Bachelor Doc, Unexpected Dad. Dianne Drake
she’d read that it was an expanding field with growth potential, she’d jumped at the chance to be part of it, anxious to combine her love of medicine with her love of drawing. Of course, more education had been required. Two additional years of study on top of the four she’d had in nursing school. In those two years, however, she’d gone from not only wanting to be an illustrator but wanting to build her own company. And it was also exciting. Even now, she had no regrets.
“Yes, I know you were a nurse—for about a minute—then you moved on. Remember that?”
“And those charts of fetal development you have hanging on the wall in your waiting room...” She smiled. She’d done them. And she’d illustrated numerous medical texts. Plus, they were doing medical videography now.
Doc Shaffer laughed. “Point taken. You’ve made a name for yourself, but that name must cut back on her hours, and get more rest. You work too hard, Ellie, and while I’m an advocate for women getting on with their lives when they’re pregnant, your life is a little over the top. In other words, baby needs some rest.”
Rest—that she would do. Even though she wasn’t going to keep this baby, she did want to give it every advantage she could coming into this world, and keeping herself healthy was the start of it. “So, is that all you want? Or would you like another pint of blood?”
Doc Shaffer chuckled. “You know what I want, and at the rate you’re going, that’s a big order.”
“Then I’ll do better,” she promised. And she would. While Ellie didn’t want the responsibility of raising a child, not with her fear of turning out to be the kind of mother hers was, she certainly didn’t want to put this baby at risk. She’d made her choice the day her dipstick had gone from blue to pink, and nothing had changed since then. She’d tell Dr. Matt McClain he was going to be a father and give him the option to raise their baby. Or she would opt for adoption, if he didn’t want to. It was all straightforward. Ellie owned a business and that was her life, all she wanted. Real babies, boyfriends and husbands were not needed.
So all Ellie had to do now was tell someone who’d expected a couple of casual days of fun at a medical convention that casual had turned into commitment. If that’s what he wanted. He’d seemed like a nice guy. A little distracted. But kind. And polite. Really good looking...traditionally tall, dark and handsome, and rugged. Dark eyes, wavy black hair, rugged. Built like she’d never seen another man built.
Just thinking about him now gave Ellie goose-bumps. The way he’d looked those couple of nights when she’d let go of her self-made business-first rules, let her hair down and lived in a fantasy that had never happened in her reality was still with her. He’d hung on in her mind long after Reno. From time to time she’d even caught herself distracted by a daydream of him. A leftover feeling she couldn’t explain and didn’t want to explore. Then the reality of those days had crept in, about six weeks later.
And now, well—all Ellie had to do was the figurative baby-in-a-basket-on-the-doorstep thing, and hope he’d take that basket in. It was his baby too and not only did he have the right to know, he had the right to be a daddy, if that’s what he wanted. Or be involved in the adoption process, if that’s what he wanted. Either way, she’d know what was going to happen soon. Ellie was glad he was out of the military now and back home, because from here she was headed straight to Forgeburn, Utah.
* * *
“It’s not a traditional medical practice,” Dr. Donald Granger explained. “But you know that since you’re from here. Most of it’s a cowboy practice now, and that’s about as tough as it gets. Then you’ve got some of the canyon resort areas with tourists who need medical care occasionally. And we do have some locals in a couple little spread-out towns. There’s a pretty fair patient base—enough to keep one doc busy.
“If you need help, the clinic in Whipple Creek will usually send someone out for a day or two, but you’ve got to keep in mind that you’re the only real medical help within a hundred miles in any direction. So what you’ll be getting is a practice that stretches out for more miles than any practical medical practice should have to, house calls that’ll take up half your day for something minor—and, yes, house calls are part of what the people here expect—and the cowboy trailers—good luck finding those.
“It’s a hard life, son. But a good one. People will appreciate you more because access to you isn’t easy for many of them. And there’s no one to rely on but you, which develops stamina. And courage. Lots of courage.”
“If it’s so good,” Matt asked, “why are you giving it up?” He had qualms about taking over a GP practice, even if only for a little while because being back home came with all kinds of bad memories, and he was afraid those might surface at the wrong times and prevent him from doing his best. Plus, he wasn’t a GP. That was another big drawback. In fact, the only good thing was that it would keep him busy, and he needed that. Lucas was a great kid, but spending every minute of every day together wasn’t good for either of them. They both needed some separation from time to time.
“I’ve been doing it for fifty years, as you know, since I took care of you when you were little. And these old bones aren’t rugged enough anymore. Also, I’ve got grandkids who don’t even know me. So it’s time for me to move on, to rest the weary bones and play with the grandkids.”
“You do realize I’m only going to be a temp here. Once the situation with Lucas gets straightened out, I have to report back to duty. They’ve given me two months, which is the time I’ve accrued for regular leave. So you’ll still have to keep looking for someone to buy you out.”
“Or close the practice for good if I can’t.” Dr. Granger held out his hands. They were knotted with arthritis. “These hands can’t do the job anymore, Matt, or I would carry on. I wouldn’t want to see this place go without a doctor, but most of the young docs coming out of medical school want something better than what I’ve got to offer, and the older docs who have had something better now want something simpler. Practicing in Forgeburn doesn’t just take love for the work, it takes love for the work here.”
That would never happen. Once child services had a good placement for Lucas, he’d be gone. Being here was only a matter of circumstances, and Matt wasn’t staying because he wanted to. He was staying for Lucas. “So, when do you want me to start?”
“Are you sure about this, Matt? Do you really want to do this?”
“No. But, I’m not staying here for me. The army has me and I’ll go back as soon as I can.”
“And that little one you’re looking after?”
“Lucas is a good kid, and I’m going to make sure I’ve found the best situation for him before I leave. If that means staying here for longer than I’d wanted, that’s what I’ll do because I don’t want him growing up the way I did. You know how it was with Janice and me, Doc—and no kid deserves that.”
“But you came through it, Matt, and look at you now.”
Yes, just look at him. The man who knew nothing about kids as temporary guardian of a child he couldn’t raise. Kids needed much more than anything he had to offer. In fact, as it stood, Matt had nothing to offer whatsoever. His life in the army didn’t mix with domesticity in any form. “But my sister didn’t, which is why I have to do what I’m doing. I owe it to her to do this for Lucas.” Even though he was sure Janice’s intention had been for him to keep the boy. But that wouldn’t work out.
“Well, OK, then. How about starting right now? Oh, and talk to Betty Nelson about watching Lucas. She’s a retired teacher. Really good with little ones. I couldn’t recommend anyone better than her.”
“I’ll do that,” Matt said, thinking back to his grade-school days. Betty Nelson had been his teacher for a year. She’d paid for his lunch, and Janice’s, when he hadn’t had money—which had been pretty much every day. And she’d made sure that he’d had his school supplies even though his dad had refused to pay for them. She’d be a perfect babysitter for Lucas, and