used an over-the-counter cortisone cream. But the area is getting larger, so I thought it was time to try something else.” The thirty-year-old grinned. “Unless you’re going to tell me I haven’t given the cream enough time to work?”
The lesion was about the size of a silver dollar, red and flat, and the center was scaly looking. A textbook picture if she ever saw one.
“Not a chance,” Ivy said with a smile. “Your cream won’t help. Robbie has ringworm. It’s a fungus infection and requires special medication.”
“Ringworm?” Molly was aghast. “Are you sure?”
“I could do a skin scraping for fungus and send it to the lab, if you’d like, but I’m certain about my diagnosis.”
“Oh, I’m not questioning you,” Molly was quick to reply. “It’s just that I thought it was transmitted from animals, and we don’t have a dog or a cat.”
“That’s often the case,” Ivy agreed, “but sometimes a child will pick up the fungus from the soil.”
Molly exhaled a long-suffering sigh. “He does love to play in the dirt with his trucks,” she said as she fingercombed the little boy’s sandy-colored hair.
“See my truck?” Robbie held the metal vehicle under Ivy’s nose. “It goes fast. Vroooom, vroooom.”
“I see,” Ivy told him. “I’ll bet you’re an excellent driver.”
Focused on his toy, and making the appropriate engine noises, Robbie jumped off his mom’s lap and began pushing it along the linoleum.
“So what do I do?” Molly asked. “Keep him out of the dirt?”
“You can try, but I suspect you’ll fight a losing battle.”
“To put it mildly.”
Ivy wrote on her prescription pad. “Here’s a script for an anti-fungal cream. Apply it to his arm twice daily.”
“For how long?”
“Until the patch disappears, which will take a few weeks.”
“That’s it?”
“You should also sterilize his towels, his bedding, and any clothes that come in contact with the area. You don’t want this to spread to anyone else in your family.”
“OK. Not a problem.”
“If you notice the lesion becomes redder, or oozes pus, come back. Same for if it hasn’t disappeared in three or four weeks. And if by some chance you notice another area developing, start treating it immediately with the cream.”
“Will do. Thanks so much, Doctor.”
Ivy smiled as she escorted Molly to the door of the exam room. “You’re welcome.”
Heather waited outside the cubicle. “You aren’t going to believe this—”
“After today, I can believe anything,” Ivy said dryly. “How many more patients are waiting?”
“None.” The woman grinned. “Robbie was the last one.”
Ivy glanced at the clock. 6:15 p.m. “You’re right. I don’t believe it. I thought we’d be here until seven at least.”
“Same here. I guess we were lucky. And, speaking of lucky, you have a visitor.”
It was too late in the evening for a drug rep to drop in and peddle his wares. “Who is it?”
“I have no idea. He wouldn’t leave his name, but he’s quite a hunk if you ask me.”
“Then it’s no one you know?”
“Nope, which is a shame. He’s the sort who would have women flocking around him if he’d bother to smile. He’s the dark, brooding Heathcliffe type.”
Instantly a picture of Ethan Locke flashed into Ivy’s head, but she dismissed the idea. He wouldn’t have any reason to stop by her office. No doubt he’d rather walk barefoot through a Texas sandburr patch than run into her again.
“OK, I’ll find out who he is and what he wants. Meanwhile, enjoy your evening at home.”
“I will.”
Ivy told her receptionist goodnight, then beelined to the waiting room. “Sorry to keep you waiting,” she told the tall fellow who was studying one of her favorite Anne Geddes prints, depicting three babies decked out in yellow bunny costumes, spooning each other as they lay fast asleep.
He turned to face her and she caught her breath.
Ethan Locke.
He didn’t look much different than he had earlier, although he’d shaved, revealing an endearing dimple in his chin.
“Well, well, this is a surprise,” she said evenly, both suspicious and curious as to why he’d tracked her down. But she didn’t intend to make it easy for him. “If you want a refill on your antisocial pills you’ll have to see Jed, because I don’t treat adults. His office is next door.”
His face turned ruddy. “I deserve that, I suppose, but I came to apologize.”
He’d surprised her, because on the basis of their first meeting she hadn’t thought he was the sort to worry over what she or anyone else might think of him, much less apologize for his actions. If she weren’t so tired, and if she didn’t have hospital rounds to make yet, she might have been willing to spar with him for a while longer. But she was, and she did, and she wanted to fall into bed as soon as possible.
“Accepted. Now, if you’ll excuse me—”
“Wait.”
The one word stopped her in her tracks. She studied him carefully, noticing how he seemed to hesitate, as if he needed to bolster his courage. Instinctively, she knew his apology was only an excuse. Perhaps even a test of some sort….
“Look,” she said slowly, “I’d love to stay and chat, but I have a hundred and one things to do before this day officially ends. If you’re here for a reason, just spit it out and save me the suspense. I don’t have the energy to play twenty questions.”
“Have you found someone to help you?”
“I haven’t had time,” she admitted. “But, as you said, I’m sure I’ll find someone. Eventually. Why do you ask?”
She’d wanted to say Why do you care?, but she’d eaten lunch, and they’d finished earlier than she’d expected, so she could afford to be nice. For the moment.
He paused, his gaze steady. “Because I’m offering my services.”
CHAPTER TWO
FROM the expression on Ivy’s face, Ethan had obviously startled her speechless. He wouldn’t blame her if she told him to buzz off, after they’d parted on less than friendly
