Her Maverick M.D. Read online

  “It’s a good idea and would probably mean some remodeling. There’s still grant money left from rebuilding this place after the flood. I’ll look into it.”

  “Good.”

  “Now, I’m going home. And you need to get out of here, too, Jon. Don’t want you to burn out.”

  “Right.”

  The other man nodded and left. When he was alone Jon thought about burnout and figured in his case it felt more like a flameout when he considered Dawn. It sure sounded as if she was friendly and easygoing with everyone but him. If that was the case, the logical assumption was that he’d said or done something to upset her.

  But, for the life of him, he didn’t know how he’d managed to alienate her. Mentally he reviewed every conversation, all of it up to his innocent question about what people did for fun in this town. From her reaction, you’d have thought he’d hit on her...

  Jon winced.

  That hadn’t been his intention, but he could see how she might have jumped to that conclusion. Truthfully, he wouldn’t mind getting to know her. She was an attractive woman and, as much as she’d tried to hide it, they shared a similar sense of humor. But none of that meant a tinker’s damn if the workplace was hostile. Doctors were trained to take symptoms and form a diagnosis. That’s what he was going to do with Dawn.

  If he didn’t find out what he was doing to put her scrubs in a twist, it was going to be a very long year.

  Chapter Three

  After a second day of working with Dr. Jonathan Clifton, Dawn needed to vent to someone who knew all the skeletons in her closet. Her sister, Marina, had talked her through the personal crisis that was so much of the reason she’d quit her hospital job. For two shifts now Dawn had watched the new doctor charm everyone within a two-mile radius of the clinic. Except her. Was she just being overly cautious and seeing problems where there weren’t any? Talking to Marina might give her a better perspective.

  Dawn knocked on her sister’s front door and waited. It could take a while sometimes to get an answer if Marina was busy with the baby. But not tonight.

  The door opened and there she was with baby Sydney in her arms. “Hi, little sister.”

  Dawn was four inches taller than her petite, red-haired sibling but Marina was three years older. The tease was a running joke between them.

  “Hi.” She smiled at her niece. “Hello, sweet girl. Come to Auntie Dawn?”

  Sydney grinned and that was all the encouragement necessary for grabbing her up and squeezing her close. “Ooh, you feel so warm and soft and good. And you smell like a baby.”

  “She is a baby.”

  “Trust me. They don’t always smell like flowers.”

  “Tell me about it. She got a quick bath after you called. I figured that would give us more time to visit.” With her index fingers, Marina added air quotes to the last word. Clearly she knew there was something out of the ordinary going on. “Let’s talk in the other room. Are you hungry? I can throw something together.”

  “No. Thanks, though.” She carried the baby through the kitchen and into the adjacent family room where a baby gym was set up on the carpet.

  “You can put her down there and let her play. She likes that toy, don’t you, sweet Sydney?”

  Of course the baby didn’t answer but Dawn put her down where directed. The two women sat on the rug, watching Syd bat at all the bright-colored things that dangled and rattled.

  Marina met her gaze. “So, what’s up?”

  Instead of answering Dawn asked, “Do you ever think about that night?”

  “The wedding and reception last July Fourth.” Her sister wasn’t asking a question. The two of them were close and somehow always on the same wavelength. “I do think about it. But I’m not sure where you’re going with this.”

  “Syd was conceived that night. Along with a lot of other babies.” She met Marina’s gaze. “It seems crazy what happened.”

  “It is crazy. Whatever was in that punch made a lot of people behave in ways they never would have otherwise.”

  “Irresponsibly?” Dawn asked, remembering what Clifton had said.

  “I suppose so. But Homer Gilmore is the one at fault for spiking the punch in the first place.” Marina’s blue eyes darkened. “They say crisis reveals character and I found that to be true. When I told Gary I was pregnant he dropped me like a hot rock. In his defense our relationship was still new when we went to the wedding together.”

  “Don’t defend him. Everything he did before that night telegraphed to you that he was serious. If you hadn’t believed that you never would have slept with him, punch or no punch. He has the character of a toad and that’s an insult to toads. I’d like to punch him for not being a man and supporting you.”

  Marina took her daughter’s tiny, flailing foot in her hand and smiled lovingly. “I can’t regret what happened because now I have this beautiful, precious little girl.”

  “She is precious.” Dawn studied the blue-eyed, red-haired baby who was going to be a clone of her mom. “And she’s healthy.”

  “I’m so thankful for it. Sometimes I forget that you see a lot of children who are sick.” Marina’s eyes filled with empathy. “That must be hard for you.”

  “I just focus on what will help them get better.” She recalled how Clifton had explained the timing for the triplets’ flu shots. And how he patiently answered new parent questions, no matter how routine. There was no way she could say he wasn’t good at what he did. “And we see a lot of kids for regular checkups to chart their growth and prevent them from getting sick.”

  “True.”

  “In fact Jamie Stockton brought the triplets in to see Dr. Clifton yesterday.”

  “The new doctor?” Her sister’s eyes grew bright with curiosity.

  “Yeah. He told him—”

  “What’s he like?”

