I Do! I Do!. Jacqueline Diamond
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Gina walked alongside the sweeping front driveway that led to the Maitland Maternity Clinic. After graduating from nursing school at the University of Texas here in Austin, she was lucky to have landed a job at the modern, family-run facility that served rich and poor women alike.
In her half-dozen years on the staff, she’d come to think of the clinic as home. She always looked forward to coming to work each day, more than ever in the two months since Mason and his little nieces had become fixtures in the nursery.
He hadn’t arrived yet this morning, she saw. Usually, his extended pickup truck with a covered bed loomed over the other vehicles in the parking lot. Still, he might pull in at any minute.
Heading for the employee entrance, she hurried inside to tuck her purse into her locker. In the corridor, she was about to dodge by Ford Carrington, the clinic’s pediatric surgeon, when he said, “Miss Kennedy? Could I speak with you a moment?”
Although he was handsome, with a reputation as a playboy, Gina knew him as a dedicated doctor, one who rarely had occasion to speak to her. “Yes, Doctor?” she said.
“I wanted to say I think you’ve done a superb job with the Blackstone twins.” Ford paused as if mentally reviewing the case. “Daisy’s made a much faster recovery from her hernia operation than I expected. From what Katie Toper says, your TLC has helped compensate for the tragic loss of their mother.”
“Their uncle’s the one who deserves the credit.” Gina didn’t believe she deserved praise for doing what came naturally, although she appreciated the good word from Katie, a fellow nurse who often assisted Dr. Carrington. “Besides, there’s something special about those girls.”
“Don’t sell yourself short, Gina,” he said. “You’ve helped give those little girls a fine start in life.”
“Thanks, Dr. Carrington.” It was almost seven, and after he turned away, she had to hurry to reach the nursery on time. It was worth it, though, to receive praise from a man she respected so highly.
For the last three years, Gina had been assigned to the intensive and intermediate-care nurseries. Due to the low staff-to-patient ratio, she had time to grow attached to her little charges, but none had affected her as much as Daisy and her twin sister, Lily.
Maybe it was the fact that their father had died in a car crash before they were born, and their mother had succumbed to her injuries less than a day after giving birth. Maybe it was because the little girls, struggling for life despite their fragility, reminded Gina in some ways of herself.
They seemed like the daughters she’d hoped someday to have but perhaps never would. Her future was a growing concern as she neared her thirtieth birthday, less than a month away, without a boyfriend in sight.
Gina pushed aside personal concerns as she entered the staff area of the nursery. Katie was already there, updating charts from the night shift.
“How is everything?” Gina asked.
“Quiet.” Her friend smiled. “Thank goodness. The Lopez girl is going home today and the Simmons boy’s temperature is back to normal.”
“By the way, thanks for putting in the good word with Dr. Carrington,” Gina said when Katie finished.
“He spoke to you?” The other nurse waited, as if hoping for more.
“He complimented me on showing affection to Daisy and Lily. It would have been hard not to!”
“How did he look?” Katie probed. “He didn’t get enough sleep night before last. Did you notice any dark circles under his eyes?”
“He looked perfect. As always.”
Katie sighed. It was well known among the nurses that she had a long-standing crush on the surgeon. His chosen companions, however, were stunning model types, not down-to-earth nurses.
Gina couldn’t help but sympathize. Not that she had a crush on Mason Blackstone. She was too practical, she told herself firmly.
Besides being her opposite in many ways, he’d never even hinted at wanting a relationship. So soon after the deaths of his brother and sister-in-law, it was unlikely he thought of her as anything more than a caretaker for his nieces.
After she pinned back her hair, scrubbed and put on a sterile gown, Gina went into the nursery. She was assigned to four patients, including Lily and Daisy.
“Good morning.” She smiled down at Daisy. “Let’s check those bandages and weigh you, shall we?”
The next half hour passed quickly, taken up with checking medications, weighing, feeding and changing all four babies. Matters were complicated by the fact that, before being handled, they had to be detached from monitors that warned if their respiration or heartbeat ran too low or too high.
As she fed Lily, Gina regarded a small bare patch on the baby’s crown, where, like Daisy, she’d been fed intravenously during her first few weeks. It seemed a shame that the girls’ earliest photos would be marred. Still, it was a minor flaw, and the hair would grow out quickly.
“You won’t even remember it by prom night,” she assured the baby.
“What won’t she remember by prom night?”
The baritone voice startled her out of her reverie. How had Mason heard her, all the way across the room?
“I was teasing her about her bald spot.” Gina tried to sound normal, although, as usual, Mason made her breath come faster.
Against the pastel decor of the nursery, he loomed large. The brawny chest and shoulders were developed as only a cowboy’s could be, strong enough to rope a calf or dig a post hole. As he reached to put on a sterile gown, she glimpsed a yoked shirt tucked into jeans, a leather belt dominated by a Mexican silver buckle, and a pair of polished dress boots.
He removed his Stetson and set it aside, crown side down. Thick black hair, a testament to his Native American heritage, sprang up defiantly.
Gina drank in every inch of his appearance. Soon, he and these precious babies would vanish from her life. Not too soon, though, she hoped.
“You’re already planning their senior prom?” Mason gave her a rueful smile as he crossed the nursery. “I can hardly think beyond how often to feed them and how many diapers to buy!”
She finished feeding Lily, noted how many ounces she had taken, then rolled the baby onto her stomach to burp her. At scarcely four and a half pounds each, the babies were still a bit fragile to hold against the shoulder.
“You’ll do fine,” she said. “Also, didn’t you say your housekeeper has experience with babies?”
“Bonita can manage, but she isn’t an expert like you.” He offered a finger to his niece, who gummed it happily. “May I take her?”
“Of course.” As Gina guided the tiny baby into his grasp, their hands touched. The brief contact sent heat