A Child to Heal Their Hearts. Dianne Drake
placement. Maybe even a good family who would eventually adopt Megan. One who’d been on the waiting list, praying for a beautiful two-year-old girl. Sure, it was a long shot, she knew that. But it was also a very nice dream—a dream she’d never had for her own.
“That’s possible,” he said. “But unlikely. In the meantime, you look like you’re due for a few hours of sleep.”
Yes, she did want that sleep. More now that he’d mentioned it. Hypnotic effect—her eyelids were getting heavy. “Definitely no hospital, so I guess it looks like I’m staying. I think I’ll talk to Megan for a minute then I’ll take you up on that cabin. Oh, and, Reid, I really am sorry to put you through this. If there’s anything I can do...”
“How about I carry her to the infirmary then you can tuck her in while I run over to the girls’ dorm and check on my daughters?” He smiled. “They may think they’re getting away from Dad, but it’s not happening. Anyway, one last kiss goodnight while you settle Megan in, then I’ll point you in the direction of the guest cabin and you’re on your own. Oh, and breakfast is at eight. Big white building in the middle of the complex. Meals are prompt, but if you sleep in, I always have cereal and milk in my own kitchen.”
He was tall, a bit lanky. Wore wire-rimmed glasses, needed a haircut. She liked his scraggly look, though. Light brown hair, slightly curly, slightly over his collar. Slight dimple in his chin. And, oh, those blue eyes. Wow, they were perceptive. So much so they almost scared her. “I don’t sleep much so I’ll be good to grab something with everybody else.”
“I’m just saying...” he said, scooping Megan into his arms and heading out to the infirmary.
* * *
Keera opened the door to the infirmary, saw exactly four beds. It was a tidy space, not large, not lush. Just basic. “Do many of your kids get sick?”
“Not really. By the point in their recovery that they’re allowed to come to camp, they’re usually pretty far along in the whole process, with all kinds of specialists making the determination whether or not they’re ready for the whole camping experience. In other words, barring normal things like colds and flu, they’re usually doing pretty well.”
“Well, it sounds like you’re doing important work. So don’t you think the owners would put a little more effort into the medical facility that might have to treat those kids? I mean, this place will suffice, but it could certainly stand some updates and expansion.” After Reid laid Megan in the bed, Keera pulled up the blanket to cover her. “Closer to the clinic would be nice, too, to save you some steps.”
“Are you always like this?”
“What?”
“Outspoken. Opinionated. Whatever you want to call it.” Grabbing a fresh digital thermometer from the drawer in the stand next to the bed, he pulled it from its wrapper, punched the button and waited for it to calibrate. “Something to say pretty much on every subject.” The thermometer end went under Megan’s tongue the same time his eyes went to Keera’s. “I’m right about that, aren’t I?”
“It’s been said.” Amongst a lot worse things. “I’m a cardiac surgeon in a large hospital, and—”
“I know who you are.”
“How?”
“Internet search.”
“When?”
“Earlier. After you called. You sounded like someone who might come back to haunt me later on, so I decided to read up. Good thing I did, because...”
She smiled, almost apologetically but not quite. “Because I came back to haunt you.”
The thermometer beeped and Reid pulled it out and read it. Then shook his head. “One hundred three and a couple of decimal points.” Immediately, he pulled up Megan’s eyelids, took a look. She responded by whimpering and trying to jerk away from him.
“I talked to Beau a couple hours ago. He’d looked at the records we have for her, saw nothing significant. In fact, the only time she’s been to the office was when her parents first moved to Sugar Creek, and they were establishing me as their pediatrician. I gave her a preliminary exam, sort of as a baseline, and there was nothing remarkable. She’s developed properly for a child her age, and according to her parents there’s no history of any chronic illness or condition.
“But that’s me taking their word for it because they never had her medical records transferred to us, and there’s no mention of a former pediatrician, so right now we really know very little. Which means we’re coming into her care pretty much blind.”
“Trust me, blind is bad.”
“I get the feeling that has nothing to do with Megan.”
“Actually, it has everything to do with her. But not in the medical sense.”
Pulling out his stethoscope, Reid listened to the child’s chest, her heart, her tummy then pulled out his earpieces. “Didn’t hear anything more remarkable than what you probably heard. Bilateral congestion, wheezing.” He shrugged. “Indicative of any number of things. Which means I’m going to need lab work that I’m not equipped to do here.”
“Did it before I came here. Results should be in by morning. And I have her X-ray in the car.”
“You come prepared. Too bad all my patients don’t come in with all their tests already done.”
“Like I told you, I don’t know a thing about children. Don’t treat them, don’t operate on them, don’t want to. But getting everything done beforehand seemed logical.”
“Well, even though you’ve complicated my life by bringing her here, you’ve made my complication easier.”
“You’re not supposed to treat anybody who’s not at camp? Is that the problem? Because I can talk to the owner or director. Apologize. Make the appropriate donation for her care, if that’s what’s needed to make this better.”
“Actually, I own the camp so I can do what I want. And donations are always welcome. But just so you’ll know, she’s got the start of a rash on her stomach, so I think she’s probably coming down with measles, most likely in the early part of its three or four days of infectivity. Meaning while she’s in here I can’t have other children anywhere near her. So if somebody else needs the facility...” He shrugged. “I’ll treat her here for now, certainly for the night, and we’ll do the best we can with what we have. But I can’t make any promises beyond that. Fair enough?”
“More than fair,” she said, grateful for what he was offering.
“Have you had measles, by the way?”
“Not that I remember. But I don’t remember a lot of my childhood, so I don’t really know.”
“Vaccinated?”
“That, I was. Required in school.” When she had gone, which hadn’t been too often. “Could this be something else, though? An allergic reaction of some sort?” Reid Adams was an acclaimed pediatrician—she’d done her Internet surfing as well. So it was highly unlikely he’d make a mistake of a pretty basic diagnosis. Still, an allergic reaction resulting in a rash beat measles any day, so she was keeping her fingers crossed.
“If I were a betting man, I’d bet she’s going to have a full-blown rash by this time tomorrow.”
“And you still want to keep her? Especially with all the other children being so susceptible? I mean, I could take her to a hotel someplace close, so she wouldn’t have to suffer that long drive back tonight.”
“She’s too congested to move her any place, if we don’t have to. It would risk complications. And she has to be sick somewhere, doesn’t she? Seeing that you’re not in favor of taking her to the hospital, which would really be the only place I’d approve sending her...”
“If she absolutely needs