  That was what their mother had asked. But unlike Glory, her sibling knew the unfortunate, the bad and the ugly about the last new doctor Dawn had worked with. That was why she was here, to confide in someone who had all the facts.

  “He’s really good-looking.” Gorgeous, in fact.

  “Yeah. And?”

  “Everyone likes him. Patients. Parents. Clinic personnel. They’re all singing his praises.”

  Marina turned serious. “What do you think of him?”

  “Do you want the good list or the bad?”

  “You just did the good.”

  Dawn shook her head. “That was general. There are specifics. Just to be fair...”

  “Okay. Do specific good,” her sister encouraged.

  Dawn tapped her lip as she thought over the last two days. There was a sizable amount of good specific, she realized. “He made Jamie Stockton smile.”

  “Wow. Sounds like a miracle. That man doesn’t have a lot to smile about.”

  “I know, right? He actually got two smiles and a full-on grin when he’d warned Jamie that it was going to get better and worse when he was wrangling three toddlers.”

  Marina frowned as she looked at her little angel. “I didn’t want to know that. What’s to smile about?”

  “I guess you had to be there.”

  “If you say so.”

  “Then there was his tips for new moms. Sensible and helpful. Like the pacifier.”

  “For or against?” her sister asked.

  “Neutral, but with information for the ‘for’ group.”

  Marina studied her. “And? Throw me a bone here. A new mom needs all the free professional advice she can get.”

  She smiled, remembering his wry comment about all things on the internet being true. During that conversation he’d made her want to smile or laugh at least three times. But she held back. “He listed pointers to promote sleep, like sitting on the dryer�
��”

  “I did that!” Marina exclaimed.

  “So I told him.”

  “You didn’t.” Her sister groaned. “He probably thinks I’m a lunatic.”

  “I think you’re a lunatic,” Dawn clarified. “He apparently doesn’t judge.”

  “Wow.” Her sister looked awed. “Where was he when Sydney was little?”

  “She’s still little. Aren’t you, sweetie pie?” Smiling at her niece, Dawn laughed when the baby smiled back and kicked her chubby legs in response. “But I know what you meant.”

  “After that it’s impossible for me to believe there’s anything bad about him.”

  “He made a comment about irresponsible behavior during the wedding reception.”

  Marina shrugged. “It sounds that way if you weren’t there.”

  “Actually he was. He’s Will Clifton’s brother and we all know Will accidentally married Jordyn Leigh.”

  “And, as you said,” her sister reminded her, “if it wasn’t right for them deep down, they wouldn’t have done it. And those two are ridiculously in love.”

  “Still—”

  “Obviously the doctor didn’t have any punch.” The words were said in that tone a big sister used to shut the door on a disagreement.

  “Why are you defending him?”

  “Why are you so critical?” Marina shot back. “Could it have anything to do with the fact that he’s handsome and new? And the last time someone handsome and new walked into your life your world fell apart? Because he sweet-talked you out of your knickers after specifically telling you he was single and then his fiancée showed up and all the people you worked with treated you like a home wrecker? Could that be what’s going on with you?”

  “No.” Dawn folded her arms over her chest.

  Marina laughed but instantly stopped when she got the glare. “No offense.”

  “None taken.”

  “But seriously, I think you’ve got a thing for Dr. Clifton and because you were burned so badly, you’re making up reasons to peg him as a jerk.”

  “But seriously,” Dawn said, imitating her sister’s tone. “I still think you’re a lunatic.”

  “One man’s lunatic is another man’s genius.” It was annoying how unfazed this woman was. “I completely understand your instinct to protect yourself. Our father split and left mom alone to raise us, then only showed up when it was convenient for him. My baby’s father ran screaming from the room when I told him I was pregnant and never showed up again. And the new doctor you took a chance on was a lying, cheating snake who made your life a living hell.”

  “Don’t sugarcoat it.” Dawn sighed. “We are pathetic. Really. The curse of the Laramie women to hook up with the wrong kind of man.”

  “And by focusing on the perceived faults of the handsome new Dr. Clifton, you’re trying to break the curse.”

  There was a little too much truth in those words for Dawn’s peace of mind. Time to shift the focus of this conversation. “What would you do?”

  “Fortunately, I won’t ever have to find out. Sydney is the best thing that has ever happened to me and we don’t need a man to take care of us.” She picked up the little girl who’d started to fuss.

  That was an interesting response because it completely didn’t answer the question. “I’m probably wrong and you’re the teacher, but I think that was a non sequitur.”

  “Well, I’m not the one with the man problem.” She pointed at Dawn. “You will have to find a way to deal with the situation—because you are wildly attracted to the new doctor.”

  “You’re wrong.”

  At least Dawn hoped so. But she couldn’t swear to it because her sister knew her better than anyone. It was a bad sign that a conversation which should have relieved her anxiety just made her more conflicted.

  * * *

  “Okay, Tucker, I’m going to take a look at your knee.” Jon saw fear bordering on panic in the kid’s blue eyes.

  The eleven-year-old looked at his mom, then back to Jon. “Don’t touch it.”

  “I’m not going to do anything. Right now I just need to look.”

  “Promise?”

