Read Found: A Mother for His Son Online

Authors: Dianne Drake

Tags: #Medical

Found: A Mother for His Son (6 page)

“Him, and about thirteen other people. Isaiah said you were very kind to him, and I’m guessing that wasn’t easy. He’s a stubborn man. And I can say that because he’s my uncle.”

“He was a little stubborn, come to think of it.” Jenna’s eyes twinkled with laughter. This was a nice place, she felt welcome here. “But I’ve had worse. All things considered, he wasn’t even on my list of the ten worst patients I’ve ever had.”

Sadie returned Jenna’s laughter. “Worse? Tell that to my aunt. She had a fit last night when she found out what had happened and he hadn’t even called her. And she had a bigger fit when she found out he’d actually thought about driving himself all the way over to Muledeer.”

“Because he didn’t want to disturb the doctor.”

“Doc Callahan’s had a rough few months and we’re just trying to help out. There’s so little you can really do when someone…well, dies, you know? And time is such an easy thing to give him, especially now, when he needs it with his son.”

“Except you’ve got to balance common sense with that.”

“Tell that to Uncle Isaiah. He still thinks he should have gone to Muledeer. He was Nancy’s schoolteacher for a couple of years, so he wants to be supportive to her family right now.”

“Nancy?”

“Nancy Allen. Dr. Callahan’s wife, and office nurse.”

“Her name was Nancy?” Interesting, how Dermott had never mentioned her name. More interesting that the legendary nurse Nancy had also been Dermott’s wife.

Sadie nodded yes. “Frank and Irene Allen’s daughter. It was so sad, how it happened.”

Something was telling Jenna that Nancy hadn’t died from a drug overdose, as she’d assumed. But Sadie wasn’t the one to ask about that. “So tell me, what’s good today?”

“Chicken salad. That’s the special. It has raisins in it.” Sadie gave her nod of approval, so that’s what Jenna ordered, along with an iced tea. Then she enjoyed a leisurely lunch where at least a dozen people stopped by her table, thanking her for coming to work in Fort Dyott, for helping Dermott. Then she returned to her apartment to spend the remainder of her two-hour break unpacking the rest of her clothes and settling in for good. And wondering about Nancy.

Finally down to her last clothes to put away—her undies—Jenna stared at them for a moment, realizing how symbolic putting them away would be. Cold feet set in. Her natural reaction. She wanted to put them away, was afraid to. Needed to.

“Damn,” she muttered, throwing them on the floor. “Damn, damn, damn!” One little thing. One simple little thing, and she couldn’t do it. Couldn’t make that kind of a commitment.
Pick them up, Jenna. Put them away, Jenna.
That’s all she had to do.
Come over here and take your punishment before Daddy has to get more angry with you than he already is, Jenna. Daddy really doesn’t want to hurt you again, but you make him do it. You’re such a bad, bad girl.

“You OK?” Dermott called from the hall. “I heard you shouting.”

No, she wasn’t OK. Not with a lot of things. “I’m fine,” she said, stepping over her undies on the way to the door. Beads of nervous perspiration dotted her face. Her hands shook. Her stomach knotted. “Just fine.”

“I trust you had a nice lunch?” Dermott asked. Shrugging into his white coat, he glanced out the front window and stared at the bustling little road for a moment. It did lead away from Fort Dyott, and he’d thought about that from time to time. Thought about loading Max into the car and simply driving until he found another place that looked like home to him. There was a doctor shortage in the area, he could find a job anywhere. But Max needed to be here to be near his grandparents. He’d already had so much disruption in his young life, and Dermott wasn’t about to cause more. So every time he thought about taking to the road, he turned his thoughts to the only thing he and Nancy had done right. For a man who’d never given a whole lot of thought to being a father, it was all he thought about nowadays. All he wanted to be. “Sorry I ran off and left you, but Max and I have a standing peanut butter and jelly lunch together every day, unless there’s an emergency.”

“Grape jelly?” Jenna asked.

“Is there any other kind?”

“Sometimes strawberry is good.”

Dermott shook his head. “On toast, but never on peanut butter. That’s serious stuff.”

“Where is he when you’re working?”

“With his grandparents. They’re great with Max. Love him to pieces, spoil him rotten. I don’t know what I’d do without them.”

“Then you’re lucky. My dad was a single father, and he left me alone a good bit of the time. Eventually I went to live with my grandparents, and it was better. So I know how nice it is to have them around to help you with Max. Nice for both of you.”

