Left alone, she did as instructed, all the while hoping her baby’s cries would diminish and stop, but no such luck. She heard the front door open and close. He was following orders and taking Annie outside, which meant juice and favorite crackers had no effect on her daughter’s aversion to the complete stranger who was her father.

Em felt like the worst mother on the planet, and the slime at the bottom of a toxic pond. This was all her fault. It wouldn’t be this traumatic if Annie knew Cal and that was something she’d regret to her dying day, which hopefully wouldn’t be too soon.

It made her angry that she was faced with a situation she couldn’t control and had to rely on Cal. Even more, she hated how glad she was that he was there, but none of this was fair to Annie. She had no idea what was going on and was just scared because her mommy had thrust her into the arms of a man she didn’t know from a rock. No wonder she was crying her eyes out. That, at least, was something that could be fixed.

She opened the door to the exam room, held her gown together with one hand at her chest and flagged Grace down in the hallway. “Annie’s really upset.”

“I heard,” Grace said ruefully.

“Can she come in the exam room?”

“It will be hard for the doctor to check you out if she’s clinging to you.”

“As long as she can see me, I think it would calm her down,” Em said.

“Who’s the hunk?” Grace asked.

“Dr. Cal Westen.”

“The pediatric E.R. guy at Mercy Medical? He’s a friend?”

Not so much, Em thought. “You could say that.”

Grace looked puzzled. “What about patient privacy?”

“I want him to know everything. Just in case.”

“Okay.” Grace nodded. “I’ll go get him.”

Em nodded then sat on the exam table, legs dangling over the end. Moments later she heard Annie crying and it got louder just before Cal brought her into the room.

He handed the baby to her. “Sorry.”

That made two of them. “Not your fault,” she said, cuddling the little girl to her. “Can I have her cup?”

He dug the juice out of the diaper bag and Annie grabbed it, relaxing in her arms when she started to suck.

“Do you want me to leave?” he asked.

“No.” She didn’t want to be alone, and Annie didn’t count.

The crying jag had worn her out and a bit of gentle rocking coaxed her into sleep. “Can you take her? It will be fine. Once she goes off, it takes a lot to wake her.”

He nodded and set the diaper bag on the chair, then stood in front of her and held out his arms. True to form, Annie slept through the transfer and Em’s arms were grateful. Moments later the doctor walked in. A brown-eyed blonde, Rebecca Hamilton was in her late twenties, young for a doctor. She’d skipped several grades in school and that had given her a jump on her career and a successful, growing practice.

“Hi, Emily,” she said, settling her wire-rimmed glasses more securely on her freckle-splashed nose. She noticed Cal and the baby. “Sorry. I didn’t know Annie was asleep.”

“This is Cal Westen,” Emily said. “He’s a doctor.”

Rebecca nodded. “I know you by reputation, Doctor, and I mean that in a good way.”

“Same here,” he said.

Rebecca looked at her. “So you brought along moral support?”

Em nodded. “Kind of. He’s Annie’s father.”

“I see.” There was no indication that Rebecca was surprised, but then she’d probably heard it all. “So, let’s get down to business.”

She did the usual listen with the stethoscope and took a pulse and blood pressure. Then she stood between Emily and Cal as she parted the gown and did an exam of the left breast. Frowning, she said, “There it is.”

Em was hoping this had all been her imagination and took a deep breath. “Is it cancer?”

“Don’t go there,” Rebecca advised. “We have absolutely no reason to believe that. More information is required to determine exactly what it is. Could be a cyst, which is no big deal. Or a noncancerous mass such as a fibroadenoma, a benign tumor. Or an intraductal papilloma.”

“Translation?” Em said, pulling the gown closed over her breasts.

“That’s a small, wartlike growth in a milk duct. Since you nursed Annie, that would be my guess. But we need to do some tests.”

“Mammogram?” Cal asked.

Rebecca glanced over her shoulder, then looked back at Em. “Because you’re so young, I’d like to start with an ultrasound. It’s noninvasive, painless and radiation free. It should determine if the lump is a mass or just a harmless, fluid-filled cyst. If that’s the case, testing is over and there’s nothing to fear. Although we might want to aspirate the contents.”

“What if it’s not?” Cal asked.

“Then we get a diagnostic mammogram. It’s a digital, electronic image,” she explained to Em, because he already knew this stuff. “The pictures can be computer manipulated, making them cleaner, clearer and easier to read. We focus on the area of concern, compressing tissue and magnifying images so that we can get a much more detailed look.”

