The Christmas Bouquet (7 page)

Noah flipped over his piece of paper. “Then let’s try this a different way. We’ll come up with relevant questions and each of us will write down our answers. Then we’ll compare notes.”

“What sort of questions?”

“Let’s start with where we see ourselves a year from now,” he suggested.

Caitlyn nodded. That was easy enough. She’d be right here, working at the hospital and raising her baby. Noah would be...where? How did he fit into the picture? He wanted to be married, but she knew with absolutely certainty he didn’t want to be in Baltimore, no matter what he’d said earlier.

She told herself not to get bogged down in trying to figure out his answers. The whole purpose of this was to focus on her own replies.

“Okay, what next?” she asked after writing down her answer.

“Where do we see ourselves in five years?” he suggested.

That was easy, too. She’d be working in that village in Africa where she’d found such fulfillment. She glanced over at the latest photo she’d received of half a dozen smiling faces. Those children were healthier because she’d been there, even for such a short time. No way, though, would returning to that village mesh with anything Noah might write down, she thought wearily. She crumpled up the paper and tossed it in the direction of the trash can.

“This isn’t going to work,” she said.

“You haven’t given it much of a chance.”

“We want different things. Unless you’ve undergone some major transformation, that is.” She looked him in the eye. “You haven’t, have you?”

He held her gaze. “Have you?”

She shook her head. “No. There’s no middle ground here, Noah.”

“There isn’t if you won’t even try to find it,” he said, clearly frustrated. “What will work for you, Cait? Me saying I’ll come with you to Africa? Me saying I’ll care for our child while you go off to save the world? If those are the only solutions you see working, write them down.”

She frowned at his tone. “You’re starting to sound like my grandfather, as if my goal is horrible and selfish.” She gestured toward that snapshot. “Look at them, Noah. Those kids matter.”

He sighed at the heartfelt comment. “I didn’t mean to make it sound as if they didn’t. It’s a noble dream, Cait, and if we didn’t have a baby to consider, I’d be backing you a thousand percent.”

Tears, always a threat these days, filled her eyes. “I know you’re right. I have to accept reality, but I hate it, Noah. I really hate it.”

She saw the color wash out of his face and knew he’d misinterpreted her meaning. “Not the baby. I could never hate our child. It’s the circumstances, the timing. I never expected to be in a situation like this, having to make a seemingly impossible choice.”

“Cait, if marrying me and making a home for our family isn’t what you want, if you can’t imagine ever wanting that, just say so. I’ll take custody of the baby and you can follow your dream. I love you enough to let you go.”

She found herself actually considering what he was offering. It was yet more proof of the kind of man he was, and she loved him even more because of it, but the thought of walking away from him, from her baby, left her feeling hollow inside. That wasn’t an answer she could live with, either.

“I don’t want to give up on us,” she admitted tearfully. “I just don’t know what’s right anymore.”

Noah reached across the table and enveloped her hand in his. The heat and strength were a surprising comfort.

“Then we’ll give it more time,” he told her quietly. “The last thing I want is to push you into making a decision you’ll regret. There must be some way we can all win—you, me and the baby.”

“I hope so,” she said fervently. “That’s what I want, too.” She held his gaze. “You do know that none of this indecision is because I don’t love you, right? You’re the best man I’ve ever known outside of the O’Briens. They set the bar high and you’ve exceeded it. Please don’t ever doubt that.”

He smiled. “Okay, then. One day at a time, and no pressure from me.”

Cait laughed at that. “You’re not the one I’m worried about. I’ve had a few more messages from Grandpa Mick just since he told me the very same thing. Trace’s silence is almost as hard to take, because now I know he’s only biting his tongue because my mom told him to and it didn’t stop him from coming to see you. Just about the only person in my family who hasn’t been in my face is my sister, and that’s only because no one has filled her in yet.”

Noah regarded her with surprise. “Carrie doesn’t know yet?”

