Courting the Doctor's Daughter (18 page)

BOOK: Courting the Doctor's Daughter
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Could that explain why Luke talked about his difficult childhood, about his career, but glossed over years in between? “Maybe that’s it.” But guilt didn’t explain why he stayed.

“I’ll have a talk with him. Make it clear a believer’s forgiven, no matter how troubled his past. When a man can’t accept forgiveness, he usually hasn’t forgiven himself.”

That Luke might struggle with regrets as she did pressed against her heart. She might not want to care about this
man, but she did. “If that’s true, I hope you can help him.” She gave him a kiss on the cheek. “I’ll be at my desk.”

Outside the backroom, she stopped. Frank sat at the table, sipping a cup of coffee and reading a medical journal. “Good morning.”

The young doctor rose, beaming at her like the noonday sun. “Mary, join me for a cup of coffee during this lull.”

She took in his smiling face, his eager posture. Frank was a good man, open, easy on the eyes, and he was clearly interested in her. He was everything any woman would want. So why didn’t she feel a thing when he was near? Perhaps her lack of response was the most compelling reason for giving him a chance. Her attraction to Sam had clouded her judgment and made her rush into a marriage that had gone wrong. Perhaps if she spent more time with Frank…“Thanks, I will.”

He grabbed the pot off the stove and filled a mug and then placed it on the table. He pulled out her chair and sat beside her, always the perfect gentleman. “I missed seeing your smiling face when I came in this morning.”

“I stopped to see my sister-in-law.”

“Oh, yes, Mrs. Graves. I met her at church. A lovely woman.”

“Yes, she’s more like a sister to me.”

“I know the importance of family. I ought to, with four older siblings, all married, and fifteen nieces and nephews.” He chuckled. “I’m a late-in-life baby. Sometimes I think my parents are still recovering from the shock.”

Mary laughed. “I doubt that. I’m sure they’re proud of you.”

He grinned. “The whole bunch is busting buttons at having a doctor in the family. I come from hard-working, God-fearing farm folk. I worked on the farm for several years before deciding to enter medicine.”

If Frank hadn’t gone directly to college, he was probably about her age. Yet somehow he acted years younger, perhaps because he couldn’t pass a mirror without combing his handsome head of hair. Well, he might be vain, but a man could have worse faults.

“That life made me who I am today. I’m not afraid of long hours, of doing without while I build my career.” He smiled at her. “And I love kids.”

Mary’s stomach tightened. Frank spoke like a lawyer building his case. What was behind such eagerness?

He took a sip of coffee, studying her. “Tell me about you.”

“I’m an only child who grew up under this very roof. As you already know, I’m a widow with three sons.”

“And soon to be a doctor.”

Her fingers tightened on the handle of the mug. “I hope I make it.”

“You will. Any woman who can raise three children, work here and stay involved in the community like you do can handle medical school.”

She smiled. “Thank you.”

He tipped an imaginary hat. “Just stating the facts.”

Sipping her coffee, Mary gazed into Frank’s guileless blue eyes. Nothing about him suggested he had anything to conceal.

What a contrast to Luke.

“How about having dinner with me tonight?”

Her breath caught in her throat. Frank moved fast. But she really should give him a chance. Her sons wanted a father. He’d made it clear he loved children and family. Maybe in time, he’d grow on her. “After being away from the boys all day, I don’t like to leave them at night. Would you care to join us for dinner instead?”

“Yes, I would. Very much.”

“I live a stone’s throw from here.” She scribbled her address on a pad of paper, tore it off and handed it to him. “We eat at six.”

He took her hand and squeezed it. “Thank you, Mary. I look forward to it.”

Luke appeared in the doorway. His gaze dropped to their entwined hands. Mary pulled hers away then chided herself for her reaction. If she wished, she could hold the hand of every man in town. “If you gentlemen will excuse me, I’d better get to work.”

 

Luke frowned as Mary dashed by. He’d obviously interrupted a cozy moment between her and Frank. Isn’t that what he wanted? So why did the sight of Sloan holding her hand bang against every nerve? He turned to go.

“May I speak to you a second?” Sloan asked.

Luke nodded, though at the moment he’d prefer conversing with a rattlesnake.

“I feel like I should ask. Is there anything between you and Mary?”

A connection Luke couldn’t admit. A child they both loved. Luke shoved his response past clenched teeth. “No.”

Sloan smiled. “Good. From the scowl on your face, I was afraid you’d staked a claim.”

“Mary’s not a piece of land up for grabs.” Sloan chuckled, like Luke had made a joke, but he’d never been more serious. “You’ve mentioned a desire to be on staff at the best hospital in the country. You should know Mary loves this town. She wants to take over the practice one day, continuing her father’s legacy.”

