that gave her a maternal jolt she hadn’t expected. It wasn’t enough to make her change her mind to become a single mom, but it did make Ellie more aware of the baby she was carrying.
“Look, I’ll cut back on the hours. Eat better. But I’m not going to go home, kick my feet up and watch old movies for the next almost five months. I have to work. My company needs me, and I need it.”
“You’re just like your mother. Do you know that?” Doc Shaffer leaned back in his chair, typed something into his computer, then shook his head. “She was as driven as you are. And as stubborn.”
Ellie Landers wanted to smile at the comparison, but she couldn’t as she didn’t want to be like her mother and didn’t want to be compared to her either. “And look how successful she’s been. She owns one of the largest technology companies in Nevada.” And she’d raised a child as a single mom. Well, mostly in absentia. But she did get the credit for hiring the right people to take care of her. All this was something Ellie wasn’t prepared to do.
Children needed a real family, a parent or parents who didn’t hire someone to take their child to the playground, who didn’t pay for the most qualified caregivers but, instead, took responsibility for that care themselves. Family dinners, stories at bedtime. That’s what children needed—what Ellie had never had, and what she wasn’t able to give. Not with her job or her chosen lifestyle. That’s what Ellie had learned from her own upbringing and what she carried with her every day of her life. That kind of life wasn’t meant to be her kind of life.
Still, the dream of it—home, family. Husband. It was nice. But so ethereal it made Ellie sad. So that’s where she stopped because the rest of the dream was so vague. But the husband was not. Since Reno, she’d had a vision of him. Even more now that she was carrying his baby.
“Whatever the case, stop at Reception on your way out and schedule your next appointment. I’d like to see you back in six weeks as a precautionary measure. Also, I’ve written you a prescription for prenatal vitamins, and the name of a good physical therapist should your back spasms continue.”
“I don’t need a therapist for backache and I already take vitamins. I started the day I found out I was pregnant.”
“Which is good. But the ones I’m prescribing have more iron—you’re a little anemic, and they also have much more folic acid than anything you can get OTC, because you need folic acid. It’s for the healthy development of the brain, eyes, cells and nervous system.”
“I know,” Ellie said. “Remember, I worked in obstetrics?” She’d been a good nurse, but nursing hadn’t suited her the way she’d hoped it would. Maybe because it required nurturing in abundance, and she didn’t have a speck of it in her. She had been good at the procedural aspects, but had lacked the genuine human touch that was also needed. Ellie could see her shortcoming, and she’d honestly worked to correct it because she loved medicine, but there had always been something missing. She couldn’t define it, couldn’t describe it to her supervisor when she’d resigned from her job.
And now, ten years later, she still couldn’t define what that lack was other than she simply didn’t have a nurturer’s instinct. But she’d found her niche—medical illustration.
Ellie had always loved drawing and was pretty good at it. Had won a few childhood awards. Turned it into her minor course of study in college. So when she’d read that it was an expanding field with growth potential, she’d jumped at the chance to be part of it, anxious to combine her love of medicine with her love of drawing. Of course, more education had been required. Two additional years of study on top of the four she’d had in nursing school. In those two years, however, she’d gone from not only wanting to be an illustrator but wanting to build her own company. And it was also exciting. Even now, she had no regrets.
“Yes, I know you were a nurse—for about a minute—then you moved on. Remember that?”
“And those charts of fetal development you have hanging on the wall in your waiting room...” She smiled. She’d done them. And she’d illustrated numerous medical texts. Plus, they were doing medical videography now.
Doc Shaffer laughed. “Point taken. You’ve made a name for yourself, but that name must cut back on her hours, and get more rest. You work too hard, Ellie, and while I’m an advocate for women getting on with their lives when they’re pregnant, your life is a little over the top. In other words, baby needs some rest.”
Rest—that she would do. Even though she wasn’t going to keep this baby, she did want to give it every advantage she could coming into this world, and keeping herself healthy was the start of it. “So, is that all you want? Or would you like another pint of blood?”
Doc Shaffer chuckled. “You know what I want, and at the rate you’re going, that’s a big order.”
“Then I’ll do better,” she promised. And she would. While Ellie didn’t want the responsibility of raising a child, not with her fear of turning out to be the kind of mother hers was, she certainly didn’t want to put this baby at risk. She’d made her choice the day her dipstick had gone from blue to pink, and nothing had changed since then. She’d tell Dr. Matt McClain he was going to be a father and give him the option to raise their baby. Or she would opt for adoption, if he didn’t want to. It was all straightforward. Ellie owned a business and that was her life, all she wanted. Real babies, boyfriends and husbands were not needed.
So all Ellie had to do now was tell someone who’d expected a couple of casual days of fun at a medical convention that casual had turned into commitment. If that’s what he wanted. He’d seemed like a nice guy. A little distracted. But kind. And polite. Really good looking...traditionally tall, dark and handsome, and rugged. Dark eyes, wavy black hair, rugged. Built like she’d never seen another man built.
Just thinking about him now gave Ellie goose-bumps. The way he’d looked those couple of nights when she’d let go of her self-made business-first rules, let her hair down and lived in a fantasy that had never happened in her reality was still with her. He’d hung on in her mind long after Reno. From time to time she’d even caught herself distracted by a daydream of him. A leftover feeling she couldn’t explain and didn’t want to explore. Then the reality of those days had crept in, about six weeks later.
And now, well—all Ellie had to do was the figurative baby-in-a-basket-on-the-doorstep thing, and hope he’d take that basket in. It was his baby too and not only did he have the right to know, he had the right to be a daddy, if that’s what he wanted. Or be involved in the adoption process, if that’s what he wanted. Either way, she’d know what was going to happen soon. Ellie was glad he was out of the military now and back home, because from here she was headed straight to Forgeburn, Utah.
* * *
“It’s not a traditional medical practice,” Dr. Donald Granger explained. “But you know that since you’re from here. Most of it’s a cowboy practice now, and that’s about as tough as it gets. Then you’ve got some of the canyon resort areas with tourists who need medical care occasionally. And we do have some locals in a couple little spread-out towns. There’s a pretty fair patient base—enough to keep one doc busy.
“If you need help, the clinic in Whipple Creek will usually send someone out for a day or two, but you’ve got to keep in mind that you’re the only real medical help within a hundred miles in any direction. So what you’ll be getting is a practice that stretches out for more miles than any practical medical practice should have to, house calls that’ll take up half your day for something minor—and, yes, house calls are part of what the people here expect—and the cowboy trailers—good
