Saving Dr. Ryan Page 15

  Maddie chuckled. He turned to her, looking bemused.

  “What’s so blamed funny?”

  “I keep expecting you to go, ‘Say ah.’”

  “Well. You never know,” he said.

  “You have any idea what you’re looking for?”

  He just frowned at her.

  Just then, the kids came barrelling past them in the short hall and on down the uncarpeted stairs, sounding like those crazy people who run from the bull every year in Spain or wherever that was.

  “Those could be dangerous,” the doctor said, nodding toward the stairs. “Especially when the baby starts walking.”

  “That’s why there’s baby gates.”

  “They don’t always work. Some babies learn to climb over them.”

  “Honestly, Dr. Logan…” Exasperated, she headed down the stairs. “Anybody ever tell you you’re a worry wort?”

  Grumbling and mumbling, he followed her. Halfway down, he said, “How much did you say they’re asking?”

  She told him. He grunted.

  “And they’re sure it’s going to be ready by New Year’s?”

  “I only know what the agent told me. And speaking of holidays…” She carted Amy Rose back over to the stroller to strap her in, wondering why she was about to suggest this. But the idea had been building up in her mind for the past week until there was no ignoring it. After scooping off a trickle of slobber from the baby’s chin with her finger and wiping it on her jeans, she took a deep breath, said a mental prayer for her sanity, then said, “I’ve been meaning to ask you if it’d be okay with you if I cooked Thanksgiving dinner for you. As a way to say ‘thank you’ for everything you’ve done for me and the kids.”

  As expected, he gave her an odd look. But then, he was always giving her odd looks. She was beginning to get used to it.

  “You got something against Thanksgiving?” she asked.

  “No, no, it’s just…it’s been so long since…” He rubbed the back of his neck for a second, then seemed to catch himself, quickly lowering his hand to his side. “And I wouldn’t want you to go to a lot of trouble for nothing. Holidays are usually my busiest days. Kitchen accidents, food poisoning, heart attacks from overeating.” He smirked, crossing his arms. “Patching up the wounded after a family ‘discussion.’”

  Maddie laughed, then said, “Okay, I see your point. But I also want to do this for the kids.” She looked back at the baby, who was trying to stuff her fist in her mouth. “It’s been a while since we’ve had a real holiday celebration, too.”

  “Lord, woman,” Ryan said softly behind her, “you sure do know which buttons to push, don’t you?”

  Her gaze whipped to his. “I’m not trying to—”

  To her shock, he reached up, tenderly brushing her hair away from her face. “It’s okay, honey,” he said with a smile that was more sad than anything. “Knock yourself out. Just don’t…” He lowered his hand, stuffing it in his pocket. “You just can’t count on my being there, okay?”

  “I won’t, I promise.” Her cheek still tingling from his touch, she crouched by the stroller, afraid to look at him, afraid he’d see something in her eyes that had no right to be there. “There’s one more thing.”

  “And what’s that?”

  She straightened up, finding the wherewithal to face him again. “Long as I’m doing the cooking, is it okay if I invite one or two other people? Like maybe, Mildred and Ivy?”

  “Sure, you can invite anybody you like—”

  “Even your brothers?”

  He frowned at that, just like she figured he would.

  “My brothers and I haven’t shared a holiday meal in nearly ten years.”

  “Then it’s high time you did,” she said, calling to the kids as she wheeled the stroller to the front door. “You can invite Hank,” she added, “and I’ll invite Cal when the kids and I are go out there on Saturday.”

  The doctor hardly said three words to her the rest of the way back to his house.

  “This is really beautiful.” Maddie fingered the folded lace tablecloth draped across her arm, then looked up at the doctor’s younger brother. “You sure you don’t mind me borrowing it?”