“I haven’t spoken to her. Mom says she’s having problems with a temperamental boss. Personally, I think Carrie’s addicted to drama. Mom thinks I’m imagining things, but I’m pretty sure Carrie’s crazy about the designer, not the job. He is one serious hunk. The fact that he’s difficult would only be more appealing to Carrie. If I were wrong, she’d have quit by now.”

“I’m surprised you haven’t called to see what’s going on,” Noah said.

“Carrie only wants to talk to me when things are going her way. She’s convinced I think her world is frivolous.” Caitlyn shrugged. “And I do, but it’s important to her. I respect her for finding something she’s passionate about and sticking with it. That’s what all of us need in our lives.”

“I agree,” Noah said pointedly. “That’s why I will never dismiss your goal, no matter how much it might stand in the way of our future.”

Caitlyn regarded him seriously. “I want the same for you, you know. Baltimore or even Annapolis were never in your game plan, Noah. You shouldn’t have to lose your dream, any more than I should.”

“I won’t lose anything important, Cait, not unless I lose you.”

The heartfelt simplicity touched her in a way nothing else had. Regret washed over her because no matter how badly she wanted to say the same thing held true for her, she couldn’t get those words out. Not yet. Not without fighting hard to hold on to the future she’d envisioned for herself.

* * *

The too-thin not-quite-three-year-old boy who’d been admitted to the pediatrics wing the night before was listless and pale. He flinched when Caitlyn put the stethoscope on his chest. Reacting to the fear, she immediately withdrew it and placed it on her own chest.

“Yikes, that’s cold!” she said with an exaggerated shiver. She rubbed it dramatically between her hands to warm it. “Let’s see if that’s any better.” She put it against her own chest again. “Definitely better. Want to see for yourself, Mason?”

He held her gaze with his big blue eyes and finally nodded.

This time she approached more slowly before gently placing the stethoscope against his skin. “Better?” she asked.

He didn’t answer, but the fear had left his eyes. She made quick work of taking his vitals, then started to leave.

“No!” he protested, tears spilling down his cheeks. “No go.”

Caitlyn walk back to the crib, where he was standing now on legs too wobbly for a child his age. She touched his pale cheek. “How about I stay for a couple more minutes and read you a story?”

She didn’t really have time for that, but she simply couldn’t ignore his plea. It must be terrifying to be all alone in a strange place and not feeling well.

His expression immediately brightened at her offer. “Story,” he echoed excitedly, showing more animation than at any time since he’d arrived the day before.

“Okay, then,” she said, smiling at him. “You put your head down for a little nap and I’ll read.”

Hopefully he’d drift off before Dr. Davis wondered why she hadn’t completed her rounds. She chose a book from the pile nearby. Instead of lying down, though, he regarded her wistfully as she read. She’d been around enough children his age to recognize that he wanted to be held. When she stood, he immediately held out his arms to her. She picked him up and settled into a nearby rocker.

“This is not part of my job description,” she said as he snuggled against her trustingly. The weight against her chest, the little-boy scent, the tiny finger pointing at the pictures in the book, filled her with surprising contentment.

So,
she thought,
this is what it will be like,
more aware now of the simple act of reading to a child than she’d ever been with any of the O’Brien babies. Was it possible for even a couple of months of pregnancy to sharpen her maternal instincts?

“Caitlyn!”

A disapproving voice cut through her reverie and she looked up to find Dr. Davis regarding her with dismay.

“He was scared,” she said in her own defense. “He just needed a little attention.”

The pediatrician’s expression softened. “I know your instincts are good, Caitlyn, but we don’t have a diagnosis yet of what’s going on with him. Until we’ve ruled out an infection of some kind, you should be taking precautions, especially under the circumstances.”

There was little question about the circumstances to which she was referring: the pregnancy.

“He doesn’t have a fever,” she protested. “I just checked his vitals.” She sighed. “But you’re right. I shouldn’t be taking chances.” She’d just seen a scared little boy and wanted to make it right.

Dr. Davis removed Mason from her lap, gave him a tickle that had him giggling as she set him back in his crib. “Outside, Caitlyn,” she instructed, even as she smoothed the hair back from the boy’s forehead and gave him a little pat before following.

