The Doctor's Second Chance. Missy Tippens
she seems fine. Did she cry again last night?”
“From about nine to midnight.”
“Looking more like we’re dealing with colic.”
His phone buzzed again. “Excuse me just a minute. I have a problem at work.”
“Go ahead. I’ll walk with her outside and see if I can calm her.” Violet swaddled the baby in a receiving blanket, then went through the kitchen and out the back door.
The text was from Zeb again. Mrs. E says she hopes you won’t let babysitting interfere with your job.
Mrs. Emerson was the owner of one of the homes they were building. She tended to walk around the work site in a business suit and three-inch high heels, breathing down everyone’s neck. But Jake wanted her to love her home.
He got Zeb on the phone. “Tell Mrs. Emerson not to worry. I want my customers happy.”
“Will do.” Zeb snickered. “Baby is fussy, huh? Sounds like you’re a regular Mr. Mom.”
Jake had seen the man with his grandkids. Zeb had a tough-as-nails exterior and a marshmallow-puff interior. “Yeah, you keep making fun. Next time I see you swinging beside one of your grandkids at the park, you’ll never hear the end of it.”
“Well, Mr. Mom has a backbone after all.”
Jake snorted a laugh. “The girl has been fussy. Temp is a little elevated.”
“When in doubt, go to the doctor. Another excuse to get cozy with the cute new pediatrician who about chewed your rear off Saturday.”
Wondering how many people had overheard that discussion made his face burn. “The doc is actually here checking her now. But I assure you, there’s no coziness where Violet Crenshaw is concerned.” A quick glance out the back door gave him a good excuse to avoid the topic. “In fact, I need to go check on them.”
“You do that, Jake.” Zeb was laughing as he disconnected.
* * *
Soft, jet-black hair that smelled like baby shampoo brushed against Violet’s cheek, melting her insides. Calm and relaxed, she was pleased her first appointment wasn’t until eight-thirty. She didn’t need to hurry home.
And Abigail seemed to be relaxing, too. Was getting sleepy.
Jake came out the back door. The sight of him in a T-shirt that molded to his work-toned muscles instantly shot her heart rate up, undoing any soothing from holding Abigail.
“How’s she doing?” he asked.
“Better.” She smiled at him, knowing he could use some encouragement.
He held up the thermometer he’d brought with him, then took another reading. “Ninety-eight point seven.” His shoulders dropped. “That’s good. I feel stupid for worrying.”
“Don’t apologize for erring on the side of caution. Little ones like this can get sick quickly.”
“I was afraid I’d done something wrong bathing her last night. Was afraid she’d gotten chilled. She wasn’t a happy camper through that nightmare.”
Violet bit back a smile. “Bathing will get easier.”
“I hope. I think I took too long. She was okay at first, but then the water got cool. She started squalling, all stiff and furious. I bundled her up afterward, making sure she warmed up.”
Violet’s chest squeezed. The image of this tall, brawny man doing something sweet like warming a chilled baby battered at her heart.
He held out his arms for Abigail.
Hating to give up the warm, sleeping bundle, she handed her over, willing a steel rod into her spine instead of the gelatin this man had put there. “You’re doing fine, Jake. Do you think the fussiness this morning seemed different from the crying she’s done at night?”
“Definitely. This morning’s fussiness hasn’t been as severe. At night, no matter what I do to comfort her, she continually shrieks—which, for the record, is horrendous.”
“I can imagine.”
“I walk the floor, rocking her, singing, cracking dumb jokes, doing everything but standing on my head. It’s as if I’m not even there.” He shrugged, his eyes troubled. “I’ve never felt so helpless in my life.”
Warning, warning! No melting of heart allowed.
“Today, though, I could console her briefly. She didn’t all-out cry, just whimpered and whined.”
“Hmm. That does sound more like a baby feeling ill. There’s a chance she has a tummy ache or some gas. Are you remembering to burp her after her bottles?”
“Yes. But she has been drawing up her legs as if her stomach hurts. One of my subcontractors mentioned a change of formula curing his grandchild’s colic.”
Violet would make a note of the stomach pain in Abigail’s file. “Every now and then, I’ve found changing to lactose-free formula does help. How about I bring some samples to you at lunchtime?”
“It would be easier if I just dropped by to pick them up. Besides, I’d feel better if you weighed the little gal. To make sure she’s growing okay.”
His concern made her stomach swoop. “I’ll be happy to weigh her for you. Come by at noon.”
“Great, thanks.”
Jake carefully wrapped the blanket tighter around Abigail, every tuck of the fabric jarring loose more of the protective barrier from around Violet’s heart, releasing the longing she’d held at bay for so long.
Longing for a husband of her own and a baby to love.
She worked with babies every day. Why was Abigail different?
Could the difference be Jake? What was it about him that gave her crazy notions of love and family?
He rubbed his big, strong hand over Abigail’s tiny head. It hit her then why Jake affected her so. It was because he was a single guy suddenly stuck with a baby.
A guy who needed Violet’s help.
Cold rushed through her veins. She absolutely could not allow herself to fall into the being-needed trap. That’s how she’d gotten sucked into an inappropriately intense—and intimate—relationship with Hank in high school. And ended up pregnant.
She would never, ever again get sucked in by a needy man.
Jake’s not really needy, a little niggling voice said. He’s not manipulating you, demanding your total devotion. He’s just a strong man in a temporary, unfamiliar situation.
He kissed the baby’s forehead and then looked into Violet’s eyes. The moment went on longer than normal—too long—and suddenly something flared between them.
Violet could barely breathe. “We’re usually closed at lunch, so if no one is at the front desk, come on back to the first exam room.”
“Okay. We’ll see you at noon.” His grateful smile did crazy things to her insides.
“I, uh, need to get to the office.” She shot toward the row of hedges between their houses, escaping the handsome babysitter who made her want things she feared wanting.
* * *
A grinning puppy with human-like teeth mocked Jake.
The pup was pictured on a giant, kid-friendly poster hanging on the wall in the pediatric exam room. This whole scenario—him in the former office of the family who raised him, being questioned about a baby who shouldn’t be in his care by the woman who had “bought” the practice from them—was laughable. Sad, but laughable.
Violet, who’d been so helpful that morning, had turned back into serious doctor mode at the office.