Saving Dr. Ryan (8 page)

There was no mistaking the family resemblance.

Maddie looked around for something to cover herself up with, settled on a kitchen towel she could just barely reach from where she was sitting. Not that she was the least bit self-conscious about breast-feeding her baby, but in her experience, it made most men uncomfortable.

Although right now, the doctor seemed to be the most uncomfortable person in the room. “What in tarnation are you doing here, Cal?”

The smile stretched out over a long, strong-jawed face, revealed a double set of deeply etched dimples. And Maddie
knew, the way a woman just knows these things, that Cal Logan was one of those men your mama always warned you about. If you had a mama, that is.

“In a word…Ethel.” He lifted up the cake a little. “Shoved this into my hands, gave me explicit orders not to do a blessed thing until I delivered it.” Except then he went to set the cake on the counter and his smile dimmed. “Looks like somebody beat me to it.”

“Hell, Cal, half the county beat you to it.” Dr. Ryan waved the knife in the direction of all the goodies. “And when you go, please—take something back with you.”

“And risk bringin' Ethel's wrath down around my head? Not on your life.” Then, while Maddie was trying to decide if Ethel was Cal's wife or what, he walked right over to her, apparently not the least bit affected by what she was doing, and thrust out a hand. “Since my brother's lived alone so long he's forgotten his manners, I'll introduce myself. Cal Logan.”

Maddie shifted the baby a bit to take hold of Cal's hand, which was warm and rough. A working man's hand. “Maddie Kincaid.” Behind her, she heard the kids returning to the kitchen. “Nice to meet you.”

“Likewise.” Then Cal lifted his head, his whole face breaking into a grin again. “And who do we have here?”

Both kids immediately scooted across the kitchen to huddle on either side of her. “My son and daughter. Noah and Katie Grace.”

Cal squatted down in front of them, tipping back his cowboy hat as he introduced himself. Dr. Logan, Maddie noticed, seemed to be chopping up his lettuce with more enthusiasm than the job required, especially as there was no need to
chop
lettuce to begin with. A second later, she heard a squeal of delight as Cal produced a quarter from behind Noah's ear.

“Do it to me,” Katie breathed, and Cal obliged.

And the doctor chopped.

Then Maddie finished up Amy Rose's feed, surprised when Cal grabbed a receiving blanket from off the table, slung it over his shoulder, and reached for the baby to burp her. So
while he patted Amy Rose's back—well, pounded, was more like it—and Maddie discreetly pulled herself back together, she and Cal made small talk for a minute or two, like there was nothing strange at all about her and the kids being there in the doctor's kitchen, until Cal said he needed to be going, he'd just come into town to do Ethel's bidding, at which point Maddie, who didn't know how not to be hospitable, never mind that this wasn't her house, asked him why he didn't just stay for dinner, seeing as they had so much?

Amy Rose's belch was the only thing to pierce the heavy silence.

When it was obvious that nobody was going to second Maddie's offer, Cal said, “Thanks, but I really need to get back. Got a mare about to foal, so I need to stick close to home.”

Maddie looked at Dr. Logan, still expecting him to protest or say something, but he seemed to be too busy glowering.

“Another time,” she said, getting up to take Amy back from Cal and put her back in the infant seat.

“You bet,” Cal said, backing toward the door. He waved at the kids and winked at her, which she was sure Dr. Logan not only caught, but was the primary reason for his scowl deepening.

Then Dr. Logan looked at her, his brow knotted in what she could only surmise was confusion, mumbled something about being right back, and disappeared after his brother, leaving Maddie to wonder if the moon was full or what.

“O
kay, Ry—you mind telling me what's got your drawers in such a knot?”

Ryan grabbed hold of his little brother's arm and yanked him down the driveway and away from the house, far enough to be out of earshot. “You, that's what.”

