His Long-Awaited Bride. Jessica Matthews

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His Long-Awaited Bride - Jessica Matthews Mills & Boon Medical

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motioned to the small spiral notebook that held Marissa’s findings. “How’s he doing?”

      In lieu of good news, she opted for the stock answer. “He’s holding his own.”

      Abby’s smile wavered. “That’s better than the alternative, isn’t it?”

      “Absolutely.” Marissa supposed it was a case of seeing a glass as either half-empty or half-full. A report of “No change” might not be a strong ray of hope, but it was better than “His condition is deteriorating.”

      Before Abby could ask more questions, Marissa posed one of her own. “What are your plans today?”

      “I thought I’d read to him this morning,” Abby said. “I brought Oliver Twist.”

      “‘Please, sir, may I have some more?’” Marissa quoted.

      “Then you’ve read the story?”

      “Read the story, seen the movie. Although, to be honest, I liked the movie version better.” Marissa grinned. “And that’s the only line I remember, but don’t tell anyone.”

      Abby giggled. “It’ll be our secret.” She stroked her husband’s face. “Isn’t that right, dear?”

      Suspecting that Abby would read until she was hoarse, Marissa cautioned her not to overdo it.

      “Oh, I won’t. You see, I have a doctor’s appointment this afternoon. Then it’ll be nap time—doctor’s orders,” she added ruefully. “So I won’t come back until after dinner. You’ll call me if…”

      “There’s any change,” Marissa promised, as she always did. “Your number is posted in the nurses’ station. By the way, aren’t your childbirth classes starting soon?”

      Abby rubbed her tummy once again. “This week.”

      “Do you have a labor coach?”

      “With my parents and sister living so far away, Lonnie’s brother, Eric, has offered to stand in.”

      “I’m glad you have someone, but don’t hesitate to call if you need me.” Marissa had given Abby both her home phone and cellphone numbers several weeks previously as an emergency contact. It seemed the least she could do for the new mother in such a sad situation.

      “Believe me, I won’t.” Abby patted her stomach. “I’m not about to take any chances with Junior.”

      Marissa nodded, well aware that this baby was surrounded with love and care even without Abby’s firm assurance. And while she might not be able to do as much for Abby as she would like, the one thing she could do was to give Abby’s husband the best possible nursing that she could provide. With any luck, he might be alert when his son or daughter arrived in a few short weeks.

      She cast a final glance at the array of monitors above her patient’s head. Satisfied by the readings, she deftly adjusted the blanket over Lonnie’s feet. “I’ll leave you two alone for now,” she said with a smile. “If you need anything, I’m only a few steps away.”

      Her calm deserted her the moment she left the room. Determined to ignore Justin as much as possible, or at least to treat him with cool indifference, she crossed into the nurses’ station, braced for a fight.

      To her surprise, Justin was noticeably absent.

      He hadn’t seen his patient, so he couldn’t have gone far.

      “Where’s Dr. St. James?” she asked Kristi, hating to ask in case he was within earshot.

      “Dr. Tremaine paged him for the ER. He left about ten minutes ago, and said he’d be back as soon as he could. Do you need him?”

      Need Justin St. James? Hardly, she inwardly scoffed. “Not at the moment. I just didn’t want him to get away without rewriting a medication order.” Then, because she wanted to push the man from her mind, she changed the subject. “I noticed we’re low on syringes and blood-gas kits. Before I check through the drawers, can you think of anything else to add to my order?”

      “Not right now.”

      Marissa nodded. As she compared her checklist to the labeled cupboards and drawers in the small medication room adjoining the nurses’ station, she wished that her life was as neatly arranged.

      Maybe that was all it took—a checklist. Let’s see, she thought as she started a mental tally. She had a house that suited her perfectly, even if it was on the small side. A Cairn terrier that served as companion and confidant. Wonderful neighbors, especially Lucy Mullins next door. She also had great friends and lived in a community that boasted enough shopping opportunities and free-time activities to keep her happy. What more could a girl want?

      A husband. A couple of kids. A family.

      Okay, so those things were missing. And, yes, she admitted, those were major items for a woman who had been raised by her grandmother, thanks to her mother’s parade of husbands who hadn’t been interested in having a stepdaughter underfoot. The fact that she wanted a family at all was a testament to her grandmother’s moral fiber and value system. If she’d actually lived with her mother during the turbulence of all her marriages, she might have felt differently, but her grandmother had been her anchor and her role model.

      The one thing she had learned from her mother was not to be taken in by a charming smile and a handsome face. While she considered herself “cautious” when it came to the opposite sex, some might call her “picky.” Admittedly, she was, although she’d dreamed of having her family—or at least a husband—by the time she hit thirty. She had a year to go before she missed her self-imposed deadline.

      Of all the men she’d ever dated, Travis Pendleton had the most potential of being The One. And if their relationship continued to move along as well and as fast as it had so far, she just might be on the way to realizing her dream with time to spare.

      Idly, she wondered how Justin would react to news of her getting married. He’d be shocked, to be sure, and would try to change her mind, but if this was the right thing for her to do, then nothing would stand in her way.

      But, oh, how she’d love to see the look on his face when she told him….

      Justin lingered at the far end of the nurses’ station, out of Marissa’s sight as she sat in front of a computer terminal. She seemed in a good mood, which was a relief considering the way they’d parted thirty minutes ago. Even if she hadn’t been, he’d always been able to wiggle his way back into her good graces. He felt certain he could do so again.

      Do you really think so? his little voice asked.

      It might not be as easy this time, he admitted. Discrediting the man who’d provided more bouquets than most women saw in a lifetime hadn’t been the smartest thing he’d ever done. He should have known that she’d feel compelled to defend the man. The problem was, he didn’t quite understand why his temper had suddenly flared at the mention of Pendleton and his dramatic gesture.

      You’re jealous.

      Hardly, he scoffed at Marissa’s words echoing in his mind. He simply didn’t want her to be taken in by a man who was all flash and no substance. If he could

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