Saving Dr. Ryan Read online

  Fortunately, before Dr. Logan could argue with her, his cell phone rang. He unhooked it from his belt, answering it even as he shot Maddie a look that said, “This isn’t over yet.”

  “How high’s the fever, Faith?” she heard him say. “Okay, I’ll be out in about forty-five minutes, if that’s okay. I’ll go ahead and swab him for strep while I’m there… Forget it. The weather’s threatening to get nasty again. No sense dragging the boy out in the cold and the wet.”

  He disconnected and turned to her, looking torn. “Will you be okay…?”

  “We’ll be fine,” she reassured him. “Hard part’s over. Go.”

  After one final, conflicted look, he said good-night, then disappeared.

  And Maddie wondered, as she watched her oldest children climb into their nice, clean beds, if Ryan Logan was so busy always taking care of everybody else, who the heck ever took care of him?

  By the time Maddie’d been in Haven for two days, she’d learned one very important thing: The women in this town looked out for each other.

  Aside from Ivy’s in-and-outing and fussing and hovering, it seemed like every female from here to Tulsa had stopped by to drop off a casserole or a ham or clothes or baby equipment their kids had outgrown, or to just introduce herself and tell Maddie if there was anything she needed, not to be shy, just let her know.

  Lord, she’d never remember all their names.

  And they’d never be able to eat all this food, not in a million years.

  It was getting on to dinnertime. Since Dr. Logan was at the hospital, Ivy had been there for a couple hours, so Maddie could get a shower, at least. Amy Rose had been changed and nursed and burped, and was now snoozing away in a swing with a detachable infant seat somebody had brought over yesterday, which she’d set up next to the kitchen table. Katie Grace had conked out on the sofa in the living room, but was due to wake up any minute; Noah was sitting at the table with his head resting on his folded up arms, studying his baby sister. One foot scuffed back and forth across the tile, like to drive Maddie crazy. Not that she was going to tell him to stop. Right now, she had more pressing things on her mind. Like trying to pawn off some of this food.

  “Ivy, please—at least take this tuna casserole. We’ve already got three!”

  Wrapping herself up in her poncho for the short walk back to her house, Ivy leaned over, lifted the glass top off the dish. “Who brought this one?”

  “Lord knows.”

  Ivy carefully raised the heavy ceramic container, squinted at the lettering on the strip of masking tape. “Oh, Lord, Arliss Potts. The Methodist pastor’s wife.” The dish clunked back onto the counter. “Sweet lady, generous as they come, but can’t cook worth spit. Throw it out, is my advice.”

  “How bad can it be?”

  “You ever tasted tuna casserole with nutmeg in it? And chili powder?”

  Maddie replaced the lid. Took a step back. “Oh.” At Ivy’s chuckle, she said, “Why doesn’t somebody just, well, maybe show her some new recipes or something?”

  “And hurt her feelings?”

  “Well, I don’t know. Seems like a huge waste of food, otherwise.”

  Ivy looped an arm around Maddie’s shoulders and gave her a brief hug. “Food’s a lot easier to come by than goodwill.” She let go, cramming a floppy brimmed hat over her long, loose hair. “I’ve been meaning to ask…did you call Didi Meyerhauser back? About the Baptist day care co-op?”

  Maddie picked at the buttons on her oversize shirt. “Oh, I don’t know—I mean, leaving Noah and Katie Grace with strangers…”

  “No such thing in Haven, in case you haven’t figured it out by now. And Didi’s got a couple spaces now that the Sommerses moved away. And she said she knows you can’t do your part for some weeks yet, not to worry about that. But you’ll wear yourself out, taking care of two little ones with a new baby. So give her a call. She might laugh you half to death, but she doesn’t bite!”

  Then she disappeared through the back door, a dozen or so leaves fluttering inside in her wake. Maddie started to bend over to pick them up, then remembered that probably wouldn’t be such a hot idea.

  “Noah, honey, would you mind picking those up for me?”

