A Baby for the Doctor Read online

  “Yeah, not so much.” As soon as the words were out in space, he regretted them. He didn’t like to talk about his childhood, at least what he remembered of it. Too many years had been spent in a drug-induced haze after surgeries, chemo and radiation. “When kids are sick, it puts a real strain on the family.”

  Jordan silently fed another piece of apple to Freckles. When she finished, she looked at him, a quizzical expression in her ocean-blue eyes. “Are you speaking as a doctor?”

  It was the perfect out. He could say yes and she would never question it, but what good would that do? “I had cancer when I was a kid. I spent most of two years in the hospital and then I was in and out all through school.”

  “That must have been so hard.”

  Her hand on his arm surprised him. He smiled, slid his fingers through his hair and looked away, embarrassed. “It was. No one in the family really talks about it much. Even me. Especially me, I guess.”

  “We don’t have to talk about it, Ash.” Her voice was gentle, but he knew she meant it. Being with her was easy, and maybe that was why he found himself wanting to stay. To watch the sun travel the afternoon sky, talk to Jordan, watch the little guy’s eyes lose some of the wariness.

  And that scared the mess out of him. Ash reached into his pocket for his keys. “I’m glad I got to see our little patient. Keep the cream on those irritated areas and stick with the formula for a while. I’ll see you in a few days at the office for his formal evaluation.”

  Surprise hid in her eyes, but she nodded. “Sounds good. Thanks for the supplies.”

  His car was just on the other side of the yard in the driveway. Was he running away?

  Yes, probably.

  And he didn’t have to dig deep into his psyche to figure out why.

  Chapter Three

  Jordan bargained with Joe and Claire’s thirteen-year-old daughter, Amelia, to listen for Levi so she could do the morning chores with the animals. It cost her a drive into town to the middle school, but with Amelia safely at school, she and Levi had time for breakfast at the Hilltop before their appointment at the WIC—Women, Infant, Children nutrition—office.

  The café was owned by Joe and Ash’s mom, Bertie, and her blueberry pancakes were the best in the state. Jordan pushed the door open, the bell on the door jingling.

  Bertie looked up from behind the cash register and made a beeline toward them. “Oh, I heard about this little sweetie pie. Hi, Levi!”

  Levi buried his head in Jordan’s shoulder and wailed. Jordan winced. “I’m sorry. He’s found his voice and he’s been using it. A lot.”

  “No, it’s my fault. I always get excited and forget there’s a reason our kids end up in our family. We’re a little short on tables this morning, but Ash ran in for a cup of coffee and a Danish. He’s in the back corner.” As she said the words, she tucked her hand through Jordan’s arm and started walking.

  “I don’t want to disturb him. Really, Bertie, I can wait.” A sense of desperation laced her voice. “We can get takeout!”

  “Nonsense. He’ll love the company.” Bertie all but dragged Jordan to the corner table. “Look who’s here to have breakfast with you, Ashley.”

  Ash’s jaw clenched and Jordan smothered a laugh as she slid onto the seat. “Only a mother can get away with calling you by your full name.”

  Bertie chuckled. “I’ll be right back with coffee for you and...chocolate milk for the little one?”

  Jordan looked at Levi. “Sure, let’s give it a try.”

  Ash was wearing khaki pants, a spotless white shirt and a bright green bow tie with blue whales. His black square-frame glasses should have made him look nerdy, but didn’t. He just got cuter.

  “Nice tie.”

  She was teasing him but he looked up from his Danish and said, “Thanks.”

  Catching the expression on her face, his eyes took on a knowing look. “Oh, you’re joking. Hmm. It must only be the under-twelve set that likes dolphin-print bow ties.”

  He winked at Levi and a little pang hit her dead center in the belly. Why did he have to be so ridiculously handsome?

  Their waitress, Lanna, placed a high chair at the end of the table and came back seconds later with a mug of coffee for Jordan. “The new baby’s cute. What can I get you?”

