"Corrigan did what?" Rose Rogers couldn't believe her ears.
"Dr. Corrigan admitted the boy at six last night. A social worker brought him to Emergency, the E.R. doc called Corrigan he wrote the orders." The nurse in charge handed over the paperwork, and Rose scanned it quickly, swearing under her breath.
She'd been in a terrific mood till now. Her son, Jeremy, was spending the month of July at a summer camp, so she had her condo all to herself. It was the Friday before a long weekend. Life was good.
Until now. Rose scanned the chart. Dexter Barnes, aged 10, attention deficit disorder, no illness, no injury, close observation, continue meds routine, restricted to unit. Good luck.
"Corrigan actually wrote good luck on here?" Fuming, she flung the chart down. "What exactly does he think he's doing admitting this boy on Peds?"
The other nurse shrugged. "Dexter's too young for the psych unit. My guess is Corrigan didn't know what else to do with him. Apparently the kid burned down the garage at the foster home where he was staying, and the foster parents said they'd had enough. The social worker has no respite home for him, so she brought him to Emerg. He almost wrecked the place while he was down there. That kid is a demon, he's really bad. He flooded the bathroom and deleted a ton of files from the computer. And that's only the stuff we found out about. Lord only knows what else he got up to. He slept maybe three hours and spent the rest of the night getting into trouble."
"He's not bad, he's A.D.D.," Rose flared. "That's what A.D.D. kids are like. I've got one I know."
"Sorry, Rose."
"Hey, no problem. I just get defensive is all."
Defensive and disheartened. She felt her perfect morning heading south, and with it went tranquillity. She'd come to terms with her single state. She was resigned to the fact that at 30, her life was and would be her son and her work.
Getting dumped by Jeremy's father had been tough, but having the second guy she'd fallen for also tell her he couldn't cope with her son had almost done her in. The fact that he was a doctor made it worse; she'd thought that he'd have more compassion for Jeremy, but she'd been wrong. They'd spent more time fighting over Jeremy than they'd spent making love.
And now, 10 minutes into her shift, she was going to have to fight with Fergus Corrigan over this kid with A.D.D. Dexter simply could not stay on the unit over the long weekend. They were short-staffed; nobody wanted to come in on the long weekend. She had to protect the other kids, and Dexter himself.
Rose sighed. "Where's Dexter now?"
"He's in the playroom. We found him a computer game. The new aide, Kelly, is keeping an eye on him. Trouble is, with every bed full we can't spare someone just to baby-sit one boy."
Rose nodded agreement. "I'll have a word with Corrigan the moment he arrives on rounds."
The other nurse left, and Rose busied herself with paperwork. As nurse manager on Pediatrics, she figured she had about the best job at St. Joseph's Medical Center. She adored kids, she knew how to make even the sickest of them smile, she had good management skills, and she had a great staff. She got along famously with most of the docs, with the notable exception of Fergus Corrigan.
New to Vancouver, he'd moved from some little town six months before, and from the moment she'd first laid eyes on him, Rose wished he'd never left wherever it was he came from. The hospital grapevine, trumpeting the news that the new pediatrician was 34 and single, hadn't prepared her for the fact that he was drop-dead handsome.
When they first met, Rose took one look at his mass of unruly black curls and the mischievous sparkle in his royal-blue eyes, and she knew this was a man she needed to find a reason to dislike fast, before her traitorous heart turned to mush. He made the backs of her knees sweat. Usually proud of her composure, she became flustered around him, and that made her furious.
Fortunately, her temper worked to her advantage. After Fergus overheard Rose talking with some other nurses about the alternative methods of treatment of A.D.D. that had been so successful with Jeremy, he lectured Rose on "proper" treatment of kids with A.D.D.
Rose exploded. She let him know what she thought, that the traditional medical mode might work for some kids, but for others, there were nonmedical treatments that worked a whole lot better. They'd had a heated argument and hadn't spoken since.
And they were about to have another fight. She saw him ambling toward the nursing station, took a deep breath, and drew herself up to her full height, which was still eight inches below the riotous curls at the crown of his head.