“Will that tell us what it is?” Em asked.

“We’ll know more about what it isn’t,” Rebecca explained. “If it’s not a cyst, we’ll need a biopsy.”

“Surgery?” Em’s heart started to hammer and she met Cal’s eyes over the doctor’s shoulder.

“No.” Rebecca touched her hand. “An ultrasound-guided core needle biopsy. It’s an in-office procedure to extract a small sampling of cells, which we’ll test. I want to stress that there’s absolutely no reason for you to believe the worst. If you’d like, I can recommend a breast specialist. Or I’d be happy to consult with one and coordinate your care.”

Emily glanced at Cal, still holding a peacefully sleeping Annie. Emotion swelled inside her and pressed against her heart. “What do you think?”

“Dr. Hamilton is right. It’s one step at a time. If you’re comfortable, it’s clear that she’s got the situation under control.”

“Here is good.”

The doctor nodded. “Then for now I’ll coordinate everything. I’m going to have Grace set up an appointment at the breast imaging center at Mercy Medical. That’s step one. And you’re not to worry.”

“Right.”

Rebecca put a reassuring arm around her shoulders and said, “It’s going to be okay.”

When they were alone, Cal let out a breath. He looked like he’d worked a double shift in the E.R. during cold and flu season. “How are you?”

“Probably better than you.”

He glanced at the little girl cradled in his arms. “It’s been a rough morning.”

“There’s the understatement of the century.” She met his gaze. “I want to go home.”

He nodded. “I’ll take her in the waiting room so you can get dressed.”

“Thanks, Cal.”

And she didn’t mean for leaving her alone. He’d hung in there with Annie. And with her. Running interference with the medical stuff. Advice. A sounding board. She could have done it on her own, but she was incredibly glad that hadn’t been necessary. Far too glad.

Too glad meant she had lingering feelings rattling around inside her. When she’d made the decision to tell him about his daughter, she’d been so sure that wasn’t possible. Now she knew she was wrong. Leftover feelings were like embers after a forest fire, which could burst into flame with very little encouragement.

Considering he didn’t trust her as far as he could throw her, that made it a one-way street. Just like the last time and the scars on her heart were a continuing reminder of how that had turned out.



Cal now knew that Emily wasn’t lying, at least not about the lump in her breast. He’d thought about little else since leaving the doctor’s office yesterday and still didn’t know what to think or how to feel. That was the only reason he could come up with for stopping by her apartment without calling.

After parking across the street, he knocked on Em’s door and waited. When there was no answer, he tried again and the door beside hers opened.

Redheaded Lucy Gates stood there and somewhere behind her there was a child crying. “What do you want?”

Great. Miss Congeniality. “I stopped by to see Emily. And Annie.”

“Em’s not home.” Distrust rolled off her in waves.

“I see. Do you have any idea when she’ll be back?”

She glanced over her shoulder and called out, “Patty? Did Em say how long she’ll be?” The answer was muffled and she said, “Soon.”

“Patty. Your roommate.”

“Right.” Her hostile look didn’t change, so it was a good guess that there were no points for remembering that. The child was still making unhappy noises.

“Who’s crying?” he asked.

Lucy’s expression asked why he cared, but she answered, “Henry.”

“Who’s Henry?”

“Patty’s little boy. He’s sick,” she volunteered.

“What’s wrong with him?”

She shrugged. “Probably a cold.”

“Fever?” he asked.

“Yeah. A little bit.”

“Do you want me to take a look at him?” Cal asked.

“I thought you didn’t do that stuff. It’s not an emergency—” She glanced over her shoulder when someone behind her spoke. “You’re a doctor, right? A pediatrician?”

“That’s what my diploma says. Does Henry have a pediatrician?”

“Not a regular one. We take the kids to a clinic.” Again, there was a muffled voice before she opened the door wider. “But maybe it wouldn’t hurt for you to have a look at him.”

Cal nodded and stepped inside on the beige carpet. From what he could see, this apartment was a carbon copy of Emily’s floor plan—living room, small kitchen with dinette and a hall with two bedrooms on each side of it. On one wall sat a re-covered sofa, not a professional job, but still a charming floral print. The coffee table looked like a do-it-yourself dark-stained plywood number, but complemented the rest of the decor. The walls were filled with photos of children and kid-friendly prints. Other than toys scattered around, the place was spotless.

A blond girl about Lucy’s age stepped forward with a whimpering, sniffling, towheaded toddler in her arms. “I’m Patty. And this is Henry.”