  Accompanied by a small herd of grinning dogs—a pair of Australian shepherds, a Border collie, and one multicolored thing made out of scraps—they’d toured the Logan family home, a sturdy, rambling cinnamon-brown clapboard house that Maddie liked nearly as much as she liked the doctor’s, as well as the grounds and stables. Then the kids had their pony rides, complete with one horror-stricken moment when the kids caught sight of pony poop for the first time and Maddie had thought she’d just about die laughing. Now they were standing out back, at one end of the large vegetable garden Cal’s housekeeper, Ethel, maintained. Most of it was spent now, this late in the season, but there were still winter lettuces going and some Brussels sprouts…and pumpkins. Dozens and dozens of pumpkins, which the kids were now inspecting one by one, with the dogs’ help.

  “Nobody’s used that tablecloth since Mama passed,” Cal said, leaning his weight on top of the chain link fence surrounding the garden to keep the varmints out. “It’s just been sitting in the buffet, gathering dust.” He squinted up at her. “Thanks for inviting me, by the way.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  “So what’d Ry think of the idea?”

  “Hard to tell. Although I think he thinks I’m nuts.”

  Cal just laughed.

  Visoring her eyes with her hand against the strong late-afternoon sun, Maddie watched the children for a moment, hopping from pumpkin to pumpkin like a pair of giggling fleas. Every day, they seemed to relax into their new lives a little more. Especially Noah, she thought with a wry smile, whose troublemaking skills had nearly returned to normal levels. Her smile flattened out some, though, when she thought about how attached they were both getting to Dr. Logan. What was it going to be like two months from now, when they had to move out?

  “Hey. A man could go deaf from the sound of all those gears grinding in your head.”

  Maddie shook off her errant thoughts and looked over at Cal, standing there with that up-to-no-good grin on his face. “Sorry. Got a lot on my mind.”

  He shifted to face her, the grin dimming by a few hundred watts or so. “You know, I wasn’t all that sure you’d come out today.”

  She squinted out at the kids. “Neither was I.”

  “Then why did you?”

  “Because I thought it would be good for the kids. And because…” Her cheeks warmed.

  “Because Ry told you not to?”

  Her gaze flew to his. “He didn’t tell me not to.” She smoothed her hand over the tablecloth. “Not in so many words, at least.”

  Cal let out a bark of laughter, shaking his head. “You are something else, Maddie.”

  An indignant squeal caught their attention; they looked out to see both kids trying to sit on the same pumpkin. Katie Grace butt-bumped Noah in the hip, knocking him onto the ground. Unfazed, he simply got up and moved on to the next throne, the pumpkin nearly as big as he was.

  “C’n we have this one?”

  “You sure can, buddy. Now help your sister pick one out, then we’ll load ’em up in your mama’s car.”

  The kids scampered back further into the patch as Cal said, “So what you’re saying is, you came out here to get a rise out of my brother.”

  “I did not!” Except then he angled his head at her, his grin all crooked and knowing, and she let out a sigh. “Well, maybe a little. And what’s so funny?”

  “Nothin’,” he said, chuckling. “Just that I was thinking what a fine sister-in-law you’d make someday.”

  “Sister-in—” Maddie clamped shut her mouth and just gaped at him. When she found her voice again, she said, “You have definitely been out in the sun too long. And would you please wipe that exasperatin’ grin off your face? Honestly, Cal—what on earth would even make you say such a thing?”

  “My brother’s attitude
about you, for one thing.” Katie Grace pointed out her pumpkin; with a wave of acknowledgement, Cal headed for a shed near the house. Maddie followed. So did Mooner, the scrap-dog.

  “He’s just being protective, is all. Because—”

  “You work for him? You live with him? He delivered your baby?” Cal pushed open the door to the shed, stepped inside long enough to get a wheelbarrow. When he reappeared, he said, “Hell, Maddie—he doesn’t go around warning any other woman about me. And then—” he steered the wheelbarrow through the garden toward Noah’s pumpkin “—you go and deliberately antagonize him by comin’ out here. So what does that tell us?”

  Stumbling along behind him, praying she didn’t trip over a vine and break her neck, Maddie said, “That I’m free to choose who I see and where I go?”

  “Nope. Wrong answer. What that says to me is, you knew your coming out here would tick him off.” He stopped, stared at her hard. Mooner sat down and stared, too, until an itch over his stubby tail distracted him. “Might even make him jealous.”