"Dr. Corrigan, can I have a word with you?"
He rubbed a hand through his hair, messing it even more. Why did the man always have to look as if he just got out of bed? Why did she always feel she wanted to join him there?
"Absolutely, Rose. I'm all yours."
That damned wide-open smile of his was so misleading. And so were his deep, slow voice and his choice of words. Get a grip, Rogers, she mentally chided herself.
"Dexter Barnes absolutely cannot stay on this ward, Doctor."
"But Rose, I thought you and your nurses could handle him. Aren't you an expert on A.D.D.?" His tone was teasing.
The nerve of him. Rose struggled to control her temper.
"Ms. Rogers? Oh, Ms. Rogers "
Kelly, the new nursing aide, came running toward them. The woman's voice was trembling.
"Ms. Rogers, that boy, Dexter Barnes I turned my back for a single minute and he disappeared. We've searched everywhere for him, but he's not on the ward. And Ms. Rogers? My name tag is gone. It was clipped to my pocket, but it's gone."
Pediatrics was a locked ward. The only way in or out was to swipe the lock with the back of a name tag.
Dexter was loose in the hospital. There were a million ways for him to create havoc. And two million ways for him to hurt himself.
Rose felt the blood drain from her face.
Fergus's temper flared. "Damn it, Rose, the reason I admitted Dexter was because I thought he'd be safe. I can't believe you've lost my patient." He scowled at her, but when he saw the way her face paled, his anger turned to sympathy.
"Hey, don't look like that. You'll find him." Fergus sounded a lot more confident than he felt, but Rose needed reassurance. He'd never seen her look scared before.
He enjoyed teasing her, even riling her up, but right now he just felt guilty for putting her in this predicament. She was sexy as hell, and she was also the most interesting woman he'd met since he moved to Vancouver. He'd never intended to cause her real trouble. He'd just run flat out of ideas about what to do with Dexter Barnes.
"Kelly, call Security. There are so many things he can get into," Rose said. Her voice was trembling. "Sharps containers, med carts, monitoring equipment and what if he gets out of the hospital?"
"He won't," Fergus assured her. "Security will block the exits. You've got a son with A.D.D., Rose. What would appeal to him?"
She frowned. "Electronics. Food, maybe. Dexter's wearing pajamas somebody's sure to see him. I'm going to look." She raced off toward the door that led to the hallway.
This was a nursing problem, Fergus reminded himself, admiring the way her rounded bottom twitched. Doctors didn't go looking for lost kids. It wasn't their job. But this little kid had nobody to care about him nobody except his doctor.
He had to run to catch up with her. She was already at the end of the hall, in front of the elevators. All three were open, and empty.
"Dexter," Fergus concluded. "He's jammed them with the stop buttons."
"But where did he go?"
"Down the stairs," Fergus guessed. "There's the courtyard, and the play area "
The doorway to the stairs burst open just as they reached it. A security guard, seriously overweight and scarlet in the face, panted, "Somebody's jammed the elevators. You the ones who lost the kid?"
"Did you see him on the stairs? Did you check the play area?" Rose's voice, usually low and husky, squeaked into the upper registers.
"Not there. We checked." His portable beeped. He listened and then announced, "They've got your kid up on seven, in Information Systems. They'll keep him until you get there."
"Oh, thank God." Rose made it sound like a prayer, and Fergus silently seconded it.
In the elevator, Rose scowled up at him, her dark brown eyes filled with sparks and the remnants of fear. "This could have been a tragedy, and it's all your fault, Doctor. That child doesn't belong in the hospital and you know it."
"I know." Fergus felt humbled. "I just don't know what else to do with the boy."
With Rose, he knew. He'd known the first time she argued with him. He loved the way her eyes crinkled and her chin tilted up when she got mad, but this was the first time he'd seen her vulnerable. He'd often thought of kissing away her anger. He couldn't resist the softness he now glimpsed underneath it.
He'd never had the opportunity before; they were seldom alone. There was every possibility she'd charge him with sexual harassment, but he leaned over and kissed her anyway.