  The boy moaned a little, but he did as she’d asked. When he stood up, she did bend over then, to kiss him on top of his head. He leaned into her for a moment, then pushed away to dump the leaves in the garbage.

  Well. She supposed she should do something about dinner. Not that anybody expected her to, but she could at least stick one of these casseroles in the oven, so it would be ready when the doctor got home. Whenever that might be. Didn’t matter. At least she’d feel like she was earning her keep a little bit, making sure he had a hot meal waiting for him.

  She opened the refrigerator, frowning at the vast array of foil-covered and plastic-lidded containers smirking at her from its depths.

  “Mama? I’m hungry.”

  Having decided against the nutmeg-chili tuna casserole in favor of—she peeked under the foil of the nearest offering—lasagna, Maddie dragged the pan out of the refrigerator, stuck it in the oven, then looked over at her child. Amazing how quickly he’d gotten used to having food whenever he wanted it. Even in two days, she could already see his face filling out some.

  “Supper’s in about forty-five minutes,” she said, knowing he’d just had somebody’s homemade oatmeal cookies and a glass of milk not a half hour ago. “Why don’t you go on into Dr. Ryan’s waiting room and get a book to look at? He said you could.”

  “But I’m starving.”

  Maddie eyed her son, her mouth quirked. Too bad she didn’t still feed the older two the way she did Amy Rose. Then she shoved a hand through her scraggly hair, the grown-out result of a not-entirely-successful beauty-school-student haircut from six months ago. “Have an apple.” She pointed to the heaping fruit bowl in the center of the kitchen table, next to her dozing daughter.

  Noah scrambled up onto a kitchen chair, inspecting every single apple until he found the one that spoke to him, she guessed, a shiny greeny-red MacIntosh. He plopped his fanny on the chair seat and took a bite, chewing with open-mouthed enthusiasm and a small frown as he concentrated on which spot to attack next.

  Maddie smiled, then noticed the small radio on the counter; she went over and turned it on, remembering the country music she’d heard coming from the kitchen this morning. That would be nice, something familiar. Jimmy had always listened to that hard rock stuff that jangled Maddie’s nerves, turned up so high sometimes, she feared for the kids’ hearing. Maddie was partial to ballads, the kind of music you could dance to, all close to your man—

  Maddie made a face at the classical music and went to change the station, only to decide it wouldn’t kill her or anything. So she let it be.

  Katie Grace wandered in, her hair a moist tangle, her thumb in her mouth. Maddie sat at the table, patted her lap for Katie to get up on it. She loved how her babies smelled when they first awakened from a nap, how soft and warm they were. She closed her eyes: her oldest was eating; her youngest asleep; her middle one cuddling on her lap. For the moment, they were in a warm house with plenty of food and fancy music playing in the background. They were safe. And one of her strengths was being able to relish those scraps of contentment that life offered.

  Out of the blue, she wondered if Dr. Logan was happy with his life.

  Why he wasn’t married.

  Neither of which were any of her business and if she knew what was good for her, she’d cut off this train of thought right now.

  After that first day, she couldn’t help but notice the doctor hadn’t seemed much interested in conversation. Oh, he’d checked on her and Amy Rose ten times a day, it seemed, but never stayed for more than a few minutes. And the dinners they’d shared the first two nights had both been interrupted by calls, one requiring him to leave the house before he even got a chance to finish. He’d been as kind as ever, and polite, but there was definitely something missing.
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  Maddie told herself it was not up to her to try to figure out what that was. Besides, they weren’t going to be there long. As soon as she could get up to see Jimmy’s Uncle Ned—Dr. Logan said he thought maybe next week, when she could express enough milk to leave Amy Rose with Ivy for a little while, since he didn’t think it was such a good idea to take an infant into the hospital if she didn’t have to—everything would be fine, she was sure of it.

  Who was she kidding? She wasn’t sure of anything. Not that she bought for a second the doctor’s protests about the condition of Ned’s house. Maddie could make a home wherever she had to. But what if Ned didn’t want her and the kids living with them?

