Читать книгу: «Family by Design»
“I don’t blame her for acting out. She’s lost everyone she loves,” J.C. said.
Unexpectedly, Maddie covered his hand with hers. “Not quite everyone.”
He stared at her long, slender fingers and pulled his gaze back to hers. “My niece has been fighting with some of the girls at school, her grades are slipping.” And Chrissy was miserable.
Concern etched Maddie’s face. “Can I help? She could spend afternoons with us.”
“Don’t have enough on your plate now?”
“It’s what we do. You know, here in Rosewood. She’s a child who needs any help we can give her.”
It was how J.C. had been raised, too. “Maybe from people who have the time. You’re exhausted now. I’m not going to add to that burden.”
The fire in her now stormy gray eyes was one he remembered. “It’s not a burden. I have enough energy to spare some for Chrissy.”
She was pretty remarkable, J.C. decided. Even more remarkable—she didn’t seem to realize it.
Dear Reader,
Sometimes a book comes from the whisper of an idea or from experience. In an ever-shifting world, I draw from both. I was blessed with loving, caring parents. The immeasurable bond between my mother and myself was a gift from the Lord. Even when dementia robbed her memory, her love for me never wavered. I am thankful every day for what we shared and how incredibly blessed I was to have her for my mother.
I always wished to have the same relationship with my own daughter, but when “she” was born, it was a boy! Brian has been an incredible blessing and this last year had his first child, a baby girl, Liberty. She’s only the third girl in five generations of my family! A miracle! My daughter-in-law, Lindsey, is my girl now, too, a true daughter who I love.
The Lord knew I always wanted a sister, so He gave me friends who are my sisters. Through one, Karen, I was blessed with the daughter of my heart, Erica. She has been dear to me since she was a child, and with her I have been able to have the mother-daughter relationship that I prayed for.
I’ve never known if life does indeed imitate art, but I do know that we are all incredibly fortunate to have families, whether they’re of our blood or not, who care about and love us. My wish for you, dear reader, is that your life is blessed with family, perhaps even family by design.
God bless,
Family by Design
Bonnie K. Winn
MILLS & BOON
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Many daughters have done nobly,
But you excel them all.
—Proverbs 31:29
For Erica Endo, daughter of my heart.
Chapter One
Maddie Carter forgot to breathe. Her hand, swallowed by the doctor’s larger one, rioted in unexpected reaction.
Dr. J. C. Mueller smiled and she gaped, unable to think of anything coherent to say as he turned to her mother, Lillian.
“So, Mrs. Carter, I understand your G.P. recommended you meet with me.” He winked. “Of course, I am the only neurologist in Rosewood.”
Maddie stumbled on her way to the extra chair in the examining room, righting herself quickly, hoping he hadn’t noticed.
How had she forgotten this man? True, he’d been three years ahead of her in high school, then he’d gone to Baylor, while she’d attended the University of Texas, but still … She couldn’t stop staring. Tall, broad-shouldered, with a shock of thick dark hair, mesmerizing brown eyes and a cleft in his chin that begged to be touched.
J.C. flipped through the thick pile of pages in her mother’s chart, detailing the history of strokes that had brought on early onset dementia. He put down the folder, picking up Lillian’s hand, placing two fingers over her upturned wrist.
Maddie couldn’t still her heartbeat, instantly remembering the strength of his long fingers, the touch that tickled even her toes.
“Mrs. Carter, your vital signs are excellent.”
Pleased, Lillian smiled. “Thank you, young man.”
“I’d like to run a few tests, nothing invasive.”
“Have I met you before?” Lillian questioned, puzzled.
“I grew up here in Rosewood,” J.C. responded patiently. His wide smile was easy, kind. And his gold-flecked brown eyes sparkled.
Maddie’s own pulse increased. Good thing he wasn’t recording hers.
“How about you, Mrs. Carter? Are you from Rosewood originally?”
Maddie recognized the pattern to the handsome doctor’s questions. He wanted to see if her mother could remember and verbalize her recollections. Lillian’s worsening symptoms had prompted their G.P.’s referral to a specialist.
“My mother was born here,” Lillian mused, her pale blue eyes reflective. “My father came from the Panhandle, near Amarillo. But he took one look at her and knew he wanted to stay.” Smiling, she looked up at the doctor. “Love will do that, you know.”
“Yes, ma’am,” J.C. agreed, stretching out his long legs.
Immediately, Maddie wondered if he was married, engaged. Surely some smart woman had snagged him long ago.