The kiss went straight to her belly. Heat and desire struggled with common sense and what should have been outrage. Desire won. She was kissing him back when the elevator stopped.
He winked and grinned down at her as the door opened, as if he knew he'd made her toes curl inside her comfortable shoes, and now she wanted to smack him. But Information Systems was behind a glass wall right across the corridor, and anyone could see them.
Her damned knees were trembling. She tottered out and down the hall to the door, Fergus trailing behind her like all her resolutions about men.
The place was full of men and computers, but it was a woman who stood beside the machine where the small wiry boy in blue pajamas sat tapping the keys. He glanced up and grinned, square face alight with pleasure when he spotted Fergus.
"Hey, Doctor Fergus, I was just sendin' you an email."
"Hiya, Dexter." Fergus ruffled the boy's spiky brown hair. "What is it you want to tell me?"
Rose caught the tenderness and very real affection in Fergus's voice, and it touched her.
"I don't like it in the hospital, Doc. I heard the nurse say they're tryin' to send everybody home for the long weekend, so can I go home with you?"
"We'll talk that over, Dexter." Fergus glanced at Rose. "This is my friend, Rose Rogers. I'll bet she can find us some cookies and maybe ice cream to go with them, right, Rose?"
"Absolutely. But you'll both have to come back to Pediatrics with me."
Dexter shook his head. "Nope. They got way better computers here."
Fergus shot Rose a helpless look.
This was familiar territory to her. Bribery didn't work with Jeremy either. Only the absolute truth and an appeal to intelligence and reason sufficed.
"That's true, Dexter," she agreed. "The computers here are superior to the ones we have downstairs. But they don't allow kids up here."
"That's right." The young woman standing beside them nodded agreement. "This is an adults-only zone, Dexter. Sorry."
He thought it over. "Can I come back when I'm 16?"
"You sure can."
"Okay." He got up and took the hand that Fergus extended.
In the elevator, he pushed the button for the third floor and then turned to Fergus.
"Now let's talk about me going home with you, Doctor Fergus."
Fergus looked uncomfortable. "Well, Dexter, I don't think that's a very good idea. See, I live by myself, and I've got no kids "
But Rose had been thinking it over. Dexter himself had found the perfect solution.
She purred, "Oh, but I think it's an excellent idea. We'll go back to the ward, Dexter, and I'll let you use our very best computer. It's the one the doctors use. And as soon as Doctor Fergus is done for the day, I'll bet he'll come and take you home with him for the weekend. Right, Doctor?"
The stunned expression on Fergus's face made her want to giggle. But when Rose looked at Dexter, the transparent longing and hope in his eyes almost broke her heart.
Fergus waited until Dexter was settled at the computer to tackle Rose.
"Since when do doctors take their patients home with them?"
"When they're little kids who've slipped through the cracks and haven't anywhere else to go." Her brown eyes were hot and accusing. "Would it kill you to spend a weekend making a 10-year-old happy?"
She knew exactly how to push his buttons. He'd seen the way Dexter's square face split into an ecstatic grin when Rose promised that Fergus would take him home. He couldn't let the kid down now; she knew that. But a wicked, wonderful idea was taking form, and Fergus could hardly keep from grinning himself.
"Okay, Rose, I'll do it, on one condition."
She looked smug for an instant, and then wary. "What's that?"
"You come, too. I know you're off duty, I checked the board."
Her jaw dropped. "Are you nuts? I have plans for the weekend."
"I did, too, before you rearranged them." He saw the mutinous expression on her face and held up a hand. "Fair's fair, Rose. You got me into this, you're the self-proclaimed expert on kids with A.D.D. I admit I don't have the foggiest clue how to deal with Dexter full-time. The idea scares me witless. I need your help if I'm gonna do this."
He saw the uncertain glance she shot his way and the ripe color that flared in her cheeks and guessed what she was thinking.
"Hey, nothing X-rated." He should be so lucky. "There's plenty of room. The house has three bedrooms. I'll do the cooking." His culinary skills pretty much ran to barbecue and takeout, but he could manage toast and eggs.
