Assignment- Baby Read online

  "Here," he said. "I snagged you a cup of coffee from the employee lounge. You look like you need it."

  "Oh, thanks. But you have it."

  "You're saying no to coffee? Are you the same woman who used to savor that first cup every day?"

  She gave a lifeless smile that didn't come close to her eyes. "Now I only do decaf."

  That was certainly a change. Something wasn't right, and he had strong suspicions it had nothing to do with the coffee.

  "Is something bothering you?" He took a sip rather than waste the drink.

  "What? Oh, no." She reached for the stack of neatly piled charts on her desk and took the next one.

  "You seem upset about something. It's me, isn't it?"

  Her shoulders slumped and she stopped thumbing through the charts. "Men." She sighed. She thinned her lips and shook her head. "You're not the center of my universe, Hunter."

  To lighten things up, he feigned a wound to the heart and waited for her to unwind a bit. "What is it, then? Is there something I can help you with?"

  "Do you really need to know? We're nothing more than business associates. Remember?"

  In other words…back off. Hunter nodded knowingly. "Gotcha." He reached for his next patient's chart and made some preliminary notes on the form to distract himself as Mandy's words echoed in his head. We're nothing more than business associates.

  * * *

  By lunchtime they'd each performed ten physicals. Amanda hoped she could set up the participants with the overnight halter monitors quickly. She wanted to leave early to rest a bit before her Urgent Care duty, which began at seven. Hunter had told her he had a late-afternoon clinic scheduled back at Mercy Hospital.

  In light of her recent diagnosis, she knew she needed to stay calm and get more rest, but life wasn't exactly cooperating. She'd had palpitations a couple of times already this morning, and couldn't afford to keep feeling so stressed. If she didn't watch out she would wind up back in the ER. And then where would her Mending Hearts Club program be?

  And Hunter. How was she supposed to handle working with him every day, pretending she was fine with it, and that her heart didn't still have a gaping wound where he was concerned? The smell of his aftershave reminded her how, when they'd first broken up, she'd bought his brand and sniffed it like potpourri. Then cried until her nose was congested and she couldn't smell anymore. How pitiful was that?

  Amanda sat at her desk, cradling her forehead in her hands. Sophie was quiet, and Amanda had been so wrapped up in her thoughts she'd forgotten the baby was even there. Was that treating her like a houseplant? She glanced into the playpen. Sophie had fallen asleep; no wonder she hadn't noticed her. The nap probably had to do with the soothing nocturne now playing on Hunter's laptop. Too bad it hadn't helped her headache.

  "There's nothing like Chopin's piano pieces to massage the nerves." Hunter's distinct masculine voice as he entered the room made Amanda gasp and jerk her head up. "I'm sorry," he said. "I didn't mean to startle you."

  "I'm just a bit edgy," she said. "I don't recall you being a Chopin man."

  "You're looking at the new and improved version of me."

  "Yeah? Well, for the record, I liked your old nose better." Why did his mere presence make her feel so testy?

  Taking her rebuke in his stride, Hunter sat and hitched half his mouth into a smile, then rubbed the bump on the bridge of his nose. "Yeah? Well, I got it defending myself against a gang of hoodlums."

  "Really?" she said flatly.

  "Must have been a dozen of them. Came at me from all angles."

  "Uh-huh." His efforts at lightening her mood failed miserably.

  "And they were huge."

  She avoided looking at him, fearing she might crack a smile.

  After a moment, he rolled his chair next to hers. He had that I've-been-thinking look in his eyes.

  When they'd been married, and they'd had a problem to solve, he'd withdraw for anywhere from a few hours to a few days—then suddenly resurface with that exact expression to present his fail-safe plan. The problem was, she'd rarely agreed with his solutions.

  Well, here he was beside her, looking that way again, and she wondered what great insight he was about to share.

  "I've been thinking," he said.

  She almost smiled.

  He touched her hand with one finger, causing an unwanted spark of warmth on the underside of her wrist.

