Heart Like Mine (27 page)

Megan gushed again, obviously noticing the effect as well. “Isn't it great? I'm going to make sure all of the board members get a copy.”

The flush reached his ears and engulfed his cheeks.

Delaney nodded. “That's a great idea. They work so hard—it'd be good for them to see all of their efforts paying off with this amazing publicity. Right, Kevin?”

“Sure. Right. Yes.” He shook his head. “How did this reporter find out about all this stuff? All of these programs and everything?”

Delaney shrugged again. “She asked.”

“Who did she interview?”

“Nurses, doctors, patients—the whole gamut, looks like.” Delaney worked to keep the triumphant tone out of her voice as she watched him seethe, but try not to show it. She could practically see the wheels turning inside his head, wondering how Delaney had grabbed the department destined to get the best PR. He had no idea how hard she'd worked for that PR, however. Nor would he find out, if it was up to her.

“Wonder why she focused so hard on pediatrics?” He shoved a hand through his hair, actually interrupting the gel job. Delaney smiled. He
never
messed with the hair.

“Two things, I imagine. Our pediatric programming is excellent, and she was looking for a human-interest angle. With this story, she got both.”

Megan smiled. “And cute kids, to boot.”

“Well, this is—this is great.” He tried to manufacture a smile, but it hardly reached his mouth, let alone the rest of his face.

“Isn't it, though?” Delaney smiled back. “Did you see the story the other night on Channel Five?”

“No. What was it about?”

“Same, actually. Seems pediatrics has captured the interest of the local press—and now even the Boston press. The tie-in to Avery's House is almost irresistible.”

“Why now? Why all the sudden attention?” His voice was definitely suspicious, and Delaney figured she'd better pull back and come up with a quick cover story.

“I don't know.” She shrugged. “You know the media—never can tell.”

“Huh.”

He stood there for a long moment, and if he wasn't such a jerk, Delaney might have worked up a smidgeon of sympathy for the guy. Was he wondering how this publicity would play into the board's budget decisions? How it would affect his own proposals?

Megan tipped her head graciously. “You can have that copy if you'd like. I have plenty more.”

He looked at it like it might bite, then folded it and shoved it under his arm. “So how's your budget proposal coming, Delaney?”

“Just fine, thanks.” Delaney put on her brightest smile. “And yours?”

“Excellent.” His fake smile was tight. “Despite the fact that nobody gifted me with departments I could put on the news.”

“With all due respect, I'm not sure I would call pediatrics a gift. Cutting funding to kids is pretty much the worst straw either of us could have drawn.”

“So you're going for the sympathy vote, then? Is that your strategy?”

Delaney sat back in her chair, taking a deep, silent breath. She needed to tread carefully here. “I'm just doing my job, Kevin. As I'm sure you are.”

He tapped the paper on her door frame. “My departments can't operate on any less than they already are.”

“Neither can mine.”

“I guess it'll be up to the board to decide that, won't it?” Kevin looked at his watch, taking one step out the door. “I'll be out for the afternoon, if anyone needs me.”

Delaney tipped her head. “I honestly find it astounding that you can take this much time off in the middle of this budget crisis.”

He raised his chin defiantly. “You have your methods, I have mine.”

*   *   *

“Millie, do you know if Delaney's been down here this morning?” Joshua found her in the break room an hour later, pouring a cup of coffee.

“She's in with Charlotte. Those two have been giggling for an hour now. If I didn't know better, I'd think maybe that woman belongs with kids, not upstairs crunching numbers. She's got a gentle touch—kids like Charlotte and Ian respond to her.” Millie rolled her eyes as she poured creamer into her cup. “And you
know
I don't say things like that lightly. You
also
know I wasn't planning to like her one little bit.”

He smiled. “She's growing on you?”

“I'm not the only one she's—
growing
on.”

“I know. Charlotte's under her spell, too.”