  “You think we could watch TV?” Noah asked, tugging at her shirt.

  Took a second for her brain to snap back into focus. “I suppose.”

  “I don’t know how to work it.”

  With a sigh, Maddie set Katie down, smiling for Amy Rose, whose mouth was all puckered in her sleep, and followed Noah into the living room, a large front room that seemed to be all windows. Like the rest of the house, the furniture was old and more than a little threadbare, the colors faded, but the chairs and sofa matched, as did the end tables and coffee table. One thing she had to say about the place—it was clean as a whistle. Neat. No clutter anywhere. It just didn’t look like anybody really lived in it.

  The TV was on the small side, no remote, with the off-on button cover missing. But once she got the thing going, the picture was pretty good.

  “I don’t know the stations here,” she said, punching through the channels. Nothing much for a child to watch at six o’clock, that was for sure, especially with no cable. But then, she didn’t suppose Dr. Logan watched much TV—

  “There, Mama! An animal show!”

  Maddie got the children settled down on the saggy cushioned sofa, then traipsed back through the old-fashioned, formal dining room toward the kitchen, letting out a little gasp of surprise when she found Dr. Logan standing there, frowning at the collection of pies, cakes and shower-cap covered paper plates heaped with every kind of cookie there was.

  She’d forgotten just how tall he was.

  “Where the heck did all this stuff come from?”

  “Everybody and her cousin,” Maddie said, telling herself there was no reason to feel jittery around him. “It’s a crying shame, though. I mean, there’s no way we can eat it all before it goes bad. Maybe we could give some of it away?”

  The doctor nodded. He still had on his hat and coat, although it was open so he could park his hands on his hips. It must be cold out, she thought, realizing she hadn’t been outside since she got here. “Let me think on this for a minute. Seems to me there’s gotta be some folks who might appreciate our spreading around the wealth a little.” Then he looked at her and grinned. Not a big one, but enough to make his eyes crinkle up at the corners. “Long as we make sure we don’t accidentally give anything back. That could be disastrous.”

  What could be disastrous, Maddie realized, was her fluttery reaction to his grin. Not that this should be surprising, considering what was going on in her life and that he was so soft-spoken and decent. And protective. Add to that her screwy hormones, and it stood to reason she’d be feeling a little addlepated around him. Since that was all it was, however, she decided it wasn’t worth thinking too hard about. She even laughed a little. “I made sure to take note of who gave what. So I could send thank-you notes down the road.”

  That got a pair of lifted brows. “Thank-you notes?”

  Maddie shrugged. “My foster mother got me in the habit. It’s nice to let people know you appreciate their effort, I’ve always felt.”

  He didn’t seem to know what to say to that. He shrugged off his jacket, hung it up on a hook by the back door, along with his hat. “How’re you feeling?” he asked, forking one hand through his thick hair.

  “Pretty good,” she said. “A little tired.”

  “Amy Rose nursing okay?”

  “Like she was born to it.”

  That got another little smile. He twisted around to the refrigerator, grabbed the handle. “Where’re the kids?”

  “Watching TV.” Then she blushed. “I hope that’s okay, I don’t want you to think we’re taking over your house or anything….”

  His stunned look stopped her short. “You’re my guests, Maddie. You’re free to go wherever you like, use whatever I have—” he finally opened the refrigerator, then groaned “—eat whatever you happen to find. What’s this?” He pointed to one of the casseroles.

  Maddie peered around him to see. “Arliss Potts’s tuna casserole.”

  “Except this,” he said, pulling the dish off the shelf.

  “It’s really that bad?”

  “Maddie, I’m a bachelor. I eat anything. Anything but this.”

  Well, that decided it then. On a sigh, she took the casserole from him to empty it into the lined garbage can under the sink. Except he intercepted it, gently pushing her out of the way.

  “What are you doing?” she asked.