  He gave an understanding nod. "This is a bizarre situation, given our history, but if we keep reminding ourselves it's strictly a professional association, things should work out. I admit that seeing you has been a shock, and you've admitted it was the same for you, but we'll get used to being around each other again." He rested his hand on hers and looked into her eyes. She blinked. "Let's just keep focused on why we're here. This is for Joel and my father—and whatever reason you're working so passionately for."

  She'd resisted that tingle at first contact by tricking herself into thinking it was a fluke. Her hand had been cold, and that was why she'd felt it. That was all. But now, with his hand on top of hers, the unsettled feeling made her want to squirm. The touch crept up the surface of her skin as if a cool breath tickled the inside of her elbow. It had been hard enough facing him after years of separation; now, adding this innocent touch, it all felt far too intimate. She couldn't let herself go there.

  "Mandy, you're not the only one feeling all mixed up."

  "I realize that," she said, removing her hand and diverting her eyes. Had he read her mind?

  When had they changed places? Wasn't she the one who'd used to initiate enlightening conversations and he who had given curt replies? Maybe his nose wasn't all that had changed.

  Having a sudden need to move away from him, she reached for the intercom and asked the receptionist to send the first patient in for halter monitor application. While she waited, she continued to avoid his gaze by pretending to read the patient's chart. She couldn't decipher a single word.

  "Hello, Mrs. Drake." Amanda stood and gestured for the patient to sit at the chair in front of her desk. "Are you ready to wear the halter all night?"

  "Will it get really irritating when I try to sleep?"

  "Maybe a little, but you'll survive."

  "Okay, I'll give it a shot," the round, middle-aged lady replied cheerfully.

  Amanda assisted the woman by applying the EKG leads after the patient had opened her blouse. She removed the monitor from its portable pocket and unwrapped the wires, before connecting it to the leads on Mrs. Drake, then she put the device back into its halter pocket for easy traveling. She'd analyze the findings tomorrow, along with all of the others.

  Demonstrating his somewhat improved caregiver skills, Hunter removed Sophie's bottle of formula from the portable bottle warmer—which Mandy had helped him set up—and checked the contents for heat level on the inside of his wrist, as previously instructed by Mandy, before giving it to his niece. Amanda tried her best not to notice, but the office was so small.

  While she received her next patient, and the baby gulped her meal, he quietly packed up all of his paraphernalia, picked up Sophie, and left the clinic without so much as a nod or a goodbye.

  Amanda refused to be affected. Would she expect anything more from any other colleague? After all, she'd been busy with a patient. If Dr. Beiderman had become her mentor and had left without saying goodbye, would she feel slighted? Not at all. Business associates had schedules to keep regardless of social niceties. That was the frame of mind she must keep while dealing with Hunter—strictly professional.

  So what was this empty feeling settling into the center of her chest? And why did the office seem so dead and lifeless now?

  She shook her head, refusing to go down that old and familiar road. Instead, she decided that if she were going to survive the Mending Hearts Club program, she'd need rules. Rules to keep things in perspective. She called for her next patient and while she waited scribbled a short list, just like she used to do. She pla
nned to run it by Hunter tomorrow.

  * * *

  Hunter tossed his briefcase on his desk, slid into the cushy leather chair and rubbed his neck. The freeway drive back to Mercy Hospital had been bumper to bumper, and Sophie had wailed most of the way. This time music hadn't calmed her down. He felt the tension right…there. Ah.

  Thankfully Sophie had slept for the last part of the drive, but how long would she tolerate being cooped up in her car seat on a daily basis? And when he was finally able to contact Jade, how would he explain his three-hour round-trip commute? She would not approve.

  If there'd been any way to avoid taking on his niece, he would have suggested it. But Jade would never have considered leaving her baby with their mother, and Hunter would never expect her to. He ground his teeth, wishing Jade had at least one girlfriend she trusted as much as him.

  For now his medical assistant, Maria, a short, plump woman with a gentle spirit, a contagious smile and a penchant for babies, had Sophie at her workstation while he prepared for his jam-packed afternoon clinic. He'd never be able to thank her enough. She bounced the baby on her knee until Hunter heard his niece's hearty belly laugh. It should have made him smile.

