Cheryl Wyatt - Doctor to the Rescue

Ian dipped his head to hide the snicker. Truth be told, her offer tempted, since this morning her room had turned into a disaster. How could one small person make that big a mess? “Tell you what, we’ll get Sully’s sherbet after work.”

“I don’t like ice cream. And I don’t like you!” She shoved him away, looking like a fugitive pondering flight. He pinched the hem of the new coat he’d bought her in case she made good on the getaway brewing in her eyes. Bri must’ve heard the sidewalk scuffle, because she peeled her window curtain back.

Ian knelt in front of Tia, who glared at him. “Clearly, you’re not happy about having to come here. But I need your cooperation. Please, mind Miss Bri, and be careful of her arm.”

Bri stepped onto a rambling redwood deck that shone with a new coat of cherry lacquer she must’ve applied. Ian stood.

Tia went ballistic, eyes darting around the tree-dotted yard as though seeking escape. Panic filled him that she might actually pull it off. His eyes veered to the deep lake. Images of last night’s river drowning victims flooded Ian’s imagination. He bent down, embarrassed he didn’t know this yet about his own daughter. “Tia, how well do you swim?”

“I don’t know. I never tried it.” She eyed the sparkly sapphire lake, looking very much as though she wanted to, though. Fear like Ian had never known noosed his neck.

Bri knelt. “I’ll make sure she doesn’t leave my sight,” she reassured as though seeing the stark fear swirling inside him. Ian had never known fire-red, dragon-breathing fear. Not even in combat.

This was his daughter. His joy. His life.

If something were to happen to her...

Ian swept her up in his arms and hugged tight despite her wriggling and making gagging noises. A kiss planted on her forehead, he carried her inside Bri’s cabin and set her down at the farthest end from the lake and all its dangers. “I’ll be back at two. Sooner if I can. Later if traumas pour in.”

Ian felt hope as Tia darted behind his legs, away from Bri. He knelt at eye level, bracing Tia’s arms. “Listen, Miss Bri is your new babysitter. She’s fun. You’ll like her.”

She scowled at him, then Bri. “I’ll hate her.”

“Not acceptable, Tia.” Beyond that, he didn’t know what to say. Make her apologize? He could crawl under a rock. As a dad, he was an epic failure. He studied Tia, hoping for a lightning bolt of wisdom.

Bri knelt in front of Tia. “You mean to tell me you’d hate a babysitter who loves to fairy hunt?”

Tia’s eyes widened. Anger fled. Flabbergasted, Ian blinked. What just happened here?

“Fairy hunt?” Tia sucked in a heap of air. “For real?” She looked at Ian for confirmation.

“Sure,” he answered Tia. “Bri’s a renowned fairy hunter.”

Suspicion narrowed Tia’s eyes. She stepped over to Bri. Aimed a finger at her nose. “Prove it.”

When Bri rose, extending her arm, Tia reached for her hand.

And just like that, Bri won his daughter’s fragile trust.

A little jealous, Ian bid them goodbye with his daughter’s demand ringing through his head and heart.

Prove it.

Those two words were the summation of his life right now, Ian thought as he strode a familiar path to the trauma center.

He desperately needed to win Tia’s trust. Needed to prove he wasn’t the world’s biggest failure as a husband and a dad. Prove to a bank that Bri’s lodge was worth saving. Prove to financial backers that his trauma center expansion projects were worth their time and dime. And lastly, he needed to know, and needed Tia to know, that life would get better. That she’d be okay.

Especially since the ink had dried on unpreventable papers. Ones on which Tia’s mom had too easily signed her away. Anger consumed him that Ava chose a sleazy boyfriend over a child. Now at EPTC’s side entrance for employees, he jerked open the heavy steel door, stormy gray like his mood. He stalked down the halls, not caring that staff had to scramble out of his way.

He wanted to get these surgeries over with and end this too-long and terrible day. Get back to his daughter and try to earn the trust that would take all her pain away.

The second Ian stepped into the operating room, he became all about the medicine. His focus fastened fully on the patient. A patient who deserved a better bedside manner than Ian had displayed walking in here.

A teen girl with the same color hair as his daughter’s.

He needed to apologize to his staff and resist making excuses for his bad behavior. Sure, he’d been up all night tending a never-ending stream of traumas. Hard ones. The kind he couldn’t save. But so had they. Friday nights were like that.

At the operating table, he faced Mitch. “We need to come up with some positive activities for teens around here, bro. Alcohol-infested parties sent way too many of ’em in here last night.” And two of them to their graves prematurely.

Mitch nodded and began to work on the teen whose face had fractured on impact from projectile wine-cooler bottles last night. Two unbelted passengers had been ejected and pulled massive amounts of water into their lungs when the car skidded into a riverbank.

Ian fought worrying over Tia and her curiosity, and Bri’s cabin sitting so close to the lake. Ian trusted Bri. He focused on damping down his fear while enabling his patient to breathe. “She owes her life to her seat belt. It’s good she was buckled, but she shouldn’t have had access to alcohol at age sixteen.”

Mitch nodded. “Agreed.”

A series of mechanical beeps, shooshes and stainless-steel-on-steel chinks invaded the sterile suite along with silent concentration as the surgery got under way.

After their successful operation, Ian found Mitch charting at a mahogany desk in the plaid-decor doctors’ lounge. “Did you hear what I said earlier about creating alternatives for teens?”

Mitch scratched notes on a post-op report and sighed. “I’ll stick it on the list.” Remorse flickered in his eyes. “I hate being so time strapped.” He was getting married in a few months. While Ian was happy for Mitch, attending his wedding was going to be difficult. Especially in light of a divorce Ian had desperately tried to prevent.

Plus, they were under a ton of pressure to get a second trauma crew selected and trained so the current crew wasn’t so stretched with long hours and lack of sleep. Like last night.

Poor Tia. He’d had to drag her here. Tia! Ian slammed his watch up. Ten past two. He stood abruptly. “Hey, Mitch, catch you later. Gotta go. I promised Tia I’d try and be back by two.” He sprinted across EPTC’s lot, past Landis Lodge to Bri’s cabin, hoping her quirky bird clock hadn’t squawked, alerting Tia to his lateness.

Bri met his approach at the deck, finger to her lips. He tripped with a tremendous clatter over a gnome in her yard. Despite winter’s chilly onset, heat blasted his neck.

After seeing if he was okay, Bri bit back a grin and stood. “Try to be quiet. She’s napping.”

“Wow. You got her to nap?” He stepped into her cabin to mouthwatering scents of Italian herbs, roasted tomatoes and cheesy pasta. The open-room layout afforded a great view of her forest-critter themed kitchen and stove. His stomach growled, reminding him he’d been too occupied to eat.

“We hunted fairies all morning.” She motioned him to have a seat and set a tall glass of tea in front of him.

He sipped, loving the memories it evoked of dinners with family. A scenario Bri probably hadn’t experienced in years. His heart clenched, wondering if it would always be just him and Tia.

He’d missed family get-togethers while at war. He needed to carve out time to take Tia to visit his mom. She’d like Bri. Ian ripped his gaze from whatever culinary goodness bubbled in that pan, and the ridiculous notion that Bri would ever meet his mom.