  “That’s crazy!”

  The late-afternoon sun made Cal’s green eyes twinkle like emeralds. “You’re forgetting who’s the experienced one here. There’s not a man-woman game on earth I haven’t played at one time or another.” He leaned toward her. “I know all the moves, Miss Maddie.” Then he sobered. “I also know my brother doesn’t generally look at a woman the way I saw him look at you that night I was up to his house. Not since—” He stopped.

  “Suzanne?”

  “So you know about her?”

  “Only what Ivy’s told me. Your brother never talks about her.”

  “Yeah, that sounds about right.” He took out a pocketknife to whack the pumpkin’s stem. “I’m sorry, but the man’s not leading a normal life. Him and Hank both. I figure if you can get his heart started again…” With a grunt and a thud, he loaded the pumpkin into the barrow.

  “You’re forgetting one important thing,” Maddie said, as he jerked the loaded barrow around to push it to where Katie was squatting by her pumpkin, petting it like it was a dog.

  “And what’s that?”

  “That you’re deluded,” she shouted toward his back.

  Cal just laughed. Maddie felt like somebody’d screwed her brain in too tight. “Okay, so…so maybe it is time your brother came out of that stupid shell he’s in. I don’t disagree that what he’s let happen to himself isn’t good. But whatever he might need in a girlfriend—in a wife—I’m sure not it.”

  Cal thunked the second pumpkin into the barrow, then straightened up, dusting off his hands. “What makes you say that?”

  “Where would you like me to start? For one thing, I’m not looking to get involved with anybody for a good long while. And for another, what do we have in common? Not to mention the fact that I’m so much younger than he is. I mean, he’s got all that college education, and…and…shoot, Cal—there’s only so much classical music I can take before I’m ready to scream.”

  A half smile curved Cal’s mouth. “Yep. Nice set of objections you got there.”

  Maddie hugged the tablecloth to her chest and stared out toward the stables. An occasional soft whinny pricked the air as she stood there, thinking about the doctor’s reaction to her touch the other night. About her reaction to his, when they were at the house on Emerson. The way her stomach flipped over at the sound of his voice when he talked to Amy Rose, when she heard him joshing with his patients.

  If she was being honest with herself, she’d admit she was in serious trouble.

  And Maddie always made it a point to be honest with herself.

  She turned to Cal, frowning. “I won’t deny that I care about him. Maybe even care for him. I mean, it would be kinda hard not to, considering how good he’s been to me and all. But that doesn’t change anything,” she quickly added. “If anything, it just makes me more determined than ever to get out of there as soon as I can, before—” She caught her lip between her teeth.

  “Before what?”

  Shaking her head, she looked back over toward where the sun was thinking about bedding down for the night. “There was a time I believed in dreams, so much so that I turned my back on the only two people who’d ever cared two hoots about me. Well, five years of being married to a dreamer sure cured me of that.” Poking at a clump of dirt with the toe of her canvas shoe, she said, “If it’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that there’s no point in wishing for things that aren’t going to happen. People can’t help being who they are, feeling what they feel. And dreaming won’t change that.”

  “Then what was all that baloney you gave me about Ned?”

  She’d told Cal about her mission to turn the old man’s attitude around. Now she was sorry she had. “Not the same thing. Ned was just waiting for somebody to come along who cared enough to save him from himself. Even if he didn’t know it. Ryan…”

  She stopped, realizing that was the first time she’d ever called the doctor by his first name.

  “I don’t know the particulars about him and Suzanne,” she said, “but my guess is that he’s still hurting over her leaving him. And frankly, trying to heal something like that takes more energy than I’ve got.”

  Cal was quiet for a moment, then turned the wheelbarrow around to leave the garden. “I just have one thing to say about dreams, Maddie.” He nodded over his shoulder, indicating the farm. “Buying this farm was my father’s dream, even when he didn’t have two nickels to rub together. Turning it into a successful horse farm was mine, even though nobody thought I’d ever be able to knuckle down long enough to stick with it. No, dreams don’t come true just by wishing, but they can be the spark that start things happening. Even if they don’t make a lick of sense to anybody but ourselves. That doesn’t make ’em any less worthwhile. And without ’em, you may as well just lay down and die.”