Cal jerked his arm out of Ryan's grasp, then rammed his hands on his hips. “Meanin' what? All I did was bring over a damn cake—”

“You were flirting, numbskull. With a vulnerable woman who just lost her husband. Not to mention just gave birth. What
is
it with you, that you can't be around a woman for more'n five minutes without making a play for her?”

Cal stared him down for a moment, then stalked away toward his truck. “I'm not even gonna dignify that comment with a reply.”

Ryan followed. “You were moving in on her faster'n lava from a volcano, for God's sake!”

“I was being
friendly,
you idiot!” Cal yanked open his truck door, but Ryan was right there, grabbing his brother's arm again.

“What you were doing is not what I call friendly.”

“Well, then, that's where you and me have a difference of opinion, big brother. And let
go,
for the love of Pete. I'm not goin' anywhere. Although now I remember why I'm not inclined to seek out your company.”

A pang of regret sliced through Ryan as he let go of Cal's arm, but not strongly enough to sidetrack him from the issue at hand. “I know your reputation, Cal. Hell, everybody east of Tulsa knows your reputation. Just figured I'd head you off at the pass, is all.”

Anger flashed in his brother's eyes. “I don't mean anything by it, and you know that.”

“Do I?”

“Well, you should, dammit. It's just my way. Which you would know if you'd tried a little harder to get to know me, instead of listening to every shred of gossip that manages to meander through town. I'm not goin' to apologize for liking women, for seeing if I can make them smile for me. Especially one as cute and sweet as that one is, who I gather has been through a lot this past little while. I can't help but want to make her feel a little nicer about herself. That she's worth being noticed. No law against it, last time I checked. But damned if I'm gonna stand here and listen to you going on about my
reputation.
I've never in my life taken advantage of a woman, or gone out with one who I didn't respect as much as I did our own mother.” Cal's voice caught slightly on that last little bit, but he quickly recovered. “Liking women doesn't make me a womanizer, Ry.”

Ryan let out a huff of air of his own, then stuffed his hands in his back pockets. After a moment, he said, “How could you possibly know how sweet Maddie is? You didn't talk but five minutes, if that.”

“Shoot, Ry…” In the dim glow given off by the back porch light, Cal's green eyes had gone the color of a murky pond. “Every time I turned around today, somebody or other was telling me about the poor widow and her
darlin'
little kids who showed up on your doorstep in labor.” He grinned. “You want my opinion, Maddie's in far more danger from
the married womenfolk in this town than she'd ever be from me. If she sticks around, I guarantee every woman within a fifty-mile radius is gonna try her hand at fixin' her up with
somebody.
Which reminds me…” Cal hauled himself up into the driver's seat, leaving the door hanging open. “I hear Ned McAllister's her uncle or something?”

Despite himself, Ryan felt his anger begin to fade. Flirting really was just his brother's way. And even though Cal used to go through women like they were M&M's—maybe he did respect them, but let's just say there was a big turnover in the girlfriend department—Ryan guessed he hadn't really heard much dirt on his brother in the past few years. These days, Cal's business pretty much kept him out of trouble. And out of sight.

“Her husband's great-uncle, yeah,” he now said. Damn, it was cold out here. And damp. Ryan folded his arms over his chest and glanced up, frowning at the clouds, then back at his brother. “She's got this idea she's going to be able to stay with him out at his place.”

“You tell her that'd never work?”

“What do you think?”

“And judging from that just-ate-grapefruit look on your face, I'm guessing she wasn't dissuaded.”

“Well, in her position, I don't suppose I'd feel I could afford to be too picky, either. I reckon she'll change her mind soon enough, though, once she sets eyes on the place.”

“And then what?”

Ryan sighed, his breath coming out in a white puff. “Yeah, well, that's the part I haven't figured out yet.”

Cal craned his neck, looked up at the house, then back at Ryan. “No reason why she can't just stay here, is there? At least until she gets back on her feet?”

“Other than the fact that the last thing I need is a woman and her kids underfoot indefinitely? What's so blamed funny?”