  Jon knew stitches would be necessary, but he needed to work up to that revelation with a skittish kid. “I’ll put my hands behind my back.”

  He glanced at Dawn who was standing by. For just a moment her mouth curved into a smile, but when she noticed him looking it disappeared, and she wouldn’t glance his way again. What had put that guarded look in her eyes and, more important, how could he get her to drop it? If anything, she grew more reserved every day. She hardly spoke to him unless it was about work and walked out of any room he entered if she didn’t need to be there for a patient.

  “Okay,” Tucker said.

  Distracted, Jon met the boy’s gaze. “Hmm?”

  “You can look, but you have to put your hands behind your back first.” His dirty, freckled face was streaked with tears and his shaggy brown hair in need of a trim fell into his eyes.

  Jon held up his hands, then clasped them behind his back. “Just looking.”

  “How did you get that nasty gash?” Dawn moved beside the exam table where the boy had his legs stretched out in front of him.

  Jon knew that it was strictly professional because of the way she deliberately didn’t look at him. She was distracting the boy, using her pediatric nursing skill.

  “Me and my friends were playing by the creek.” He shrugged. “I fell on a sharp rock.”

  “Looks like it hurt.”

  The laceration was about five centimeters long and deep, down to the fat, but fortunately he couldn’t see bone. Sutures were definitely necessary.

  Jon straightened and folded his arms over his chest. “Okay, kid, I’m going to give it to you straight. This needs stitches.”

  “No way.” Tucker folded his arms over his chest, too, as stubbornness settled on his young face.

  “Well, you could choose to do nothing, but your knee will keep bleeding.”

  “I don’t care.”

  “I do.” Molly Hendrickson had the same freckles and brown hair as her son.

  Jon met the boy’s mistrustful gaze. “I could leave it alone if that’s what you want, but before deciding there are some things you should take into consideration.”

  “Like what?”

  “It’s deep and will take a long time to heal. And it’s in a bad spot because you bend it and all that movement keeps the wound from closing up. On top of that, until it closes you can’t get dirt in it or you risk an infection.”

  Doubt cut through the kid’s stubborn expression. “Would that hurt?”

  “Yeah it would.” Jon shrugged. “Bottom line is you’ll spend what’s left of your summer in the house with your leg propped up.”

  “Mom—”

  “He’s the doctor, Tuck.” Molly looked sympathetic but resigned.

  “How bad will stitches hurt?”

  “A little. But probably not as much as when you fell.” In his experience treating children, it helped not to talk down to them. Jon believed in telling the patient exactly what was going to happen. “I’ll swab some medicine around the cut so when I give you the shot to numb the area it won’t hurt as bad. I promise you won’t feel any pain when I close up that laceration.”

  “You’ll still have to keep it clean,” Dawn said. “But it won’t take as long to heal and you’ll have a little summer left to get as dirty as you want.”

  “He probably appreciates permission to be grubby, but trust me, he doesn’t need it.” Molly tenderly brushed the hair off his forehead. “It is what it is. A little summer left is better than nothing. Man up, buddy.”

  “Okay.” He glared. “But I’m not going to look.”

  “Me, either,” Jon
said.

  “You have to.” Tucker saw his grin and looked sheepish. “Oh. You’re messing with me.”

  “I am.” Jon saw Dawn smile, then shut it down when she glanced at him.

  Jon tamped down his irritation. The way she always did that was really starting to bug him. But he couldn’t deal with it now. Soon, though.

  “I’ll go get a suture kit.” She left the room.

  He washed his hands at the exam room sink and in a few minutes when Dawn returned he was ready.

  “Okay, Tuck, here we go. When you’re all patched up you can get your mom to take you for ice cream.”

  “But it’s almost dinnertime.”

  “I bet she’ll make an exception this one time,” Dawn said.

  “That can be arranged.” Molly put her arm across her son’s shoulders. “Be brave, kiddo.”

  “What if I cry?”

  Jon took the syringe of lidocaine and prepared to inject it. “From my perspective, as long as you hold still, you can cry, scream and swear.”

  “I can say bad words?” Apparently using bad language without punishment was more exciting than ice cream.

  His mom was squirming now. “Do you even know any curse words?”

  “I’ve heard dad say some stuff—”

  “Here we go. A little pinch,” Jon said. He gently pricked the skin with the needle. “How you doing, Tuck?” Jon quickly glanced up.

  “Okay. It hurt at first. But now it just feels like you’re pushing on my leg.”

  “Good. That’s what should happen. It’s going to take a little time for the medicine to work, but that was the worst of it. Now we’re going to clean out the cut so it doesn’t get infected. Then I’ll do the stitches and put a big Band-Aid on it so the girls will be impressed.”

  The kid made a face and looked as if he was in real pain. “I don’t like girls.”

  “You don’t have to.” Give it a couple years, Jon thought. Then you might get to work with a girl who hated your guts and you had no clue why. When they were finished here he was going to find out what was going on with her.

  Jon finished quickly then bandaged the knee. “You’ll need to change the dressing every day. Bring him back in a week and I’ll check to see if the stitches are ready to come out.”