Newborn Needs a Dad / His Motherless Little Twins (2 page)

Gabby stopped for a moment, and thought about picking a few of the flowers for her cabin, but decided to leave them as they were, a tiny bit of inspiration fighting against the elements. “You know we’re going to be fine,” she said to her unborn baby. “It’s just a little tough right now. I wanted you to know about him and I’m sorry I didn’t find him sooner. But we’ll work it out, just you and me, and I promise that if there’s any information available about him…” Information, but no father.

It wasn’t like she was afraid of raising a baby as a single mother, because she wasn’t. In fact, from the instant she’d discovered she was pregnant, she’d been shocked, excited, scared, in awe after a lifetime being told, and believing, it wouldn’t ever happen to her, that she could not get pregnant. She’d been injured in a riding accident years ago. Too much scar tissue, the doctors had said soon after. Too little hope. When she’d been fifteen, that hadn’t really had much of an impact on her. When she’d turned thirty, it had. But she’d lived with it, accepted it.

Then, after all those years of believing, as the patient, and even as a doctor, that nothing could happen, she’d had the recurring feeling that maybe, just maybe she might be pregnant. Missed period one month and she’d convinced herself it was stress, that her job was demanding. Missed period the second month and she’d gone to the local
pharmacy for a home pregnancy kit, then had sat it on the bathroom countertop and stared at it for three days before she’d opened it. After that she’d waited another two days before she’d actually gotten around to using it. Then, when that test strip had gone from pink to blue, she’d run, not walked, but
run
to the corner pharmacy, bought another kit, done another test. Then gone back to that same pharmacy one more time, one more kit.

A kindly pharmacist who’d seen her grabbing yet another test kit off the shelf had suggested she go see an obstetrician, and offered to make a referral if she needed one. But she was an obstetrician, and a very pregnant one, she was coming to realize. Also a very overwhelmed one. “Right now, your only problem is that your mother’s very tired. But I’m on my way to fix that situation immediately.”

Bryce Evans. Her miracle baby. She couldn’t wait for his arrival into the world. Nothing other than that really mattered. And she was so happy…

“Thanks for making a house call. We’re not busy right now, but with David out of town, it’s like I’m doing the work of a dozen different people and there aren’t enough hours in the day to get everything done that needs to be.”

Dr Neil Ranard handed the bottle of pink bubble-gum-tasting liquid over to Laura. They called it bubble-gum tasting, and he’d successfully convinced a number of his young patients that was the case, but to him it tasted like…medicine. Nasty, nasty medicine. “Just give her the dose listed on the label and she’ll be fine. There’s a sore throat bug going around the elementary school and Emily is one of the many. Also I’ll want to check her again in a couple of days, but she’ll be ready to come to the clinic by then.” Yes, he still made house calls. In a small town, that was possible, and he really liked getting back to
personal medicine. Two years away had taught him so many things, but the biggest lesson learnt was that everything he needed was here. He was a small-town doctor, and that’s exactly what he wanted to be.

“Can you stay for dinner, Neil? I have only a handful of paying guests checked in right now, and I’m making enough food for an army. Can’t get out of the habit of cooking for a lodge full of people when the season shuts down, I guess.”

“Wish I could, but I really should get back. With Walt Graham retired now, and Eric Ramsey being tied up with the twins—they’re both down with sore throats—we’re a little short-handed in emergency. And I’ve still got a few appointments to take care of at the clinic before I go make hospital rounds. But thanks. I appreciate the offer.” At the White Elk Hospital and Clinic, he was the pediatrician, but family practice was also his responsibility, as well as covering Emergency when it was necessary, and doing the occasional mountain rescue. It was a varied job, and in such a small setting every doctor was called on to do pretty much whatever they had to. Medical convention aside, he loved it. Where else would he be so fortunate as to be involved in so many things?

“Can’t you wait five minutes, while I get something together to send back with you? It’s better than what you’ll get at the hospital, and you know hospital food is what you’ll end up eating.” She grinned. “Think about it, Neil. Institutional cooking versus home cooking.”