“You are,” Cal said, still chuckling. He grabbed his door, slammed it shut. “You come roaring out here after me, clearly intent on defending Maddie Kincaid's honor, then turn around
and give me this crock about her and the kids ‘being underfoot.' The truth is, something about that gal's gotten to you. And you haven't got the slightest idea what to do about it, do you?”

Ryan ignored feeling that he'd just been suckerpunched and said, “And you're off your rocker.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah. For one thing, I've known the woman exactly two and a half days. For another, she's more'n ten years younger than me.
And
she just buried her husband. Besides, you know full well why I can't get involved with anybody.”

Cal didn't have anything to say to that for a moment. Then he twisted the key in the ignition, gunning the engine. “Yep. That's a nice crop of reasons you got there.”

“I don't like the way you said that.”

That got a chuckle. “You know, one of these days, you and Hank both are gonna realize I'm not your
kid
brother anymore. That maybe I know a thing or two. Especially about women,” he added with a lopsided grin.

“Which brings me back to my earlier observation.”

Cal let out a ragged sigh. “I'm not looking to start something with Maddie, okay? At least…not this week.”

With that, he backed out of the driveway fast enough to get the neighbor's dog all riled up.

 

Another week passed before Ryan got around to taking Maddie into Claremore to see Ned. Maddie wasn't all that sold on the idea of leaving Amy Rose with anybody, not even Ivy—she'd gotten the boy enrolled in kindergarten and the girl seemed to take to the church day care right off—and not even for a couple hours, but she'd finally relented. She'd fed her right before they left, though, hoping the baby would sleep through until they got back. And even though Ryan reminded her they had his cell phone, just in case, he could tell she still worried. She was just one of those mothers who had a hard time being away from her babies, even for a little while.

“You can adjust that seatbelt if you need to,” he said when they got into the truck.

“What? Oh, okay…”

Only he had to lean over her to help her when the old belt refused to cooperate. Which put him way too close to her, close enough to catch her sweet, natural scent, nothing more than shampoo and soap and freshly washed clothes. Lord above, the woman washed clothes more than anybody he'd ever seen, other than his mother. And yesterday, she'd taken it upon herself to wash his, too, when he was out on a call. There his shorts and things were, neatly folded on his bed, when he got back.

And she'd started…doing things to the house. Nothing major, and not cleaning, since he had Cherise to come in once a week to do that—not that he'd let Maddie clean, anyway, not this soon after giving birth. Just these little touches—flowers and stuff, you know?—that made the place look brighter.

Like a real home.

It irritated the life out of him. Not what she was doing: that he liked it as much as he did. Because soon Maddie would go away.

She
had
to go away.

“How long is it?” she asked as they pulled out of the driveway.

“Not far. Forty, forty-five minutes.”

She nodded, pulled her bulky sweater more tightly together.

“You cold?”

“No.” Then she smiled. “Maybe a little.”

“I can turn the heat on, if you like.”

“Oh. Well…okay.”

For crying out loud, what was the big deal with asking somebody to just turn up the heat? Ryan looked over, took in her denim jumper—a maternity one, the only skirtlike thing she owned, apparently—the old canvas slip-ons on her feet. Her stockings or panty hose or whatever they were had a small run in them. “So,” he said, because the silence was beginning to drive him buggy, “you've never met Ned, you said?”

She shook her head. Her hair did that slithery thing that
caught the light. She'd begun to put on a little weight, Ryan noticed with a start. Enough to soften her features just a bit. Make her look even younger. More vulnerable.

“I talked to him once, right after we were married. Sent him Christmas cards with pictures of the kids, too, every year. Never got one back, though.” She propped her elbow on the rest on the door, frowned down at her short nails, then looked at him. “You think I'm crazy, don't you? For thinking this could work?”

“I think you've got a lot of guts,” he said, and meant it. When her brows lifted, vanishing underneath her bangs, he added, “But I guess it's the crazy people who have the courage to attempt all the stuff the sane ones don't.”