Millie raised her eyebrows. “We're hardly talking about Charlotte.”

Josh shook his head, moving to the coffeepot. He had a feeling he was about to get an earful, and despite the fact that he couldn't get Delaney out of his head for more than five minutes straight, he didn't want to talk about it with his head nurse. Late last night, when he'd finally rolled home from the hospital and realized it was too late to even call her, let alone try to see her, he'd sat alone in his living room, frustrated and more depressed than he'd ever want to admit.

There was no question that he and Delaney had chemistry. No question that the two of them together would be like fireworks. But the fear and defeat he'd seen in her eyes last night had just about killed him. He couldn't play games with her—couldn't make promises he couldn't keep.

But hell, it'd sure be easier to stick to that if he didn't want her so damn badly.

“Don't go playing matchmaker, Millie.”

“Are you about to tell me you don't have time for a relationship?”

“I don't. You know my schedule. It wouldn't be fair to pretend I have any extra hours in my life.” As he said it, his chest squeezed a little. But it was true, right? “Neither Delaney nor I have time to do any more than hang out casually once in a while.”

“Then make time.”

He paused, throwing her a sidelong glance. “Millie, how many hours do you work?”

“Too many,” she grumbled. “And you work even more than me. That's exactly my point.”

He shook his head again. “
What's
exactly your point?”

“My
point
is that if you keep waiting around for timing to be perfect, you're going to be a lonely old man before you know it.”

“Oh.” He laughed, but it wasn't convincing. “Is that all?”

“Not funny, doc. I'm serious. Your current life plan—correct me if I'm wrong—is to work yourself to the bone here at Mercy until Doc Sullivan or Doc McIntosh retires, or until there's a sudden influx of children in Echo Lake. And then you'll finally have your own practice, right?”

“Right.” He smiled at the thought of regular hours, maybe two employees, lots of adorable families with even more adorable kids.

She sat down. “Have you actually thought about what it'd be
like
to be a single-doc practice?”

“Yes. All the time.” He sipped his coffee, wincing as it burned his tongue. “Why?”

“I'm just thinking.” She motioned for him to sit down at the creaky table with her. “Let's look at a day in the life, shall we?”

“Okay.” He sat down, humoring her. “Let's.”

“So it's July. We've got, say, three sports physicals, maybe four or five infant slots, and maybe a swimmer's ear or a sprained wrist, right?”

“Sure.”

“Times, say, five, right? Because in order to make an actual living, you'll have to get your time slots down to about five to ten minutes per patient?”

“No. No way.”

“Have you
done
this math?”

He rolled his eyes, but didn't answer.

“Okay, now.” She raised her eyebrows. “Let's move on to February. Still a few physicals, some infants, some hockey and gymnastics injuries. But dum-dum-
dum
. Then the flu hits.”

“I'll have a stellar nurse who will field the calls and give fantastic advice.”

Millie nodded, eyebrows still up. “You ever been a mother to a feverish toddler at two o'clock in the morning?”

“I'll also have an answering service.”

“Who will call
you
at two o'clock in the morning. And three o'clock. And four. And five. For
weeks
on end.”

Josh sighed. “Why are you going all doomsday on me here?”

“Because. I might have mentioned the part about your candle burning at two ends already here. And I hate to be the one to give you the cold shower of reality, but getting out of Mercy and starting your own practice isn't going to give you more hours in the day—not if you go it alone.”

Millie put her hand on his. “And keeping your heart all locked up because you think no woman can possibly understand the twenty-four-hour requirement of doctor duty isn't going to hold water forever. No woman
should
have to put up with that—because there's a balance, and you need to find it.”

“It's not that simple, Millie.”

“I know it isn't. I
also
know you carry a three-hundred-pound weight around your neck every day, trying to make your parents proud.” She stopped, forcing his eyes to hers. “Honey, I knew your mom, and the only thing she
ever
wanted was for you to be happy. Doctor, dentist, farmer—she didn't care.”