“So you raised your family here,” J.C. continued. Lillian’s short-term memory was nearly nonexistent, but she remembered quite a bit from the past.
“My Maddie, yes.”
J.C. glanced in Maddie’s direction to include her in the conversation. “Just one child?”
“One perfect daughter,” Lillian declared proudly.
Maddie felt her cheeks warming and shrugged an embarrassed apology to the doctor.
He grinned. “And why mess with perfection?”
“That’s how we always felt,” Lillian agreed with a vigorous nod as she turned to stare at her daughter.
J.C. mimicked her action.
Maddie immediately wished she’d remembered to wear lipstick. And what had she been thinking when she’d chosen this rumpled blouse and skirt? That her mother had let the bath water run unchecked until it overflowed. And Maddie had been zooming on full speed to get the mess cleaned up so that they could get ready for the appointment. Their small home had only one bathroom and Lillian could have easily slipped on the tile floor.
Self-consciously, Maddie smoothed her full cotton skirt, remembering she hadn’t done a thing with her hair. In fact, she’d pulled it back in a messy ponytail. Just add the braces she’d once worn and she would look as geeky as she had in high school. Trying not to flush more, Maddie smiled feebly beneath their inspection.
“Maddie should have her own tea shop,” Lillian continued.
“Oh, yes?”
Maddie squirmed. “Just an old dream.”
“Nothing of the kind,” Lillian declared. “She should set up right on Main Street, smack dab in the middle of town.”
“Let me know when you’re ready,” J.C. gazed at Maddie. “I happen to have a building … well, actually it belongs to my young niece. And it desperately needs a tenant. Be a great place for a tea shop.” Turning back to Lillian, he extended his hand. “Mrs. Carter, I’ve enjoyed our visit and I’m looking forward to seeing you more often.”
“I should think you’d rather visit with my beautiful daughter,” Lillian guilelessly replied.
Lord, a hole, please. Underneath this chair, just big enough for me to disappear.
“I’ll see you both on your next visit,” J.C. replied without missing a beat.
Rumpled, crumpled and thoroughly embarrassed, Maddie rose, ready to end their consultation.
But the doctor wasn’t. This time he spoke directly to her. “My nurse will set up the tests.” He held out a paper. “Just give this to her.” He scribbled on a second sheet of paper. “And I want to adjust your mother’s medications.”
“Thank …” Maddie cleared the embarrassing croaking in her voice. “Thank you.”
“My pleasure.”
She sincerely doubted that, but smiled. “Mom, should we go home? Have that cup of tea?”
“Maddie makes the best tea in the world,” Lillian announced, this time her voice not as strong. She weakened quickly these days.
J.C. opened the exam room door, allowing them to precede him. Maddie wasn’t sure how she knew, but she was almost certain that J.C. continued watching as they left. She had a wild impulse to look back, to see. But there wasn’t any point. Her social life had ended when her mother’s dementia had begun. And mooning over a handsome doctor would only make her long for what wasn’t in her destiny.
“Maddie?”
“Yes, Mom.”
“I have a yen for some tea. What do you think?”
That she needed to put longings out of her head. This was her reality. “Sounds good.”
Lillian patted her hand, having completely forgotten Maddie’s words only minutes before. J.C. wouldn’t be part of her own future, but Maddie was fiercely glad he was in her mother’s. At the rate she was deteriorating, otherwise, Lillian might lose her grip on even the distant past.
Chilled by the possibility, Maddie gently squeezed her mother’s delicate fingers. They were the last remaining members of their family. It didn’t bear thinking how dreadful it would be should that tiny number be halved.
J.C. stared after his departing patient. Well, her daughter, actually. Not that he’d forgotten a detail about Lillian.
Or Maddie. Refreshing. The one word summed her up completely. From the sprinkle of freckles on her smooth skin to the strawberry-blond wisps of hair that escaped from her bouncy ponytail. His gut reaction to her had come out of nowhere. That door had been closed since his ex-wife’s betrayal. Now with everything else in his life …
The intercom in his office buzzed. “Dr. M?”
“I’m here, Didi.”
“School’s on the phone.”
He sighed. His nine-year-old niece, Chrissy, wasn’t adjusting well after the deaths of her parents. It had been a blow out of the blue. His sister, Fran, and brother-in-law, Jay, had been asleep when carbon monoxide had leaked out of the furnace. Chrissy, their only child, had been at a friend’s pajama party for the night.
