The Doctor and the Single Mom Page 9
“I bleeded a lot,” he confirmed eagerly. Now that the pain and suffering were over, the story would take on a legend of its own. “Wanna see my stitches?”
“No, I’m sure Dr. Stone did a fine job.”
“Took him forever,” C.J. groaned. “I thought he’d never be done, but I didn’t move. Not even my eyes. I just closed ’em.”
“It’s true,” Adam agreed. “He was very manly.”
“And I’m gonna have a big scar.”
“He was very brave,” Jill added. “And Adam was kind enough to reward him with dinner here because he was so good.”
“That’s the spirit, Doc.” The mayor nodded her approval. “I hear we’re going to see you at the Harvest Festival.”
“I’m all signed up.”
“Good.” Loretta lifted a hand to wave goodbye. “Gotta run. See you there.”
“She’s stopping at every table,” Adam commented.
Jill glanced over her shoulder and noticed that the people talking to the mayor were looking in this direction and the hostility level had gone down several notches. “I think Mayor Goodson is spreading the news of your good deed.”
“I didn’t put her up to it,” Adam said quickly.
“That actually never crossed my mind. Because you didn’t know this place would be C.J.’s choice or that the mayor would be here.”
“Wow.” There was a teasing expression in his voice. “Good to know you trust me without any evidence to back it up.”
“I trust you, too, Dr. Adam.” C.J. was kneeling on the plastic booth bench, his elbows on the table. “Does it hurt to get stitches out? Can I keep ’em in forever?”
“They can’t stay in more than a week.” Adam thought for a moment. “It doesn’t hurt, but you’ll feel a little pulling. I’ll do it really fast.”
“Okay.” There was no sign of apprehension as he blew on the straw in his water glass. He had complete faith in this man.
As it turned out, a full-on view of Adam wasn’t the most dangerous thing that night. It was the hero worship in her son’s eyes. It was seeing him so happy to be hanging around with another guy, the three of them having fun. This outing was a glimpse of what being a family was like. She’d experienced it a long time ago, before her father walked out, but C.J. never had. The yearning to give it to him welled up inside her.
Why did Adam have to be the one she pictured a family with? That was just crazy, especially when he’d flat out told her he wasn’t interested. If she knew how to get the thought out of her head, Jill would do it in a heartbeat. Holding out hope for something like that with Adam Stone was just asking for trouble. If life had taught her anything, it was that she didn’t have to ask for trouble.
It had a way of finding her on its own.
Chapter Seven
When Adam had made the decision to move to Montana, it never crossed his mind that he’d be the man voted most likely to be hate-stared out of town. In his medical station at the annual Harvest Festival he felt the vibe in a more public way than ever before. Folks walked by and looked at him as if an alien would burst out of his chest.
So far he had a boyhood friend and a six-year-old boy in the friends column. Mayor Goodson was civil to him mostly because she was a civil servant and it was literally in her job description. So here he sat by himself trying to rally some character and not let the isolation bother him, but that was hard for a guy who’d been popular in high school and college. Even in med school and afterward, people had accepted him easily. Shoot, he was an easygoing and likable guy—everywhere but Blackwater Lake.
Cars had been detoured off Main Street to close it off for the festival, and the booths were set up in the road. All the retail stores were open and hoping to take advantage of foot traffic.
Adam was situated between the Chamber of Commerce and Tourism booths. Behind him there was a big sign in blue letters advertising Mercy Medical Clinic health screenings. He’d been there since 10:00 a.m. and it was now past one. A handful of people who probably weren’t Jill’s friends had stopped by for blood pressure screenings, flu shots and cholesterol checks. The stack of brochures regarding healthy lifestyles and warning signals for stroke had hardly gone down at all.
Mostly he was doing nothing except fielding hostile looks from the residents of Blackwater Lake and really starting to resent taking the heat for “the last doctor” who had done Jill wrong. He was beginning to wonder if folks would ever give him a chance. At this point convincing them he was different looked doubtful.
Cabot Dixon separated from the people meandering down the street and walked over. He was carrying Tyler, who had his head on his father’s shoulder. “How’s it going?”
“Quiet. Not much has changed since the last time I saw you at the clinic.”
That wasn’t completely true. He’d kissed Jill, but it seemed that would stay between the two of them. If she’d mentioned anything, a lynch mob would have come after him with a whole lot to say before hanging him from the highest tree. Since he was still getting the silent treatment, the obvious conclusion was that no one else knew. Looking at it that way, he was doing all right.
“Give it time,” his friend said.
“I’m a doctor. That’s my line.”
Cabot shrugged. “Apparently it’s universal advice.”
“Maybe, but at this rate I’ll be retired before there’s a crack in the attitude.” He folded his arms over his chest. “Hey, Tyler.”
“Hi.” He didn’t lift his head, which was uncharacteristic of a six-year-old boy.
“You feeling okay?” Adam asked.
“He went on the roller coaster and Ferris wheel back-to-back. That was a couple of twists, rolls and turns too many after a hot dog and cotton candy. My fault.” There was a dark look in Cab’s eyes, something that said he blamed himself for a lot. “I’m taking him home.”