She was wavering. She looked over at Dexter and then back at Fergus.
"Please, Rose?" He didn't feel any guilt at begging or at having ulterior motives. The kiss in the elevator had unnerved him. It had also made him want more. He needed to get to know her better, and this was the perfect opportunity. "For Dexter's sake." The plea was shameful, but he had to use whatever was available.
"Okay, Fergus, but only for Dexter's sake. Where do you live?"
He felt like giving a victorious whoop, but he controlled himself and wrote down his address instead. "Bring your swimming suit there's a pool."
It was five in the afternoon by the time Rose pulled into the driveway of a pretty bungalow on a quiet west-side street. She'd always imagined Fergus in a high-rise bachelor suite, complete with Jacuzzi, black satin sheets, and nymphets. The house surprised her. Unless he had a gardener, he liked growing roses. The only thing that matched her preconceptions was the red BMW convertible in the open garage.
She could hear a dog barking and water splashing. Carrying her small overnight bag, she made her way to the backyard. A huge shaggy wet mongrel came galumphing over, barking and wagging his tail, and she stooped to pat him, laughing when he shook water all over her.
"Barney, you hopeless idiot, go away," Fergus said to the dog. "Rose, welcome." He held out a hand and she took it, ridiculously aware of his warm, hard palm against her soft skin. Fergus was wearing yellow boxer swim trunks and an unbuttoned Hawaiian shirt, and she tried not to look at the mat of hair on his broad chest or the way his torso slimmed to narrow hips. He had long, well-shaped legs and huge bare feet.
"I'm just firing up the barbecue. I hope you like burgers?"
"Love them." A little of her initial nervousness faded. Maybe she could keep this on an impersonal level after all, if she concentrated hard. If she didn't let this handshake go on all night.
She pulled her hand away as Dexter came racing over. He'd been swimming in the kidney-shaped pool, and he was vibrating with excitement.
"Hey, Rose, Doc Fergus has this real cool computer, and a wide-screen TV, and a racing bike. And did ya see the BMW?" He whistled through his teeth. "That baby's a whole other story." The dog nudged him. "This is Barney he's a mixed breed. Watch this, Rose." He took off at high speed and did a cannonball into the deep end of the pool, and the dog mimicked him.
Rose applauded.
"Thank God you're here." There was a note of desperation in Fergus's quiet voice that made her smile.
"Sounds like you're already a little frazzled, Doctor."
He gave her a rueful grin. "More than a little. I took Dexter to the supermarket. You know those automatic change things? Well, apparently he's fascinated with money, and the clerk misunderstood when he scooped up the change from four different aisles. He's fast as mercury, and just as slippery. I convinced her not to call the manager, but I can't shop there again. And when we got home he hit the pool at a dead run, fully clothed. I did, too. I didn't know he could swim. Barney joined us, damned near drowned us both. And somehow in all that, I've lost the keys to the car, along with the garage door opener."
It wasn't fair to laugh, but she couldn't help it. "Sounds like just another day with my son."
"You have my respect and admiration." The words held not a trace of sarcasm. "Maybe you can explain how you do it. Right now, come with me and I'll show you your room." He took her bag and led the way.
The bedroom was at the front of the house, bright and clean, but devoid of anything a woman might have added, like plants and curtains. He set her bag on the bed, and when he turned she saw by the vulnerable look on his face that he, too, was aware of the intimacy of the situation, the electricity that arced between them.
"Rose." His voice was deep and gruff. "About that kiss today in the elevator." He was looking into her eyes.
"What about it?" She could feel her face burning. She couldn't hold his gaze; it was too intense. She looked past him, out the uncurtained window.
"I want " he began, but her cry of alarm interrupted what he'd been about to say.
"Look."
Fergus turned and looked out the window, and his jaw dropped at what he saw.
"Good god, he's driving my car!" The horror in Fergus's voice echoed what Rose was feeling as she watched the red BMW inch slowly out of the driveway with Dexter at the wheel and Barney sitting tall in the passenger seat.