“Dr. M?” Didi called again.
“Yeah, I’ll get it.” Reluctantly he picked up the phone.
“Doctor Mueller?”
J.C. readily recognized the principal’s voice. They’d spoken often since the tragedy. “Yes, David?”
“You need to pick up Chrissy.”
Frowning, he checked his watch. It was only eleven in the morning. “Now?”
“There’s been another … incident.”
Chrissy, once a model child and student, had been acting out. “Surely she doesn’t need to come home this early in the day.”
“Afraid so, J.C.” The principal dropped the formalities. “She started a fight with two other girls. One is in tears, the other had to go home because we couldn’t calm her down. J.C., you’re going to have to figure out how to get Chrissy back under control.”
J.C. rubbed his forehead, feeling the onset of now near-constant pain. He’d easily diagnosed himself. Stress-induced migraines. Losing his only sibling had been a devastating blow. He and his older sister had always been close. She’d been the one always looking out for him, the one who had comforted him when they’d lost first their father, then not long afterward their mother. And she’d kept him propped up during his divorce. Without her …
Fran had been his pillar. Illogically, he wanted to speak to her, so she could tell him how to deal with Chrissy.
Opening the day’s schedule on his laptop, J.C. saw that he could steal an hour by switching one consultation. After asking Didi to make the arrangements, he drove quickly to the nearby school.
Chrissy sat in one of the chairs in the office, her arms crossed, her expression mute. But her posture and body spoke for her. Sulky. From the top of her head to the tips of her crossed feet.
She didn’t meet his gaze while he talked with the secretary and checked Chrissy out of school. But once in the hallway, her footsteps dragged.
J.C. couldn’t be mad. Under her rebellious expression was a hurt little girl overwhelmed by pain and loss. He placed one hand on her shoulder as they walked side-by-side, both silent as they approached the car.
Chrissy pulled off her backpack and flung it on the floor. Along with the clicking of seat belts being fastened in place, they were the only sounds until he turned the key in the ignition. J.C. drove out of the school parking lot before he spoke. “You’ll have to spend the afternoon at the office.”
Chrissy stared out the window. “I’m old enough to stay by myself.”
Thinking how vulnerable she was, he kept his tone light. “I’m not sure I’m old enough to stay on my own. At any rate, you’ll have more space to spread out your books in Mrs. Cook’s office.”
Chrissy snorted.
J.C. glanced over at his niece. She still stared out the window. The only time she reacted positively was when they passed Wagner Hill House, the building on Main Street that had contained her father’s business. It had sat undisturbed since Jay’s death.
Thinking it might help Chrissy, J.C. decided to drive by his sister’s house. Although he kept putting it off, he needed to sort through the house, make it livable again. Maybe Chrissy would settle down if she could live in her home again. He didn’t mind giving up his tiny apartment; it was just a place to sleep really.
Turning on Magnolia Avenue, he saw Chrissy straighten up.
Pleased she was finally showing interest in something, he pulled into the driveway.
As soon as he turned off the vehicle, Chrissy began shrieking.
“No! I won’t go in! No! No!” Sobs erupted and tears flooded her cheeks. “You can’t make me!”
Horrified, J.C. tried to calm her. “What is it, Chrissy?”
“The house killed them!” She blurted out between staggered sobs.
Her distress was so intense J.C. didn’t try to reason with her. Instead, he quickly backed out of the driveway, then sped from the neighborhood. Once past the familiar streets, he pulled into a space in front of the park. Unhooking his own seat belt and then Chrissy’s, he gently guided her from the car to a bench beneath a large oak.
Still shaking from the remaining gulps of tears, she allowed him to drape an arm over her shoulders. When she was tiny, he would have popped her in his lap, pulled a dozen silly faces and made her giggle. He felt completely ill-equipped to comfort her now.
Patting her arm, he waited until the last of her hiccupping gulps trailed to an end. “I’m sorry, Chrissy. I wouldn’t have gone to the house if I’d known it would upset you.” He paused. “I was hoping it would make you feel better.”
She shook her head so hard that her light brown hair flew unchecked from side to side. “I never, ever want to go there again.”
“After some time—”
“Never!” she exclaimed. Her lips wobbled and a few new tears mixed with the wash of others on her cheeks.
J.C. patted her knee. “I thought you might like to live there again, get out of my scruffy apartment.”
“No!” she cried again, burying her face against his shoulder. “I can’t!”
