The Nurse's Brooding Boss (4 page)

His dark brows pulled together in a frown. “A problem?”

“Yes. I volunteer at the New Beginnings Clinic down in the low-income district. Earlier today, a very distraught young woman brought in her colicky baby to be evaluated by the doctor.”

Brock’s spine straightened, and the expression on his face became noncommittal. “Lacey and Tucker.”

She was surprised he’d guessed, but that only made it easier to speak her mind. “Yes. You need to know I’m really concerned about them. Especially Lacey.”

“Why? Because there was something wrong with Tucker? She’s not hurting him or anything is she?” Brock asked in a rush.

“No! No, it’s not that.” Although she could understand why he might jump to that conclusion. Working in the ED, they sometimes saw cases of child abuse. “Tucker has a bad case of colic, but she was making it worse by giving him different kinds of formula. I helped her switch him over to a soy-based product and gave her some anti-gas medication for him. But your brother, the baby’s father, didn’t come to the appointment with her.”

Brock’s shoulders slumped with apparent relief that abuse wasn’t the issue. “Yeah, I’m not surprised,” he muttered.

He was being far too blasé about the entire situation. She leaned forward, willing him to understand. “Listen to me. I noticed several small cuts on Lacey’s arm. She
covered them up right away, but I didn’t imagine them. She’s not coping very well with motherhood. I think she might be cutting herself, purposefully inflicting pain.”

“What?” Brock stared at her in disbelief. “Are you telling me she’s suicidal?”

Elana didn’t want to have this conversation, she really didn’t. But hadn’t she learned the hard way how ignoring a problem only made it worse? “Young adults who are known to be cutters aren’t suicidal per se, but it is a sign of being unable to cope. They cut themselves because it’s one area of their life they can actually control. And cutting themselves seems to help relieve guilt, in a bizarre way.”

“You sound like you’re familiar with this affliction,” Brock said, his gaze intense.

She swallowed hard. She knew far more than she wanted to about kids who used harmful ways to cope. Been there and done that.

And it was all Brock’s fault.

For a moment darkness threatened. She pushed the sensation away. “I know a little about it.”

“I see.” He stared at her, a flash of real regret intermixed with guilt shadowing his eyes. Could it be that the accident had affected him more than she realized?

Disturbed by the possibility, she stared down at her hands. Had Brock really suffered too? Maybe, but so what? He’d been able to walk away. She hadn’t. Besides, she needed to focus on the issue at hand.

Lacey and Tucker.

“Brock, you need to make your brother understand
how his son needs him. Joel and Lacey should take a parenting class; there are resources to help them.” She silently pleaded with him to take her advice seriously. “I honestly don’t think Lacey is stable enough, or capable enough to raise Tucker alone.”

“Yeah, well, unfortunately, that’s going to be a problem,” Brock admitted, his expression grim. “Lacey just called me less than an hour ago. She’s freaking out because apparently my brother, Joel, went AWOL. She hasn’t seen him all day, and no one seems to know where he is.”

“L
ACEY
has been home alone with Tucker all day?” Elana couldn’t control the surge of panic as she stared at Brock in horror. “We have to get over there right away.”

“Maybe you’re right.” He glanced at her, his gaze serious. “I know it’s a lot to ask, but since you’ve established a bond with Lacey, she might feel better if you came along.”

She hesitated and then steeled her resolve. Lacey needed her. “Of course I’ll come with you.”

“Thanks.”

Ten minutes later she found herself seated in the passenger seat of Brock’s SUV as he drove to Lacey’s small duplex. She twisted her hands in her lap and stole a glimpse at him. His gaze was glued to the road, his face drawn into a deep frown. She found it difficult to breathe; his presence was large and overpowering in the tight confines of the car.

There was no way to know what was going through his mind. She told herself she didn’t care, but couldn’t quite make herself believe it. He’d immediately jumped
to help Lacey, and she was reluctantly impressed with his willingness to do whatever was necessary.