  “Blueberry pancakes, please. Nothing for Levi, here.”

  “Got it.” Lanna ripped a ticket off and shoved the pad back in her pocket. She turned to Ash. “A refill for you, hot stuff?”

  Ash cut his eyes at Lanna. “Such abuse. I’m leaving.”

  She was laughing under her breath as she walked to the kitchen to give Jordan’s ticket to the cook.

  “Lanna loves to rub that in my face.” His cheeks turned ruddy. “When I was thirteen, I came in for a sandwich. She asked me what kind of bread I wanted and called me Ash, as she should. I said, ‘that’s “hot stuff” to you.’”

  Jordan nearly spit out her coffee as she choked in laughter. “No wonder she gives you grief. You totally deserve it.”

  He laughed and slid a ten under the sugar dispenser. “I know. I’m not sure what I was thinking. I was barely five feet tall and a hundred pounds soaking wet.”

  “That’s some confidence.” She lifted baby Levi from the seat beside her into the high chair, but before she even got him seated, he was screaming. High-pitched, terrified screeching. She picked him up immediately, aware that every eye in the restaurant was on her.

  Jordan pulled him into her arms and cuddled him as much as he would let her, saying over and over again into his ear, “You’re okay, Levi. You’re okay.”

  It wasn’t long before the screams turned into sobs and then sniffles. He stuck his thumb in his mouth and closed his eyes tight against the world.

  “Wow, when he found his voice, he really found it.” A little shell-shocked, she sat back against the bench seat, hands shaking, her face flaming. “It didn’t cross my mind that strapping him into the high chair would trigger the trauma for him.”

  Ash slid his glass of ice water to her. “You did exactly the right thing to handle it. He calmed down quickly. The pediatrician in me is impressed.”

  “I’m familiar with working with traumatized kids, just not usually this young. Being his foster mom makes it different than being a therapist, too.”

  “I’ve heard great things from my patients who are clients of yours.”

  She smiled. “You should come out some time and watch a session. The kids think they’re just coming to ride, but they work hard. And honestly, there’s something special about the horses. Some connection they have with kids with all kinds of special needs. I can’t explain it, but it works.”

  “There’s a huge need for people to have options for therapy. Not just kids, either. Don’t give up.”

  “I won’t. I’m not sure I could if I wanted to.” Her therapy practice was her passion and she absolutely loved the work she did with the kids. She’d even coached a few adult PTSD survivors with good results.

  “Don’t give up with Levi, either. He’s got a long way to go, but we’ll get him there.” Ash glanced at his watch and slid out of the booth. “I’ve got to run. My first patient will be waiting for me.”

  He took a few steps toward the door and turned back. “Hey, Jordan. Meltdowns happen. He learned during this one that you will be there for him when they do.”

  Touched, she nodded. To be honest, it was all she could do. She had no words. She watched Ash walk out of the restaurant, his characteristic confidence evident as he waved at Lanna and kissed his mom, stopping long enough to whirl her around until she swatted at him to put her down.

  Lanna slid the blueberry pancakes onto the table, along with a pitcher of warm maple syrup. “Bless this baby’s sweet heart. Yours, too. You stay as long as you like to finish that up.�
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  “Thanks, Lanna.”

  Jordan leaned forward to take the first bite and nearly choked as someone popped into the seat across from her. A pretty blonde she recognized—from church, maybe?

  “Hey, Jordan, I’m Darla. We met at the potluck after church a few weeks ago. I heard last night that you were picking this little one up and I called around. We’ve got meals planned for you for the next couple of weeks and Suzette Sloan pulled some baby supplies together for you. It’s not much but would it be okay if she drops it off on your porch?”

  Jordan’s throat was full of unshed tears. She swallowed hard, focusing on the solid weight of little Levi in her arms. Meeting Darla’s sparkling dark brown eyes, she smiled, willing her lips not to tremble. “I don’t even know what to say. Y’all are so generous.”