J.C. imagined he could hear the child’s heart actually breaking. “Then you won’t.” He would have the contents packed for storage, then rent out the house in case she changed her mind later. “And if it starts bothering you, we won’t go by the print building, either.”
Chrissy pulled back a bit so she could look at him. “It’s not the same.”
“No?”
“Daddy’s work didn’t hurt them. It was the house.”
Logic wasn’t a factor. Just the raw feelings of a wounded child.
“Okay, then.”
“We could move in there,” she suggested hopefully. “To Daddy’s work.”
The first floor of the building had been occupied by the business. And there were two apartments above it. Jay’s parents had lived in one until they passed away.
“No one’s lived in those apartments for a while,” he explained. More important, they wouldn’t have any immediate neighbors. Even though his bachelor apartment was small, at least in his complex, Chrissy was surrounded by people. He didn’t like the idea of her being alone in a big building on Main Street when he had to make night calls at the hospital. A few proprietors lived above their businesses, but not in the building next to them. And the Wagner Hill House was on a corner next to a side street that bisected Main, so there wasn’t a second adjoining neighbor.
“We could fix up the apartment,” Chrissy beseeched, kicking her feet back, dragging them through the grass. “And live on top of Daddy’s print shop.” The apartment was above the business on the second floor, but he knew what she meant.
Blair, a nurse who worked at the hospital, lived in his apartment complex and so far J.C. had asked her to listen for Chrissy when he had to leave her. But it wasn’t a comfortable situation. He worried the entire time he was away. What if Chrissy woke up and was scared? What if there was a fire? The possibilities were endless. But he couldn’t hire live-in help to share their small space. As it was, he was camping out on the sofa so Chrissy could have the only bedroom.
And babysitters weren’t pleased to be phoned in the middle of the night. The few who had reluctantly responded once didn’t respond again. Not that J.C. blamed them. Who wanted to get up at two or three in the morning to babysit, not knowing if they would have to stay an hour or the rest of the night? What they really needed was sort of a combination housekeeper and nanny who lived in. But Chrissy had run off every single one he had hired, resenting anyone she thought was trying to take her mother’s place.
“I’m afraid we can’t live in the Main Street building.”
Chrissy sniffled. “Then are we going to stay in your apartment?”
J.C. glanced up at the cloudless sky. Rosewood’s tranquility had always been a peaceful balm. But now he wasn’t certain there could be peace anywhere. Lord, we need your help. Chrissy deserves more than just me. Please help us find the answer.
Sighing, Chrissy leaned her head against his arm, her soft weight slumping dispiritedly.
Please, Lord.
Chapter Two
Maddie pulled one of her numerous tins of tea from a shelf in the pantry. “Sure you don’t have a preference?”
Samantha Conway, Maddie’s best friend and one-time neighbor, shrugged. “Surprise me. How many blends have you made now? One hundred?”
“Afraid not.” She placed the tin on the table. “I have ideas for twice that many and space for less than thirty.” Collecting two porcelain cups and saucers she added them to the table.
“So, did your mother like J.C.?” Samantha questioned.
“You were right all along. I should have taken her sooner,” Maddie admitted. Samantha had raved about J.C. ever since he successfully treated her paralysis. Now Samantha walked with only a cane. She had been urging Maddie to see him about Lillian’s worsening symptoms long before their G.P. had made his recommendation. “He’s already ordered new tests and altered her medications.” Swallowing, Maddie remembered the touch of his hand when he gave her the slip of paper.
“Earth to Maddie,” Samantha repeated. “Something on your mind?”
“Of course not.” Trying to sideline her friend’s curiosity, Maddie got up and retrieved the electric kettle. Pouring water into their cups, she set the kettle on a trivet.
“Um, I hate to complain,” Samantha began, “but we don’t have any tea in our cups.”
Maddie shook her face in tiny rapid nods. “Where’s my head?” Because she used loose tea leaves to make her own private blends, she also used individual cup strainers. She put one on each of their cups, then added a scoop of tea leaves. She’d made so much tea over the years that she didn’t need to measure the amount.
Samantha fiddled with her cup. “You sure you’re okay?”
“Why?”
“For one, the strainer’s sitting over the water, so I’m guessing the tea leaves aren’t actually wet and …” She looked intensely at her friend. “The water’s cold.”
“Cold?” Maddie frowned. “It can’t be cold. I just got it from the kettle.” Poking her finger in the cup, she expected a hot jolt. Cold water and limp tea leaves. Great. “I hope the kettle’s not broken.” But as she checked the adjustments and made sure the base was plugged in, Maddie couldn’t remember if she’d actually pushed the On button.
