When the Right One Comes Along

  “You’ll go away, too! The other man in the white coat said you’re not my doctor when I asked.”

  “Yes, but...” She was about to promise she’d come back, but as Kayla had just pointed out, the girl wasn’t her patient and she had no business being in the pediatric ward.

  Kayla’s tears spilled over, and Jessica gathered her in her arms.

  “Hey, don’t cry,” Jessica repeated as she held the small quivering body against her. She squeezed her eyes shut, feeling the little girl’s pain, and wishing she had the power to make everything right in her world. “I’ll come back to see you,” she vowed, knowing she could give her at least that much. She knew she shouldn’t, but she didn’t feel she had a choice. This child needed all the love and support she could get.

  “Promise?” Kayla asked through muffled sobs.

  “I promise.”

  Jessica stayed with Kayla until the tears subsided and a nurse came to check her vitals. Just before she left, Kayla asked about Cal again.

  Jessica considered Calen Palmer as she walked back down the stairs and considered whether it would be appropriate to tell him about Kayla. Kids and dogs had an uncanny ability to see past the superficial and into a person’s soul. What did Kayla see in the man that she herself had missed? She was sure he was good at his job and he cared about his dog, but she’d mostly seen attitude and belligerence at the site of the earthquake, directed almost solely at her. She knew she was a natural caretaker, which was both a positive and negative for her as a doctor; perhaps it had been nothing more than her need to help him that had created such antagonism. Until...until she was at his house and she’d seen a warmth, a sense of humor, even a bit of playfulness when she was leaving, that had drawn her.

  But those moments, the flicker of humor and warmth, were fleeting. He’d been angry and unpleasant, and that should’ve been daunting and even a little scary for a child. But not for Kayla. Kayla had obviously seen something more.

  She hadn’t realized she’d turned down the corridor leading to the hospital’s administrative wing until she reached the executive offices. Seeing the hospital’s chief of medical staff in his office, she knocked lightly on the doorframe to get his attention. “Do you have a minute, Richard?” she asked when he glanced up from his papers.

  “Sure. Come in.”

  “I have a favor to ask.”

  “What is it?”

  “I’d like to stay primary for one of the patients I triaged at the earthquake site,” she explained. She hadn’t given herself the chance to think about what she planned to do until she saw Richard. Now that the words were out of her mouth, she wondered if she’d lost her mind. Judging by the look on his face, Richard was probably having the same thought.

  “It’s...a little unusual but not out of the question. Tell me why you believe it’s in the patient’s best interests.”

  She had to give Richard full marks for as always thinking of the patient first. That was her priority, too, of course. “I’m concerned about potential internal trauma.”

  Richard’s expression was skeptical. “We have any number of doctors who can deal with that. Your skills and capabilities are better used in your own area.”

  “In this case, there are...” She was about to say “complications,” but that wasn’t accurate. Not in a medical sense. Her assessment remained what it had been at the triage site—Kayla was going to be fine.

  “What aren’t you telling me, Jess? We’ve known each other long enough that you can level with me. Are you worried about the competence of another doctor on staff?”

  She thought about the attending pediatrician, Michael Whitby, not ordering the contrast CT, but she couldn’t say he wasn’t competent. “No. It’s not that. I’d just like to see this patient through.”

  “All right. Let’s try this. Who’s the patient?”

  “Kayla Hernandez.”

  Richard turned to his computer and called up Kayla’s file. After a quick perusal, he turned back to Jessica, his face grim. “Are you sure about this?”

  Jessica swallowed the lump in her throat. She merely nodded, since she didn’t trust herself to speak.

  “Jess...she’s a child.”

  This time, she managed to find her voice. “I’m well aware of that.”

  Richard looked at her for so long she wanted to shout that she’d changed her mind.

  “Okay,” he finally said. “I’ll talk to Allison,” he said, referring to the head of pediatrics.

  “Thank you.”

  “Jessica, let’s make sure neither of us regrets this. If you feel you’re not up to it, if you have any reservations, come and see me right away. Understood?”