"Dexter!" At a dead run, Fergus tore out of the house with Rose right behind him. He catapulted down the walk just as the car negotiated a shaky right turn into the street and began to accelerate in short, jerky bursts.
"Dexter, brake, use the brake," Fergus bellowed as he raced along the road, trying to overtake the convertible. It was picking up speed at an alarming rate.
Pounding along behind, Rose was praying hard. She knew it was only a matter of blocks before the quiet street became a main thoroughfare. Dexter couldn't possibly manage in traffic. Please, God, she prayed, don't let there be a terrible accident.
She had a stitch in her side, and just as she was forced to slow, she heard Fergus holler, "Dexter, slow down, you're going to hit that van "
A resounding crash and the screech of grating metal sent Rose pelting down the sidewalk again. The BMW had smashed into a gray van parked at the curb. The front right fender and hood of the sports car were crumpled, the back of the van badly dented. By the time Rose reached the scene, Barney had already leaped out of the car and was running in circles, alternately barking and whining. Neighbors were pouring out of their houses.
People spoke in excited voices, and the owner of the van was calling 911 on a cell phone, but all Rose could hear was Dexter sobbing. Terror brought a coppery taste to her mouth. Fergus was kneeling beside the open door of the car, conducting a quick and thorough examination of the frightened boy.
"Is he " Rose wanted to help, but there was no room.
"I think he's okay," Fergus said. His voice was cool and professional, his skilled hands quick and gentle, but Rose could see the tension in the line of his jaw, the tendons standing out in his neck.
"I'm sorry, Doc Fergus, I'm sorry " Dexter's face was ashen, and sobs made him hiccup. "I'm okay, honest, I don't hurt anywhere, I didn't hit my head. Check Barney, he fell off the seat."
And Fergus was doing exactly that when the fire truck and the police arrived.
For a period of time, controlled chaos reined.
When the firemen were certain there were no injuries, they popped the hood of the BMW with a crowbar and disconnected the battery because of the faint chance of fire, a procedure that Fergus could barely stand to watch. After years of craving, he'd bought the sleek little car just three months before, and watching the tow truck drag it away gave him a sick feeling in his gut.
Having the police grill him as to why Dexter had access to the keys was humiliating, and it was long past dusk by the time the two constables finally had all the proper forms completed.
Rose had taken Dexter back to the house earlier, and by the time Fergus got there he was certain of two things. He wasn't a drinking man, but tonight he needed liquor. And he'd be grateful if he didn't have to lay eyes on Dexter, preferably ever again, but certainly not tonight. At first, he'd been terrified that the boy was injured, but when he realized Dexter was fine, fury had taken the place of concern. The kid had wrecked his car. Fergus wasn't certain he'd be able to control his temper if he had to confront Dexter now.
The house was quiet and, at first glance, empty, but Rose's car was still parked in front, and he found her in the back yard, slumped in a lawn chair, head back, eyes closed.
"Rose." He was still very angry, but there was comfort in having her there.
She looked up at him, and in the soft lights from the pool he could see the uncertainty in her brown eyes. "I put Dexter to bed." Her voice was soft and weary. "The dog's sleeping with him. I fed them both, the barbecue's still hot if you're hungry."
"Later. Would you like a drink?"
She looked at him for a long moment before she nodded. "That would be good. A glass of the white wine you have in the fridge, please."
He poured her wine and made himself a Scotch, a stiff one. Outside, he pulled a lawn chair close to hers and sank into it.
She took a sip of her wine and gave him a sidelong glance. "Is there much damage to your car?"
"It'll never be the same again." He blew out a frustrated breath. "Until today I could never understand anyone yelling at a kid, but so help me " He shook his head and took a long slug of Scotch.
"I know the feeling well. My son once disconnected all the wires in my ignition system. It cost the earth to have it fixed. I felt like spanking him."
He was finally able to smile at her a little. "But you didn't."
"Nope. I sat him down and told him that having ADD was no excuse for bad behavior, and I asked him what he thought a suitable punishment should be."