The silence was deafening. For the life of her, she couldn’t think of anything to say. She barely knew him. Brock the emergency medicine physician was a complete enigma to her.

Not that she’d known Brock the reckless college student either.

Her aunt Chloe had discouraged her from blindly believing the rumors about Brock’s speeding. The normal speed limit on that stretch of highway where the accident had occurred was forty-five miles per hour. More than fast enough to have caused a fatal accident without speeding.

Elana had refused to listen. It was easier to hate Brock for her messed-up life than to hate her disabled mother. Or her dead sister.

She glanced at the dashboard, noticing he drove well within the speed limit. Of course, she would too if she’d caused a young girl to die.

Her chest tightened with a spurt of empathy. How awful to know you’d taken a life. She couldn’t imagine how difficult that must have been.

Wait a minute. Why was she feeling sorry for Brock? His guilt, one way or the other, wasn’t her concern.

Turning her attention to Lacey and Tucker, she glanced at the clock. Almost midnight. Did Brock know where to find his brother, Joel? She hoped so. She wouldn’t mind staying with Lacey while he went searching for him.

Brock pulled into the driveway of a rather dilapidated building a few minutes later. The lights were on in the upper-level apartment, and Brock softly rapped on the door, as if trying not to wake the occupants of the lower apartment.

Lacey answered the door a few minutes later. There was no sign of Tucker, which caused a tingle of alarm to skate down Elana’s back.

For Brock too, apparently, because the first thing he said was, “Where’s the baby?”

“Sleeping.” Lacey seemed surprised yet happy to see Elana. “Come in.”

They trooped up the stairs to the apartment. The interior was a bit of a mess, clothes scattered around and dirty dishes piled on top of the scarred coffee table. Elana’s fingers itched to clean up. Instead she turned her back on the mess, facing Tucker’s young mother.

“Hi, Lacey. Do you remember me from the clinic? My name is Elana, and I work with Brock in the emergency department.”

Lacey slowly nodded. “I remember. The gas medicine seems to be helping. Tucker napped for a full two hours this afternoon.”

Elana smiled. “I’m so glad. I’m sure the new formula will help too.”

“Do you mind if we look in on the baby?” Brock asked, still wearing his scowling frown. “We promise not to wake him.”

Lacey lifted a thin shoulder in a half shrug. “I guess. He’s probably going to wake up in another hour
or so anyway to eat. He’s been getting up to eat every four hours.”

The resigned expression on the young woman’s face bothered Elana. Was Lacey already imaging what it was going to be like to raise Tucker all by herself? She was glad the woman didn’t seem too desperate, yet she also knew how easy it was to hide your true feelings.

She darted a glance at Brock, and he nodded at her unspoken question, gesturing towards the bedroom door that Lacey had left partially open. She tiptoed into Tucker’s room, gazing down at the sleeping baby nestled in the crib, lying on his back, with a rolled-up blanket tucked behind him.

Brock and Lacey spoke in low tones, no doubt discussing where Joel might be. She longed to pick up the baby, but knew better than to disturb the sleeping infant. If Lacey was right, he’d be awake soon enough anyway.

She left the room quietly, closing the door soundlessly behind her. “He seems to be sleeping pretty well,” she announced, coming back into the living room.

Brock was on his cell phone, calling one of Joel’s friends. After several fruitless calls, he snapped his phone shut in defeat.

“I’m sorry, Lacey. There’s nothing more I can do to find him tonight,” he said in a resigned tone.

Lacey looked as if she wanted to cry. “I know.”

Brock let out a heavy sigh. “Go and pack a bag full of whatever you and the baby will need for a few days,” he said. “You and Tucker will be better off staying at my place until we find my brother.”