  He bored a hole into the dark mahogany wood with his stare while he rubbed his temples and tried not to think about Mandy.

  The commute had zapped his energy, too. Instinctively he reached for his earphones and plugged them in. He'd listen to Wagner's Ride of the Valkyries for a quick boost of energy.

  Three months ago he'd taken Jade to music therapy for her depression. It hadn't helped her one iota, but through music he'd gotten in touch with his deepest feelings and, though shocking at first, had discovered his true gifts as a doctor.

  The music therapy instructor had said he was a wounded healer, intuitive and caring. Yeah, he'd thought, with a wry smile, next he'd be reading his horoscope. Truth was, with the help of carefully chosen music, he'd noticed he could change Sophie's moods as much as his own. And if he could calm a baby down with music, wouldn't daily music and relaxation be beneficial for the heart study patients, too? He wondered if it might have helped his father.

  Already Mandy's project mattered to him. He wanted to be useful, not a distraction for her. Maybe if she could put the past aside and see how sincere he was in wanting to help, they could pull this project off. But if their being thrown together felt one-tenth as hard for her as it did for him, he knew it wouldn't be easy.

  Maria tapped on his door and, with Sophie contentedly resting on her hip, handed him his first afternoon appointment chart. She should be getting double salary for helping out, but after today he'd be out of the clinic until the Mending Hearts Club study was over, and she'd be working for Dr. Jimenez.

  Fifteen minutes later, Hunter palpated his patient's left lower quadrant and determined that he no longer had tenderness from his diverticulitis flare-up. Last week the same patient had been doubled over in pain and begging to be hospitalized. A forty-eight-hour clear liquid diet and two different antibiotics had helped his condition miraculously in one short week.

  He glanced at the patient's wife. She'd accompanied her husband last week for the visit, but Hunter had been totally preoccupied with his sick patient. He squinted, and looked at her again.

  "Are you aware your thyroid is enlarged?" Why hadn't he noticed that slight asymmetry before?

  Her hand flew to her neck, as if to check for herself.

  "You can get dressed now," Hunter said to the man. "But take every single pill until they're gone, in order not to have rebound diverticulitis or to develop a drug-resistant strain of infection."

  The patient nodded.

  Hunter washed his hands. "Let me take a look," he said, turning to the wife.

  Using his fingertips, he lightly palpated the area overlying her larynx and found a small but firm nodule. "Does this hurt?"

  She shook her head, but alarm registered in her stare.

  "Swallow?"

  She complied. The nodule was fixed to the right lobe of the thyroid.

  He felt for nearby enlarged lymph nodes, but didn't find any. A good sign. "Have you been feeling any different?"

  "No."

  "I'm going to order some lab work today, and a thyroid scan as soon as possible."

  "What's wrong with me?"

  "You have a small mass on your thyroid. It could be nothing, but it's best to check it out. I'll be out of the clinic for the next few weeks, but my colleague, Dr. Jimenez, will follow up on the lab results. If anything shows up on the scan, I'll be in touch ASAP, and we'll go from there."

  He ordered the lab tests and thyroid scan via the portable laptop computer in the exam room. He should instruct Maria to add the extra patient visit to his schedule, in order to charge for it, but the numbers game had never mattered to him. As long as Mrs. Peters got the medical attention she needed he'd be satisfied.

  Hunter glanced at his watch. He was already a half hour behind schedule and he had only just started his clinic. It would be a long afternoon.

  He rushed back into his office to find Sophie sound asleep in her portable bed. She looked so vulnerable, and she deserved better than this, but his sister had insisted he was the only person she trusted with her baby. For the life of him he couldn't understand why.

  Maria appeared at his door, handing him another chart. Starting tomorrow, to make life easier for Sophie, he might have to find somewhere closer to Serena Vista to stay. Maybe one of those extended-stay hotels during the week, and then he could go home on the weekends. Didn't nine-month-old babies need to crawl and explore, not sit in a car half the day? If it was just him making the commute, he could handle it, but guilt over his sorely lacking parenting skills had him promising he wouldn't let little Sophie suffer another day.