“I think we need to talk about this,” she told Caitlyn. “I haven’t asked because your personal life really isn’t my business, but you are pregnant, aren’t you?”

Caitlyn nodded. “I don’t want that to affect my work, though.”

“No reason it has to,” Dr. Davis agreed. “As long as you’re sensible. If we’re dealing with a patient who might be contagious, you either take the appropriate precautions or we assign that patient to another student.”

“I don’t want the pregnancy to turn into a big deal,” she said. “I need to pull my weight.”

“Don’t worry, you will,” the doctor assured her. “Now, tell me what you found when you were with Mason just now.”

Caitlyn described his listlessness and his fearful reaction when she went to touch him. “He might have something that makes him especially sensitive to touch, but I don’t think that’s it.”

“What, then?” the pediatrician prodded.

“He was afraid of me at first,” she said. “He moved away when I first reached out to him. Who brought him in? Why weren’t either of his parents with him?”

“They’ve been ordered to stay away,” Dr. Davis told her. “Until we rule out abuse.”

Caitlyn frowned. “But there aren’t any bruises.”

“Not all abuse leaves physical scars,” the doctor reminded her.

“Shaken-baby syndrome,” Caitlyn said at once.

“That’s definitely a possibility. You’re new to this service, but this isn’t the first time he’s turned up in the emergency room with signs of a mild concussion. A CT scan will tell us more.”

“Have you done one before?”

“Twice, as a matter of fact. They were inconclusive, which is why Mason is still at home, rather than in foster care. I dread the day, though, that he comes back here and it’s too late to help him. My instincts are telling me I’m right about this.” Worry darkened her eyes. “I have to find some way to protect that child.”

Her heartfelt reaction demonstrated a level of caring that Caitlyn hadn’t seen in her before. Dr. Davis was always the consummate professional, kind but a little distant. Caitlyn liked seeing this side of her.

“So you were never really worried about an infection,” she concluded.

“I always worry about everything until I’ve ruled it out,” Dr. Davis told her. “Let that be a lesson to you. Being a good diagnostician is a wonderful attribute. Jumping to conclusions isn’t.”

Caitlyn got the message.

As they walked down the hall, Dr. Davis said casually, “Did you know that I spent five years working in Africa before I came back to the States to practice?”

Caitlyn regarded her with surprise. “I had no idea. Did you love it?”

“It was the most rewarding five years of my career, but the most frustrating, too.”

“Why?”

“Because I realized that no matter how idealistic I might be, I simply couldn’t save the world. I could barely make a dent in all that needed to be done.”

“So you gave up?”

“Hardly. I came back here where I could fight to get research funded and needed supplies to other doctors who were as well-equipped as I was to do the actual healing. I simply redirected my need to help to something that could benefit even more patients in more villages. I still go back for a few weeks every couple of years. It renews my commitment to making sure the doctors there have everything they need to do the job the best they can.”

Caitlyn regarded her suspiciously. “Have you been talking to Noah about this?”

“No. Why?”

Since she didn’t want to explain how far apart she and Noah were on planning their future, she shrugged off the question. “I just wondered. Could we talk some more sometime about your work over there and what you’re doing now? I’m surprised I haven’t heard more about it around here.”

“I like to keep the two things separate,” Dr. Davis explained. “I never want anyone here to think I’m not fully committed to what we’re doing. I do the other work because it matters to me, not to win any accolades.”

“Then I won’t mention it,” Caitlyn assured her, respecting her all the more for her attitude. “But I would like to know more.”

Dr. Davis nodded. “We’ll have lunch one day and I’ll fill you in. Now, let’s get busy.” She beckoned for Caitlyn to follow as she walked briskly down the hall, reading charts as she went, asking for Caitlyn’s perceptions of the patients they had yet to see this morning.

From then on, Caitlyn didn’t have time to think about the future. The sick and injured children right in front of her were the only ones who mattered.

