Mac’s Bedside Manner Page 7

  Mac withdrew, closing the door. Rounding the rear of the car quickly, Mac got in behind the wheel. He ran his hand through his hair before turning around. Drops rained everywhere.

  “Everyone set?”

  “Yes.” At a temporary loss, Jolene felt she had to say something. “How did you learn how to work children’s car seat belts?”

  “My sister has kids.” He looked at Amanda. “Comfortable?”

  The little girl nodded, looking at him with wide, interested eyes. A small smile teased her lips. Usually, she was cranky around this time.

  It seemed as if he had charmed both her mother and her daughter. Jolene felt as if she was on the outside, staring in, though she had no intentions of being charmed herself. Charmed was just another term for being blinded and she’d been blinded once before. Still, she felt as if she had to apologize for what he’d just gone through. “I’m sorry about that.”

  Turning back around, Mac turned the key in the ignition and started the car. “About what?”

  “My mother.”

  He laughed. “No reason to be sorry. I thought she was great.” The woman under discussion was standing in the window again. He waved as he pulled out of the driveway. “A lot friendlier than my mother.”

  Friendly wasn’t exactly the word she would have used. “Oh, she’s a blast all right.”

  Signaling, Mac wove his way out of the development. “So you reverted back to your maiden name.”

  Coming out of nowhere, the question left her momentarily confused. “What?”

  “Your mother, she introduced herself as Erika DeLuca.” He paused at an intersection, waiting for the light to turn green. A car flew by, its tires sending up an intense spray of water that splashed across his windshield, making visibility impossible. He flipped the wipers up another notch and they slid madly against the glass. “I thought DeLuca was your married name.”

  “No, it’s not. That was Jeffrey.” She pressed her lips together, wondering why she was even bothering to answer the question. “I wanted to expunge all trace of Matt out of my life after the divorce.” And then she looked at the child in the car seat. Her one ray of sunshine throughout her stormy marriage. “Except for Amanda. She’s the only good thing that came out of that farce.”

  He was silent for a moment and she thought that he’d mercifully retreated into that state. But then he said, “You know, I think it’s time.”

  She stiffened, alert, wary. Telling herself she’d been a fool for trusting him to take her anywhere. “Time? Time for what?”

  “For you to give me your address,” he replied simply. Slowing down by a curb, he turned around to look at her “Unless you want me to drive around aimlessly for the next few hours.”

  Right, she’d forgotten to give him that. “I live on Baylor Street.”

  That was two developments over, in a place whimsically named Serendipity Park. “Any particular house on Baylor Street?”

  Did he enjoy making her feel like she was mentally deficient? “It’s 1242.”

  “Now we’re getting someplace.” He could almost hear her thoughts. “Don’t worry, I won’t sell the address to the highest bidder, or put it on a mailing list. I’ll just post it in an adult chat room—” Raising his eyes to the rearview mirror, he saw the apprehensive look in her eyes. The woman needed to do some serious lightening up. “I’m kidding, Nurse DeLuca.” He paused for a moment, knowing he had no business asking and that she wouldn’t appreciate it. He asked anyway. “Did he take all the humor out of your life?”

  She raised her chin slightly, as if getting ready for an unpleasant confrontation. “He?”

  “Your ex.”

  “No.” And then, for reasons she didn’t fathom and didn’t begin to explore, she relented. “Maybe.”

  Before Mac could ask anything else, Amanda began to whimper and fuss. Looking at her mother, the little girl raised her arms, wanting to be free of her restraints.

  “Oh, hush, sweetie,” Jolene cooed soothingly. “I can’t hold you until we get home, you know that.”

  There was a world of difference in her voice when she spoke to her daughter. He wondered which tone Jolene had used on her husband. It always took two to make a story. “We’re almost there.”

  Her eyes met his in the rearview mirror. “I know how far it is.”

  He sighed softly and shook his head. “You know, Nurse DeLuca, things might go a lot easier for you if you put down that chip.”

  Defensive hackles went up. “What chip?”