“Okay, give,” Samantha urged. “You forgot to put the tea in the tea? And then you forgot to turn on the kettle? That’s not like you.”
“I suppose it’s been a stressful day.” She recounted the mishap with the morning bath water, how flustered she’d been trying to get them to the appointment on time. “I felt like my accelerator was stuck,” she explained. “Filling in all the forms like a maniac as fast as I could, trying not to cause more delay …”
Samantha leaned back, studying her. “Just the letdown after an adrenaline rush?”
“I suppose so.”
“Funny. You have at least one crisis a week with Lillian, but you’ve never offered me a cold cup of water that hasn’t even swum close to a tea leaf.”
Maddie waved her hands. “Then I’m having an off day.”
“You haven’t told me what you thought of J.C.”
Maddie willed the sudden warmth in her neck to stay there and not redden her face. “He was fine.”
“Fine?”
“Nice, then.”
“Nice?”
“At this rate we’ll be chattering away all day,” Maddie observed with a wry twist of her lips. “I told you that Dr. Mueller ordered several tests and he’s altered Mom’s medications. He thinks one may be sedating her instead of treating the dementia.”
“Um.” Samantha studied her intently. “And that’s all?”
Maddie fiddled with the worn tablecloth. “It was just our first visit.”
“You plan on going back?”
“Of course!” Maddie replied in an instant. Inwardly grimacing, she slowed her words. “Providing Mom does better on the new medications.” The kettle whistled. Relieved, she rose to get the hot water, using the excuse to try and straighten her muddled thoughts. Taking a deep breath, she returned, carefully pouring the steaming water into their cups. “I should have noticed that there wasn’t any steam before. So, would you like some cookies with your tea?”
Looking truly concerned, Samantha drew her brows together, then pointed to a plate of lemon bars. “I brought these, remember?”
“Of course!” She clapped both hands over her reddening cheeks, then sank into her chair. “Not. I’ve been in a fluster since I got home.”
Worry colored Samantha’s eyes. “Is there something about Lillian’s condition you haven’t told me?”
Maddie shook her head. Thank heavens her mother was enjoying her regular afternoon nap and couldn’t overhear. Lifting one shoulder in a half shrug, Maddie stared down at the delicate pink roses edging her saucer. “It’s so stupid, it’s not worth repeating really.”
Samantha leaned forward. “If it’s got you this upset—”
“I wouldn’t exactly call it upsetting. Well, maybe. Depends on what you—”
Rapping the table with her knuckles, Samantha cut off her words. “Spill it.”
“I thought … I think Dr. Mueller is … well, attractive.”
“Downright handsome to be precise. How can this be a surprise? Surely you’ve seen him around town?”
“Mom’s doctor is in an old building downtown, not in the hospital where Dr. Mueller works. Thankfully, we haven’t had to be at the hospital much.”
“Still …” Samantha stopped abruptly. “Sorry. Of course I know you don’t get out enough. I just thought that somehow …” She brightened. “But you do like him?”
“He’s nice.”
“Don’t start that again. And you can call him J.C.” Samantha wriggled her eyebrows. “He’s single, you know. Well, divorced actually.”
“Divorced?”
“I don’t know the details, but I understand it was bad.”
Maddie wondered why any woman would let him go. Silly, she didn’t know a thing about him. Other than that smile, those eyes … Abruptly, she shook her head. “Honestly, Sam, you’re the last person I expected to matchmake. We’re seeing him so he can help Mom, not so I can develop a crush.” The word was barely out of her mouth when Maddie wished she could draw it back.
Samantha blinked.
“Bad choice of words,” Maddie tried to explain.
“Accurate is more like it.” She smiled more gently. “Hit that hard, did it?”
Her embarrassment waning, Maddie plopped her chin on one outstretched hand. “Stupid, huh? I’m old enough to know better.”
“You’re not that old,” Samantha objected. “Besides, I don’t believe in an age limit on falling in love.”
“Whoa!” Maddie protested. “Who said anything about love?”
Samantha grinned. “Puppy love?”
“I had my chance. I picked taking care of Mom instead. It’s what I want.” Maddie wasn’t only loyal, she couldn’t imagine shuttling her mother away because it was more convenient.
“It doesn’t have to be a choice.” Samantha patted Maddie’s hand. “Lillian wants you to be happy.”