Her dimples flashed, and somewhere deep inside Fergus, lust replaced anger. She was so damned sexy.
"And?"
"He said he'd wash the car for me for a year, but he also thought he should learn about ignition systems. The mechanic who fixed the car volunteered to show him in return for a few home cooked dinners."
A stab of what could only be jealousy shot through him. His voice was gruff. "I never got around to asking if you're seeing anyone."
She laughed. "You mean the mechanic? Her name was Amanda. As for the male species, the answer is no."
Relief made him bold. He reached across and trapped her long fingered hand in his. "I'm glad."
She didn't pull away. Instead she took another sip of the wine and her voice hardened.
She turned and looked straight into his eyes, challenging him.
"Would you choose to be around a kid like Dexter full time, Fergus? Because he and Jeremy are a lot alike."
There had been moments in Fergus's life when a single decision determined his future.
He'd gone into medicine instead of law. He'd chosen pediatrics over obstetrics. He'd agonized over the choices, but those decisions now seemed easy compared to the question Rose had just asked him.
Could he be around a kid like Dexter full-time? Her hand was in his, and he readjusted his grip, so that her fingers and his were intertwined.
"By myself, I know I couldn't do it," he admitted. "But if you were part of the package, Rose, I'd be willing to try. It would be tough, but I'd give it my best shot."
He could tell from the surprise on her face that it wasn't the answer she'd expected, and he watched surprise turn to dismissal.
"You'd put us on trial, and when the going got rough, you'd walk," she accused. "I've been through that before. I'm not about to try it again." She tried to pull her hand away, but he wouldn't let her.
"Do you always decide the future on the basis of the past? Because that doesn't allow for anything new, Rose. Where's that courage I've always admired in you?"
Her chin shot up. "Are you accusing me of being a coward?"
"Not if you're willing to give me a chance. I'd like to try, Rose."
He waited, but she didn't answer. Frustrated, he got up and pulled her to her feet. He drew her into his embrace, relieved when she didn't pull away. Sexual tension smoldered to life, and he heard the sudden catch in her breathing.
"Remember that kiss in the elevator?" He tipped her chin up and lowered his head, taking his time. Her lips parted under his, and his heart gave a mighty thump when she leaned into him.
His kiss warmed her for an instant, and then it burned. Raw need uncurled in the pit of her stomach. She'd been alone too long, but the old hurts carved deep into her heart didn't allow for trust, no matter how convincing his words.
So forget about long term, a desperate voice inside her urged. Take the passion and run with it. Grab these few days and nights and enjoy them. There doesn't have to be a future.
She slid her hands up into his thick, soft hair and gasped as his lips traveled from her mouth to her earlobe, along the line of her jaw, down the arch of her neck. His strong hands cupped her aching breasts, traced the curve of waist and hips, and the liquid heat in her belly grew incandescent in the instant before he stepped back.
"I'm going to curse myself for every kind of a fool, Rose. I am already." The gravelly tension in his voice and the uneven cadence of his breathing told her what the action cost him. "I need to know what your answer is before I can take you to my bed. See, I'm not interested in just a one-night stand with you."
Damn the man. How dare he turn the tables on her, demand a commitment she wasn't able to give? Every soft place in her body cried out for him, but she couldn't lie, not to him or to herself. Unable to speak, she shook her head, avoiding his eyes. Desolate, she turned toward the house and her empty bedroom.
"Wait." He was beside her again, but he didn't touch her. "Sit down and talk to me, please. At least we can be friends." There was touching humility in his voice. "I'm not going to be able to sleep for a while, are you?"
The idea was laughable. Every nerve ending was on fire. Still mute, she shook her head again.
"I bought some of that herbal tea you drink at the hospital. I'll boil the kettle."
The few moments he was gone gave her a chance to steady her breathing, but she was glad of the darkness when he handed her a steaming mug and sank into the chair next to hers. She was afraid her face would reveal the tangled, conflicting emotions she couldn't seem to contain or control.
"Please tell me about your son."
