popped it into her mouth. “Thank you,” she mumbled, her speech garbled from the sucker.
“You’re welcome.” Jillian watched Alec with his daughter and remembered he’d said something about Shelby only living with him for the past year, since her mother’s death. She could only imagine how terrible that must have been for such a young girl.
“Why does the cold make the swelling go down?” Shelby wanted to know.
“Ah, good question.” She tried to think of a non-complicated answer. “When you hurt yourself, your body tries to fix it by sending white blood cells to the area. Which is good, but too much swelling hurts, too.”
Shelby scrunched up her forehead. “Doesn’t the body know better than to send so many white blood cells?”
Jillian had to laugh. “No, not really.” She lifted the corner of the cold pack again, keeping an eye on the clock. “See how much better it looks? The cold makes your veins close up and helps the body stop sending white blood cells to the area that hurts.”
Shelby peered at the sting site in her arm. “It doesn’t hurt very much either.”
The cold pack had probably numbed the area. Jillian glanced at Alec. “You might want to give her some Benadryl tonight, before she goes to bed. The antihistamine will help counteract any bee serum left in her system.”
“Benadryl,” Alec repeated, his brows pulled together in a frown. “I’ll have to buy some.”
Jillian opened drawers to see if there were any samples. When she found a small packet of Benadryl, she handed it over. “Here you go.”
“Thanks.” He stepped closer to take the medication and his unique musky scent surrounded her. Suddenly, the small trailer seemed even more cramped, as his broad shoulders took up more than a little space. Now that Shelby’s minor emergency was over, Jillian didn’t know what to say.
Small talk had never been easy for her. She was more comfortable with books.
“Do you think we should head home?” Alec asked.
“No!” Shelby protested. “We didn’t get to spend hardly any time in the children’s tent.”
“Children’s tent?” Jillian wasn’t sure what Shelby was talking about.
“I got the tickets to come here today from my brother Adam. He told me they have a children’s tent where the kids can do finger-painting and stuff.”
Adam? She made the connection. “Adam was here as one of the volunteers. I thought he looked familiar.”
“I missed him? Figures.” Alec glanced at Shelby. “Are you sure you want to stay?”
“Yes.” Shelby gave a vigorous nod.
Jillian removed the cold pack, and took one last look at Shelby’s arm. “The swelling has really come down. If you want to stay, it should be all right.”
“All right, then.” Alec glanced at her. “Thanks again, Jillian.” He paused, and then added, “How long are you working?”
“Another hour or so,” she said.
He nodded. “Maybe we’ll see you later.”
“Sure.” Jillian knew he was just being polite.
Shelby happily jumped down from the exam table. “Bye, Dr. Jillian.”
“Bye, Shelby. Have fun in the children’s tent.”
Alec took his daughter’s hand as they left. He was a good father. And why that had suddenly become an attractive trait in a man was beyond her. Alec obviously cherished his daughter and the feeling was mutual.
Her memories of her own father were mostly centered around doing homework. He’d always been willing to help, showing great patience when it had come to her studies. Jillian had been an only child, and her parents had been in their early forties by the time she’d been born. They had viewed education as being highly important. Most of the other kids had had younger, more active parents, but Jillian hadn’t really minded. She’d loved books and once she’d hit high school had fallen in love with science. She’d known then she was destined to become a doctor.
Her choices, sacrifices some would say, had never bothered her before. There was no reason for them to nag at her now. Her career was something she’d worked for. Having a family of her own just hadn’t been a priority. Especially once her mother had gotten sick and her attention had been focused on caring for her mother, rather than her personal life.
Now she couldn’t help but wonder what she’d missed. When Shelby had rested her head against her shoulder, she’d been struck by a flash of tenderness for the motherless girl. Never before had she been so tempted to gather a child into her arms for a big hug.
At the end of her shift, Jillian stepped from the trailer to find Alec and Shelby walking toward her. Alec’s gaze was warm as he acknowledged her with a nod.
“Are you hungry? We were thinking of having barbequed spare ribs for dinner.”
Pleased they’d thought of her, she nodded. “Sounds good.”
They wandered over to where the food vendors were lined up along the edge of the festival grounds. Eating while talking wasn’t easy, although Shelby didn’t seem to have nearly the same problem as she chatted about their activities in the children’s tent.
After they’d finished their impromptu meal, Alec insisted on walking her to her car. With Shelby right there between them, she understood when he didn’t reach for her hand.
“Goodnight, Shelby.’ She smiled at the tired little girl.
“Goodnight, Dr Jillian.” Shelby gave her a beautiful smile, before yawning and rubbing her eyes.
“And, Alec.” Jillian kept her tone light. “Thanks for dinner.”
“Goodnight, Jillian.” Alec’s gaze met hers directly, and a sizzling awareness flashed between them. The glimpse of desire in his eyes convinced her she wasn’t alone in feeling the attraction. “I may stop in to see you tomorrow.”
Really? For a moment hope flared, until he added, “To get the list.”
“Oh, yes. Of course.” He was referring to the list of staff members she’d promised him. Work-related, not pleasure. Jillian unlocked her car and opened the door. “I’m working day shift tomorrow.”
“Oh.” Was that disappointment clouding his eyes? “Then I won’t see you. I’m working second shift.”
It was tempting to promise to work a double shift, just so she could see him. As Alec and Shelby walked away, Jillian couldn’t hide a keen sense of disappointment.
She’d run into Alec today by chance. But once he had his list, her opportunities for seeing him again would dwindle to almost nothing.
CHAPTER FOUR
JILLIAN
