P.S. You're a Daddy!. Dianne Drake

P.S. You're a Daddy! - Dianne  Drake


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trees.”

      “And I have an idea down there, somewhere amongst those trees, someone might be looking up here. Brax is too idle these days, doesn’t have enough to keep him busy, and he got that little glint in his eyes when I told him I was going to drop in on you.”

      Impulsively, she waved in the direction of the Alexander ranch. “You should have brought him along.”

      “He’s a stubborn old bastard. Fought the development up here when it happened, claimed it wouldn’t be good for his patients. And as far as I know, he’s never been up here.”

      “Then he’s missing out, because the view of his ranch is stunning. Even though from here you look like ants.” She shifted, tucked her feet up under her, thought she could get used to this. “So, any word from the hospital?”

      “Mack, the truck driver, did well in surgery. They saved his leg, removed his spleen, took out part of his liver. Put him in traction for his pelvis. Tough road ahead for him, lots of rehab in his future, but he’s got a good family, a huge family, actually, and they’ll get him through it.”

      And all she had was this baby. Amazing, though, how the developing life inside her connected her to so much more than she could have ever expected. She and the baby might not be a large family but they’d be a good family. “Did he get any of that birthday cake?”

      Beau chuckled. “Not yet. His family decided to put off the birthday celebration until he’s able to eat solid food again.”

      “Good family,” she said, truly glad for the man. “And the other couple? The ones who went over the edge?”

      “Lucky all the way around for them. A few sprains, strains and bruises. Husband went home this morning, but they’re keeping the wife an extra day because she had a slight concussion. And Lucas is fine, too. Social Services is looking for relatives who can take him in, but right now he’s still with Janice Parsons, the minivan driver you gave him to, and she’s going to keep him until other arrangements are made. So, how are you doing? That was a lot of effort for your first day in Sugar Creek. You look tired.”

      “First day? More like first hour. And, yes, I’m tired. Didn’t sleep much last night, which means I’m paying the price for it this morning.” Stretching her back, she stifled a yawn. “But basically I’m OK. What brings you up here this early other than to see if I’m spying on your ranch? Don’t you have patients to see?”

      “I save my mornings for … well, I’ll admit it. I spend time with my horses. Childhood passion I’m getting to indulge now that I’ve come back to Sugar Creek. So barring a heavy schedule or an emergency, I block out a couple of morning hours to spend time in the stables. And if there’s nothing pressing for the next hour or so, I like to do physical work on the ranch. The medical practice comes first, of course, but I believe in balance in all things, and a good part of my balance is tied to the ranch. Oh, and I do house calls in the evenings.”

      “Seriously? You make house calls?”

      “Comes with the job when your medical practice is so spread out. It’s necessary out here, and it gives me a chance to get off the ranch. It’s especially nice if I can ride my horse.”

      “Tennessee cowboy doctor,” she commented. The image of him on a horse was … nice. “In some parts of the medical world you’d be laughed at for your old-school ways.”

      “I have a surgical practice in New York and I can pretty well guarantee my patients there wouldn’t care to see me ride up on my horse.”

      At his mention of New York a chill shot up her spine. That got her right back to his sperm donation—in a New York clinic—and the fact that she was carrying his baby. All of it a wet blanket effect that caused her to straighten up on the swing, kick off the casual stance and don the starched one. “Yet here you are in Sugar Creek, being a country GP. How is that working out for you?”

      “Let’s just say I’m still getting used to it. Still trying to get myself settled into it after almost a year. And still trying to figure out whether or not I’ll succeed in it, as part of me is still city surgeon. But all that said, I do like the lifestyle I have here. I’ve never worked harder in my life, and never had such a sense of … freedom.”

      Was this a good idea? Sitting here, actually getting to know the baby’s father—when her only intention had been to come here and observe from afar, maybe sample some of the local flavor and hope to pick up a few tidbits about him as she did. Never had she planned on … well, this!

      Deanna, I don’t know what to do. I just got a phone call from the clinic. The baby you’re carrying isn’t Alex’s. There was a name mix-up. Similar names, I think.

      Emily’s words had started a nightmare that had ended right here in Sugar Creek, on the porch, sitting comfortably next to her. “Yet you don’t know if you’re staying or going?”

      “I love it here. Always have. But loving it and settling down here are two different things and I’m not sure if I’m cut out to be a country doctor for the rest of my life. In fact, I’d never really thought much past New York until I got the call that Brax had had a stroke and I was needed home for a while.” He shrugged. “You do what you have to do, and for now this is what I have to do.”

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