Home cooking, a luxury he hadn’t even had those months he’d been married. It sounded good, actually.
Anything
resembling a normal life sounded good. Otherwise, for him it
would
be whatever the hospital cafeteria special was. “OK, you’ve convinced me. Mind if I go sit in the dining room and pour myself a cup of coffee while I wait?”

Laura dismissed Neil with the wave of an unconcerned hand, and he ambled into the empty dining room, went straight to the service bar and poured his coffee, then took a seat by the window that gave him the best view of the Three Sisters. Magnificent view, and one he had so little time to admire these days. It was also the view that had drawn him back home, even when he’d vowed, almost three years ago, not to return. But he’d returned, in part because he liked skiing when he had the time. And the fresh air. Most of all, he liked the nice people. All that, and the exciting nature of his medical practice. Here, in White Elk, he had it all. Or most of it. Because the memories of his short-lived marriage were here, too. As were the memories of the day his wife had run off with his brother.

But the good outweighed the bad. That’s what he kept telling himself and maybe someday he’d even convince himself of it, because some of the memories were bitter. And forever unresolved.

Neil stretched out his long legs and leaned back in the wooden chair, trying to empty his mind of everything. Movement at the opposite end of the dining room caught his attention, though…attention in the form of one very pretty, very pregnant woman who was sizing up the various tables, obviously looking for one with the best view.

He studied her for a moment. She looked almost lonely, ambling from table to table the way she was, all by herself. And here he was, occupying the one with the view he knew she had to be looking for. Immediately, Neil sprang to his feet, and even thought to motion her in his direction, like he was the maître d’. But as he plucked his coffee mug up off the table and stepped away from it, she found her seat on the opposite end of the room, in a spot overlooking the town—all the shops, and the people bustling up and down the sidewalks.

Funny, he thought, how people had different ideas of what was perfect. Personally, his idea of perfect went to something wild, something without people. Hers went to just the opposite, it seemed.

“Your dinner, Neil,” Laura said, setting the brown paper bag full of plastic containers in front of him. “There should be enough to get you through the next couple of days, and if there’s not, come back. There’s always more where that came from.”

“Appreciate the home cooking,” he replied absently, unable to take his stare off the woman, who was now seated with her back to him.

Laura, noticing his intent stare, smiled. “She checked in several hours ago,” she whispered. “Not from around here. She registered her home address as Chicago and I don’t know a thing about her other than that.” She paused, then chuckled. “Except the obvious.”

“And that she looks lonely,” he commented out loud, although he’d meant the remark to stay in his head.

“You know, she did look a little lonely, come to think of it. I thought she was mostly tired, though.” Laura shrugged it off as she scurried over to the other table to take Gabby’s dinner order, while Neil stayed there, sipping his coffee, watching a while longer than he really should have, given his schedule.

Strangers came to town all the time. In fact, the town’s economy was built on people coming here to stay for a while, whether to ski, or shop, or simply have a nice holiday. He barely even noticed them unless they had a medical problem. So what was it about this woman that caught his attention…not only caught it, but held it?

Nothing, he said to himself. Absolutely nothing at all. Right now, he didn’t get involved. Not with anyone. He was married to his work, and he owned a part interest in
a hospital. That was enough to keep him out of trouble, keep him fairly contented, keep him reasonably happy. Life was good. Why try for anything else?

Thinking about what had happened the last time he’d tried for something different was what propelled him back to his feet, and carried him right out the door. When he got to the entrance, though, Neil stopped and turned back to look at her, and that’s when he saw her face. She was…beautiful. Stunning. Honey-blond hair falling gracefully to her shoulders, her blue eyes cast downward. Almost shyly…eyes that could only have been blue. And perfect lips. He was observing her as a physician, of course. Only as a physician.

She was what that pregnant glow was all about. He wasn’t sure he’d ever truly seen it before, but now that he’d seen her, he knew what it looked like.

In that brief moment when his eyes were still fixed on her, she glanced up at him, stared outright for a long moment, then looked away. That’s when Neil knew he’d better leave before good judgment was overcome with something he didn’t understand, and he intruded where he clearly wasn’t wanted. But once outside on the walkway, he looked back up to the window where she sat, and…was she staring at him? It seemed she might have been.