  Jessica only nodded. Her voice seemed to have deserted her again.

  CHAPTER NINE

  CAL STOOD BESIDE his car trying to figure out if he’d be able to drive with his good leg. When he’d left Lincoln, he’d gone a little crazy and bought the Porsche 911 Carrera Cabriolet. His ex-wife hadn’t liked sports cars. In any case, he would never have spent that kind of money on himself while he was married. It had been a rebellion of sorts when his marriage had ended.

  He’d been tinkering with the car ever since. It remained a symbol for him, and he refused to get rid of it, no matter how much time and money it was costing him. The car was a work in progress and in need of a paint job, as Jessica had aptly pointed out, but man, it was fast.

  He loved the two-seater, convertible sports car, but now he cursed it silently as he tried to get into the driver’s seat. With his height and bulk, the car was a tight fit at the best of times; right now, he was at a distinct disadvantage.

  He managed to slide in with his injured leg, and once inside, he realized that it would be unwise and probably impossible to drive until he’d completely healed. The manual transmission only complicated matters. Having shoehorned himself into the car with considerable pain, he was faced with trying to extricate himself without fainting from the agony.

  He’d just made it, and was hunched over, taking rapid shallow breaths, when he heard a car approach.

  Glancing up, he watched his brother pull his SUV into the driveway. Cal raised his eyebrows when Drew stepped out. “What happened to you?”

  His brother sported a black eye and a jagged scrape across his forehead.

  Drew let Scout out of the back of the vehicle and held the leash out to his brother. “He’s what happened to me.”

  Cal’s shock must have shown on his face and he dropped a hand protectively on Scout’s head. “He attacked you?”

  Drew chuckled awkwardly. “No. That might be a little less embarrassing.”

  Cal led his brother up the steps and into the house. “Are you okay if I let Scout off his leash?” he asked cautiously.

  “Oh, yeah.”

  “What happened?”

  “Can I have a beer first?”

  “Sure.” Cal unclipped Scout’s leash and turned toward the kitchen.

  “No, no.” Drew cast an anxious look at Scout. “You go sit down. I’ll get it.”

  Drew returned with two beers and a bag of pretzels, handed one bottle to Cal and sat on a chair.

  “So, what happened?” Cal repeated.

  “Well, he’s a search-and-rescue dog, through and through.”

  Cal gave his brother a quizzical frown.

  Drew took a sip of his beer. “I misplaced my iPhone and couldn’t find it. I looked and looked. Scout here—” he gestured to the dog sleeping innocently at Cal’s feet “—I let him scent the case and he found the phone, no problem. It must’ve been in the pocket of my jeans, because he found it in my laundry hamper—after pulling out all my laundry, scattering it over my apartment and chewing a hole in the pocket of my best jeans. But after he found it, would he give me the phone? Noooo.”


  Cal worked hard to keep from laughing or even smiling. He could tell his brother wasn’t amused, and he didn’t want to exacerbate the situation. “Drew, all you had to do was tell him, ‘Out.’”

  “Do you think I could remember that? The more I tried to get him to release the phone, the more he seemed to think it was a game. I chased him...” He raised his hands defensively. “I know. I know. I shouldn’t have chased him. But he had my iPhone.”

  Cal was trying to be compassionate. He really was. After all, Drew was doing him a big favor, but he struggled to control his merriment at the thought of his brother chasing Scout around the apartment, knowing he wouldn’t have had a chance of catching him. “And how does that explain the, uh, damage?” he asked with as straight a face as he could manage.

  Drew took another drink, then held the cold bottle against his bruised eye. “I tripped on the edge of the carpet, hit my head on the arm of the sofa, and when I tried to break my fall with my left arm, I scratched my forehead with my watch.”

  “You look...you look like you walked into a wall!” He couldn’t hold back the laughter any longer.

  “Thanks for the sympathy, Cal. If you think I look bad, you should see my living room.”

  Andrew acted completely put-upon and Cal tried again to contain his laughter.