Sloan’s self-satisfied smile set Luke’s teeth on edge. “A noble goal, but once Mary discovers a whole world’s out there to explore, she may broaden her sights.”

Remembering Mary’s desire to travel, Luke cringed
inwardly. Could she be persuaded to leave? To leave the people she cared about in this town, her father and the legacy she said she wanted to continue?

He hauled in a shaky breath. Perhaps with this dashing fellow she could leave it all behind and never look back.

“I’ll have a chance to discuss it with her tonight. She’s invited me to her house for dinner.”

A muscle worked in Luke’s jaw. He pried open his mouth and said, “If you’re intending to court Mary, I hope you have permanence in mind.”

“Permanence?”

He laid his palms on the table and leaned toward Sloan until they were nose to nose. “Yeah, like a ring on her left hand.”

Frank slid his chair back. “It’s a bit early for that discussion, but I will tell you this much, Doctor, I don’t play games.”

“Glad to hear it.” With that lie fresh on his lips Luke left the room.

The Children’s Aid Society had given him until the end of the month to claim Ben. He couldn’t tear that child out of Mary’s arms nor could he let Ben go. He cared about his son more than he’d ever imagined possible.

Yet he couldn’t stomach the idea of staying and watching Sloan woo Mary.

But to stay, to fight for Mary, he’d have to tell her the truth about Ben. About his past. Once Mary learned he was Ben’s father, and the circumstances surrounding his birth, she’d never forgive him. He’d made his bed.

No one had told him lying in it would be this painful.

Chapter Fifteen
 

I
n his room over the carriage house, Luke dropped onto his bed. Since the minute he’d arrived in this town, he’d lived a lie. Not in so many words but a lie nevertheless.

He’d done it to protect Ben.

How could he disrupt the boy’s life when he had a good mother like Mary and two brothers who plainly adored him? Why rip him from the safe haven he knew? If Luke accepted his paternity, the Children’s Aid Society had made it clear he’d be expected to raise him.

But he couldn’t be a good father. He didn’t even know what a good father was.

If only he knew that Mary could forgive him for his treatment of Lucy, for keeping his fatherhood secret, then perhaps he could stay, could share his feelings for her. Unlikely as it was, if she could find a way to return those feelings, perhaps they could marry and make a real home.

But that meant settling down. He didn’t know how to forge a family.

What example did he have? Years at boarding schools without one shred of interest from his parents, as a small boy trying over and over again to please them, desperate for one smidgen of approval and failing. Recurring night
mares of Joseph, the brother Luke had loved unabashedly, being ripped from his arms. One scene after another paraded through his mind, each incident filled with rejection or pain. His fists knotted at his sides as anger, guilt and loss galloped through him, eating at his wounds.

Look where loving had gotten him.

Worse, if Mary could find it in her heart to forgive and love him, he’d inevitably let her down. The only thing he excelled at was his work. He thrived in the solitary existence of his lab. There he could make amends for his failure to help his brother, for his failure to do right by Lucy.

At some point, what if he got that itch to leave? Or worse, turned out to be like his father? Harsh, disapproving, distant?

But whether he was prepared to be part of a family or not, once Mary knew the truth, she’d never forgive him. His heart panged in his chest. The best thing to do was to leave town, leave Ben in Mary’s care, a safe, comfortable pocket of happiness.

At the prospect of never seeing Mary and the boys, his throat tightened. It might kill him to go, but by leaving he’d be ensuring Ben had a good life.

 

Mary opened the door, welcoming Frank into her home. He swept a black bowler from his head. Dressed in a suit and tie, he made a handsome figure. “Let me take your hat,” she said, pleased he had the good sense and decorum to wear one. She doubted Luke even owned a hat.

Her sons stood apart, watching with uncertain eyes. Frank ambled over to them, talking about the latest Cincinnati Reds game. The boys followed baseball, and their eyes shone with excitement. She left the room to finish preparations for dinner, certain her sons hadn’t realized she’d gone. Obviously Frank’s experience with his nieces
and nephews stood him in good stead with her sons. Normally reticent with strangers, especially men, Michael and Philip took to Frank like fleas to a long-haired dog.

Or perhaps Luke’s coming around had prepared them for Frank.

Too bad he’d ruined her for any other man.

Where had that come from? She didn’t love Luke Jacobs. Barely trusted him, in fact. She’d do well to concentrate on Frank Sloan, exactly what she’d do for the rest of the evening.

Dinner went well. No spilled milk, no squabbles, no whining about the food. When they finished, Mary cleared the table, and the three boys and Frank played dominoes while Mary cleaned up in the kitchen. Frank didn’t offer to help with the dishes but then she hadn’t expected him to. Her father hadn’t done domestic chores and neither had Sam.