“Wish I could go with you,” Adam said.
“How long are you here at the festival?” Cabot asked.
“The booth is open till four. Although I’m on call for the clinic, too.”
“Something tells me you’re hoping to hear from the answering service.”
Adam shrugged. “It would break up the monotony.”
“Hang in there,” the other man advised.
“Daddy, my tummy hurts,” Tyler groaned. “Can we go home now?”
“Yeah, buddy. I’ll get you there soon.” He looked at Adam. “Any advice for a stomachache, Doc?”
“Time.”
Cabot smiled ruefully. “See you later.”
“Yeah. Feel better, Tyler.”
Adam watched father and son move quickly away in the direction of the temporary lot at the edge of town set up for public parking. He looked at his watch and noted the friendly interlude had lasted the better part of five minutes. It was a nice break.
He could use more of them. And that’s when he saw a familiar redhead in the flow of people walking by. Jill. A feeling of profound lust poured through him. He wanted her so bad he could taste it. Just from one look. It was a damn good thing he didn’t see her every day. When his vision cleared and the blood started circulating back to his brain, he noticed that C.J. was beside her.
The kid glanced around and spotted Adam, then ran toward him, grinning. “Hi, Dr. Adam.”
“Hey, champ. It’s good to see you.” A smiling face in this town was priceless. “Are you having fun?”
“Sort of.”
Jill followed her son. She wasn’t smiling, but she didn’t look like she wanted him lynched either. “Hi.”
“What are you up to?”
“Not much,” she answered.
“That would explain the ‘sort of’ response to having fun.” At the sight of her, Adam’s spirits rose in a very different way from talkin
g with Cabot.
“No, the explanation for that is his friend Tyler got a tummy ache and had to go home.”
“Tyler and me were s’posed to ride all the rides and then go to the baseball booth. The one where you knock the bottles down and win somethin’. I been practicin’. I coulda won a really good prize.”
“You can still go,” his mother pointed out.
“It’s no fun by myself.”
“What am I, chopped liver?” she protested.
He plopped his tush down on the folding chair set up for patients. “You’re a girl.”
Not new information, Adam thought. The slender legs and curvy curves were a giveaway. And, after more clinical evaluation in the weeks since he’d been there, his assessment of her excellent derriere hadn’t changed. It was still in the top five, although he was leaning toward a number one ranking now.
“Sorry, kiddo.” Jill sighed. “I’m sure Tyler doesn’t like not feeling well even more than you miss him being here.”
“What’s this thing?” He picked up the cuff with the attached bulb to inflate it.
Adam squatted down in front of him. “That’s a blood pressure cuff.”
“What’s it for?”
“Taking people’s blood pressure.” Adam knew what was coming. “It goes on your arm and measures the force of blood pushing against the walls of your arteries. If the needle on the gauge reads too high, that means the blood is moving at a pressure not within normal range. That could be dangerous.”
“Can you take mine?” Pleading brown eyes blinked at him.
“This one’s too big for you. It’s for grown-ups.”
“Oh, man.” C.J.’s posture was pure dejection. “I can’t do anything. I wish you could go with me to the baseball booth.”
Adam wasn’t quite sure how the two thoughts connected, but the meaning of both was clear. “Me, too. But I can’t leave here for a while.”
“Why not?” The boy looked around. “There’s no one here.”
“Someone might come by,” he explained. Although the odds weren’t good on that. “High blood pressure screening is really important because there are no warnings if you have it.”
“No tummy ache?” he asked.
“Nope. So, just in case, I need to be here.”
“Dr. Adam is checking other things, too,” Jill explained. “And giving flu shots for anyone who needs one.”
“I don’t,” the boy said. “I don’t like needles.”
“I remember.” Adam smiled as he inspected the red line under the small chin. He’d taken the stitches out a few weeks ago. There’d been no drama or tears, which could mean the kid trusted him more after dinner out. He’d really enjoyed spending time with the two of them. “That’s a good-looking scar.”
“It’s hardly noticeable,” Jill said. “You did an amazing job.”
He smiled at her. “Happy to help.”
“Can’t someone take your place here?” C.J. persisted.
“Sorry, champ. I gave my word.”
“What does that mean?”
“I promised and have to follow through. It’s a responsibility.”
Jill looked at her watch. “Have you had lunch?”
“No.”
“You must be starving.” There was concern in her voice.
“I’m okay.”
“C.J. and I can get you something,” she offered.
It surprised and pleased him that she’d go out of her way. Just talking about eating had his stomach rumbling, especially with all the food smells in the air. “Is someone selling pizza?”
“By the slice,” she confirmed.
C.J. pointed. “Just down there.”
“Tell me what you want.”
“Let me go, Mommy.” C.J. slid off the chair. “You can watch me. I wanna do it for Dr. Adam. He might get cranky if his sugar gets low.”
Her smile was sheepish. “Can you tell we’ve talked about that?”
“Figured.”
There was uncertainty in Jill’s eyes. “I don’t know, sweetie. Why don’t we go together?”