  “You don’t have to say anything—just say yes!” Darla laughed and pulled her cell phone out of her purse. “And give me your phone number in case we need to get in touch with you.”

  Jordan rattled it off as Darla typed it in. “What made you guys think about doing this?”

  Darla tucked a loose curl behind her ear. “Well, to be honest, I think we all wish that we had the nerve to do what you guys are doing out there on the farm. Maybe someday.” Darla’s phone buzzed and she glanced at it before jumping to her feet. “I’m supposed to be at Clara’s school right now. Okay, meals will start tonight and we’ll just leave everything on your porch. I’ll text you so you have my number.”

  As quick as she had arrived, Darla was gone. Jordan patted Levi on the back and decided to take her pancakes to go. She and Levi had to be at the WIC office in twenty minutes.

  She glanced across the street at Ash’s tidy office—with bright white paint and shiny black shutters. She wasn’t really sure what to make of their newfound friendship, if it was friendship. They’d forged a kind of bond, by caring for Levi.

  But maybe it was just that, a mutual concern for a sweet, sad baby boy.

  Whatever. She had more important things on her mind than Ash Sheehan. Things like building her therapy practice and making sure Levi healed. She didn’t have time to worry about Ash and their maybe-friendship. In fact, she was sure it wasn’t anything at all.

  And just to make sure she remembered that, she was going to stay as far away from the handsome doctor as possible.

  * * *

  When Jordan got home, Levi’s caseworker was sitting on the porch steps with a file spread around her and a pencil between her teeth. Jordan had just spent three hours in the WIC office with a toddler who refused—understandably—to be strapped into a stroller. She was absolutely exhausted, and unlike her small charge, she couldn’t take a nap on the drive home.

  Bartlet nickered at her over the fence. The horses were waiting for her. And so, apparently, was Reesa. Jordan hitched Levi higher on her hip and took a deep breath. “Hey, I didn’t know you were coming this afternoon.”

  Reesa gathered the papers and pulled them into a stack. “I had to visit with the twins, Jamie and John, and Claire today, so I thought I’d drop in to see Levi, too. Save me a trip another day. How’s he doing?”

  Pushing open the door to the cottage, Jordan let the dog out and tried to remember if she’d left anything embarrassing on the floor. “Come on in.”

  She placed sleeping Levi on the crib mattress on the floor and went to the kitchen to pour two glasses of sweet tea, kicking a loose pair of socks under the couch as she went. “He hates the crib. We’re working on it.”

  Reesa, in one of the chairs, waved a hand, dismissing it. “No worries. It takes time, sometimes more than you’d think, for them to adjust.”

  “Are we going to have a lot of time? Wait. Don’t answer that. I know you don’t have any way to really know.” She held one of the glasses out to Reesa, with a napkin.

  Reesa stuck a pencil into the pile of riotous curls on top of her head and leaned forward to take the glass. “Neither Mom nor Dad bonded out, so they’re still in jail. I’m going to see them later this week to get some names of family from them. If they still won’t give us anyone, we’ll try to get the judge to compel them to, but we don’t have a whole lot to hold over their heads. They’re already facing significant time with the drug charges and the child endangerment.”

  “So we’re probably looking at six months with Levi.”

  Reesa nodded, the colorful curls on her head bouncing wildly. “At least. Levi will be classified medically fragile and I have no idea what we’ll find when we start looking at family.” She paused and, with her customary directness, added, “Do we need to find him another placement?”

  “No.” Jordan didn’t hesitate. In just a couple of days, Levi’s journey had become inextricably entwined with hers and she had to see it through with him. “He’s just starting to trust me. I’m not going to do that to him. He has enough to deal with without me adding to it.”

  “Okay, good. Obviously, I think you’re the perfect person for him since you can help him with any kind of physical or occupational therapy that he might need at home.” Reesa wrote something in her notes and looked up again. “Now, let’s talk about him. You said he hates the crib. He will sleep out here, though?”

  “Yes. I think it’s the thing about being enclosed. He freaks out in the car seat and high chair, too.”