Still, a whisper of disappointment ran through her. She couldn’t help but compare Frank to Luke. To compare the entire night to one much like this a week ago. Water up to her wrists, she remembered Luke standing exactly in this spot, doing the same. Her heart twisted for a moment. She wished he was here with her now, with that grin of his and that twinkle in his eye.

Yet Luke held things back, didn’t want permanence. Too much about Luke Jacobs warned her away.

So why couldn’t she put him out of her mind?

 

Luke opened the door to the waiting room, ready to call back the next patient. Normally Mary took care of ushering people into the examining room, but when appointments ran late as they had today, she had to gather Ben and get home before Michael and Philip came in from school. Whenever Mary left the office, he had the weirdest sense of loss. He missed her. Badly.

A woman sat near the outer door holding a baby. According to the schedule, written in Mary’s neat script, that had to be little Quincy Shriver and his mother. Across the way, a man stood in front of the window, his back to the room. The set of his shoulders, the way he held himself all pointed to one man.
Thomas Jacobs.
Everything within Luke froze.

His father turned to face him. “Hello, Luke.”

“What are you doing here?”

“Not a very warm greeting for your flesh and blood.”

The baby hiccupped, and his mother patted the infant’s back, watching the exchange with unabashed interest.

“Dr. Lawrence is in the examining room, Mrs. Shriver,” Luke said. “Why don’t you and Quincy go on back?”

Once they were alone, Luke strode to where his father stood. Thomas’s gaze roamed the room lined with battered Windsor chairs. The bouquet of asters and pictures of the boys on Mary’s desk didn’t disguise the simplicity of Doc’s waiting room. “I can’t understand how you could leave a prosperous practice—” his hand swept the space “—for this.”

“Small-town practice may not be lucrative, but I find the work satisfying.”

His father smirked. “Ah, you’ve always been the family philanthropist.”

“I’ll ask you again. Why are you here?”

“Your mother and I have come to meet our grandson.”

His parents wanted to see Ben? The punch of his father’s words whacked Luke low in his gut, stealing his breath. That his parents had come all this way to see their grandson was so improbable Luke couldn’t have prepared for it in his wildest imaginings. What motive did they have?

“Your mother’s resting at the Becker House,” his father went on. “She found the trip fatiguing.”

For a well-traveled woman, that hardly made sense. Was she leery of facing Luke after all the bitter words between them, afraid of his reaction? Whatever her reasons were for not accompanying his father didn’t matter. What mattered was protecting his son. “Why do you want to see Ben?”

“I’d think that’s obvious. We’re his grandparents. We should be involved in his life.” The uncomfortable expression on his father’s face gave him away. Thomas knew how ludicrous the claim would sound to Luke.

“You didn’t show the least interest when I told you about Ben’s plight and my intention to track him down.”

“Suffice it to say, we’ve had a tweak of conscience.”

All the pain of the past, the images of Joseph, reared up inside of him. Luke scowled. “That’s kind of new for you, isn’t it?”

Thomas didn’t meet Luke’s gaze. “I prefer seeing it as doing our duty.”

Luke saw no reason to expose his son to his parents, people who didn’t know the meaning of love, who’d carted off their younger son because of his imperfections.

His heart stuttered in his chest. If his parents saw Ben, they’d reveal Luke’s identity and ruin Ben’s life. He had to convince them to leave. “What if I told you Ben had epilepsy? How would you react to your grandson then?”

Dark, wounded eyes lifted to Luke’s. “I’m very sorry to hear that, but that’s all the more reason for us to help. We have the resources—”

“What? To put him in an institution? To do to my son what you did to Joseph?”

His father reached for Luke, but he stood too far away and grasped only air. “No!”

“Keep your voice down.” Luke glanced toward the examining room. “I don’t believe you.”

Thomas waved toward the window. “How can you keep him in this podunk town, when in New York, he can have every advantage?”

Hot waves of fury rushed through Luke’s veins. “The people Ben loves are here. I won’t move him.”

Thomas scowled. “As a doctor I’d think you’d want your son to receive the best care for his disease.”

Luke sighed. “Ben doesn’t have epilepsy.”

His father’s face crumpled. “So that statement was a test? Do you think so little of me?”

Luke didn’t answer. Anything he said would only add fuel to the fire. “I won’t let you see Ben.” He walked to the window, gazing out at the street. “No one knows Ben’s my son, and I insist on keeping it that way.”

“You’ve been in this town for weeks and haven’t claimed the boy?”

Luke whirled to face his father. “I won’t uproot him like…”

They stared at one another for what felt like forever.

