Stephanie Dees - A Baby For The Doctor

Yes, a name was kind of important.

Ash is on his way, too. We were in his office when we got the call.

Her heart stopped beating for an almost imperceptible second. Ash was the town pediatrician and her brother-in-law. And he was the most perfect human being she had ever met. She wasn’t even sure she liked him because when it came to Ash, she turned into a klutzy teenager every time she got close to him. As if going through that stage once wasn’t enough.

She pulled out of the driveway onto the highway and began to pray, one of those new skills she’d acquired. The children who came to live at Red Hill Farm brought heartbreak and grief and trauma. Since she couldn’t take it away from them, the only alternative was to walk through it with them, and to do that, she needed Jesus. That had become abundantly clear very quickly.

Surround that little boy with Your peace, Lord. Heal his wounds, body and spirit. Let him never feel ashamed for what others did to him. Let him never feel unloved, unwanted, unworthy. He is Your child, Lord. Yours. Give me the strength and courage to be Your body, Your welcoming arms, for this child.

There were other things that were hard, but the prayers came easy.

At the hospital she walked through the doors, looking for the information desk, and ran into Ash. Her bags went flying, arms flailing.

When he put his arms out to steady her, her heart started thumping in her chest. He had on a pale blue pinpoint oxford cloth shirt and a crisp white lab coat with his name embroidered on the pocket. Ashley Sheehan, MD.

“You okay?” His summer-sky eyes were concerned.

“Fine, thanks.” She realized she had the lapels of his formerly pristine lab coat fisted in her hands and loosened her grip with a wince. “Sorry.”

Jordan took a step away from him and brushed off her jeans, noticing a brown smudge that she really hoped was just dirt. No wonder Ash didn’t see her as dating material. The supermodel types he went out with wouldn’t be caught dead wearing horse poop. Laughing at herself now, she leaned down to collect her stuff. “Have you seen our little patient yet?”

“Not yet. I was waiting for you. He’s in room 314.”

The caseworker, Reesa, a petite woman with a riot of lavender curls, was waiting for them as they got off the elevator on the third floor. “Hey, guys, they’re about to discharge Levi. He’s been treated for chemical burns, tape burns, neglect. Cops called us when they picked up the parents for cooking meth.”

Jordan’s eyes stung. She wouldn’t cry. Not in front of the caseworker—not in front of Ash—but already she wanted to weep. “He’s three? Any family?”

Reesa started down the hall. “Not that anyone is willing to tell us about, so there won’t be any visits, at least for now. I’ll let you know if that changes. And yes, he’s three, but he’s small. He’s also scared of me, so I’m going to let you two go in. The nurses said you can dress him and get him ready to go.”

She stopped in front of a door. “Jordan, here’s your paperwork. He’s officially being placed with you and you will sign the discharge papers.”

Jordan nodded. “And Claire?”

“Let’s talk about that sometime next week.” Reesa handed her the folder and backed toward the elevator. “For now your name is on the placement letter.”

The weight of what she’d agreed to sat heavily on her shoulders. Not knowing what to expect was always hard for her. She liked life on her own terms, and being a foster parent was pretty much the opposite of that.

As Reesa disappeared down the hall, Jordan shoved the papers into the pocket of the diaper bag and looked at Ash. “You ready?”

When he nodded, she pushed the door open. Room 314 was silent, shadowy. The only light on was the one over the bed, which highlighted the tiny boy. He might be three but he wasn’t even the size of the average two-year-old. Curled up in sleep, he looked more like an infant.

She stopped halfway to the bed. He had bandages around his wrists and ankles, and gauze wrapped around his midsection. Dressed only in a diaper and covered partially by a sheet, he was unmoving in the bed.

Ash touched her arm. “Do you want me to go first?”

She shook her head. Levi was so still and quiet that she thought he was asleep, but when she rounded the end of the bed, she realized that his eyes were open and fixed on the window. “Hey, buddy.”

Levi startled, but he didn’t look at her. She reached into the bag she’d so haphazardly packed and pulled out a lovey, as Claire’s kids called them. She placed it near his fingers.

Next out of the bag was the smaller pair of pajamas, which she realized would still swallow him. But actually, that might be better over the bandages.

“How about I take a quick look before you dress him?”

At the sound of Ash’s deep voice, Levi started to shake, and he curled into a protective position, knees at his chin.

Jordan longed to pick him up and bring him safely into her arms, but she knew that he wouldn’t feel safe there—not yet. Looking over at Ash and meeting his eyes, she gave him an apologetic shrug. “Maybe if you give us a few minutes.”

Ash nodded and backed toward the door. “I saw Dr. Lowenstein at the nurses’ station. I’m going to get his thoughts on Levi’s care from here on out and take a look at the chart before he’s discharged.”

She studied the baby in the bed. Levi was in near fetal position, his thumb in his mouth, dark brown eyes wide and terrified. She’d gentled a lot of fearful horses in her time, horses who had been mistreated and neglected. Maybe teaching this little boy that she could be trusted wasn’t so different.

Jordan pulled the rocking chair close to the bed, close enough to touch him. The first thing she did with a skittish horse was get them used to the sound of her voice. She began to sing to Levi, a little song she’d learned as a child. He glanced at her and looked away, but he didn’t cry.

She heard the door softly latch as Ash closed it behind him. If she could just act like a normal human being around the handsome doctor, they could be friends. Instead, she was as awkward as a seventh grader at her first boy-girl party.

But there was no slow dancing here in room 314. Nothing to worry about. She smiled into a toddler’s troubled brown eyes. Levi was the new man in her life now.

* * *

Ash leaned against the wall outside the door of the hospital room where Levi Wheeler rested. Nausea churned in his stomach—not at the wounds; he’d seen worse. No, he had to make an excuse to get out of the room because the thought that the very people who were supposed to love and protect this little boy were the ones—

Our God is a great big God and He holds us in His hand...

Jordan’s sweet voice carried through the closed door. He didn’t know how she could sing about God right now. Where was God when that baby’s parents duct-taped him into a chair and left him there for days?

Ash’s hand curled into a fist but he resisted the urge to punch the wall, instead choosing to walk the few feet to the nurses’ station. “Levi Wheeler?”

The nurse selected the chart and handed it across the counter. “I haven’t seen you in a while, Dr. Sheehan. You have time for a coffee? I’ve got a break coming up.”

Flashing the smile was automatic. “I don’t today. Rain check?”

He looked over the notes that Dr. Lowenstein had left in Levi’s chart and glanced back at the nurse. “You have his discharge papers ready?”

“Yes, sir.” The pretty blonde looked up at him from under her lashes.

He sighed and then forced the appropriate words. “Thanks, Amber. Let’s see if we can get this young man out of the hospital.”