“Your grandparents raised you?” Honestly, he really didn’t know much about Jenna’s background. She’d never spoken of it and on the couple of times he’d asked questions, she hadn’t answered. What he remembered was…evasion?

“For a while.”

Dermott turned away from the window. “No mother?”

“She lived a hard life, and died young. I think she simply gave up when she couldn’t face it any longer. At least, to a little girl, that’s what it seemed like.”

“I’m sorry, JJ. I do know how rough that is. So your father…”

“Was a busy man,” she said, her voice thin and tight.

“Which is why you went to your grandparents’ home?” She wasn’t comfortable with this. Not at all, and this was a side of Jenna he’d never seen before. She was blank. Totally blank. No emotion, no expression. Nothing, except answers by rote from a woman who was always exuberant with her opinions. It made him wonder why, but he wouldn’t ask. A man who had his own secrets to hide had no business asking someone about theirs.

“It’s every child’s dream to live on a ranch, isn’t it? And I was lucky enough to have that dream come true for a while.”

Oh, so hurt. And defensive. It was written all over her. So much so he wanted to pull her into his arms and make it better. He wouldn’t, of course. But that didn’t stop the longing in him to do so. Time to get off the subject, though, because the closer he got to her problems, the closer he got to his own, and, heaven only knew, that was the last thing he wanted to do. It was time to quit trying to be involved personally or romantically, to quit thinking he actually could get involved again. “Max wants a horse, but he’s too young.”

“That’s what he told me. He has all kinds of plans for riding lessons, the kind of saddle he wants to buy, the name he’ll give his own horse when you buy him one.”

“He’s been talking to you?”

“Some. You know, the usual things. Will the big guy buy him a gray horse or a black one?”

Max was more of an observer these days and, except for family, he really didn’t talk much to other people. So with the way he’d clung to her during his nightmare, and now this, Dermott was encouraged. His son felt safe with her, and there’d been a time when Dermott wasn’t sure that Max would ever feel truly safe with
any
woman other than his grandmother. So this was good. “Look, JJ. I’m sorry I’ve been so preoccupied since you got here, and all you seem to do is get hit with problems.”

“You have been preoccupied, haven’t you?” she agreed, a look of relief washing over her face for the new direction in their conversation. “And maybe a little ill mannered. Oh, and a bad host,” she teased.

“Ill mannered?” He recalled other banter between them years ago. Damned sexy. And fun. “Bad host? That’s just your opinion.”

“My opinion, yes. And it’s correct, of course.”

She kept a perfectly straight face, but had to bite her lip to keep from smiling. He could see that. It reminded him of the first time he’d kissed her. They’d been going back and forth over which syringe needle gauge to use when giving an injection to a patient. He’d liked a bigger needle for its ease of medicine delivery. She’d liked using a smaller one, for patient comfort. Twenty-gauge, thirty gauge. They’d gone on and on about it for minutes, light, nearly flirtatious banter, ending with Jenna volunteering to give him an injection with each size needle to see which he’d prefer. “Drop your pants, Doctor, and I’ll stick you in the bottom with one of each to see which feels better to you.”

“Only if I can do the same to you,” he’d said. “Turnabout’s fair, you know.”

“Then you go first,” she retorted.

“I think you just want to see my bum,” he’d come right back at her.

She’d looked him square in the eye, practically no smile on her face, just like now, and said, “A beautiful bum is a beautiful bum, Doctor. What I’d prefer is seeing the expression on your face when I stick you in your beautiful bum with a twenty-gauge.”

He’d nearly lost his heart to her that day. He did lose the argument, without dropping his pants. On the bright side, though, he’d stolen a kiss, which had turned out to be the best victory of all. Just a quick one, as her stern facade had finally crumpled into a smile and she’d started laughing. Then he’d started laughing, and…well, he remembered the kiss. Remembered wondering if that would happen again.

As it turned out, he hadn’t had to wait too long for the next one. Good days, he thought.

Now, well…he knew it wouldn’t happen, but couldn’t help thinking about it. And he did enjoy the banter between them. It was nice, being reminded of old times. “Like I admitted, I’m a little preoccupied. I’ll even concede the ill-mannered part. Grudgingly. But bad host?” He shook his head. “A beautiful host is a beautiful host, Nurse.”