  Then the humor faded abruptly.

  The one night Scout had spent with his brother had obviously been a disaster. His brother was clearly unable to assert his dominance over the strong-minded dog. He doubted Drew would take Scout back, and he already knew Drew wouldn’t want to stay with him in his small house. Cal was back to square one.

  “Drew, you wouldn’t consider...”

  “No!” Drew cut him off. “I know what you’re going to ask. I wanted to help out. I really did, but look at me! I’m not an animal person to begin with. You knew that going in and we just proved it conclusively. And he...” Drew pointed at Scout, snoring at Cal’s feet. “He’s not a normal dog. I swear he’s smarter than I am. I’m sure he thought it was a game, and I’m convinced he enjoyed taunting me.”

  Cal chuckled again, but knew he had a problem. “Just walk him for me tonight and tomorrow morning. It shouldn’t be a great hardship for you to sleep here for one night. I’ll buy you dinner, if you’re okay with delivery. I’ll figure something out by tomorrow.”

  “Okay,” was the resigned answer. “But that’s it. One night. I feel bad for you, Cal. If there’s anything else I can do, let me know. But I can’t help with Scout.”

  After dinner, Drew took Scout for a long walk and settled down on the sofa for the night. Cal had offered his bedroom but Drew refused it because of Cal’s injury.

  Cal lay in bed, staring up at the ceiling, trying to decide what to do. Scout didn’t like being locked up in the concrete cage at the division, and Cal didn’t want to do that to him. He couldn’t imagine how Scout would react to being in there for weeks, not just a day. He hoped he wouldn’t end up having to leave him there.

  He considered hiring a dog walker, but dismissed the thought. Scout required special handling, and it wasn’t advisable to walk him with other dogs he wasn’t familiar with.

  He circled back to the only option he had for Scout. He’d have to take him back to the division. He hated the idea but didn’t see a way around it.

  Maybe he could manage by himself. He moved slightly without thinking, and reflexively arched his back and grabbed his leg in an effort to ease the pain.

  That answers that, he thought ruefully, once the ache had subsided.

  He should’ve been honest with Logan and asked for his help to work something out. He had no choice now. He’d have to talk to Logan, appeal to him. With that resolved in his mind, another thought occurred to him. He worried about Logan’s reaction to the fact that he hadn’t been entirely truthful. Trust was a key element in their relationship and he’d misrepresented the facts. He’d have to come clean and let Logan know that his brother wasn’t capable of taking care of Scout, despite his assurances. The alternative was to make up an excuse, but then he’d only be compounding the lie.

  He’d just been written up for insubordination with respect to a direct command, which Logan was angry enough about, and now he’d misrepresented his circumstances to his captain. Yes, misleading him was a minor infraction, but Cal was afraid it would result in a second blot on his record. He worried about the possible impact while he was still in his probationary period. He wondered again if the painkillers were scrambling his mind, since part of him was questioning whether it really was that big a deal. He didn’t have an answer.

  Yeah, it was all small stuff, and maybe it was the pain meds that made him see everything in a negative light, but his worries seemed to be growing.

  * * *

  JESSICA KNEW SHE shouldn’t be doing it. Kayla should not have been her patient. She’d barely assumed that responsibility and already she was questioning everything she was doing. Whitby hadn’t taken it well, and was less than cordial. He’d even made a snide remark under his breath so only she would hear, reminding her about Jake.

  Not that Jessica needed the reminder. Jake was the reason Jessica had left pediatric surgery in favor of trauma. She’d voluntarily put herself back in the situation she’d been trying to avoid. She’d broken her own rule with Kayla. She was caring for another child and getting too close to her—getting emotionally involved with her.

  Trying to look at it from the positive side, she told herself that maybe this was an opportunity to overcome her phobia. But the negative voice in her head taunted her. What if she messed up again? Kayla would pay the price.

  Jessica rubbed her eyelids with her fingertips. This certainly wasn’t starting well. She needed to pull herself together; otherwise, she wouldn’t be any good for Kayla...and possibly anyone else.