  * * *

  The next morning Amanda lifted her gaze from the EKG she'd been analyzing at her desk. She quickly scribbled NSR by the patient's name on the list. Normal sinus rhythm.

  Hunter appeared in the office doorway thirty minutes late. Again. Sophie gnawed on his chin as he held her in his arms. "I have an idea," he said.

  "You're late," Amanda replied with a no-nonsense glance.

  He briskly entered the room and unloaded Sophie's belongings onto his desk. "Sorry. Traffic's a nightmare."

  She felt a guilty twinge about being annoyed, but refused to let on.

  "Sophie's been a grump all morning, too," he said.

  Mandy bristled at his underhanded comment on her mood, but again didn't react.

  The sturdy baby sucked on two fingers and looked innocently up at him. "You've been grumpy, haven't you, kid?" He crossed his eyes and made a muffled elephant sound with his lips, which got a giggle out of her. She swatted at his mouth with her slippery fingers. He repeated the goofy process several more times, nibbling her fingertips in between, until she latched onto his chin again and gummed him up something fierce. "I don't have a clue why she likes this, but I've discovered she does, and if it keeps her from crying, my chin is hers."

  Amanda fought off a pang of regret for giving him such a hard time. Being a stand-in father had to be a shock for him. But from the looks of things it was becoming second nature, whether he realized it or not.

  "You said you had an idea?" she asked.

  He plopped Sophie down into her playpen and wiped the drool off his face and jacket. "Music therapy."

  "Music what?"

  "You know—soothing music to help our patients release stress."

  Our patients? He'd definitely come on board with her project. "You mean like with meditation?"

  "Exactly. We could assign them ten to fifteen minutes of quiet music meditation every morning. It might help bring down their blood pressure."

  She thought for a moment. "It wouldn't hurt."

  "Great," he said, practically straightening his collar and preening. "I'll put together a list of composers and burn twenty CDs."

  "Sounds good."

  Sophie glanced up from her playpen a
nd squealed a hello, obviously glad to see Mandy.

  "What's up, Soph?" The baby made a series of gurgles, blew some bubbles, and ended by giving Amanda a raspberry.

  "I think she wants you to pick her up," Hunter said with a smile.

  She didn't take the challenge.

  There he was, standing too close again, looking handsome in his white doctor's coat and a piercing silver-blue tie. He'd styled his thick brown hair so that it stood up on the top of his head. It gave him a whimsical appeal—until she glanced into his dark, sexy eyes and suddenly remembered he could also be dangerous. She didn't linger there. She couldn't.

  He'd shaved close, except for a small patch just beneath his lower lip—had she noticed that before? She had an unwanted desire to touch it. What would he think if he knew she'd resorted to all but wearing his brand of cologne after he'd moved out to help her feel less lonely?

  He inclined his head the slightest bit, studying her, sizing her up, as he'd used to when they were married. He lifted a brow. "Am I making you nervous?" A look of satisfaction stretched across his face.

  She brushed him off. When had he become an expert at reading body language? "Not at all." She turned and flipped the desk calendar to today's date—once again all business. "All we have to do today is collect the halter monitor data and analyze it."

  She couldn't even glance at him. Instead she pretended to be completely engrossed in the preplanned schedule. "Oh, and don't forget to collect their daily diet journals when you remove the halter monitors."

  "Will do." He strolled back to his desk, picked up a piece of paper, returned and handed it to her. "Here's mine. Where's yours? I want to make sure you're getting enough calories."

  She pushed his list away. "You don't have to report to me."

  "The syllabus says everyone will participate in the activities. Hand yours over." He motioned with his fingers.

  "I…I don't have it."

  He raised a playful brow. "Naughty, naughty."

  Too young to have hot flashes, she was swiftly burning up. Why was he tormenting her?

  "Mandy's not playing fair, Sophie," he teased, picking up the baby, who had now pulled herself to stand in the playpen. Sophie smothered his mouth with her hands. He kept talking, but Amanda couldn't make out one single syllable.