“And a man deserves a woman who can devote herself to him and the family they create. I’m not that woman.” Although she’d never regretted her choice, Maddie sometimes dreamed of a life with a loving husband and children of her own. It wasn’t her destiny, but the fantasy was harmless.
“You just haven’t met the right man yet,” Samantha insisted in a gentle, yet confident, tone.
“Forgetting Owen, aren’t you?” Maddie’s high school, then college sweetheart, they’d been engaged when her mother had suffered the first of many strokes. Lillian had only been in her forties at the time, young for the onset of the neurological nightmare that had stolen her short-term memory.
Samantha’s expression was steady. “He’s a rat. What kind of man asks you to choose between him and your mother? He knew what was going on, how painful it was for you to give up everything.”
Maddie tried to interrupt. “But—”
“But nothing. I know you’d make the same choice again, but asking you to put her in a nursing home …” Samantha shook her head angrily. “And it’s not as though he was new to your life, didn’t know your history.”
Stroking the silken smoothness of the porcelain cup, Maddie remembered Owen’s unyielding stance. “I did think he might understand. We were going together when my dad passed away.”
“He also knew you didn’t have any relatives to share the load.” Samantha’s fierce loyalty didn’t waver. “Total rat.”
Maddie reluctantly smiled. “That’s a little extreme, don’t you think?”
“Nope.” Loyal to the end, Samantha didn’t give an inch. “And J.C.’s about as different from Owen as a rat is to a cat.”
“I wouldn’t have thought it until you came back to Rosewood, but you’re a romantic, Sam. Just because you and Bret got back together after nearly a decade—”
“That was fate,” Samantha insisted. “And real, genuine, honest love. It wasn’t a reunion, it was a new start.”
“I imagine Owen’s got his hands full with his business.” His family had money, and Owen had stepped into the enviable position of entrepreneur with none of the struggle most young business owners faced.
“Hmm. And, yes, I know, Bret’s running his family business, but it wasn’t stuffed with cash.”
In fact, it was almost failing when Bret took the helm. “No comparison, Sam. I agree. When we were younger I didn’t think Owen was that affected by having … okay, everything. He just seemed to take it in stride. But when he got older …” He wasn’t the boy she’d fallen in love with.
“Hey, I’m sorry.” Samantha’s voice changed to one of concern. “I didn’t mean to stir all that up. I guess I just thought … well, J.C.’s such a great guy, and you’re my best friend …” She smiled encouragingly. “I still think your life’s going to change because of him—he’s going to help Lillian and that’ll help you.”
“It’s not as though I don’t daydream myself. And you’re right. If he can help Mom …” Maddie smiled. “That’s all I ask.” Because her other dreams were just flotsam in the ether. And as likely to materialize.
True to his word, J.C. began Lillian’s tests with a noninvasive CT scan. Officially called computed tomography, it could detect a blood clot or intracranial bleeding in patients with a stroke. And the scan aided in differentiating the area of the brain affected by the disorder.
J.C. had prescribed a light sedative so that Lillian could lie still. Forgetting where she was, otherwise Lillian might have tried to move, skewing the test results.
The test took only about thirty minutes, but Maddie paced in the waiting room. She didn’t want her mother to wake up disoriented and scared. The technician had assured her that he would watch out for Lillian during the scan, but Maddie couldn’t stop worrying.
“She’s all right,” J.C. announced quietly from behind her.
Maddie whirled around. The carpeted waiting area had camouflaged the sound of his footsteps.
Dressed in scrubs, he acted as though it was normal for him to deliver the news, rather than the technician.
Maddie began to shake, fearing the worst. “Was there a problem?”
He stepped closer, his eyes flickering over her trembling limbs. “None whatsoever. I didn’t mean to alarm you. I just got out of surgery, thought I’d pop in and check on your mother.”
Relieved, Maddie exhaled, her chest still rising with the effort to breathe normally.
J.C. took her arm, guiding her to a chair. “You’re going to have to take it easy.”
Perched on the edge of the chair, she stared up at him.
“CT scan’s about the mildest procedure your mother’s going to have. You’ll sap your energy if you get this upset about every test.”
Suddenly Maddie could breathe. And stand. Nearly nose to nose with him. “I know you’re an excellent doctor. Samantha Conway is proof of that. But don’t presume to tell me how to react. I’ve been caring for my mother for years. I know she gets confused and scared …” Maddie’s trembling increased. “And I won’t let anyone make that worse.”