She fiddled with her purse, lying on her lap, then laughed quietly. “That's not answering my question.”

“No, I don't suppose it is. But…” He thought on how to put this, then said, “Ned's lived on his own ever since he retired from the Army, some thirty years ago. No wife, no kids. From time to time, he'll take up with some mangy mutt, but he doesn't even have one of those right now.” He glanced over at her. “From what I know about Ned McAllister, it doesn't surprise me that he never sent you a Christmas card back. Even if you all could fit in that dump of his, he's too set in his ways to adjust to having family around, not at this point in his life.”

She met his gaze, just for a second, a funny expression on her face. Then she resumed staring out the windshield.

Stayed quiet for the rest of the trip, too, only commenting now and again on something they'd pass along the way. Unfortunately for Ryan, this allowed him more time to think than was probably good for him, especially as the only thing he seemed to be able to think about was the woman sitting beside him with the determined look in her stormy eyes.

About how much of an idiot he'd made of himself with Cal. No wonder his brother had come to the conclusion he had. All he'd had to go on was what he saw, which, thinking back, could certainly have been easily enough mistaken for something it wasn't.

Now if Ryan could just figure why his brother's doing whatever it was his brother did around women—around Maddie—had provoked such a reaction on his part, he'd be a much happier man.

And here they were in the medical center's parking lot, where, strangely enough, Ryan felt as though his fate was about to be decided. Well, not in the parking lot, but later on. When Maddie met Ned. He'd been twisting his brain up into knots these past few days, trying to come up with a solution to the Maddie Kincaid Problem, only to come up blank every time. Although he wondered about that last set of foster parents, back in Fayetteville. Whenever he tried to bring them up, Maddie got all cagey, changing the subject. But what little she had said had given him to believe they'd been close at one time. He just wondered if they had any idea the mess she was in now.

He glanced over, saw she looked a little paler than normal. Which was pretty pale. “We're here,” he said, unnecessarily.

She nodded. Took a deep breath. Closed her fingers around the door handle.

“You want me to come with you?”

“No,” she said, practically before he'd gotten the whole sentence out of his mouth. When Ryan told Ned about Maddie, the old man hadn't let on as to whether her being here pleased him or not. Hard to tell with Ned.

“You sure?”

She gave him one of those steely eyed looks of hers. “I don't need you to hold my hand,” she said, which stirred the strangest, most unexpected reaction in the pit of Ryan's stomach. So he nodded, quickly, before he started thinking too hard about that strange and unexpected reaction, then got out of the truck to help her out. Except, of course, she was already out and halfway through the parking lot, making tracks toward the entrance like nobody's business.

Ryan just stood there, one hand braced on the truck's roof, and shook his head. Then he shouted out Ned's room number after her, in case she'd forgotten, although he pretty well fig
ured he'd wasted his breath because he somehow doubted Maddie Kincaid ever forgot anything.

 

She'd had to get away, from…whatever it was that was shaking her up so much about Dr. Logan. Before he could take her by the elbow or something, lead her inside. Not that he would have, but you never know. She didn't figure it was worth taking the chance to find out.

Maddie marched up to the desk, asked how to get to Ned's room and was on her way before she could think about that, either. Dr. Logan had already told her that Ned would have to be in rehab for his physical therapy for a good four weeks, and that the old man had apparently made it his personal mission to try everybody's patience in the hospital. Lord, but her heart was pounding so loudly, her teeth were rattling. Not because she was afraid of dealing with a crotchety old man—most people, she'd discovered, just used ill temper as an excuse to cover up their fears, and once you knew that, they weren't nearly so scary anymore—but because she knew this meeting was likely to be some kind of turning point. Once in the elevator, she practiced her deep breathing, like she was supposed to have used when she gave birth but never seemed to remember until it was too late. It did seem to help, some, because although her heart was still beating pretty loudly, at least her teeth had stopped clacking together.