The Doctor's Redemption
A love worth staying for…
Dr. Mark Clayborn never wanted to return to Alabama, but his father’s recent ill health has him back and facing his demons. Yet from the darkness shines a beacon of light: Laura Jo Akins—and he’s hoping she tastes as sweet as he imagines her to be!
For so long Laura Jo’s only focus has been her daughter, but despite her reluctance, gorgeous Mark incites feelings she’d thought herself immune to… Could Laura Jo be the one to give Mark the courage to stay—and discover the love he deserves?
“I bet if you tried, you could find something you like about me. Maybe this will help.”
Mark wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her to him. Laura Jo only had time to gasp before his lips found hers. She didn’t react at first, which gave him time to taste her lips. Soft, warm and slightly parted. Then for the briefest of seconds she returned his kiss. His heart thumped against his ribs at the possibilities before her hands spread wide against his chest. She shoved him away—hard.
His hands fell to his sides.
“You had no right to do that,” she breathed.
“I can’t say that I’m sorry.”
She slid behind the steering wheel, and before she could close the door he said, “Good night, Laura Jo.”
“It’s more like goodbye.” She slammed the door.
Not a chance.
Mark watched her taillights disappear up his drive. They’d be seeing each other again if he had anything to say about it. She was the first woman he’d met who had him thinking about the possibilities of tomorrow, even when he shouldn’t.
Dear Reader,
For years I have been fascinated with the concept of Mardi Gras and the tradition behind it. Most people only know of wild, free-spirited times in New Orleans. When Kathy Cooksey, a friend of mine, moved to Louisiana, I learned that there is more to the season than what I’ve seen on TV. During a visit to her house my children and I enjoyed a family atmosphere of parades and king cake. Boy, did we attend parades! Sometimes as many as three a day. Even my youngest would holler, “Hey, mister, throw me some beads!”
I later learned that Mobile, Alabama, was the first city in America to celebrate Mardi Gras. At the Mardi Gras Museum located there, I discovered the behind-the-scenes events of the local society. I learned about krewes. Another friend and I attended one of the balls, and had the pleasure of seeing the King and Queen along with their court—which I describe in the book.
Laura Jo and Mark’s story takes place during the Mardi Gras season. As medical personnel they help, but they also get in on the fun. It is a time of high revelry and—for them—a chance for change. Mardi Gras is about living high and then giving something up for Lent. As you read Laura Jo and Mark’s story you will see that they did just that and found life all the better. I hope you enjoy their story and the Mardi Gras season surrounding it.
If you would like to make your own king cake and gumbo, you can find the recipes on my website at
susancarlisle.com
. I also love to hear from my readers.
Susan
THE DOCTOR’S
REDEMPTION
Susan Carlisle
Books by Susan Carlisle
Heart of Mississippi
The Maverick Who Ruled Her Heart
The Doctor Who Made Her Love Again
Heart Surgeon, Hero…Husband?
The Nurse He Shouldn’t Notice
Hot-Shot Doc Comes to Town
NYC Angels: The Wallflower’s Secret
Snowbound with Dr. Delectable
Visit the Author Profile page
at
Harlequin.com
for more titles.
To Kathy Cooksey and Jeanie Brantley.
Thanks for sharing Mardi Gras with me.
Praise for
Susan Carlisle
“Shimmering with breathtaking romance amid the medical drama, spectacular emotional punch, a believable conflict and vivid atmospheric details,
NYC Angels: The Wallflower’s Secret
is sure to thrill Medical Romance readers.”
—
GoodReads
CONTENTS
CHAPTER ONE
T
HE PARADES WERE
what Laura Jo Akins enjoyed most about the Mardi Gras season in Mobile, Alabama. This year was no different. She placed a hand on the thin shoulder of her eight-year-old daughter, Allie.
Her daughter smiled up at her. “When does the parade start?”
“It should already be moving our way. Listen. You can hear the band.”
The faint sound of a ragtime tune floated from the distance.
Allie looked up at Laura Jo. “Can we stay for the next one too?”
The sure thing about Mardi Gras was that the parades kept coming. The closer the calendar got to Fat Tuesday the more heavily the days were filled with parades. Sometimes as many as four a day on the weekends.
“No, honey. They’re expecting me at the
hospital. We’ll watch this one and then we have to go.”
“Okay, but we get to see one another day, don’t we?”
“Maybe on Wednesday. Next Monday and Tuesday you’ll be out of school for a long weekend. We’ll be sure to watch more then.”
“Why can’t I be in one?” Allie asked, turning to look at Laura Jo.
It had been a constant question during last year’s Mardi Gras season and had become more demanding during this one. “Maybe when you get older. For now we’ll just have to watch.”
As the banner holders at the head of the parade came into sight the crowd pushed forward, forcing her and Allie against the metal barriers. A bicycling medical first responder or mobile EMT circled in front of them then rode up the street. He looked familiar for some reason but, then, most of the medical help during the carnival season were employed at the hospital where she worked. Dressed in red biking shorts and wearing a pack on his back, he turned again and pedaled back in their direction. Laura Jo squinted, trying to make out his features, but his helmet obscured her view.