7

N
oah had been in the pediatrics unit checking on one of the other patients when he’d spotted Cait with little Mason Waycross. The sight of her cuddling the boy in her arms while reading him a story had made his breath catch. She was such a natural with children. An image of her holding their child formed in his head and wouldn’t go away.

He had to find some way to ensure that happened, he thought as he left the unit and went back to his own rounds.

The next time he’d caught a glimpse of Cait, it was more than forty-eight hours later and she’d been deep in conversation with Dr. Davis in the cafeteria. Since she’d never given him any indication that she was close to the pediatrician, he couldn’t help wondering what that was about, but he didn’t interrupt them. He and Cait had an unspoken rule about keeping their distance at work, except for shared meals, coffee or professional conversations. The past couple of days, there hadn’t been time in their schedules for any of that. Even their phone calls had been hurried.

All of their discretion was probably wasted. Their relationship wasn’t much of a secret, he acknowledged dryly. Two weeks after they’d started seeing each other, his basketball buddies had been taunting him about it. Jill Marshall had put two and two together even more rapidly. Gossip spread as quickly in a hospital as it possibly could in Chesapeake Shores or any other small town.

That was just one of the reasons he’d hoped for a quick resolution to their current situation before word leaked out about the pregnancy. He was finally coming to accept, though, that there wouldn’t be one. They were just going to have to deal with the speculation in the meantime.

When his cell phone rang with an unfamiliar number on the screen, he answered to hear Mick O’Brien’s booming voice.

“When can you get down to Chesapeake Shores?” he asked.

“My schedule’s pretty jammed up,” Noah told him.

“Well,
un
jam it,” Mick ordered. “There are some people I want you to meet.”

“Who?” Noah asked, immediately on high alert.

“The mayor, a few others.”

“Mick, what have you been up to?”

“Just laying a little groundwork,” he insisted. “I think you’ll be pleased.”

“I thought you were going to stay out of this.”

“I’ve had a couple of conversations,” Mick protested. “No big deal. You don’t like what they have to say, you’re free to say no.”

“And how do I explain to Caitlyn that I’m going to Chesapeake Shores without her?”

“Bring her along,” Mick said without hesitation. “She might as well know what’s going on. Keeping it a secret doesn’t make a lot of sense since it’ll affect her life, too.”

“Mick, this is a bad idea. It’s premature, for one thing.”

“You finish your residency at the end of June. It’s already the middle of May. What was your timetable, to wait till July 1 and then wing it?”

“I was hoping to let Cait come around to my way of thinking on her own. My taking a step like this is going to back her into a corner.”

“If you ask me, the girl needs a push,” Mick grumbled.

“She’s a woman, not a girl, and you of all people should know how she’ll react to being pushed. The same way you would. She’ll push back.”

Mick heaved a sigh. “More than likely,” he conceded. “Okay, I’ll tell them you’re swamped at work. That kind of dedication will impress them, but don’t put this off too long, Noah. We need to get the ball rolling. There’s a house on the market that would be just right for your home. With a few modifications, you could set up your practice there, too. I can have a crew ready to go, as soon as you give me the go-ahead.”

Noah began to see what Cait meant when she said her grandfather liked to take charge. “Now you really are getting ahead of things, Mick. I appreciate your wanting to help. I really do, but you have to give me a little credit for understanding Cait and you have to let me go at this at the pace that I think best.”

“I’ve known her a lot longer than you have,” Mick reminded him. “Sometimes you have to take a firm stand.”

Noah laughed at that. He could imagine that working when Cait was in preschool, but certainly not now that she was grown. “I wouldn’t even dare,” he said. “Not if I expect this to turn out the way I hope it will.”

Mick sighed. “I knew my granddaughter was stubborn. I didn’t expect you to be, too.”

“Can you imagine her with a man who isn’t?” Noah asked. “She’d run roughshod over him. And I do have the added benefit of being patient, especially when something’s worth waiting for.”

“Not familiar with the concept,” Mick said. “We’ll talk again soon.”

“I’m sure of it,” Noah responded wryly.

He shook his head as he hung up. No one in his family had ever been a meddler, so this was a whole new experience. It remained to be seen whether the O’Brien gene for it was going to be a blessing or a curse.