Brock sat on Lacey’s sofa, broodingly watching as Lacey began packing their things together. He didn’t mind helping out, but he couldn’t quell a sense of panic. Moving Lacey and Tucker to his place was a drastic step. What if they didn’t find Joel right away? How long would this arrangement have to last? He didn’t have any idea, but he also didn’t have any other options. He couldn’t leave Lacey to cope on her own.

Dammit, where in the hell was Joel?

Brock had to swallow his seething frustration. He couldn’t help being annoyed with his brother. He’d come home to give Joel a helping hand, but Joel needed to do his part too. Disappearing was not holding up his end of the deal.

He scrubbed a hand over his jaw. Had their dad been right to deny Joel any financial help after the baby was born? Maybe Brock’s offer to help was only enabling Joel to shirk his responsibilities.

No. Joel needed support. And Elana’s concerns were well founded. It was no secret to him that Lacey was having trouble coping, but he hadn’t realized the full extent of her problems. Deliberately cutting herself in some twisted need to be in control was scary.

And how had Elana known those sorts of details? Just from working as a nurse in the emergency department or because of her own troubled teenage years?

It was difficult to think about how Elana had struggled back then, losing her sister and then her mother. She’d certainly been a casualty in the entire mess. He’d hoped that Elana was ready to talk, had foolishly looked
forward to their meeting after work, only to be taken aback by her concerns regarding Lacey and Tucker.

How long had she been working at the New Beginnings Clinic? He couldn’t help admiring her willingness to help those in need. Patients like Lacey would certainly flourish under her care. Elana was a beautiful woman, inside and out. He was amazed at how accomplished she was. Selfishly, he wished he could get to know Elana better.

But that wasn’t likely.

Tucker woke up, crying softly at first but then swinging into a full-blown wail. Lacey became flustered, dropping her bag and rushing over to him as if something awful would happen if the baby cried too long.

“Here, why don’t you let me take care of him for you,” Elana said, following Lacey into the bedroom. “That way you can keep gathering all your stuff together.”

Brock wondered if he should offer to help too, but when Elana changed the baby’s diapers and competently whisked him off to the kitchen to make a bottle, he decided she had things under control.

The way Elana cooed at his nephew, pressing kisses to the top of his head even as he cried, captured his gaze. When she finally settled down in the rocking chair, quieting the baby with the bottle, a bolt of desire shot straight to his groin.

What in the world was wrong with him? He’d no business thinking of Elana in a personal way, as a woman he might be interested in. Yet, suddenly, he couldn’t tear his eyes from the picture she made gazing
serenely at Tucker. Since when did he get aroused watching a beautiful woman rock a baby?

Since never. He must be overly tired. Talk about being self-destructive. Elana hated him. Being attracted to her was crazy. She deserved a family of her own.

But he didn’t. There was no way he’d ever consider having children. Ever.

He tore his gaze away and jumped to his feet. He needed to do something. Anything. When he saw Lacey lugging the swing towards the door, he bit back a protest and crossed over to take it from her.

“I’ll carry that down to the car for you,” he said quickly. “Does it fold up somehow?”

“I think so. Joel put it together for me,” Lacey said.

Wrestling with the baby swing gave him something to do. But, even so, he found his gaze resting on Elana and Tucker more than once.

When he saw the amount of stuff Lacey was packing, including the swing, a portable cradle, the infant car seat, the box of diapers and their suitcases full of clothes, a surge of panic grabbed him by the throat. He’d only asked her to come for a few days, not to move in permanently.

He was going to kill Joel when he found him. No, scratch that plan; he couldn’t kill his brother because then Lacey and Tucker would really be his responsibility. But, dammit, Joel needed to stop running away from his mistakes.

He finally figured out how to get the baby swing folded up to a point it would fit in the trunk of his car.
He hauled it downstairs and then returned for the portable crib. After making several more trips down to the car, he had most of the stuff packed up.