“She never lets me do anything by myself,” he grumbled to Adam. “Even though I’m gettin’ bigger every day.”
The “she” in question chewed on her bottom lip, clearly conflicted. “You’re right, C.J. You are a big boy. And I can see you from right here.”
He looked up at Adam. “What kind do you want?”
“Pepperoni.” Adam reached into his pocket and pulled out a twenty-dollar bill, then handed it over. “And a bottle of water. Can you carry all that?”
“’Course I can.”
“Get something for yourself, too.”
“Nah. I don’t wanna get sick like Ty.” He took the money and raced to the booth where the pizza was.
Adam watched him. “That hair makes him easy to spot.”
The color was identical to Jill’s. He studied her, never looking away from her son. She was definitely not hard on the eyes and he felt the wanting well up the way it always did when she was near. If she was just beautiful, the knot in his gut wouldn’t be so bad. He’d met a lot of beautiful women who didn’t get to him, but there was something about this woman that did. Unfortunately acting on the attraction complicated everything he was trying to accomplish.
“Hi, Jill.” A tiny, gray-haired woman stopped.
“Mrs. Carberry. I haven’t seen you in ages. How are you?”
“Pretty well.” She glanced at Adam. “You’re the new doctor?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“He’s doing free blood pressure checks, among other things,” Jill said. “You should do it.”
“Really?”
“I promise it won’t hurt,” Adam said. “Unless you want a flu shot, but that’s only a little stick. I recommend it. Risk factors are higher in your age demographic.”
“Are you saying I’m old?” she demanded, although there was a twinkle in her blue eyes.
“No.” He shook his head. “I just meant—”
The woman grinned and sat in the folding chair. “Just messing with you, Doc. If Jill thinks I should, then I will.”
Adam did his thing and Mrs. Carberry decided to get the shot because she’d had a bad case of flu the year before. As he worked, he noticed a few more people chatting with Jill. She was pointing in his direction and it looked as though a small line was forming. Maybe the town sweetheart was starting to like him and would pass along the sentiment to her friends and neighbors.
That would help his cause, if he could only forget how good it had felt to kiss that hometown sweetheart. If only he could unkiss her, because the memory was powerful and just made him want her more. The temptation was damned inconvenient, especially with the thaw in her attitude. Because he didn’t have the aptitude to do it right, pursuing a relationship with Jill Beck would be a big mistake.
Based on the Blackwater Lake cold shoulder he’d already experienced, if he screwed it up, acceptance in this town would be next to impossible.
* * *
Jill rubbed her eyes and then glanced at her watch, surprised at the time. It was Saturday, but unlike most people she wasn’t off. She’d been at the computer for several hours, still making up for the half a day she’d squeezed out of her schedule for the Harvest Festival a week ago. First she’d completed an assignment for an online class, then her own budget. Adam Stone’s rent check had cleared and it hit her that he’d been upstairs for two months now. Since renters paid ahead, he was going on number three.
When they’d first met, the weather had been sunny and warm, one of those perfect Montana days that made you forget the awful ones. And the awful ones were coming soon. Last night on the news the anchor had warned that a cold front was coming.
She stood and pressed her hands to her back, then raised her arms over her head and stretched from side to side. C.J. had been at the marina store with Brew all afternoon. It was almost time for dinner and she decided to walk down to get him. A phone call would do the job, but she needed some exercise after sitting for so long. Grabbing her quilted jacket from the hall tree, she opened the front door and gasped. The glare had her shielding her eyes.
“Snow.”
Normally the first storm of the season was exciting, but not this one. A vague sensation of depression settled over her.
Footsteps sounded on the stairway to the upstairs apartment and moments later Adam appeared at the bottom. The last time they’d seen each other was when he’d given Mrs. Carberry a flu shot. Somehow, maybe by unspoken mutual agreement, they steered clear of meeting like this and she wasn’t used to bumping into him. That was definitely for the best since she knew he was the reason for her lack of first snowfall joy. This was the kind of weather that would send a doctor from Dallas back to his warmer natural habitat.
“It’s snowing.” He was just shrugging into his jacket.
“The weather guy said it was a possibility, but I figured he was wrong. It’s early.” And just this once she’d so hoped winter would hold off. “You’ve been keeping long hours at the clinic.”
“I’ve been pretty busy. Thanks to you.” He slid his hands into the pockets of his sheepskin-lined jacket. “Haven’t even had a chance to thank you for not only acknowledging me in public, but giving a recommendation, too.”
“You’re a good doctor, Adam. And definitely C.J.’s hero. Not only did you convince my son the wiggle worm to hold still, but the care you took closing up that nasty gash on his chin was amazing.”
“I’d have turned C.J. over to someone in plastics if they were close by.”
Jill had considered trekking to the hospital, but that was about her personal reasons for avoiding Adam. “I can’t imagine a plastic surgeon doing a better job.”
“A specialist knows the latest and best techniques in the field so patients get the most positive outcome possible.” He blew out a breath, and a white cloud appeared in front of his face. “Family practice physicians see anyone with any problem and become experts in common problems. With C.J., I just used the smallest sutures available and put in as many as possible to minimize scarring.”