she did. But when she passed him, he caught the scent of lemon and his stomach twisted into a knot, as it did whenever he got too close to her. He didn’t get too close to her if he could help it—for lots of very good reasons.
Raina glanced at Shep as she settled Manuel on the gurney. “On the phone you told me this started about an hour ago?”
“Yes. Before I put him in his crib. At first I thought he was just overtired or didn’t want to go to bed. But then he started pulling on his ear, so I took his temperature and saw he had a fever.”
“I’ll take it again,” she assured him with quiet efficiency. Her gaze met his. The earth seemed to shake a little and they both quickly looked away.
With coiled energy wound tight inside him, Shep moved to the gurney to hold Manuel. He hadn’t intended it, but somehow his hands got tangled up with hers before she pulled them away from the little boy. Their gazes connected again…and this time held. Shep’s blood rushed fast, and in that instant, he thought he saw returned interest in the pretty doctor’s very dark brown eyes.
A moment later, he guessed he was mistaken. In a small town like Sagebrush, Texas, where they both lived—about fifteen minutes from Lubbock, where this hospital was located—certain people had a higher gossip profile than others. Dr. Gibson was one of them.
He’d asked his nanny, Eva, if she knew any particulars about the doctor, and he still remembered what Eva had said. “Her husband was a firefighter in New York City. He died saving others on September eleventh. Somehow, she picked up her life and finished her schooling, then returned here to be with her family. I can only imagine what she’s gone through, and it’s not something I ever want to even think about going through.”
As Shep studied Raina Gibson now, he saw no signs of a tragic past—unless it had carved those tiny lines under her eyes and fostered the ever-present quiet and calm he sensed about her.
She went to the counter, where she took an ear thermometer from its holder. When she returned to the table, she focused solely on Manuel. “This little guy has been through so much. I feel so sorry for him. Another ear infection is the last thing he needs.” She cut Shep a sideways glance. “Or you need. How are Joey and Roy?” She had treated eight-year-old Joey last year for a sinus infection that wouldn’t quit.
“They’re good. They get upset when Manuel’s sick, though. Roy’s afraid he’ll lose more of his hearing.”
Raina studied Manuel’s temperature and frowned. “It’s one hundred one.” Seconds later she was examining the toddler with the otoscope and then her stethoscope. Finally, she gave Shep her verdict. “I don’t like the looks of this, Mr. McGraw.”
“Shep,” he corrected her, not for the first time. After all, Manuel had seen her at least three times over the past six months.
Now she didn’t avoid his gaze, but looked him directly in the eyes. That was his first clue he wasn’t going to like what she had to say.
“Okay, Shep.”
That was the second clue. He had the feeling she’d used his first name to soften the blow.
“I’ll give you a prescription again for Manuel, to get this cleared up. But I have to recommend that you let me do a procedure to put tubes in his ears. I’m afraid if we don’t, he’ll lose his hearing altogether.”
Before he caught himself, Shep swore. “Sorry,” he mumbled. “I just don’t want to put him through anything else.” He picked up his son from the table, easily lifted him to his shoulder where Manuel snuggled against his collarbone.
Raina’s gaze was sympathetic, her voice gentle. “I know what he’s dealt with already. But he’s in your care now, and I can see that you love him. You have to think beyond the procedure to when he’s three or four. You have to do what’s best for him long-term.”
Shep patted Manuel’s back. Finally, he said, “Tell me what’s involved.”
Taking a few steps closer, Raina stopped within arm’s reach. “The surgery’s called a myringotomy. I make a tiny incision in the eardrum and any fluid will be removed. Then I’ll insert a tympanostomy tube into the drum to keep the middle ear aerated. We’ll leave the tubes in from six months to several years.”
She was close enough that Shep was aware of her body heat as well as his. “Will he have to have surgery to remove them again?”
Tilting her head, she ran her hand over Manuel’s hair then brought her gaze back to Shep. “No. Eventually they’ll extrude from the eardrum and fall into the ear canal. I’ll be able to remove them during a routine office visit, or they’ll just fall out of his ears.”
Shep could hardly imagine his small son in this big hospital, with medical personnel caring for him. “And you believe we have to do this?”
“Shep, Manuel has already lost some hearing. You know that from the assessment I did. I’m afraid if we don’t do this, he’ll have speech problems, too.”
“And the downside?”
“I’ll give you a sheet of information and you can read about the pros and cons. As often as you’re bringing Manuel to me, I don’t think you have a choice.”
“I hate hearing statements like that,” Shep muttered.
Manuel began crying again and Shep rocked him back and forth. “How long will this operation take?” he asked over the baby’s heartbreaking distress.
Raina leaned closer to him, as if in empathy…as if she might want to take Manuel into her arms again…as if she hated seeing a child cry.
“Ten to fifteen minutes. It’s done on an outpatient basis. Manuel will be given anesthesia. Once he’s recovered from that, he can go home. Chances are good he’ll feel better right away, because that pressure in his ears will be released. He’s been suffering with this for too long. And so have you,” she added with an understanding Shep found almost unsettling.
Again, their gazes locked and neither of them seemed to be able to look away. Shep didn’t know what was happening to him, but he didn’t like it. Every time he stared into those impossibly dark eyes of hers he felt unnerved, and if he was forced to admit it, aroused. That wasn’t what he should feel, standing in this cubicle with her while he held Manuel. He should feel grateful…nothing else.
He must have been scowling from here into the next county, and she misinterpreted his expression. “I know you’re worried. Every parent worries when anything is wrong with his child. But try to anticipate a positive outcome. Think about Manuel not having any more painful earaches.”
“The anesthesia bothers me,” he admitted.
“You must trust the doctors here. Give us a chance to help him.”
Shep was used to being in control. His history had taught him not to let anyone else run his life…let alone his son’s. “How soon do you want to do this?”
“How about next week?”
“That soon?”
“You have a housekeeper, right?”
Did she remember this kind of information about all of
