Family Practice. Judy Duarte
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“Are you all right?” she asked.
Eric struggled to stand, tears running down his dusty cheeks to a quivering bottom lip. “That dumb dog—”
“Gulliver didn’t mean to knock you down,” Kara said. “He thought you wanted to race and play.”
“I know, but it really hurts, Kara.”
She scooped the boy up in her arms, then carried him toward the cottage he shared with Lizzie. “We’ll get you cleaned up and bandaged. You’ll be good as new in no time.”
“It stings, really bad.”
“I know it does, honey.” Kara carried Eric to the office steps, then adjusted him in her arms so she could open the door. “I don’t think we should let Gulliver play soccer with us anymore. He’s too big and rough.”
Eric blew at a scrape on his palm, then glanced at Kara. “But that would hurt his feelings, like when the kids at school don’t pick me to be on their team.”
Kara sighed. “You’re right. I guess we’ll have to figure out something else.” She knew how cruel some kids could be. Freckle-face strawberry. Raggedy Kara Ann. Don’t play with Kara—she’s got cooties.
Sometimes the sounds of childhood crept back to haunt her. She stilled them by remembering the kindness some of her teachers had shown—teachers like Miss Green who had shown compassion for a homeless girl by keeping a comb and brush set in her desk drawer.
Every morning, Kara would stop by the classroom where she could wash her face and comb her hair before the first bell rang. Most days, Miss Green would have an extra barrette or ribbon. The teasing seemed to ease after that, which was probably why Kara was still obsessed with cleanliness. She might not have any clothes that weren’t hand-me-downs or secondhand purchases, but she owned an array of soaps, body lotions and hair products that would put a teenage girl to shame.
As Kara nudged the door with her shoulder, Lizzie looked up from her desk. “Land sakes, what happened?”
Michael watched her every bit as intently as Lizzie, but she hoped to get Eric into the bathroom with as little fuss as possible. Things like this seemed to cause Lizzie’s already high blood pressure to skyrocket.
“Nothing that a little soap, water and bandaging won’t help,” Kara said, hoping to sound cheerful.
“But his leg,” Lizzie cried. “The doctors said to be careful.”
“He’s fine. Don’t worry, Lizzie. Sit down before you have a heart attack.”
Michael was at Kara’s side in a moment. “Here, let me help,” he said, taking Eric from her arms.
She appreciated his assistance, which would allow her hands the freedom to care for the wounds. “The bathroom is this way. If you’ll just set him on the counter, I can do the rest.”
Kara led Michael down the hall, but when he placed Eric upon the pink-tiled counter, he didn’t turn and leave. Instead, he carefully checked each wound. His gentle assessment surprised her. Most men had a rather macho side, at least those she’d met while working at the Pacifica Bar and Grill. An image of Jason Baker came to mind, a man who had once thought Kara should be thrilled that a guy of his wealth and social standing should want to date her.
Hon, she could imagine him saying, just rub a little dirt on it. It’ll toughen up that wimpy kid.
“Do you have any antibacterial soap?” Michael asked, pulling Kara from her musing.
Unable to spot any on the countertop, she stooped to search the cabinet under the sink where Lizzie kept bathroom supplies. Finding soap in a clear, plastic bottle decorated with cartoon characters, she stood. “You don’t have to help me. I can take it from here.”
“It’s no trouble,” he said.
She watched him work carefully, all the while talking to Eric about soccer and school, taking his mind off the cleaning of gravel embedded in his right knee. Then Michael paused, glancing at one leg then the other. Noting the extensive scars and disparity in musculature? Kara wondered. If so, he didn’t comment, which was good. Eric was self-conscious of the difference.
“You’re pretty good with fixing skinned knees and hands,” Kara said, trying to make conversation. “What else are you good at?”
He looked at her with another one of those unreadable expressions, then their gazes locked for only a moment, but long enough for her to feel a flutter in her stomach and a warmth in her breast.
What else are you good at? Good grief. Had she said that? It sounded so suggestive, and she certainly hadn’t meant to…
“I mean,” she said, “any other talents?”
“None to boast about,” he answered. His amber eyes never left hers, and the room seemed to close in on them.
Boy, it was hot in here. Kara blew out her breath. “Ready for some gauze and tape?” she asked, trying to still her awkwardness.
“Yeah,” Michael said, returning his attention to Eric.
When Eric had been bandaged, Kara reached to take the boy from the counter and set him on the floor, but apparently Michael had the same idea. Their hands brushed together, and they both jerked back in response.
Kara, her fingers still tingling from his touch, felt her cheeks warm. Darn that telltale flush. She didn’t want him thinking she felt embarrassment or anything else. He was a stranger, just passing through. And she had a lot on her plate these days. A brief—
A brief what?
For goodness sake, was she even thinking an odd encounter in Lizzie’s bathroom with a stranger was a prelude to anything at all?
She’d been reading too many romance books.
And if she’d learned anything at all, happily ever after only happened in fairy tales. It had been a tough lesson, but one she wouldn’t ever forget. She would never allow a Prince Charming to rescue her and set her up in a castle in the sky.
Kara Westin could take care of herself.
Kara carried Gulliver’s leash and stepped out on the porch, intent on taking her usual sunset walk south of the harbor. It had become an evening ritual, ever since she’d first moved into the Haven.
The quiet hour before dusk was her favorite time of the day. She relished the tranquillity as the sun sank low in the pink and gray streaked sky. It gave her time to think, to plan, to dream.
Resting her hands against the lattice railing, she watched the waves crash upon the shore. Sometimes, when things were really quiet, she envisioned herself on the deck of a huge ship, sailing across the sea to a land of plenty and promise. Kara didn’t have many possessions, but she did own a vivid imagination, something she found priceless.
A lone gull sounded in the distance, and she searched the horizon. Instead of the bird, she spotted Michael, her new neighbor. He sat, alone and pensive,