“Like we uprooted Joseph? Isn’t that what you mean?” His father pointed a finger at Luke. “Aren’t you the hypocrite? You hammer at us for sending Joseph away. Perhaps
you
need to take a long, hard look at what you’re doing—denying your own child.”

“By not claiming him, I’m saving him.”

“That’s not how I see it.” His father’s eyes glinted like flint. “I’ll give you twenty-four hours to bring Ben to us. If you don’t, in a town this size, it shouldn’t be difficult to track him down.” With that threat, his father strode out the door.

Luke’s thoughts flitted to an image of Mary hugging the child close. A staggering weight the size of Texas dropped onto his shoulders. He hadn’t spent much time talking to God since he’d arrived in town. If only God was listening.

Lord, I’ve made a mess of things. I’ve kept my identity
secret, thinking it was best for everyone, but now, I see my actions are a sin of omission that could ruin Ben’s life.

He had to tell Mary the truth before she got wind of it.

God, help her understand.

That would take a miracle.

 

Luke took in Mary’s rosy cheeks, her green eyes brimming with joy, as she talked about her plan for medical school. This woman, beautiful inside and out, was a rare creature.

He turned to the window, watching the boys cavort in the backyard like puppies, happy and full of life. A normal family lived in this house. A family he’d never had but wanted with a desperation that left him shaken.

Mary saw Ben as a throwaway child, a child like herself. She’d never understand how he could turn his back on his unborn baby. What he must say would destroy the fragile threads of connection between him and Mary. If so, he deserved it, but his son didn’t.

Please, God, don’t let this harm Ben or Mary’s boys.

Luke’s eyes stung. His best intentions—all meant to ensure Ben was well cared for—had led his parents to Ben. He’d ruined everything.

“I told the boys about medical school.”

“How did they react?”

“Michael and Philip thought it was funny that I’ll be going to school like they do. None of the boys exhibited the least bit of concern.” She smiled. “I’ve talked to Carrie Foley. She’ll watch Ben while I go to classes, but come January, she won’t be available on Wednesdays. I feel sure the Willowbys will love having Ben one day a week. It’s all going to work out.”

“I’m glad.”

“You’ll be happy to know I even said no to a request to—” She stopped and shot him an odd look. “What’s wrong?”

Apprehension knotted at his throat, skittered down his spine. Would he be able to get the words out? He swallowed hard, fighting for composure, and then took Mary’s hand in both of his, meeting her perplexed gaze. “I know you’re expecting to receive Ben’s guardianship papers.” He shoved out the words. “They aren’t going to arrive.”

“What are you saying?”

He knew no other way to explain it but to tell her the hard truth. “I’m Ben’s biological father.”

The room stilled as if all the life had been sucked from it. Luke took a step closer, but Mary stumbled away from him.

“What?” Her face paled, oddly devoid of expression. “
You’re
Ben’s father? How is that possible?” She swayed on her feet. He reached for her, but she slapped at his hand, fending him off. “We’ve worked side by side, I’ve had you in my home, we’ve shared our thoughts and you’ve kept such a secret from me.
I trusted you
,” she said, her voice rising. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I wanted to protect Ben.” He hadn’t just been protecting Ben. He’d wanted to keep Mary’s good opinion, but by waiting, by living this lie, he’d ensured she’d never forgive him.

“Don’t you mean, protect your secrets? Isn’t that what’s happened since you came to town, Luke? You’ve kept one secret after another.” She shoved out a hand. “You’ve lied to me!”

“Can’t you see? Once I saw how happy Ben was, what a good mother you are, how much he loved Michael and Philip, I couldn’t tell you. Couldn’t risk ruining what Ben has here.” He reached for her hand. “You of all people should understand why. He’s happy, Mary. I couldn’t tear him from that.”

Her eyes misted. “If that’s true, why are you telling me now?”

He sucked in a breath. “My parents are in town. They’re insisting on seeing Ben.”

“See him?” She lurched to the sofa and sank into it as if her legs gave way. “Or take him?” Tears filled her eyes. “If they’re determined, with their money, you can’t stop them.”

“I won’t let that happen. I promise.”

“Why should I believe you?” she asked. Behind her the fire hissed, as if deriding him too.

He knew, before Mary opened her mouth, what question was coming. The one he hoped not to answer. The one that would reveal him to be a man without a heart, without the guts to do the job God had given him.

“After what you went through, how could you abandon your own child in an orphanage?”

The words hung in the air, caught in the ticking clock, the heavy silence between them. Luke examined his heart, searched his mind for an answer Mary would understand, but came up empty. What words could he offer to a woman who’d been abandoned as an infant that would ever justify his sin?

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