stunned as she was.
“But if you both can’t do that, or if one of you wants to and the other doesn’t, that’s fine.” Tammy sighed, as if already having anticipated being disappointed on that score. “I’m okay with just one of you becoming her actual legal guardian, as long as she has extended family—like either the Monroe or the McCabe clans—to take care of her. So that no matter what, she will never end up in the system...” Tammy teared up. “And will always have family around to raise her.”
That, really, Violet thought, her heart going out to her late patient, wasn’t too much to want.
More murmurs could be heard prompting in the background.
Tammy turned back to the camera. “It’s a big decision. You both will need time to think about it and discuss it with each other.”
Quietly, she pleaded, “While you are doing that, I’m going to ask that you personally care for my little girl rather than put her in foster care. Until such time one of you but preferably both decide to raise Ava as your own—which is what I hope will happen—or can work with the social workers to find a suitable adoptive family. One with a lot of close relatives as backup to ensure she is loved, no matter what.”
Again, Violet thought, realizing how much she counted on the extensive McCabe clan for love and support, it was not too much to ask for. Gavin had a big, loving family in the Monroe clan, too.
“Ideally, I’d also like Ava to be raised in or around Laramie, Texas, so you can watch over her and if not be her parents, at least be her godparents as she grows up. What I want most for my daughter is for her to be cherished. And I know the two of you have hearts big enough to do just that. So—” Tammy swallowed hard, moisture glistening in her eyes “—thanks. For everything you did for me and Jared last summer and everything you’re going to do for my darling Ava.”
Tammy wiped a tear from her cheek. A murmur could be heard in the background. She nodded and the video ended.
“I realize this is a lot to hit you with, which is why I wanted to talk to you in person,” Mitzy said.
No kidding, Violet thought. Her heart had been turned inside out just hearing about the situation. And she hadn’t even met the little darling yet.
Gavin had to be equally thrown by the request, yet it was impossible for her to tell from his inscrutable expression.
Still feeling a little shell-shocked, Violet swung back to Mitzy. “Where’s the baby now?”
“In the hospital in Dallas, where she was born two weeks ago.”
“Two weeks?” Gavin echoed at last.
“Ava came into the world only weighing four pounds.” Mitzy went on to explain the medical problems the preemie had already endured, which included breathing struggles, weight loss, feeding issues and difficulty absorbing nutrients.
“She won’t be released until she’s into a regular bassinet, taking food from a bottle and gaining the appropriate weight. But if you two are willing to become legal guardians, at least temporarily, we could transport her by the end of the week to the hospital here. Naturally, it helps that you’re both physicians.”
And hence would be better equipped to help a struggling newborn, Violet thought, switching quickly into caretaker mode.
The social worker lifted her hand. “I know neither of you had any idea you’d been named as Ava’s legal guardian. Never mind consented to Tammy’s request. So I don’t want—or expect—either of you to give me an answer about any of this right now. Talk it over with each other before making a decision.”
Gavin nodded his understanding.
“We’ll get back to you tomorrow,” Violet promised, still feeling a little dazed.
Mitzy gathered her belongings and left.
Gavin turned to Violet, his expression serious, intense. “So,” he said heavily, seeming to be in as much a quandary as she was, “what do we do?”
The usual idealism shining in her pretty brown eyes, Violet turned to Gavin, frowned and said, “Obviously, we can’t adopt baby Ava together.” She walked back outside and he followed her. “We barely know each other.”
Barely?
While it was true they hadn’t hung out together as kids and had run in different social circles—it was certainly different now that they were both physicians.
Irked to find her so quick to discount the time they had spent together, Gavin stepped in once again to lend a hand unpacking the trailer. “We’ve worked together for the past five years while we completed our residencies and fellowship training.”
“You know what I mean. Yes, I know your preferred ways of dealing with certain medical situations, just as you surely know mine. But when it comes to the intricate personal details of your life, I don’t know you any better than I know the rest of the staff at the hospital.” Violet plucked a lamp base out of the pile of belongings, rooting around until she found the shade. “And you don’t really know me at all, either.”
Gavin’s jaw tightened. Oh, he knew her, all right. Maybe better than she thought.
For instance, he knew her preferred coffee was a skinny vanilla latte. And that she loved enchiladas above all else—to the point she’d sampled all twenty-five types from the local Tex-Mex restaurant.
He tore his gaze from the barest hint of cleavage in the vee of her T-shirt and concentrated instead on the dismayed blush of color sweeping her delicate cheeks.
“And whose fault is that?” he inquired huskily.
“Mine, obviously,” she said with a temperamental lift of her finely arched brow, “since I prefer to keep a firewall between my professional and private lives.”
More like a nuclear shield, he thought grimly.
Having tried to pierce it once or twice himself, he’d given up and concentrated on his own work, moving on to occasionally date other women. Except for his one disastrous engagement, none of those relationships had ever amounted to anything more than a short-lived flirtation. Mostly because none of the other women had even begun to measure up to the sexy, irrepressible Violet McCabe.
He gazed into her eyes, chiding, “What private life?”
She looked down her nose at him, lamp and shade still in hand, as he stacked moving boxes onto the wheeled dolly. “You are too funny, Monroe.” She stepped back reluctantly to let him push the dolly into the barn for her.
Realizing how ridiculous it was to still be lusting after her when she was still not over losing Sterling, Gavin gestured to the place she’d been putting all the other boxes.
She nodded her approval and he set them down.
“Besides,” she taunted, watching as he straightened to his full six feet three inches, “it’s not as if you have a viable personal life, either.”
Unable