  They’d reached her car; Cal popped open the trunk to put the pumpkins inside. Crossing her arms against the descending chill, Maddie stared out over the pastures. “You love your brothers, don’t you?”

  He slammed shut the trunk. “They don’t make it easy, but yes. I do. Shoot, they were my idols when I was a kid. Watching what’s happened to them in the past couple of years…it makes me sick, Maddie. They were always driven, both of ’em, but they used to be human, at least. I just want to see them happy.”

  She looked over at him. “What’s your dream these days, Cal Logan?”

  That funny smile stretched across his mouth. “Ah, my mama told me that the thing about dreams is, sometimes you’ve gotta keep ’em close to your heart. Cherish ’em. Know they’ll come to fruition in their own good time.” He winked at her. “Just as long as you don’t give up on ’em.”

  Chapter 9

  More than once that afternoon, Ryan had thought about driving on out to Cal’s farm to see for himself what was going on. Except that would be childish, for one thing. And give people the wrong impression, for another.

  But, damn, he was in a rotten mood.

  For the first time in what seemed like months, if not years, he’d had an entire afternoon without a single call. Which meant he’d been alone in the house the whole time. Savoring the quiet. The peace. Just the way it used to be, before Maddie came along. Just the way he liked it.

  He rattled the journal he was trying to read.

  The grandfather clock bonged.

  Outside, a dog barked.

  Somebody drove by.

  The house made a creaky, settling noise.

  Ryan got up, walked over to the window. Watched the street for a while. Went back to his desk. Sat down. Glowered at the journal.

  A minute later, the house shuddered from the front door opening, followed by a blast of children’s voices, the baby crying, Maddie laughing over it all.

  He resisted the urge to get up, go meet them.

  In his mind’s eye, he could see Maddie’s smile. Knew all he had to do, to see that smile in person, was get up off his lazy duff and go out there—


  “Dokker Rine, Dokker Rine!” Katie Grace burst into the office, her cheeks as pink as his mother’s roses used to be, her blond hair a tangled mess. Before Ryan knew it, the child was on his lap, smelling of cold air and baby shampoo and her mama. “We gots two huge punkins, an’ we gots to ride a pony at Uncle Cal’s—”

  Uncle Cal’s?

  “—an’ there were kittens in the barn an’ Uncle Cal said maybe we could have one, when Mama gets her own house—”

  “Land, Katie Grace!” Out of breath and as flushed as her daughter, Maddie appeared in the doorway, juggling a squalling Amy Rose in her arms. All three females were wearing denim overalls. “Leave the man in peace!”

  But what if the man doesn’t want to be left in peace?

  With that thought, the discombobulation that had been plaguing Ryan all afternoon suddenly undiscombobbled. Because the man very much did want to be left in peace. The man very much did not want to spend another afternoon like this one, wondering about Maddie Kincaid and her children.

  Missing them.

  Missing her.

  Her eyes were bright, almost silver, almost as brilliant as her smile. She shoved a hank of hair behind her ear, the gesture relaxed.

  She’d had a good time, this afternoon. With Cal.

  Why should he begrudge her a few hours’ innocent pleasure?

  “Just let me get this little girl fed,” she said, “then I’ll start dinner. I’ve got some hamburger defrosting—would you rather have spaghetti or tacos?”

  Oh, no…the man did not want to get used to having somebody coming home and asking him if he wanted spaghetti or tacos.

  And most of all, the man did not want to have to avert his gaze from the woman asking him that question because every single one of his trillion cells was crying out with want for her.

  “Ryan?”

  His head snapped up at the sound of his Christian name on her lips.

  “Ryan?” she said again, more softly. She’d stuck her pinkie finger in the baby’s mouth to fake her out for a minute. “Is something wrong?”