"Why?" At work, when she'd talked about Jeremy, Fergus had been critical of the choices she'd made regarding medication. She couldn't get into another argument with him now. She felt emotionally bereft, as if she might burst into tears at the slightest provocation.
"One single afternoon with Dexter has been a humbling experience for me." Fergus sighed. "I made sure he took his medication, but it's obvious that Ritalin doesn't always work the way I thought it did. I want to know about alternatives. Tell me what it's been like for you having a son with A.D.D. How did you first recognize the problem?"
His honest interest calmed her, helped her to relax a little.
"It took a long time to admit that Jeremy was different," she began. "As an infant, he didn't like to be held or cuddled. He was verbal at a really early age, talking in sentences by the time he was 18 months, but he was almost impossible to control.
"By the time I'd cleaned the Play-Doh out of the vacuum hose, he'd have the goldfish in the bathroom sink seeing if they could swim in my bubble bath. When it came time for kindergarten, he couldn't adjust. He was labeled hyperactive and by grade one, diagnosed A.D.D. and put on Ritalin. It helped calm him down in school, but at home he was a holy terror.
"His father left us that year."
"Because of Jeremy?" Fergus's voice was filled with compassion.
"Pretty much. Greg was a strict disciplinarian. We fought all the time about how to handle Jeremy. Kids with A.D.D. don't respond well to autocratic rules."
"Does he see Jeremy at all?"
Rose shook her head. "Never. It was actually easier after he left us, because I could try different approaches and get Jeremy involved in his own treatments. It's his body, he knows what works and what doesn't."
She went on to describe the dietary supplements that had helped, and the alternative treatments such as biofeedback and neuromuscular integration that had resulted in remarkable behavioral changes.
"He sounds like a smart kid. He's lucky to have you for a mother."
"Thank you." She sighed and took a sip of her tea. It was gratifying to have Fergus compliment her. She told herself she was relieved now that he'd stopped them before things had gone any further.
"So what's he gonna think when he grows up and realizes you gave up your life for him, Rose?"
The words were like bullets aimed straight at her heart, and she gasped at their cruelty.
In the same quiet, remorseless voice, Fergus went on, "How's Jeremy gonna feel when he figures out how you used him to keep yourself from taking a chance on love?"
"How dare you accuse me of of hiding behind my son?" Rose was furious, but most of all, she felt betrayed. She'd believed Fergus when he said he wanted to hear about Jeremy. She'd fallen into a cruel trap by opening up to him. "What gives you the right to psychoanalyze me? You " her voice trembled, and the tears she'd been holding back filled her eyes and her throat. "You're not my doctor."
"No, but I want to be your friend and more, and I can't get past the walls you've built to protect yourself from me." In one fluid motion, he was out of his chair and beside hers. He tried to take her hand but she snatched it away, using her palms to swipe at the tears rolling down her cheeks.
"Ahh, Rose, please don't cry." He pulled a crumpled tissue from the pocket of his shorts and gave it to her. "I'm not deliberately trying to hurt you. God knows that's the last thing I want to do. But I see you doing exactly what I've done myself, and it's such a bloody waste of time and energy. And passion, Rose. It's one hell of a waste of passion."
His tone was vehement, and through her tears she saw the desolation in his eyes. She wanted to get up and run far away from him. She would in just a moment, but first the pain so clearly etched on his face compelled her to hear what he was about to say.
"I was married once." His tone was flat and matter-of-fact. "She was my high school sweetheart. I adored her. There'd never been anyone else for either of us. I was driving to work one morning she was with me. There was an accident, a truck broadsided the car. She died at the scene. She was two months pregnant with our baby." He looked into Rose's eyes and held her gaze. "For years, I wouldn't let anyone get close to me, man or woman. It was lonely, but I swore I'd never get hurt that much again. I told myself I was being faithful to my wife's memory, but I was just using her as a shield."
Rose knew about hurt, about loneliness. She'd filled the empty spaces in her life with her son and his urgent needs. What was so bad about that? Fergus had no children, he didn't know the first thing about parenting....
