Deanne Anders - The Surgeon's Baby Bombshell

The look on Ian’s face—a face that was usually so unreadable—showed signs of shock and maybe a little bit of horror. Did the thought of working with her scare him that much?

Or maybe he was one of those men who didn’t like to get his hands dirty with actual physical work? Though judging by the hard build of his body the man worked at something besides what he did in the operating room. He was probably one of those gym rats, and the only sweating he did was on a machine surrounded by other people.

Or maybe it was fear of injuring his hands. Her father had always refused to do anything in which he could injure his hands.

“I don’t think that’s necessary, Dr....um... Richard,” Ian said. “I’m sure you’re aware how busy the hospital is right now.”

“The hospital’s always busy. Look at it this way: you’ll be helping an old man out here. Happy wife, happy life and all that. And don’t worry—I’ll be right there with y’all. Like I said, it’ll be fun.”

The two of them watched the older doctor as he headed back down the hall, calling out hellos to other staff members as he went.

“Maybe if you talk to him you can get him to change his mind,” Ian said as he turned back to her.

“Me? It’s your fault. You talk to him,” she said. “But I can tell you you’ll be wasting your time.”

“None of this is my fault,” he said. He looked down at his watch, then back up to her. “And now I’m running late for a case. Talk to him. Make him see reason. Tell him we’ll play nice together.”

She couldn’t help but smile at his comment.

“Hmm... Didn’t you tell me just the other day that you didn’t play with your colleagues?”

He gave her a look so sharp that it would have drawn blood—except for the fact that she dealt with traumatized teenagers on a daily basis. It would take a lot more than a look to intimidate her.

“Again, this is not my fault,” she said. “If you want to risk it, talk to him yourself. Dr. Guidry is a teddy bear most times, but break one of his rules and the teddy bear turns into a great big grizzly—and a hard-headed one at that. If I was you I’d just accept your sentence and deal with it. Which is exactly what I intend to do.”

She watched as the man walked off, muttering something about busybody doctors and nosy psychiatrists. She hadn’t been nosy—though she’d wanted to be after the way he had gone off after her comment concerning Sarah’s parents.

Did he really think she was judging them? She would never presume to understand what the little girl’s parents were going through, but there had been enough anguish in Ian to know that he did relate to Sarah’s parents. It was the first time in the five months they’d been working together that she had seen any true emotion in the man. But why?

Had he lost a patient in surgery who haunted him? Or was it someone closer? Had he lost a sister or a brother? She had heard that he was divorced, but she’d never heard anything about him having children.

Whatever it was that had caused the pain she had heard in Ian’s voice, it had been traumatic and he was still suffering from it. And even after the way he had acted she couldn’t help but be concerned for him. He was hurting and he needed help. She knew he’d never ask for it, but maybe if she could get him to trust her, he would open up to her.

The idea of working with him on the hospital’s Mardi Gras float was actually sounding good now. It was exactly what the two of them needed so they could begin to work together—and if in doing so she found a way to help Ian, then that would be even better.

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