She looked properly surprised for a moment, then surprise melted into a full, sunshiny smile. “You remember that day?”

“Our first kiss? How could I forget it?”
Dangerous, dangerous stuff,
Dermott, he warned himself.
You’re playing with fire.
Fire that would eventually burn him if he wasn’t careful, because natural urges didn’t vanish simply because he wanted them to. He was going to have to go about this relationship very, very carefully because he had Max to think about now. Between his son and his medical practice, there wasn’t enough of him left over for anything or anyone else.

“Well, it wasn’t exactly the most romantic situation, was it?” She smiled, remembering.

“And we weren’t exactly the most romantic couple.”

Jenna’s eyes fairly sparkled. “I don’t remember that we were actually an official couple. More like two people skating around the edges of involvement, but not really ever entering the circle.”

“Well, it wasn’t for a lack of trying, because you could have had me in that circle any time you wanted, Jenna. You knew that. Then that day we got caught in the closet…” There had never been anybody in his life since who’d affected him the way Jenna had. Yes, they’d already slept together by that day. Frantically. Wildly. So many times in such a few weeks, and it had never been enough. Once, or twice, or a million times with Jenna was never enough. Then that day in the hospital, they’d teased each other, exchanged suggestive whispers in the hall, sent looks that had left nothing to the imagination. In any other place they’d have been out of their clothes and onto better things in the blink of an eye. That’s just the way they’d been. But that day, in the hospital…he’d wanted her in every way a man could want a woman and she’d wanted him just as badly. The closet had been out of the way, convenient, they had both been on a break…and forgotten to lock the door.

Well, he’d served out the last weeks of his residency with a few pats on the back from admirers, a few suggestive winks, a few bawdy if not jealous comments from colleagues. Jenna…she’d transferred to another department the next day and taken a job at another hospital the next week.

That had been the end of that. He’d called her, gone to her apartment, banged on her door, left notes, sent flowers. But she’d moved away. No notice. No forwarding address.

Sure, he could have found her. He knew where she worked for a while after that, until she changed jobs again. But what was the point? She’d made herself clear. It was over. They were finished.

“Different times, different people,” she said on a wistful sigh. “Young and foolish, young and hormonal, take your pick.” Then she sobered up. “Why didn’t you tell me that Nancy your nurse was also Nancy your wife?”

“Didn’t I?”

“No.”

“Oversight, I guess.”

“Was it really?”

Maybe it wasn’t. Maybe he didn’t want Jenna to think that his judgment was so depleted that he could have invested so much in a woman who’d done bad things to him both professionally and personally. It was one thing to say that he hadn’t noticed what his wife was doing, and that was true for quite a while. But to admit that he didn’t know his office nurse was stealing drugs? It made him look like a fool, being so blind to everything, trusting someone who’d falsified the office pharmaceutical records. So maybe what he was doing was trying to save face in Jenna’s eyes, because what she thought of him mattered.

Well, so much for that! And so much for the pleasant few moments they’d just spent.

Without saying another word, Dermott spun around and marched into his office, his footsteps thudding heavily against the wooden ground. When he got there, he slammed the door so hard it knocked his medical diploma off the wall. He looked at it lying on the floor for a moment before he bent to pick it up, studying the writing on it, thinking about all it stood for. Dermott Maxwell Callahan, Doctor of Medicine. Graduated with honors, top of his class.

He was a doctor, sworn to serve, to help, to heal. And he was a miserable failure right here in his office, where all that mattered most. Damn, where had he gone so wrong?

The fit of anger and frustration in him boiled over so hard that after he picked it up Dermott threw the diploma at the wall, shattering its glass as it hit, and knocking over a pottery lamp on its way to the floor. That too fell, and broke.

“Dermott?” Jenna called from outside in the hall. “Are you OK?”

He didn’t answer. Should have, but he wasn’t OK. Nothing was OK.

“Dermott. Just say something, will you?”

Damn, he hated himself.

“Dermott, please…”

“I don’t talk about her,” he finally yelled. “OK? I just don’t talk about her.” Balling his fists, he wanted to punch the wall, but he didn’t. That would only injure his hand, then Jenna would have to fix him up which would lead to…more talk. But he was talked out on the subject. Emotionally drained. Tired. So, rather than doing something stupid, he slipped into his chair and turned to look out the window at the road, wondering, once again, what it would be like to take it. Just pack up his son and go somewhere where no one knew him.

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