  “It’s what I don’t want you doing that’s the issue here,” he said, scraping the gloppy stuff into the can. “You just gave birth three days ago. I want you taking it easy.”

  “If I take it any easier, I’ll stop functioning altogether. Besides,” she went on before he could protest, “what about those peasants who squat in the fields, have their babies, then go right on with their work?”

  “Those peasants aren’t twenty pounds underweight and anemic.”

  Well. She had nothing to say to that, she supposed. The kids laughed at something on TV. Maddie wandered over to the kitchen doorway, straining to hear that they hadn’t changed the channel to something too adult for them. Jimmy had let them watch anything at all, no matter how inappropriate it was for little kids. Then he’d laugh off her fussing at him, tell her to stop being such a priss—

  “Your husband didn’t exactly pamper you during your pregnancies, did he?”

  She whirled around, a little too sharply, grabbing onto the edge of the counter to keep from losing her balance. Dr. Logan was beside her in an instant, guiding her into a chair. “Seems your body’s trying to make my point for me.”

  “I just turned too fast, is all. I’m fine.” She tried to stand; he didn’t let her.

  “Yes, you are. Remarkably well, in fact. Although I’m beginning to wonder about your mental faculties.”

  Her gaze darted to his, her heart skipping at the intensity sparking in those clear, light eyes. He bent closer, one hand on her shoulder, the other braced on the edge of the table. Close enough to feel his breath, warm and peppermint-scented, on her face; to see each individual golden hair stubbling his cheeks.

  To see far more concern for her condition in those eyes than she ever had in Jimmy’s. Not even at the beginning.

  “You listening to me?”

  Maddie blinked, which for some reason cleared her head. “Uh…yeah.”

  “You may feel pretty good right now, but you’re not in the clear yet. So you will take it easy until either I or Ivy tell you you’re okay to do more, you got that?” He abruptly straightened, leaving her feel a little like a windblown leaf plastered to the side of a house. “Now—” he walked over, grabbed a pair of pot holders “—what’s in the oven?”

  “Lasagne. I just put it in, though, a couple minutes ago. Thought maybe I’d make a salad to go with it, I noticed you had some stuff in the refrigerator—”

  She started to get up. One look from Dr. Logan and she thought better of it.

  “Salad sounds good,” he said. “I can do that.” He walked over to the refrigerator, his movements agile, unselfconscious. Those of a man completely unaware of how good-looking he is.

  Maddie shut her eyes.

  “You okay?”

  She opened them again. Dr. Logan was crouched in front of the refrigerator, digging in the vegetable bin. He pulled out a head of iceberg lettuce, a cucumber, two tomatoes. The lettuce had some
brown spots on it.

  “I’m fine.”

  Which couldn’t have been further from the truth, but since her not-fineness wasn’t anything that either made a lick of sense or could be put into words, anyway, she figured she may as well just leave it lay.

  The doctor clunked the salad stuff up onto the counter; the baby let out a startled squeal. He got to her in a stride and a half, even though Maddie was literally right there.

  “She probably needs to be changed,” he said. “I’ll be right back.”

  Frowning, although she wasn’t completely sure why, Maddie propped her elbow on the table, sinking her chin into her palm. Didn’t seem like ten seconds had passed before the doctor returned, ten seconds more before he’d plopped a changing pad on the table and changed Amy Rose’s wet diaper. Then he picked her up in those large, careful hands, grinning at her and making the silliest noises at her daughter she’d ever heard come out of a man’s mouth, before handing her to Maddie.

  “So how come you don’t have six of these of your own?” she asked, settling Amy in for yet another feed, only to immediately think, Oh, Lord, there I go again.

  Maybe one day before she turned ninety she’d learn to think first, talk second. She didn’t hold out a lot of hope for that, though. As the baby blithely sucked away, she lifted her gaze to see the doctor’s jerky movements as he yanked down a wooden bowl from the cabinet, clattered a small wooden chopping block onto the counter. “So,” he said, whacking away at the cucumber. “I hear Didi Meyerhauser called. About the day care.”