“Is there anything else?” he asked Lacey, watching from the corner of his eye as Elana finished feeding Tucker, holding him on her shoulder and rubbing his back, urging him to burp. Did babies burp on command? He didn’t think so. But when Tucker let out a loud belch, he couldn’t help but grin.

“I think so,” Lacey said hesitantly, wringing her hands together nervously. “Babies sure need a lot of stuff, don’t they?”

“You’re not kidding,” Brock muttered. He forced himself to sound positive. “It’s probably good enough for now. We can always come back if you did forget something. And I’m sure Joel will be back soon.”

“Yeah. You’re probably right,” Lacey said in a voice that lacked conviction.

“Do you have the anti-gas medicine?” Elana asked, crossing over to them, still holding the baby.

Lacey’s face crumpled. “No. I forgot. And I don’t think I packed the formula either.”

“Here, Brock.” She thrust the baby at him. “Come on, Lacey, let’s make one last sweep of the house.”

He wanted to protest, but the women disappeared into the kitchen faster than he could blink. Holding his breath, he stared down at his nephew. It wasn’t as if he’d never held a baby; infants occasionally ended up in the ED, although not for long since they didn’t waste any
time transferring them over to Children’s Memorial Hospital, located right across the street.

After the accident, he’d refused to contemplate having a family of his own. Children. After stealing Felicity’s life, he knew he didn’t deserve a family.

Yet he couldn’t ignore his nephew. Tucker looked up at him with a solemn, steady gaze. Brock smiled nervously. “Hey, there. You’re being a good baby, aren’t you? No crying now, and let’s try to keep it that way, hmm?”

Tucker blinked and then waved his hands, as if he wanted to say something but obviously couldn’t. When Brock put his hand out, the baby grabbed his finger with a surprisingly tight grip.

And when Tucker smiled, the icy reserve around Brock’s heart melted into a gooey pile of slush. For the first time, he realized how much he’d given up that day he’d crashed into Felicity’s car.

Elana’s breath hitched in her chest when she came out of the kitchen and caught sight of the enthralled expression on Brock’s face as he gazed down at his nephew.

She tightened her grip on the cans of formula she carried so they didn’t slip and crash to the floor.

What was she thinking to react like this? Maybe she could respect Brock’s talent as a physician, but she couldn’t be attracted to him. Obviously being with him like this outside the hospital was dangerous. It was almost too easy to forget how he’d recklessly killed her sister.

Felicity. She’d idolized her older sister, especially since Felicity had often looked out for Elana when their
mother wasn’t quite capable. Felicity had been so vibrant, so full of life. Everyone had loved her, Elana most of all.

She drew a ragged breath.
Don’t go back. You’re a different person now
.

Distance. She needed distance. She needed to get as far away from Brock as possible.

“Do you and Lacey have everything now?” Brock asked.

She put down the cans of formula and curled her fingers into tight fists, the prick of her fingernails helping to sharpen her focus.

“Elana?” he asked again.

“Yes,” she croaked. Lacey crossed over to put Tucker into his car seat, giving him his medicine once he was settled in.

“Let’s go, then.” Brock reached down to pick up the car seat by the handle, holding the door for them so they could head out to the car.

“Put your seat belt on,” he said to Lacey after she’d gotten Tucker’s car seat fastened.

Elana caught Lacey rolling her eyes, but the young woman didn’t protest as she complied with his wishes. Elana had already buckled herself in.

So Brock was fanatical about seat belts. That made sense; working in trauma, you learned the patients who weren’t secured in their seat belts, nine times out of ten, suffered more severe injuries than those who complied with the law.

Like Felicity. Chloe had pointed out several times
that her sister might have survived the crash if she had been wearing her seat belt. Her neck had been broken when she’d been ejected from the car.

Brock’s fault. It was all Brock’s fault.

Wasn’t it?

Elana huddled in her seat, her head spinning. She wanted to tell Brock to drop her off first, so she could get away from him, but she should really go to make sure Lacey was settled in before leaving.