  “The one you’re carrying around on your shoulder. It must weigh a ton.”

  What had she been thinking, letting down her guard around this man? “I don’t have a chip on my shoulder.”

  “Then you haven’t been listening to yourself,” he informed her matter-of-factly. “I have and you definitely have a chip, trust me.” He pulled up in the driveway of the darkened house. “Okay, we’re here.”

  She was already undoing Amanda’s restraints. “I recognize my own house, Doctor.”

  He turned around in his seat to look at her. “You know, we’re off duty now. You can call me Mac.”

  She refused the invitation, knowing it would lead to other things—or so he probably hoped. She had no desire to be a scalp on his belt or another notch on his bedpost or however he kept track of the women in his life. “That’s too personal.”

  “All right, you can call me Harrison if that makes you happy.”

  She eased Amanda out of her seat. The little girl threw her arms around her neck and then turned her face toward Mac, bright curiosity in her eyes.

  “Why should that make me happy?”

  He grinned, his smile just the slightest bit lopsided. “Because I hate being called Harrison.”

  Well, that worked for her. “Harrison it is.” And then, maybe because of the tension that had been dancing through her, or maybe because the situation struck her as ludicrous, Jolene laughed.

  The sound was a pleasing one. “She laughs.” Dramatically, Mac laid a hand to his chest. “My God, you are human.”

  “Yeah.” She thought of her years with Matt and how much she’d loved him. How much she’d been willing to overlook—until he had cut up her heart. “That was the whole problem.” And then she shook off her mood. “But I solved it.”

  He looked at her with interest, trying to fathom the way her mind worked. “You’re not human anymore?”

  “Not around people who could hurt me.” She looked at him pointedly.

  Getting out of the car, Mac came around to her side and opened the door for her. He tried to help her out, but she avoided taking his hand.

  “I won’t hurt you, Jolene.”

  She tossed her head. It was raining again and she huddled Amanda to her. “Damn straight you won’t. And do you want to know why?”

  “Because I’m a nice guy?”

  “No, because I won’t let you.” With that, she hurried up the steps to her front door.

  Mac realized she’d forgotten the car seat. Reaching in, he quickly unhooked it and then hurried after her.

  She was still trying to get her keys out. “I think you have the wrong idea about me, Jolene.”

  “No, I don’t.” Holding Amanda to her, she unlocked the door with her other hand. She glanced at the seat he was holding. Damn, she’d forgotten about that. “You can put that down right there.” She nodded at the front step.

  “I’ll bring it in for you,” he offered.

  Pushing the door open with her elbow, still holding Amanda, she turned and took the seat from him. It wasn’t easy.

  “No,” she replied. “You won’t. Thanks for the ride.” With that, she shut the door on him.

  Mac stood looking at the door for a long moment. “You’re welcome,” he said before he finally turned away.

  That is one strange lady, he thought as he walked back to his car.

  Chapter Six

  Jolene sat in the gazebo in her mother’s backyard, watching Amanda play in the san
dbox her grandmother had bought for the little girl when they’d moved back down here. The rains that had been plaguing the area all month had taken a temporary holiday, promising to return on Monday.

  But for now they had the weekend and her mother had invited them over for Sunday brunch and conversation. Jolene and Amanda ate, her mother talked. It seemed an equitable division of labor agreeable to all.

  Until her mother changed topics on her, commenting on Harrison MacKenzie and, armed with the best of intentions, innocently disturbing an area Jolene had been trying to avoid.

  Since he’d brought her home that night, there had been a shift in the way she felt as she navigated her way through each day. It was as if she was constantly on pins and needles, waiting for something to happen. She had no idea what, all she knew was that she didn’t like feeling this way.

  Nothing was going to happen, she insisted silently, toying with a mug of coffee her mother had whipped up. Not if she kept her defenses up and her head on straight.

  Defenses. She supposed it all boiled down to MacKenzie. He was at the bottom of this unsettled feeling she was trying to bury. But just because the man had a few good qualities didn’t change the fact that he had the morals of a tomcat. Given half a chance, he would pull rank like any other doctor. Anyway you sliced it, she thought, the man was bad news.