"It was a patient," he went on, "a little girl, who made me understand how wrong it is to use a loved one as an excuse to hide from emotional involvement. Her mother gave up her marriage, her career, and all but abandoned her other children to care for this kid. And one day the girl told me how miserable, how responsible, how mad, that made her feel. It was like a lightbulb going on, because I saw I'd been doing the same thing, just in a different fashion."
Was that what she was doing? Against her will, Rose remembered Jeremy asking when she was going to find him a stepfather. She'd laughed and hugged him. All I need is another guy around here to take care of, she'd said. But what if her son was really saying he needed someone to help shoulder the burden of caring for her?
Going off to camp, he'd asked repeatedly if she was going to be okay on her own. She'd been touched, but now this damned man was forcing her to see her son's concern another way. She didn't want to, but she couldn't ignore the truth.
.Fergus crouched beside her. He put one knee down on the grass, and leaned an elbow on the other.
He had such good, strong legs. Well-shaped legs. Sexy legs.
"I've dated a fair bit since I smartened up, lots of really nice women, but there's never been the chemistry that's between us."
He was right about chemistry. Right now she yearned to touch his hair, to feel his arms around her. God help her, she even loved the way he smelled a little sweaty, a lot Fergus.
"I'd like a chance to get to know Jeremy. I'd like to court you, Rose. But if the answer's still no, I won't ask again." His smile was rueful. "A guy can only take so much rejection. So what's the verdict?"
Fear nearly choked her, but longing made her tremble. He was offering everything she'd stopped dreaming was possible. She pressed a hand to her chest, in a spot that suddenly ached. He'd mentioned courage, but he couldn't know how much it took to even consider saying yes.
"Holy cow!" Dexter's voice made them both jump. He was standing just outside the deck door, wearing green pajamas that he'd long since outgrown. "Doc Fergus, you askin' Rose to marry you? I saw a guy do that on TV, on his knees like that. Why do you hafta get down on your knees to do it?"
As he got to his feet, Fergus let out a sound that was pure exasperation. "Dexter, what are you doing out of bed? It's almost midnight."
"I woke up and couldn't go back to sleep. And then I heard you guys out here, so I thought I'd come and tell you I was really sorry about your car, Doc Fergus. Soon as I grow up and get rich, I'll buy you another one, I promise."
"You'll have to do a lot better than that." Fergus's voice was stern, and Rose was suddenly on edge. Whatever happened now with Dexter would be a good indication of how Fergus would react to Jeremy.
"That car was expensive, and what you did was irresponsible. Don't you think you should help come up with the money to repair it?"
Rose shot Fergus an incredulous look. Dexter did, too.
"Yeah, I guess, but I'm just a little kid." Dexter's voice trembled. "How could I ever get enough money to fix a car like that?"
"You could work it off." Fergus still sounded stern. "Can you do a job, and do it properly, if you're shown how?"
"I helped a guy build a fence once. I did okay. Except for painting I spilled some."
Rose wanted to smile, but she held back, wondering where Fergus was going with this.
"There's a lot of work to be done on this house. The deck's rotting, the steps need rebuilding. I could use a helper."
"Would I live here?"
The longing in Dexter's voice hurt Rose's heart.
"No, Dexter." Fergus's voice softened. "I'm a single guy, and you need a foster home with two parents. But wherever you are, I'll come and get you one day a week, every week, and you'll have to give me your solemn word that you'll follow orders."
"I'll do it, Doc Fergus. I'll follow orders. It'll take me a long time to earn that much money, right?" Rose couldn't miss the excitement in Dexter's voice.
"Years, probably. Go to bed now, and we'll discuss it in the morning."
"Years." Dexter made it sound like a prayer. "Years." Rose heard him repeat it over and over as he headed for bed.
Slowly, she got to her feet. She took one hesitant step before Fergus's arms reached out and enfolded her. She murmured, "Two of them are going to be a challenge. It's going to take patience, and humor, and perseverance "
"And love. Lots and lots of love." Fergus whispered, "Let's go to bed now, Rose. We'll discuss it in the morning."
His kiss was a promise, and she returned it.
The End