  She’d made the decision to keep Kayla in the hospital for a couple of reasons. Social Services’ inability to locate family and the time required to find her a foster home was one reason. The mother had reportedly worked a number of odd jobs, cleaning houses mostly, according to Kayla, but anyone who knew her commented on what a nice woman she was. Although obviously a wonderful mother, she’d been a person who kept to herself. Kayla had nowhere else to go.

  Jessica had also decided to keep Kayla in for observation. A contrast CT—which Whitby had not ordered—revealed fluid on her lung. She didn’t want to take any chances with her contracting pneumonia.

  Jessica peered into the little girl’s room. Kayla looked so small and defenseless, lying in the child-size hospital bed, surrounded by a menagerie of stuffed toys. There were books and games piled on her night table and tray, too. Clearly, Jessica wasn’t the only staff member who had a fondness for her. Kayla’s eyes were closed, long dark lashes resting over the shadowed circles under her eyes.

  Jessica felt the uncertainty, the insecurity, of wondering whether she’d ordered all the correct tests. Whether she was missing something she should’ve recognized—and in doing so, put Kayla at risk. She shook her head to silence the nagging voices. She’d done all the right things, detected the fluid on Kayla’s lungs, and there was nothing else to do but observe and ensure that she didn’t get pneumonia. And yet, she couldn’t stop herself from fretting.

  If she hadn’t intervened, it might have cost Kayla her life. Still, Jessica found herself second-guessing everything related to Kayla’s care, and that scared her.

  Getting permission to be Kayla’s doctor might not have been the wisest decision for her, but she hoped it was the right one for Kayla.

  She was aware that Richard was watching her like a hawk, which didn’t do much to put her at ease. She’d thought about telling him she’d changed her mind, but she knew how that would reflect on her professionally, and she wanted to take care of Kayla. In this short time, Jessica had come to care deeply about the little girl.


  Jessica was about to back out of the room when Kayla’s eyes fluttered open. Rubbing a fist against her eye, she turned to Jessica and a small smile curved her lips. That meant the world to Jessica and helped put her anxieties at rest, if only for the short-term. She moved to Kayla’s bedside, adjusted the teddy resting under the girl’s arm and tucked the blanket more snugly around her. She brushed back the hair from the girl’s brow with gentle fingers. “How are you feeling today, Kayla?”

  “’Kay,” was Kayla’s croaked response, her voice scratchy from too much crying.

  Jessica took one small hand in her own, and touched the slight bruise left by the IV needle. “Can you take a couple of deep breaths for me?”

  Kayla obliged.

  “Does it hurt anywhere?”

  Kayla shook her head. “Is Mommy coming to see me today?”

  Jessica held the child’s hand more tightly in her own. Kayla still hadn’t accepted that she wouldn’t see her mother again. Jessica caressed the girl’s hair with her other hand, then rested it on her forehead. She was checking for fever as much as offering physical comfort.

  A knock on the door had them both glancing over. Cal stood in the doorway, balancing on his crutches, a huge stuffed pony under his left arm.

  Even on crutches, in loose-fitting shorts, a polo shirt and just a bit disheveled, he looked so attractive that Jessica’s heart skipped a few beats.

  “Cal,” Kayla cried, and tears fell from her eyes.

  “Hey, hey! None of that,” he exclaimed, and hurried over as fast as he could. He leaned the crutches against the side of the bed and handed her the pony. “See what I brought you?”

  She accepted the stuffed toy, nearly as big as her, and buried her face in its plush caramel-colored coat. “Have you found Mommy?” she asked in a hopeful whisper.

  Cal glanced at Jessica. “It comes and goes,” she said quietly, hoping he’d understand what she meant. She was trying to be circumspect in front of Kayla. She assumed he did when he didn’t respond. Instead, he propped a hip against the side of the bed. He bent over and spoke softly in her ear. Kayla slowly calmed down and even managed a watery smile.