Her Maverick M.d.. Teresa Southwick
as you said,” her sister reminded her, “if it wasn’t right for them deep down, they wouldn’t have done it. And those two are ridiculously in love.”
“Still—”
“Obviously the doctor didn’t have any punch.” The words were said in that tone a big sister used to shut the door on a disagreement.
“Why are you defending him?”
“Why are you so critical?” Marina shot back. “Could it have anything to do with the fact that he’s handsome and new? And the last time someone handsome and new walked into your life your world fell apart? Because he sweet-talked you out of your knickers after specifically telling you he was single and then his fiancée showed up and all the people you worked with treated you like a home wrecker? Could that be what’s going on with you?”
“No.” Dawn folded her arms over her chest.
Marina laughed but instantly stopped when she got the glare. “No offense.”
“None taken.”
“But seriously, I think you’ve got a thing for Dr. Clifton and because you were burned so badly, you’re making up reasons to peg him as a jerk.”
“But seriously,” Dawn said, imitating her sister’s tone. “I still think you’re a lunatic.”
“One man’s lunatic is another man’s genius.” It was annoying how unfazed this woman was. “I completely understand your instinct to protect yourself. Our father split and left mom alone to raise us, then only showed up when it was convenient for him. My baby’s father ran screaming from the room when I told him I was pregnant and never showed up again. And the new doctor you took a chance on was a lying, cheating snake who made your life a living hell.”
“Don’t sugarcoat it.” Dawn sighed. “We are pathetic. Really. The curse of the Laramie women to hook up with the wrong kind of man.”
“And by focusing on the perceived faults of the handsome new Dr. Clifton, you’re trying to break the curse.”
There was a little too much truth in those words for Dawn’s peace of mind. Time to shift the focus of this conversation. “What would you do?”
“Fortunately, I won’t ever have to find out. Sydney is the best thing that has ever happened to me and we don’t need a man to take care of us.” She picked up the little girl who’d started to fuss.
That was an interesting response because it completely didn’t answer the question. “I’m probably wrong and you’re the teacher, but I think that was a non sequitur.”
“Well, I’m not the one with the man problem.” She pointed at Dawn. “You will have to find a way to deal with the situation—because you are wildly attracted to the new doctor.”
“You’re wrong.”
At least Dawn hoped so. But she couldn’t swear to it because her sister knew her better than anyone. It was a bad sign that a conversation which should have relieved her anxiety just made her more conflicted.
* * *
“Okay, Tucker, I’m going to take a look at your knee.” Jon saw fear bordering on panic in the kid’s blue eyes.
The eleven-year-old looked at his mom, then back to Jon. “Don’t touch it.”
“I’m not going to do anything. Right now I just need to look.”
“Promise?”
Jon knew stitches would be necessary, but he needed to work up to that revelation with a skittish kid. “I’ll put my hands behind my back.”
He glanced at Dawn who was standing by. For just a moment her mouth curved into a smile, but when she noticed him looking it disappeared, and she wouldn’t glance his way again. What had put that guarded look in her eyes and, more important, how could he get her to drop it? If anything, she grew more reserved every day. She hardly spoke to him unless it was about work and walked out of any room he entered if she didn’t need to be there for a patient.
“Okay,” Tucker said.
Distracted, Jon met the boy’s gaze. “Hmm?”
“You can look, but you have to put your hands behind your back first.” His dirty, freckled face was streaked with tears and his shaggy brown hair in need of a trim fell into his eyes.
Jon held up his hands, then clasped them behind his back. “Just looking.”
“How did you get that nasty gash?” Dawn moved beside the exam table where the boy had his legs stretched out in front of him.
Jon knew that it was strictly professional because of the way she deliberately didn’t look at him. She was distracting the boy, using her pediatric nursing skill.
“Me and my friends were playing by the creek.” He shrugged. “I fell on a sharp rock.”
“Looks like it hurt.”
The laceration was about five centimeters long and deep, down to the fat, but fortunately he couldn’t see bone. Sutures were definitely necessary.
Jon straightened and folded his arms over his chest. “Okay, kid, I’m going to give it to you straight. This needs stitches.”
“No way.” Tucker folded his arms over his chest, too, as stubbornness settled on his young face.
“Well, you could choose to do nothing, but your knee will keep bleeding.”
“I don’t care.”
“I do.” Molly Hendrickson had the same freckles and brown hair as her son.
Jon met the boy’s mistrustful gaze. “I could leave it alone if that’s what you want, but before deciding there are some things you should take into consideration.”
“Like what?”
“It’s deep and will take a long time to heal. And it’s in a bad spot because you bend it and all that movement keeps the wound from closing up. On top of that, until it closes you can’t get dirt in it or you risk an infection.”
Doubt cut through the kid’s stubborn expression. “Would that hurt?”
“Yeah it would.” Jon shrugged. “Bottom line is you’ll spend what’s left of your summer in the house with your leg propped up.”
“Mom—”
“He’s the doctor, Tuck.” Molly looked sympathetic but resigned.
“How bad will stitches hurt?”
“A little. But probably not as much as when you fell.” In his experience treating children, it helped not to talk down to them. Jon believed in telling the patient exactly what was going to happen. “I’ll swab some medicine around the cut so when I give you the shot to numb the area it won’t hurt as bad. I promise you won’t feel any pain when I close up that laceration.”
“You’ll still have to keep it clean,” Dawn said. “But it won’t take as long to heal and you’ll have a little summer left to get as dirty as you want.”
“He probably appreciates permission to be grubby, but trust me, he doesn’t need it.” Molly tenderly brushed the hair off his forehead. “It is what it is. A little summer left is better than nothing. Man up, buddy.”
“Okay.” He glared. “But I’m not going to look.”
“Me, either,” Jon said.
“You have to.” Tucker saw his grin and looked sheepish. “Oh. You’re messing with me.”
“I am.” Jon saw Dawn smile, then shut it down when she glanced at him.
Jon tamped down his irritation. The way she always did that was really starting to bug him. But he couldn’t deal with it now. Soon, though.