his name, something coiled inside him. Lots of people called him by his given name rather than his professional title, but that husky American accent, devoid of the crisp consonants that peppered the speech of those in Britain, warmed parts of him that had been frozen in time and space.
She provided hope. A fresh perspective. She was unconventional, could think outside the box. Her files listed one of her weaknesses as being her hard-nosed approach. She had difficulty being a team player, and she wasn’t afraid to question findings or demand a test be run again if it wasn’t done to her satisfaction. He didn’t see that as a weakness. In this case he viewed her reputation as a strength, which was why he hadn’t insisted she attend the staff meetings related to Ivy’s care.
She’d made a few enemies back home—and even here in Cambridge. But she’d also made friends. And one of those friends appeared to be his daughter.
“Where do you look next? She’s had no headaches. No symptoms other than the growing weakness in her limbs. And wondering whether that weakness is going to progress to her breathing or autonomic nervous system is making me—”
“Crazy? I know. It’s making us all a little crazy. That kid has a lot of people wrapped around her little finger.”
“Yes, she does.” He smiled. “Including her father.”
Her fingers toyed with the edge of his sleeve again, not quite touching him, as if she wanted to give comfort but was afraid of skin-to-skin contact. “We’re going to figure this out.”
Right now he was glad she wasn’t touching him. Because the warm flow of her voice was doing what her hand wasn’t. It was permeating his pores and meandering through his bloodstream, where it affected his breathing, his heart rate and his thoughts—taking them into dangerous territory. Territory that only his late wife had occupied. He couldn’t afford to let Madison trespass there. If he did, it could spell disaster for both him and his daughter.
“I’m sure you will.” In a deliberate move, he tugged his sleeve from her grasp. “I’m counting on it. And so is Ivy.”
Then he was walking away, before he could ask exactly what she and Ivy had been planning for Christmas, or ask if Madison was including herself in those plans.
* * *
Once back in the tiny office she’d been given while Dr. Camargo’s office was being renovated, Madison fingered the notebook in her pocket. She was glad that Theo hadn’t asked her to hand it over to him. He’d seemed pretty upset to find the two of them in there laughing, but it hadn’t been easy to pretend when her heart was aching over the little girl’s revelation. Because the first thing on Ivy’s wish list was for her father to like Christmas.
Her eyes had burned. It seemed that she wasn’t the only one with an aversion to the season. And the last thing she could promise anyone was that she’d help them learn to like a holiday she detested. Maybe she should put that on her Christmas list too.
Except Madison had no interest in changing her ways at this late date. She did what she could to get through the last month of the year, closed her eyes as she passed the festive trees and lights, and then breathed a sigh of relief once the calendar rolled over into a new year.
Fingering the thick file folder on her desk, she flipped it open to the first page, where Ivy’s vital statistics were listed in bold clinical letters. The child was far wiser than her five years. And she saw things Theo probably didn’t even know she was aware of. Or maybe his daughter had already shared her longing with him. Madison didn’t think so, though.
She knew he was widowed, from the hospital grapevine. And his ring finger no longer held a wedding ring, so he’d gotten over the loss. Or had he? Some people never really got over that kind of life change.
Another thing Madison could relate to. Although her loss had nothing to do with a husband, or even a boyfriend.
Shaking herself free of her funk, she pulled the notebook from her pocket and dropped it onto her desk. She’d have to figure out a way to get a few of the things on Ivy’s list without making her dad suspicious. Or angry. He had to know how fortunate he was to have a daughter who was worried as much about him as he worried about her. She was small and so very ill, and yet her determination to do all she could to get better—for her dad’s sake—was one of the most touching things Madison had seen in a long time.
She flipped the first page open and perused the list, forcing her glance to leap over that first item. The rest of the things ranged from sweet to hilarious.
A new stethoscope—in purple, if Santa has one, because that is Ivy’s favorite color.
A book about horses so he’ll fall in love with them like she has.
An adult coloring book. One of Ivy’s nurses talked about how every grown-up should have one.
Somehow, Madison couldn’t picture those big hands clutching a crayon—although he was very much a paint-by-numbers type of person. No coloring outside the lines for him.
Macaroni and cheese. Evidently Theo’s favorite food. Santa must carry casseroles around in his toy sack.
A puppy. Ha! Wouldn’t Theo love coming home to find a puppy under the tree.
That was all they had so far on the list. Except for that very first thing. Her eyes tracked up to it against their will.
Make Daddy love Christmas.
God, even the real Santa would have a tough time granting that wish. The rest was doable. Well, maybe not the puppy. But everything else could be gotten for a relatively inexpensive price, wrapped and listed as being from Santa.
Why did she even care? She wasn’t here to buy anyone gifts. Or to make a little girl happy.
She was here to help solve difficult diagnoses. That was it. And to fulfill a lifelong dream of visiting the UK. She should be on cloud nine. Instead, she felt itchy and slightly uncomfortable, like wearing a new wool sweater without anything else beneath it.
You need to get out and see more of England. Staying around this hospital day in and day out isn’t healthy.
But there was something about Ivy...
She’d found herself spending more and more time with the little girl, almost succeeding in convincing herself it was to help figure out the child’s condition. Except she knew it was a lie. She was here for Ivy, even if being around her dad made her squirm in discomfort.
She wasn’t exactly sure why that was, but she’d better figure it out before she did something stupid. Really stupid. Like wish Ivy were hers, maybe?
She stood in a rush and clasped her hands behind her back, lifting them away from her body while bending forward at the waist, hoping the resultant stretch would help clear her head of its current thoughts. Higher and harder she stretched, vaguely aware of her door opening with a couple of light taps.
“Dr. Archer?”
Madison froze in place. Oh, Lordy. But at least the voice was female and not the man who’d jerked away from her a couple of hours earlier. How humiliating had that been? She’d just been trying to help.
Letting