  Erika felt she’d been patient long enough, skating around the topic like an Olympic gold medalist, giving her daughter ample opportunity to say something. Instead Jo had said nothing. But then, Jo had always been stubborn, even as a little girl.

  It was time for direct questions.

  Erika raised her mug nonchalantly, her eyes watching Jolene over the rim. “So, have you gotten together with that nice young doctor since he took you and Amanda home last week?”

  “Most doctors aren’t nice, Mother.”

  Erika knew her daughter’s philosophy about doctors, even shared it to some extent. It was hard not to, given the years Erika had spent as a nurse. There were those doctors who believed their degree allowed them to sail in, pontificate, then leave the nurses to clean up whatever needed cleaning in their wake. But, unlike Jolene, she didn’t believe that all doctors were created smug.

  Jolene’s mother took a sip of her coffee before saying, “This one was.”

  “How can you tell? You hardly met him.”

  Erika smiled. The young doctor had been sexy straight down to his toes. If she was twenty-five years younger, she would have given him a tumble herself. “He has nice eyes.”

  Jolene put her cup down on the table. “So does Lassie. You don’t see me running off with Lassie, do you?”

  Erika shrugged. Jolene was being obstinate again, but two could play that game. “Wrong sex, wrong species.”

  Jolene laughed shortly. “I could say the same about Harrison MacKenzie.”

  Erika stared at her daughter, trying to follow the conversation. “He’s a woman?”

  “No.” Her mother knew damn well what she was saying. “Wrong species—specifically, a doctor.”

  “That’s not a species.”

  “No,” Jolene agreed, “it’s a condition, a condition I want no part of. We’ve already had a doctor in the family this generation, Mother,” Jolene said, lowering her voice so that Amanda didn’t hear. The little girl was only two, but she was taking no chances. Jolene figured that it was better to be safe than sorry. Matt might be a rat, but he was rat who was a father and Amanda could make up her own mind about his rodentlike qualities when she was old enough. “And just look how that turned out.”

  Erika didn’t believe in sweeping generalities. “Just because the man you married turned out to be Dr. Strangelove—”

  This was her whole point. “Yes, but when I brought him home, you liked him.”

  “Actually, I didn’t.”

  Jolene looked at her in surprise.

  “It was the way he looked at your cousin Shirley—” Erika elaborated.

  Her mother had said some choice things when the divorce had gotten underway, but Jolene had no idea that her mother hadn’t liked Matt to begin with. “Why didn’t you say something to me?”

  “Because you would have said I was meddling.” Erika knew her daughter inside and out. “The way you’re about to now.”

  Because it was her mother and because there was love involved, Jolene surrendered. Kind of. “There’s no winning with you, is there?”

  Erika picked up one of the chocolate chip cookies she’d baked earlier. The cookie wasn’t much to look at, but it tasted like a chocoholic’s idea of heaven.

  “Funny, I feel the same way sometimes when I talk to you.” With a fond smile she looked at her granddaughter who was busy pouring buckets of sand on her legs. “And just wait until she starts talking in full sentences. One of her first will be ‘bug off, Mom.”’

  Picking up her mug again, Jolene took another sip of coffee. The foam was beginning to fade. “People don’t say ‘bug off,’ anymore, Mother.”

  Erika raised one shoulder in a half shrug. “Whatever the modern equivalent of that’ll be, I guarantee you she’ll say it. And you’ll shake your head and wonder whatever possessed you to give up your figure for nine months and become a mother in the first place.” A fond smile flittered across her lips. “And then out of the blue, you’ll get a messy hug and you’ll remember.” Getting up to go inside and refill her mug, Erika kissed her daughter’s head. “Remember, light of my life, not all doctors were created equal. This one deserves a chance.”

  They weren’t going to see eye to eye on this. “He’s practically slept with every nurse under forty.”

