Let me talk to Dr. Navarro, and maybe he’ll have a suggestion.”
Almost against her will, Bella placed the baby back into Gabriel’s arms. “Another trained eye is always good in situations like this, so let me…”
“I’d appreciate that. But I don’t want her first few days of life to be spent under watch in a medical facility. She deserves…better from me.” There was no animosity in his voice. He wasn’t arguing the point, merely explaining it. And his voice broke with those words, causing Bella’s heart to lurch. Yet what she saw…the way he held the baby wasn’t as nurturing as she would have expected. Or as protective. Ana Maria was pulled close to his body, but it was a stiff gesture, one done more from obligation, or from textbook learning, than his natural desire to take care of this child.
Honestly, that did puzzle her. Of course, she hadn’t lived his life these past few days. Hadn’t experienced his traumas and emotions. Perhaps he was frightened of becoming too attached to his child, especially after the death of his wife. And now that his daughter was sick…yes, his stiffness was certainly understandable, but even one as young as Ana Maria sensed that and Bella feared what might come of what Ana Maria was feeling right now…her daddy’s uneasiness.
Easy, Bella. This isn’t your medical practice. The man Dr. Navarro had called Gabriel was a stranger and his daughter was not her patient. Other than a quick exam as a courtesy to a nice doctor who didn’t have a pediatrician available, she had no business getting involved in this matter. Yet Gabriel seemed so emotionally detached, she couldn’t help but speak. “You may think Ana Maria deserves better than a short stay in a hospital, and I won’t argue with you there, but she also deserves to be watched by someone who’s qualified to see complications and signs and symptoms, and I believe—”
“I appreciate your concern, but I’m physician—well, surgeon, actually,” he interrupted. “Not a pediatrician, but I have enough skills to look after a baby.”
So he was a fellow medic? Now, that was a surprise. Or maybe it wasn’t. The man she was seeing here, right this very minute, wasn’t himself. He was under an extraordinary amount of stress. But, yes, she could imagine him as a doctor, especially when she took another look at his hands…nice hands. Gentle. Smooth. They certainly looked like the hands of a surgeon. “You’re a physician under a lot of stress,” she said sympathetically. “And while I’m sure, under normal circumstances, that you’re very good at what you do, these aren’t normal circumstances, Doctor…”
“Velascos. Gabriel Velascos.”
“And I’m Arabella Burke,” she told him again. This time he was definitely paying attention. “Most people call me Bella.”
His smile turned warm for a fraction of a second. “That’s a pity. Arabella is a lovely name. It suits you, Arabella.”
His voice dropped its pitch just a fraction. Went smooth and silky, like a fine cognac. Was he actually flirting with her? His wife had been dead less than three days and he was already flirting?
It caught her off guard, shocked her. Under different circumstances she might have been flattered by it. But under these circumstances she wasn’t sure what she felt, and in response she donned her best, most professional expression. “I’d still like to have someone else observe Ana Maria for a little while, since you’re emotionally involved.” But maybe not as much as he should have been. Unfortunately, all her initial good impressions of Dr. Gabriel Velascos were starting to melt away, and now she wasn’t sure what she was feeling. Pity, for sure. And a little anger mixed in. Maybe some confusion, too. “I’ll be back in a moment, Dr. Velascos, after I’ve consulted with Dr. Navarro.”
With that, Bella escaped into the hall, all too glad to be away from the very puzzling Dr. Gabriel Velascos. All too breathless over him too, which made no sense whatsoever.
* * *
Well, he’d called it right. Thank God Ana Maria’s problem was only an intolerance to the goat’s milk, as he’d expected. That was easily fixed. And the rest of it…one step at a time. One lousy step at a time. He’d get her milk intolerance straightened out, then think about what came after that. That’s all he could do—just take care of the baby the best way he knew how.
“A baby. I have a baby.” Dear God, what was he going to do with a baby? Yesterday he’d been a man without attachments, today he had a baby. His sister’s baby. “A baby.”
Saying the words out loud, or thinking them…either way, his breath caught in his throat for an instant, threatening to asphyxiate him with the complications of what those four simple words meant—I have a baby. “A baby…Lynda’s baby. My baby.” He whispered the words reluctantly, trying them on the way he tried on a pair of new shoes—cautiously at first, to see if they fit, then, only after they did, deciding if they were comfortable enough to keep. The only thing was, if a pair of shoes didn’t fit, he always had the option of asking for another size or simply walking away from the store empty-handed. But with this baby—Ana Maria—no matter how much she didn’t fit his lifestyle, and there was definitely no give in there for her whatsoever, he couldn’t just send her back and ask for another size, or walk away altogether. Lynda had been so excited to have a child…she’d cherished her pregnancy, lived for the moment she gave birth. So many times over the months she’d told him how being a mother was her destiny, so how could he walk away from that? How could he walk away from what had meant the world to her? And from his own flesh and blood?
He couldn’t. That was his answer, and also his problem. Ana Maria’s father had walked away, but he couldn’t. “My baby,” he said one more time, hoping that by saying the words they would somehow bring about a magical change in his dilemma…like Lynda really being alive, or Hector having a change of heart and welcoming his new baby girl into his family after all.
Neither of those things were going to happen, though. Practicality was one of the traits he counted on most when nothing else worked, and, being the practical man he considered himself to be, he couldn’t see anything else working here. No miracles. No flights of fancy or fantasy. He had a baby now. And nothing changed the fact that those simple words were causing his stomach to churn, his head to pound, his whole world to spin, and his destiny to be cast into directions he’d never looked forward to for himself. Not like this, anyway.
His baby, maybe. But what the hell was he going to do about it?
“We’ll get it figured out,” he whispered to Ana Maria. He didn’t look at her, though. Not too closely. For now it was best to keep her at a distance. Protect her, care for her, but keep the emotional attachment under check until he could figure out what to do. “Whatever happens, Ana Maria, I promise that no matter what I do, it will be in your best interests. You deserve better than what you’ve had so far, and I’ll make sure you get it.” It was a promise he took to heart, and one he didn’t know how to fulfill.
Finally chancing a quick glimpse of the baby in his arms, Gabriel caught her looking up at him, her big eyes full of…was that trust? No, babies that age didn’t trust. They couldn’t even focus. For the most part they merely existed, and responded to their environment. The way Ana Maria was looking at him right now was only a response, probably to his voice. She wasn’t used to hearing a man’s voice, that’s all. But when he risked another quick look to confirm his diagnosis… damn it, he was positive he saw trust again. “Don’t do that,” he warned. “Not with me, because it won’t work, Ana Maria. You can look at me that way all you want, but it’s not going to work.”
Her eyes were so beautiful, though. As beautiful as Arabella’s eyes which, he thought, had been
