Stephanie Dees - A Baby For The Doctor

Did the man never get thrown up on? He was a pediatrician.

In contrast, she was dressed—as usual—in riding pants and flannel. She had mud down her side where one of her young clients used her hip as a stepstool getting off his horse after therapy.

And she had been talking to herself. About him.

She stood the shovel on end and raised one eyebrow. “I’m a very good conversationalist, I’ll have you know.”

“Apparently.” He pushed off the wall with his shoulder and held out the bag. “For you. Double chocolate. Jules said it was your favorite.”

“It is. And you have perfect timing, actually. I’m done here. Want to share? I have milk.” When he gave her a look, she laughed. “No worries. We ate earlier because Levi can’t hold out until I’m finished with the animals. His babysitter—actually, your sister Wynn—is putting him to bed. He’s finally able to sleep in his room and even goes into his crib without crying.”

She slid the barn door closed and locked it.

“You don’t have to put the horses in?” He followed her down the trail around the pond toward her home.

“It’s warm enough now that I let them stay in the field sometimes. They work hard during the day, so they frolic at night.” Her lips twitched at her horse humor. See, she was funny. She could carry on a conversation. Reaching her front porch, she sat on the small bench outside the front door and shucked her boots, entering the cottage in sock feet, Ash right behind her. “Hey, Wynn, how did he do?”

Ash’s sister Wynn put her finger to her lips. “Sound asleep. That last bottle did the trick.”

“He didn’t sleep long this afternoon. I figured he’d go down pretty easy.” Gus nosed his way out of Levi’s room and ambled over, bumping his head against her hand until she crouched down to give him her attention. She looked up at Wynn as she scratched behind Gus’s ears. “Did he eat any food?”

“A few crackers and some mandarin oranges, even swallowed a little bit.” Wynn pulled the ponytail holder out of her long blond hair, shaking it out to fall down her back. “He’s precious. What time do you need me tomorrow?”

“My clients are in the morning tomorrow, so Mrs. Matthews can watch him. Thanks, though. You’re a lifesaver.”

“Pish.” Wynn picked up her purse, a small suede satchel with six-inch fringe, as she walked to the door. “I love that little guy.”

Ash towered over his petite sister. He put his arm around her. “If you’re looking for something to do while you’re home, I could use some help in the office. My receptionist is on maternity leave as of Tuesday.”

Wynn gave her brother a light shove. “Good luck with that.”

He closed the door behind Wynn. “She’s always been mean to me.”

“I can’t understand why. I know you’re glad to see her. She said she hasn’t been home for more than a day or two in three years.” Jordan grinned and held up the bakery bag, thankful that no awkwardness lingered between them. “Want a piece of the cupcake?”

He smiled. “There’s an oatmeal cookie in there for me. I was hoping we could talk for a minute.”

Unease drilled her right in the belly, but she poured two big glasses of cold milk and placed the cupcake on a napkin. “Let’s go sit in the living room and I’ll light a fire.”

With a long match from the container on the mantel, she lit the tinder under the logs. After watching a few seconds to make sure it caught, she joined Ash on the floor behind the coffee table. Gus settled beside her, his big head in her lap. “You don’t really strike me as a sit-on-the-floor-and-eat-cookies kind of guy.”

He looked up, surprised. “Really? At home, I always eat cookies on the floor.”

She laughed. “Okay, okay.”

The cupcake was her favorite but she couldn’t eat it, not knowing that Ash wanted to talk about Levi. “So what’s going on?”

Ash picked up the cookie and put it down again without taking a bite. “Okay. Let’s start at the beginning. We know that Levi is developmentally delayed. Trauma can do that. Neglect can do that. But when I examined him, he had a reflex—the Babinski reflex—that should be gone by the time he’s three. Sometimes if a child still has that reflex later, it’s a sign that there might be nerve damage. Because of the nature of the abuse that he suffered, I felt like it would be better to do the tests and find out for sure.”

“You sound like you’re reading from a report.”

He made a face. “Sorry. Professional hazard. I usually do better.”

She threaded her fingers into Gus’s thick pelt, letting the familiarity of his soft fur soothe her. “It’s okay. So the tests that we had done were to see if he has nerve damage. Like to his spine?”

“Yes. The fact that he isn’t crawling or walking even though his nutrition is better and he’s getting stronger made me wonder if his condition is irreversible.”

Jordan couldn’t breathe. “And the results of the test?”

“They were inconclusive.” His eyes were on hers, and the concern in them was so deep that it made her feel exposed, like he could see how shattered she was at the thought that Levi might have suffered permanent damage at the hands of his parents.

She swallowed hard, trying to process but knowing that she couldn’t really do that until she had some space to grieve. “So what you’re saying is that he may never walk?”

He stared at the fire for a second before he answered, meeting her eyes again. “I’m saying it’s a possibility. Kids’ bodies heal differently than adults. We just don’t know—won’t know—until we know.”

Burying her face in her hands, she tried so hard to fight back the emotional response to what he had told her and just look at it logically. She couldn’t. Silent sobs racked her body as she tried in vain to just take in a breath. How cruel was it that the abuse he had suffered strapped in a chair and left there could consign him to a wheelchair permanently?

Slowly, she became aware of Ash’s arms around her, his lips murmuring against her hair. “It’s gonna be okay.”

She pushed away from him, scrubbing the tears from her cheeks. “I’m so sorry. I don’t know what—I hate to cry.”

“You love him. That’s understandable.”

“He’s not even my kid.” She drew in a long, shaky breath. “And somehow that makes it even worse. He deserves a happy, stable life after all he’s been through and I have no way of making sure that happens.”

“I know. He does deserve that.” He rubbed his temples with his long doctor fingers and she noted that his fingernails were no longer rainbow, but there was a smudge of pink polish on one nail.

She felt a pang somewhere in the region of her heart as she thought about the fact that he took time to do manicures with little girls with cancer. Maybe he wasn’t quite the playboy that she made him out to be in her mind. He’d also taken the time to come here and talk through this with her because he knew it would be difficult.

She took another deep breath and tried to focus. Okay, so Levi might be in a wheelchair. At the very least, this information meant that he needed physical therapy immediately. It would be a long, arduous road for him, and she hated that thought. “Is it painful?”

“His legs? I don’t think so. He doesn’t act like it is. And he does have at least some feeling in his legs. My recommendation would be to do intense physical therapy and reevaluate in six months. There’s a doctor in Atlanta who has done some pretty great work with injuries of this kind, too. It would be good to get a second opinion. I’m not a specialist.”

“It’s going to be hard.”

“Yes.” He paused. “No doubt about that—it will be hard, on both of you.”