“Hi.”

“Lucy said you’re a doctor.”

“That’s right.”

“Since you’re here…Would it be okay for you to take a quick look at him?” she asked, worry widening her big blue eyes. She should be at cheerleader practice and fretting about finals, not sharing an apartment with another teen mother.

“Sure.”

Another baby, Oscar, he remembered, was on a quilt beside the sofa with stuffed animals spread out around him. The little guy looked clean and well fed, what with the chubby arms and legs sticking out of his denim overalls.

Cal walked over and said to the under-the-weather boy in her arms, “Hey, buddy. You’re not feeling so good?”

The kid’s nasal discharge was clear, a positive indicator of no infection. Cal palpated his neck for enlarged lymph nodes or swelling and didn’t find anything abnormal. “He feels warm.”

“I just took his temp,” Patty said. “It’s a hundred.”

Cal nodded. “That’s not too bad. Do you have a flashlight?”

Lucy looked more puzzled than hostile now. “What for?”

“I’d like to look in his throat and I can see what’s going on better with a light.”

“We have one in the kitchen,” Patty said, walking into the room and opening a drawer.

“Set him on the counter for me, and let’s see if we can get him to open wide,” he directed. “How old is he?”

“Eighteen months.”

Patty did as directed and when Cal came close, Henry started to cry, which meant opening his mouth. Attaboy. He aimed the light and saw some mild redness, which was probably a result of postnasal drip. “I don’t have an otoscope—”

“A what?” Lucy asked.

“That’s the thing the doctor at the clinic uses to check their ears,” Patty answered.

“Right,” Cal said. “Has he been pulling at them?”

“No.” Patty held on to Henry’s arm with one hand and smoothed the hair off his forehead with the other. “He had one ear infection when he was six months old and I’ve been watching for that. But he’s just not acting like himself.”

Cal didn’t have a stethoscope on him, either, so he pressed his ear to the boy’s chest and back, listening for any evidence of wheezing or labored breathing but breath sounds were normal.

Patty grabbed the whimpering child when he held out his arms to her. “Is he okay?”

“I think it’s just a cold.”

“That’s what I said,” Lucy reminded him.

“Is there some medicine he should take?” Patty asked, shooting her roommate a stand-down stare.

“A children’s fever reducer will make him more comfortable. At this point an antibiotic won’t help because as far as I can tell it’s nothing more than a virus.” Which Henry had probably already shared with his pint-size roommate. “Is Oscar showing signs of not feeling well?”

“Not yet,” Lucy said. “But I’m watching him. We’re trying to keep the kids separated as much as possible.”

“That would be best. And be sure to wash your hands often.” Cal nodded. “As far as any other medications, they’re not indicated yet. If he takes unnecessary antibiotics, he’ll build up a tolerance and they won’t work when he really needs them.”

“Okay.” Patty nodded. “Is there anything else I should do?”

“Push fluids. Diluted soda. Juice. Popsicles. Water. Make sure his diapers are wet. That means he’s good and hydrated.”

“I’ve been doing that,” Patty told him.

“And if his fever goes up to a hundred and two, bring him to see me in the E.R. at Mercy Medical Center.”

“As if,” Lucy said.

“What?” he asked.

“We can’t afford to go there,” Patty explained, looking apologetic. “No medical insurance. If either of them needs to go to the E.R. I’m not sure what we’d do.”

“Emily will know,” Lucy said. “She always finds a way.”

“I don’t know what we’d do without her,” Patty agreed.

Both girls spoke about Emily Summers as if she had wings, a halo and walked on water. But he knew better. Angels didn’t lie about having a guy’s baby. Just because she’d told the truth about the lump didn’t mean he could forget about the months of his daughter’s life that she’d stolen from him.

There was a knock on the door and Lucy went to answer it. “Hi, Em.”

“Hey. How’s Henry?”

“The doc says it’s probably just a cold,” the teen explained.

“The doc?” Emily took one step inside holding Annie in her arms. “Cal?”

“Hi.” He watched Annie babble something and squirm to get down, but her mom held her tight. That was a good thing since she shouldn’t get too close to Henry.

“What are you doing here?” she asked him.

“I was in the neighborhood,” he hedged.

“Right.” Her tone clearly indicated she didn’t buy that for a second. Without moving any farther inside, she handed a small, white bag to Lucy. “I got the children’s’ Tylenol for you.”

“Thanks.”

“I hope Henry feels better soon,” she said, sending a sympathetic glance in his direction.