* * *

Caitlyn listened in amazement as Naomi Davis described what her foundation had accomplished to see that doctors working in villages in third-world countries had the medical supplies they needed.

“We’re barely scratching the surface, though,” Dr. Davis lamented. “Ask any of the organizations dedicated to helping and they’ll tell you that there will never be enough resources.”

“That’s why I want to go back,” Caitlyn said. “Every pair of hands matters.”

“So does having adequate medicine and supplies,” the pediatrician reminded her. “So does well-funded research.”

“I know that,” Caitlyn said. “I’m certainly not diminishing the importance of what you’re doing. Frankly, I’m amazed at how much you’ve accomplished.”

“Did you know that your grandfather is a major donor?”

Caitlyn regarded her with shock. “He is?”

“He made his first donation after you volunteered. He called me, said he understood I had a foundation doing work in that part of the world, and he wanted to know how he could help.”

“I had no idea,” Caitlyn said. “He’s never said a word about it.” She was well aware of his work with Habitat for Humanity and had known how fervently he believed in giving back out of gratitude for all the blessings in his life, but that he’d chosen this particular project astounded her.

“When I asked him how he’d found out about us, he said he’d done some homework after his granddaughter had volunteered on a medical mission,” Dr. Davis revealed. “He’d found that our foundation put the bulk of every dollar received into actual help. Very little goes to administrative costs. In fact, we operate on a shoestring, mostly with volunteers and a paid staff of two.” She smiled. “I’m not one of those two, by the way.”

Caitlyn wasn’t really surprised by that. She’d come to realize the level of commitment Dr. Davis had made to this cause. She wouldn’t be using it for either recognition or personal gain.

“May I share something with you?” the pediatrician asked. “An idea I’ve had? Perhaps you can help.”

“Of course,” Caitlyn said eagerly.

The doctor’s eyes sparkled with excitement. “Your grandfather’s not the only one who’s done his homework,” she confided. “I know a little bit about his background as an architect. I know he and his brothers created Chesapeake Shores from his vision, and that he’s built other communities around the country from scratch, as well.”

“He’s retired now, though,” Caitlyn told her.

“Except for supervising projects for Habitat for Humanity in this area,” Dr. Davis said, proving that her research on Mick O’Brien had, indeed, been extensive.

“True,” she replied.

“How do you think he’d feel about tackling a new challenge?”

“What sort of challenge?”

“Building medical facilities in some of these villages,” she explained.

Caitlyn’s pulse picked up. What an incredible idea! She knew it would appeal to her grandfather on many different levels. She also knew, though, that her grandmother might hate the thought of him being gone for months at a time to oversee construction.

“I don’t know,” she said, unable to keep a hint of regret from her voice.

“You don’t think he’d be willing to consider it?” the pediatrician asked, her disappointment plain.

“Oh, I think he’d love the challenge of it,” Caitlyn admitted. “It’s just that he made a commitment to my grandmother that he’d limit his travel. How can I ask him to break his word to her? That is what you’re suggesting, isn’t it? That I be the one to persuade him to do this?”

“It did occur to me that you might be a more effective advocate for the idea than I would, but if you’re reluctant, I can speak to him myself. I’ve put together a proposal for him to consider. I even have some funding set aside. It’s far from enough, but I’d hoped he would have some thoughts about where we could go for contributions of building materials. I think we’d have all the labor we could ask for, albeit mostly unskilled. That’s why we’d need someone with experience not only at construction, but at working with volunteers to oversee it all.”

“He certainly has the contacts and experience to do all of that,” Caitlyn agreed. She drew in a deep breath. “Let me talk to him. I’d like very much for him to take this on, but I need to lay the groundwork.”

She thought of Grandma Megan’s likely reaction and winced. Laying the groundwork wasn’t going to be easy. In fact, it could cause a rift between her grandparents just when things between them were better than ever.

Still, if this was something she could do for the cause in which she believed with all her heart, she had to take the chance.