  “Poor guy. How are his burns?”

  “Better. I’ve been putting the cream on them and they look less angry.”

  “If you can snap some pics and send them to me, that would be good. I have the ones from the hospital, but I’d like photos of his progress. Is he eating okay?”

  “He won’t eat solid food. I had a huge fight with WIC today trying to get them to pay for formula for a three-year-old. I’m going to have to get some documentation from the pediatrician that it’s okay for Levi to take a bottle, at least for now.”

  Reesa looked up. “That really cute pediatrician who came with you to the hospital?”

  “He didn’t come with me.” Jordan scowled. “He met me there.”

  “Mmm-hmm. And what’s going on with you two?”

  “What? Nothing.” Oh, man, she hoped that it wasn’t that obvious that she was so unbelievably awkward around him. She twirled the end of one of her braids around her finger, let it go and then picked it up, wrapping it around her finger again. Then again, maybe she was just awkward in general. “Ash and I—we’re just friends. His brother is married to my sister, that’s all.”

  “He’s really good-looking. Maybe you should start something.” Reesa raised one perfectly manicured, pierced eyebrow.

  Jordan sputtered out a laugh. “That’s entirely inappropriate! And seriously, I’m not his type.”

  “Okay, I hear you.” Reesa closed her notebook. “One last thing. I know Levi just got out of the hospital, but you’ll need to make an appointment and get his intake form filled out by the superhot, there’s-nothing-going-on-there Dr. Sheehan this week.”

  Jordan dug deep to find some peace and took a cleansing breath. She would make it work with her schedule. Somehow. “Of course.”

  “And now, I’m really sorry, but I have to see him awake while I’m here. Can you wake him up?”

  “Yes. He’s been sleeping a lot. He’s healing, for one thing, but I’m not sure he had much restful sleep before. Let me get him a bottle before we wake him. He hasn’t had anything in a couple of hours.” In the kitchen, she got a bottle out of her new stash, quickly mixing six ounces of formula for Levi. “He’s not always happy to see me, so I’m just warning you.”

  “You’re doing a great job with him, Jordan. He’s going to adjust. What are you going to do when you have to go back to work this week?”

  “My hours are flexible and Claire has Mrs. Matthews, who’s agreed to keep him during the day when I have clients. Unfortunately, it will be another adju
stment for him.” Jordan lifted Levi into her arms and tickled his foot to wake him up. He woke up scowling and opened his mouth to scream. She stuck the bottle in it.

  Reesa laughed and gathered her stuff. “Good enough. You’re a natural, but I guess you’ve had some practice with all of Claire’s kids.”

  “I have. Will you keep me posted if there are any changes?”

  “I’ll do my best. And I’ll see you next month if not before.” Reesa let herself out the front door.

  Jordan knew that Reesa meant well, but she also knew that information flowed slowly and usually in one direction in the system, from foster parent to caseworker, not the other way around. She looked into Levi’s big brown eyes, which were focused on hers. “I guess we’ll just have to wait and see. But you don’t have to worry, buddy. We’ll figure it out.”

  She hoped she was telling the truth. She prayed constantly for this sweet baby, who so did not deserve what had happened to him. God, do Your will for him. Make it unmistakable.

  Her phone buzzed on the table beside her. A text from Reesa:

  Don’t forget about the pediatrician.

  As if she could.

  Chapter Four

  Ash stopped at the reception desk. His nurse, Marissa, slid a file to the bottom of the stack on the counter. A grandmotherly woman with a heart of gold, she was the organizational glue that held his practice together. “We have a new patient. Levi Wheeler, three years old.”

  He glanced through the window into the waiting area and saw Jordan with Levi in her arms. He smiled. The other moms were dressed to the nines, having been taught from the cradle—according to his mother—not to leave the house without hair done and lipstick in place. Jordan was herself, boots and flannel, hair tied back, rebellious red curls framing her face. Levi had his head buried in her armpit. “Go ahead and put them in the red room.”