  The news didn’t faze Erika, but she sincerely doubted its validity. “Good, then he’s gotten it out of his system and he’s ready to settle down and be a good, faithful husband.”

  Some men never settled down. Her mother knew that, so why was she pushing MacKenzie’s cause? “Doesn’t your plane ever land?”

  Erika patted her shoulder. “Several times, dear. Just long enough to take on new passengers, refuel and fly again.” She lowered her head down to Jolene’s level. “Come fly with me.”

  Jolene shook her head. Her mother was an incorrigible romantic and an optimist to boot. You would have thought she would have known better. “Thanks, but I’d rather be grounded.”

  Erika laughed as she walked into the house, mug in hand. She recalled Jolene as a teenager and how many times grounding had been necessary back then. “Now there’s something I never thought I’d live to hear.”

  It had been a busy week. Almost too busy. Mac had volunteered to fill in for a friend laid low by appendicitis. That, plus his own workload and the rotation at the hospital had left him little time for speculating about the petite nurse with the huge green eyes and even bigger attitude.

  But he caught his mind wandering to her every so often, when there was a lull.

  However, those lulls were precious and few. After threatening Tommy Edward’s stepfather with filing a complaint with the police about the dog, he’d finally managed to get the man to come in and talk to him. Nothing short of the man’s love for his dog had budged him or convinced him to listen.

  Even as he listened, Paul Allen looked as if he didn’t believe anything he was being told. The man was the soul of skepticism. He’d learned long ago there was no such thing as a free lunch. Even samples came at a cost.

  “Why would you do that for me?” the man had demanded gruffly when Mac finished explaining the paperwork that would have to be filed with the hospital’s administrative department in order to cover the cost of the surgery. Mac had promised that the operation would take place despite the fact that there wasn’t any insurance coverage. Allen was a self-employed contractor and business had been slow. He’d allowed his individual policy to lapse.

  Mac didn’t dislike many people, but he disliked this man. Intensely. “I’m not doing it for you, Allen. I’m doing it for Tommy.” He looked at the boy and smiled. Tommy looked apprehensive, Mac thought
, as if he was afraid that the operation wouldn’t be performed. That the plug would be pulled.

  Not going to happen, Tommy, Mac promised silently, his eyes conveying the message.

  Allen’s expression indicated that he was still far from turning into a believer. “Okay, why are you doing it for the kid? He’s nothing to you.”

  Mac saw Tommy cringe at the harsh statement. In response, he motioned Tommy over and let him climb up on his knee.

  “You’re wrong there. He’s one less child who has to suffer because of something that can be corrected. If I have the ability to do that for him, to ease his pain, then I’m going to.”

  Allen’s lip curled in contemptuous disbelief. “For free.”

  Maybe it was charity the man objected to. Mac had already reviewed the hospital’s policy in these cases for him. “You pay what you can.”

  Allen held up his hands, stopping him. “Whoa, I can’t pay anything. I’m still paying off my car. There’s no money to spare.” His tone indicated that his words were final. There was no room for argument, no room for adjustment.

  Terse words rose to Mac’s tongue all centered on his opinion of the kind of man who cared more about having four wheels than easing the mental anguish of a child he’d been entrusted with, but he let them go. Being confrontational with Tommy’s stepfather wouldn’t do Tommy any good.

  Even if punching Allen in his perfect nose would have made him feel a hell of a lot better.

  He was in dire need of working off the full head of steam he’d worked up, Mac thought. It was getting harder and harder keeping his fists from making contact with Allen’s face. Which was why he made tracks for the gym the moment Tommy and his stepfather left.

  Blair Memorial maintained a state-of-the-art gym on the premises. It was located in the basement and was outfitted with all the latest equipment. The gym had been a gift from Rudolph Heinman, a former patient who had also served as the training guru for several generations of men and women who ached to be, if not Adonises and Venuses, then at least physically fit. Heinman had been admitted to Blair seven years ago to be treated for cancer. After undergoing an aggressive program, his case went into remission, eventually disappearing totally.