Handsome face. Rugged. Nice firm jaw, nice straight nose. With his wavy black hair, she imagined dark brown eyes. Or green. No…they had to be dark brown.

It was a face that should have been familiar, but nothing in her memory could place him. His eyes haunted her, though. So familiar. But she didn’t often forget a man so handsome. Yet in that span of mere seconds, when their gazes had crossed, it had been like she’d been looking into eyes she’d looked into before. The same, yet not.

Just pregnancy hormones kicking in. Still, at first glance, he’d seemed so familiar. Then, at second glance, he didn’t at all. His was one of those faces that would plague her for a while, though, until she placed him, or forgot him.

“Who was that?” she asked Laura, as Laura placed the handwritten menu on the table in front of her. Potato, vegetable and salad choices were the same with every meal, and she had her choice of meat, poultry or fish.

“Neil Ranard. He owns the family practice clinic at the hospital. And, actually, he’s part owner of the hospital. Specializes in pediatrics, but all the docs there do a little bit of everything.”

Would she have known him from some medical event—a seminar they’d both attended, perhaps? Or maybe a medical convention?

In theory, that sounded good, except she rarely ever had time for seminars, and as for medical conventions…She’d been to exactly one, and it hadn’t been the White Elk doctor she’d fixed herself on there. So that left…Honestly, she didn’t know. And she didn’t want to keep thinking about it. “I think I’d like the vegetables only, if you don’t mind. Bryce and I don’t seem to do so well with meat these days.”

“Bryce?”

Gabby laughed, self-conscious. “My baby. I’m going to name him Bryce, and I guess I’m getting in the habit of using his name. Thinking of him as a person.” She’d been in the habit from the moment she’d known she was pregnant. It was going to be a boy, and she would name him Bryce after her father, a decision made the instant she’d thrown away the third pregnancy kit. Bryce…that was the only way she could make sense of things.

Laura laughed. “Boys are nice. At least, that’s what I’ve
heard. We’ve got three girls, and I’m not sure if I’d know what to do with a boy now, after so many years.”

“To be honest, I’m not sure I’m going to know what to do with a baby, boy or girl.”

“You’re…alone?” Laura asked, hesitant.

“Well, I was until about seven months ago.” Noncommittal response that would suffice. Smiling, she patted her belly. “But that’s sure not the case now.”

“I talked to my girls too…in the womb. Read books to them, sang to them, played music for them. My husband thought I was crazy, but for the whole time I was pregnant, I wasn’t alone, and I needed to make that connection.” She shrugged. “Anyway, I’d better get back to the kitchen.”

Once Laura was gone, Gabby turned her attention back to the window, wondering if she’d see the man, Neil Ranard, again, but he was gone. Oh, well…

“I’ll take both of them.” Two quilts weren’t too many, and both were so adorable. So were the fifteen newborn outfits she’d bought, along with the crib accessories, the bootees, the hats…There were so many baby things she’d never thought about before and, so far, she’d bought every single thing she’d looked at. This morning her ankles were normal, her back felt fine, Bryce was kicking up a storm, and she was totally in love with Handmade for Baby. It was an amazing little store, fronted on the main street right next to a candy store. She hadn’t been in there yet, but she would. And she intended to browse through the little maternity boutique that Debbi Laughlin, the babystore clerk, had recommended.

“You staying here long?” Debbi asked. She was seventeen at most, with short, spiky yellow hair, a pierced eyebrow, and an engaging, warm smile.

“Just another day, then I’ll be going back to Chicago.”

Debbi arched her eyebrows over the mention of Chicago and Gabby’s gaze fixed on the little silver ring anchored there that bobbed up and down. “I’ve always wanted to go there. Maybe even save my money and move there, go to college…anywhere but here.”

“You don’t like it here?” Gabby asked. So far, she hadn’t found anything in White Elk she didn’t like.

“It’s OK, if you’re old, I suppose.”

Old, like she was? Gabby laughed inwardly at the thought. Thirty-three wasn’t old, but to someone Debbi’s age, it was ancient. “Well, I think it’s a nice little town.”

“Little’s the thing. I don’t like little. It’s boring.”