so cool!”
She met his mother’s gaze and shrugged slightly. “You’ll want to take him to his pediatrician in a week, and they can remove the stitches. In the meantime, if he starts to run a fever or the wound looks infected, bring him back in.”
“Thank you,” the woman said. She was clearly exhausted, and no wonder. She’d come home from work and had started to cook dinner, only to be interrupted by the crash of the glass coffee table breaking into a million pieces. Apparently little Johnny had decided to practice his karate moves while waiting, a decision that was all the more mysterious seeing as how the boy hadn’t taken a single karate lesson in his life.
“No more kung fu movies for you,” his mother said as the pair shuffled out of the exam bay.
“But, Mom,” the boy protested, their voices growing softer as they walked away.
Darcy shook her head and silently wished them well. The injury itself hadn’t been too bad, but given the boy’s enthusiasm and appetite for adventure, it probably wouldn’t be his last scrape.
She pulled the curtain back and stepped out into the main bay of the emergency room. The facility was shaped like a giant U, with the exam rooms set up on the periphery to orbit a large central workstation where the nurses and doctors could order tests, access lab results or maybe even drink a cup of coffee when things were slow.
Like now.
One of the nurses gave her a friendly smile when she sat down. “I take it Johnny is all fixed up?”
Darcy nodded. “He’ll be back in action in no time, which I’m sure will drive his mother nuts.”
The woman laughed. “He is a handful.”
“Is it just the two of them?” She didn’t remember seeing a father’s name listed on the chart, but then again, she hadn’t really been focused on it.
“Yeah. Her husband took a job out in Odessa when the oil boom got started a couple of years ago. Called her up a few months later and said he wasn’t coming back. As far as I know, she hasn’t seen or heard from him since.”
“That’s terrible,” Darcy replied, feeling even more sorry for the beleaguered woman. No wonder she’d looked so tired! “Is there anything we can do to help her? Maybe some kind of babysitting program, or something like that?”
The nurse eyed her curiously. “She’s on a wait list for an after-school care center. But I have no idea how long it’ll take before Johnny’s name comes up.”
“Maybe I can call them and get it bumped up a little,” Darcy mused.
“Maybe you could,” the nurse agreed. “But I didn’t think you were sticking around long enough for things like that.”
Darcy felt her face heat at the observation. It was true, she was only filling in at the Granite Gulch Regional Medical Center for a few weeks as a favor to her father. He was the chief of staff at the hospital, and when he’d found out her position in New York didn’t start until May, he’d suggested she moonlight in Granite Gulch for the time being.
“To keep your skills sharp,” he’d said, his tone suggesting she was in real danger of forgetting everything she’d ever learned if she took a few weeks of vacation.
His implied criticism of her skills had stung, but she’d shrugged off his remarks. It wasn’t as if she had a warm, loving relationship with her parents. Growing up, her doctor father had been absent more often than not, and her socialite mother was always more interested in playing the part of the wealthy doctor’s wife, fluttering from one charity obligation to another with little regard to her daughter at home. As a consequence, family conversations were always rather formal, stilted affairs.
Especially after Darcy had started dating Ridge Colton. They’d met in high school, and she’d been immediately drawn to his quiet intensity. He projected a calm confidence that said he didn’t care what other people thought of him, and coming from a family obsessed with appearances, that attitude both intrigued and attracted her in equal parts. She’d known about his family’s past—everyone did—but his connection to the notorious Matthew Colton hadn’t bothered her. Ridge had a gentleness about him, and as she’d talked to him and gotten to know him, she realized the quiet air everyone mistook for an aloof arrogance was actually a defense against the pain of gossip and rejection. Ridge was so used to people judging him by his father’s deeds that he had stopped trying to reach out and connect with others. Once he’d decided to open up and trust Darcy, he’d let down those walls and his true, amazing personality had shone through.
Around her, at least.
Her parents had hit the roof when they’d found out about the relationship. It was the one time in her life Darcy could remember them taking an actual interest in her activities and friends. They had insisted she break up with Ridge right away, but Darcy had refused. Her obstinacy had led to a further cooling of their relationship, and even though she’d eventually walked away from Ridge, she and her parents had never really warmed to each other. It was part of why she’d chosen to take the temporary job in Granite Gulch. While she knew her parents would never really understand her choices, she didn’t want to start her life in New York without at least attempting to mend some fences here.
Shaking off those thoughts, Darcy returned her focus to the nurse. “I know I won’t be here for very long, but I do want to try to help while I can.”
The woman nodded, a small smile playing at the corners of her mouth as if Darcy had just confirmed one of her suspicions. “Give me just a minute—I’ll look up that number for you.”
“Thanks.” Darcy turned to the computer, pulling up the list of patients still waiting to be seen. They’d been triaged according to illness or severity of injury when they’d walked in the door, and since no one was in immediate danger of dying, she’d see them in the order in which they’d arrived.
She’d just pulled up the file on her next patient—a young woman with flu-like symptoms—when she heard the faint wail of a baby’s cry. “Someone’s not happy,” she murmured, pausing to listen. It was a regular, rhythmic cry of a hungry baby, not the piercing wail of pain or the heartbreakingly weak cry of illness, so she turned her attention back to the computer screen.
The sound of urgent voices drifted back from the waiting room, along with snippets of the conversation.
“Sir, you can’t—” said Carol, the receptionist, her distress plain.
“Not leaving her—” This was a low rumble of a voice, most likely the baby’s father. Who was he refusing to leave behind?
“Simply not allowed—” Carol was getting frustrated now, her tone becoming challenging. Darcy could picture the woman leaning forward, her glasses sliding down her nose as she glared up at the man who dared to defy her. Carol wasn’t much to look at physically, but she ran the front desk of the ER with a drill sergeant’s precision and she didn’t take crap from anyone. Whoever was out there was going to have to bend to Carol’s will, and the sooner he did it, the better.
“Service animal—” The words were clipped and formal, effectively ending the conversation.
Well, that was interesting. By law, they couldn’t refuse entry to a service animal—something Carol would already know. However, most service