“Me, too.” Patty handed him a sippy cup and he started drinking.

“I need to get this little girl home,” Emily said, backing out of the apartment.

Cal followed her, then looked back at the teens. “If you have any questions…”

“Thanks, Doctor,” Patty said. “I really appreciate you looking at him.”

“You’re welcome.”

He followed Emily into her apartment next door. As she bent over to pick up a toy, his attention was drawn to her shapely body. In her sleeveless, white-cotton sundress and matching low-heeled sandals, she looked like an angel. Although there was just enough wickedness in her windblown dark hair to speed up his heart. The wispy silky strands around her face reminded him of all the times he’d run his hands through it while loving her. Something tightened low and deep in his gut, and his hands ached to pull her against him, just like old times. Then he got a good look at the expression on her face.

“What are you doing here?” she asked again. “And we both know this neighborhood isn’t your usual stomping grounds.”

“I stopped by to see Annie.” Mostly.

She set their daughter on the floor. “It would have been nice if you’d called first.”

It would have if he’d actually planned ahead for this. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

As if registering her protest was enough, the indignation seemed to drain out of her. “Thanks for taking a look at Henry.”

“No problem.”

“The girls are barely getting by on welfare, food stamps and small subsidies from a children’s foundation. Without Helping Hands, they’d probably be in a women’s shelter. If they were lucky. The street is the only other option.” A dark look slid into her eyes. “So you can see that private medical insurance isn’t in the budget.”

“They told me.”

“And there’s not enough money to pay for an office visit.”

“Where are the kids’ fathers?” Cal asked.

“Lucy hasn’t seen Oscar’s dad since telling him about the pregnancy. Her parents kicked her out when she broke the news to them.” The disapproval on her face and contempt in her voice said loud and clear what she thought about that. “Henry’s dad, Jonas Blackford, is making minimum wage working for one of the local hotels and he’s taking college classes. An education is the only way to get ahead and make a better life for his son. Financially he does what he can and stops by to see the boy every day. They’re not married, but doing their best to raise Henry together. You have to respect that.”

Did he? When you made a mistake, you tried to do the right thing. That’s the way his parents had raised him. Annie was watching him while she chewed on the yellow plastic key that was hooked to a red, blue and green one. She took it out of her mouth and banged it several times, blinking as if she’d surprised herself. Then she threw them down and crawled over to where he and Em were talking, the first time she’d voluntarily come this close to him. Although from what he’d seen she had no problem with the teens next door. The baby put a hand on her mother’s dress and pulled herself to a standing position while staring up at him.

“So,” he said, “Annie seems pretty comfortable with Lucy.”

“Patty, too. She’s over there all the time. They watch her for me if I have to run to the store, or I get an unexpected call to work and haven’t lined up child care.”

“I could help with that.”

“You have to work, too,” she pointed out. “But I appreciate the offer.”

He smiled at Annie who was blinking up at him and out of the blue, she returned his smile. A big, warm feeling swelled inside him, followed by a free fall into never-ending tenderness. And a sensation of wanting to keep her safe from anything and everything that could hurt her.

“You know Henry’s probably contagious,” he said.

“Poor baby.” She sighed. “Yeah, I know.”

“Annie should keep her distance.”

“Of course. But it’s hard.” She reached a hand down to steady the little girl, then eased her to a sitting position. “She loves those little boys. The three of them are like siblings.”

And like a lot of what was going on lately he wasn’t sure how he felt about that. An instant later words came out of his mouth before he could think them through or stop them.

“You and Annie should move in with me.”




Chapter Four


Emily stared at Cal for several moments. “I must be more tired than I realized. You’ll never guess what I thought you just said.”

“You heard right. It’s a good idea for you and Annie to move into my house.”

Once upon a time she’d have given anything to hear those words, but now they just gave her a bad feeling. “Why?”

“I know what you’re thinking.”

“Which is?” she asked.

He looked down at their daughter, clinging to her skirt. “That this is just because of Annie.”

“That’s not even close,” she told him. “But now that you mention it…”

“It’s a big house.”

She picked Annie up and balanced her on a hip, then went to the kitchen to get her some water. After settling her on the floor with an assortment of toys, she moved closer to Cal and looked up.

“I remember exactly how big your place is. I’ve been there. Maybe you forgot.”

“Hardly.” Heat flashed through his eyes for just a moment, a sign that he hadn’t forgotten the way they’d burned up the sheets. “But you told me once that it’s a pretty big place for one person.”





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