Members of the medical community volunteered to work during Mardi Gras to help out with the crowds. Most of the nurses and
doctors gave up their days off during the season to work the parades. It wasn’t required but many enjoyed being a part of the celebration. Laura Jo knew most of the employees at Mobile General, at least by face. Although she couldn’t place the rider, he looked just fine in his formfitting pants. He must bike regularly.
“Look, Mommy.” Allie pointed to a group of people who had come through the barriers and were entertaining the crowd standing on both sides of the street. They were dressed in clown-type outfits and were riding three-wheeled bikes with bright-colored fish attached to the side.
Laura Jo smiled down at her daughter. “That’s the Mystic Fish.”
They made a circle or two in the open parade area and then disappeared into the crowd across the street from her and Allie. Laura Jo knew from years of watching parades that they would appear somewhere else along the parade route.
“What’s a mystic fish?” Allie asked.
“You know what a fish is. In this case it’s a club or group of people. It’s also called a krewe. Because they meet in secret they are mystic or mysterious. It’s all just fun.”
“Are you in a queue?’
“It’s krewe. Like a crew member. And, no, I’m not.” She placed a hand on her daughter’s
head. “I have you to take care of, work at the shelter and at the hospital. No time.”
Laura Jo understood being a member of a krewe. Her family had been participants all her life. In fact, they had been a part of the largest and most prestigious krewe in Mobile. She’d been one of the Mobile society that had celebrated her coming of age at carnival time. But no more.
The noise level increased as the first high-school band approached. She positioned Allie between her and the barrier so Allie could see. As the first ostentatiously decorated float rolled by the spectators pressed closer to them. The float was designed in a dragon motif and painted green, purple and gold with piles of beads hanging off pegs. Members of the krewe were dressed in costumes and wore masks.
She and Allie joined those around them in yelling, “Throw me something, mister.”
Raising their hands along with everyone else, she and Allie tried to catch the beads, plastic cups with the krewe name printed on them or stuffed animals that were being thrown from the float. Bands playing and music blaring from large speakers mounted on the floats made it difficult to hear.
One krewe member made eye contact with Laura Jo and pointed at Allie. He threw a small
stuffed gorilla to Laura Jo, which she handed to Allie, who hugged it to her and smiled up at the grinning man. The float moved on.
When a strand of brightly colored beads flew through the air in Allie’s direction from the next float, Laura Jo reached to catch them. She couldn’t and they were snatched by the man standing behind her. He handed them to Allie. She smiled brightly at him. That was one of the special things about Mardi Gras in Mobile. It was a family affair. Any age was welcome and everyone saw that the children had a good time. Twenty minutes later a fire truck that signaled the end of the parade rolled by.
The man standing next to them shifted the barrier, creating an opening. A few people rushed through in an effort to snatch up any of the goodies that had fallen on the pavement.
“Mama, can I get those?” Allie pointed out into the street, now virtually empty except for a few children.
Laura Jo searched for what Allie was asking about. On the road lay a couple of plastic doubloons. “Sure, honey. There won’t be another parade for an hour.”
Allie ran through the opening and ran in the direction of the strand of gold and silver disks. In her exuberance to reach her target she stumbled and fell, stopping herself with her hands.
Laura Jo gasped and rushed to her. Allie had already pushed herself up to a sitting position. Tears welled in her eyes but she’d not burst into sobs yet. There was an L-shaped hole in the thin material of her pants and a trickle of blood ran off the side of her knee.
“Oh, honey,” Laura Jo said.
“My hands hurt.” Allie showed Laura Jo her palms. The meaty part looked much like her knee.
“Friction burns.” Laura Jo took one of Allie’s wrists and raised her hand, blowing across it. Here she was a registered nurse with not a bandage to her name. Allie’s injuries were going to require far more than what Laura Jo was doing.
“Can I help here?” a deep male voice said from above them.
Laura Jo glanced up to see the bike medic she’d admired earlier. She’d been so adsorbed with Allie she’d not noticed him ride up.
“Do you have any four-by-fours? Some antibiotic cream?” Laura Jo asked.
The man gave her a curious look then stepped off the bike. He slung the red pack off his back and crouched down on his haunches. “Let me see what I can do.”
Laura Jo looked at him through moisture in her eyes. She knew him. Or more accurately knew who he was. Mark Clayborn. She’d had
no idea he was back in town. But, then, why would she? “If you’ll just share your supplies I can handle it. I’m her mother and a nurse.”
“I appreciate that but I need to treat your daughter since it happened at the parade. I’ll have to make a report anyway.”
She gave him room. Years ago she’d been very enamored of Mark Clayborn. Just young enough to hero worship him, she’d often dreamed of “what if” when he’d glanced her way. Which he never had, unless it had been to smile at the gaggle of young maids in his queen’s court. He’d had it all. Good looks, social status, education and a bright future. And to top it off he’d been Mardi Gras King that year. Every girl had dreamed of being on his arm and she’d been no different. She had watched him so closely back then no wonder he seemed familiar.
Allie winced when he touched the angry skin of her knee.