“I
am
happy. I'm doing what I love.”

“I know you are, but at some point, you need to let yourself fall in love again—the sweet, messy, amazing kind that sends you to work all distracted and asking for a weekend off.
That's
what you need.”

He shook his head. “Can I get the sweet and amazing without the messy?”

“You can try.” She hugged him. “Just open your eyes, Joshua … and maybe your heart.”

“Oh, and another thing.” Millie reached into her bag and came out with a moose key chain. “Got a cancellation on our cabin this morning. It's all cleaned and ready for guests—who aren't coming—and I think you should go stay there for the weekend.”

“Millie, if I didn't know better, I'd think you're afraid I'm heading for a nervous breakdown or something. First the candle comments, and now you're handing me the keys to your cabin?”

She shook her head. “You're nowhere close to a breakdown. However, I've taken the liberty of getting you coverage for the next two days, and I have a sneaking suspicion there's a woman on this floor who might just say yes to a weekend in a little cabin beside the lake. You could—you know—ask.”

He smiled, reaching out to hug her.

“You're impossible.”

“I know it. Just part of my charm.” She put the keys in his hand. “I don't want to see these until Sunday afternoon. And as of tonight at six o'clock, I don't want to see
you
, either.”

 

Chapter 24

An hour later, Josh stepped out of the elevator after checking on Ian, who was in a solitary room on the fourth floor, under twenty-four-hour surveillance. He was improving already, and Josh couldn't wait to tell Delaney the good news.

He stopped in the middle of the hallway.

When had she become the first person he wanted to share a piece of good news with?

Then he heard her voice, and her unmistakable laugh, coming from the playroom. He headed down the hallway, more anxious to see her than he was willing to admit. When he got there, he paused at the doorway, surveying the scene.

Annabeth, the anorexic who Millie'd reported was starting to make some strides with her therapist, was sitting at the card table with her bony knees pulled up to her chest. He winced at how her collarbone still protruded under her T-shirt, but the disease had had her in its grip for two long years. It was going to take time to get her back to a healthy baseline.

“Gin!” Annabeth laid her cards on the table. “Read 'em and weep.”

Josh watched as Delaney laid her cards down as well, grinning. “Oh, there will be no weeping.”

Annabeth pointed at Delaney's hand. “You have two aces, two kings, and two queens. You should
definitely
be crying. That's seventy points you just lost.”

Delaney gathered the cards to shuffle. “No problem. I can totally come back from this. I'm not sure I like how you score this game, by the way.”

Annabeth looked at the notepad beside her elbow, grinning. “Omigod, you're three hundred points down.”

“This is why I don't like how you score this game. But you know what? There's still time for me to pull off an epic win.”

Annabeth laughed, startling Josh. That was a sound he hadn't heard from Annabeth since she'd been here.

Then she seemed to realize she'd done so, and backed off, crossing her arms as Delaney dealt. “Don't you have somewhere to be? Things to do?”

Delaney looked down at her cards, idly sorting them. “Yep.”

“So … why are you hanging out with me?”

“Because you're way more fun than the other stuff I'm supposed to be doing. Do you have any idea how long it's been since I've creamed somebody at gin rummy?”

Annabeth uncrossed her arms, smiling. “You're
not
creaming somebody. I'm totally winning.”

“For now, girlie. For now.” Delaney pointed at the deck of cards. “You're up. Shuffle. And there's no way you're winning this time.”

Josh smiled as he backed up and turned toward his office. Ian's news could wait. Delaney was doing important work right now.

She just didn't know it.

“What's funny?” Millie came bustling out of a patient room, rubbing sanitizer between her fingers. “You catch the gin rummy tournament down there?”

“Yup.”

“You gonna tell Delaney she missed her calling, one of these days?”

“Nah.” He shook his head as he ducked into his office. “I think she's figuring that out for herself right now.”