“Give me a little time,” she told Dr. Davis. “I’ll get back to you as soon as I’ve had a chance to talk to him.”

“Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me yet,” Caitlyn said, then smiled ruefully. “You might actually be the one doing me a favor.”

“How so?”

She thought of how this request just might redirect all of the family’s attention to a new topic and away from her pregnancy. “Don’t ask me to explain,” she said. “Just know that I’m grateful on more levels than you can possibly imagine.”

* * *

“I was thinking I might run down to Chesapeake Shores on Saturday,” Caitlyn told Noah over a quick coffee break just a few hours after he’d seen her with Dr. Davis in the cafeteria for the second time in a few days.

“I thought you were intent on staying as far away from your family as possible,” he said, surprised by her announcement.

“There’s something I need to discuss with my grandmother,” she admitted, then added, “With Grandpa Mick, too.”

“Want to fill me in?”

“It’s an idea that Dr. Davis had,” she told him. “Did you know about her foundation?”

He nodded. “I went to a fund-raising event a while back.”

Cait frowned. “You never mentioned that.”

“It was a few months before we met.”

“Still, you know I’m interested in medicine in that part of the world. Why wouldn’t you tell me she’s actively involved in that cause?”

“To be honest, I forgot about it,” he said. “She doesn’t make a big deal about the foundation. In fact, I think she was a little embarrassed that one of her donors insisted on throwing this big dinner and invited all the doctors from the hospital. She kept telling the residents they didn’t need to feel obligated to attend or to make a donation. Of course, we all went, out of respect for her, but also because it was such a good cause.”

Cait’s expression was still disgruntled. “Were you afraid I’d jump on the bandwagon or something? Is that why you never mentioned it?”

“Of course not,” he said, though he wasn’t able to keep a defensive note out of his voice. Had he remained silent because he’d feared that Cait would find an ally in Dr. Davis, someone who would only fuel the dream that could take her away from him? Was he that insecure or selfish? He didn’t like thinking he might be.

In an attempt to divert her attention, he asked, “How does your grandfather fit in?”

He listened in amazement as she explained the pediatrician’s idea for having Mick design and oversee construction of basic medical facilities. “And you’re going to take that suggestion to him?”

She nodded. “First, though, I need to speak to my grandmother. When his work was taking him away all the time, it destroyed their marriage. This would require travel, I’m sure.”

“And she might object,” Noah guessed.

“I wouldn’t be surprised if she hated the idea,” Cait admitted.

“Then what?”

“Then I’ll have my work cut out for me trying to win her over,” she said.

“Maybe you should leave it to him to persuade her,” Noah suggested, then added, “If he’s actually interested in pursuing the idea in the first place.”

“He’s going to be interested,” she said with certainty.

“But do you really want to be caught in the middle? I thought you were sick of everyone being in your business. Now you want to get involved in a decision that should be between the two of them.”

“But somebody needs to present the idea to him,” she argued. “Isn’t it better if it’s me? At least I’ll be sensitive to the possible fallout.”

“Will you really?” Noah asked skeptically. “Or will you be pushing to get the answer you want because you’re personally invested in this cause?”

He could see that Cait knew he was right. She just wasn’t quite ready to admit it yet. There was no mistaking that she was warring with herself, so he sat by silently, sipping his now-cold coffee.

Eventually she frowned at him. “You know I hate it when you’re right,” she grumbled.

He laughed. “I know, and it happens on such a regular basis, it must really be a trial for you.”

“Not amusing,” she commented. “So, what do you suggest? That I leave it to Dr. Davis?”

Since a trip to Chesapeake Shores fit in nicely with his own plans, he shook his head. “No. I think we can drive down for the day. You can fill your grandfather in, give him whatever proposal Dr. Davis has prepared, then leave it to him from then on.”

“You want to go, too?”

“I have the day off. Why not?” he said with an innocent shrug. “It’ll be good for everyone to see that I’m still in the game.”

“Is that what our situation is to you, a game?”

He backed off at once. “Sorry. A poor choice of words. I meant to say that they’ll see that my commitment to you is as solid as ever.”