The Doctor Next Door. Marta Perry

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      “I’d like to see that sometime. Do you let boys in?”

      That earned a shy smile. “You’re not a boy.”

      “I’m not?” He gave her a shocked look.

      “You’re a man!” She erupted in giggles, and he joined her.

      Brett had made another conquest, not surprisingly. He always had been able to charm the birds from the trees. And there was genuine kindness behind his smile. Small wonder even shy Kristie responded to it, just as Rebecca had.

      She must have been about her niece’s age when she’d solemnly asked Brett if he’d marry her when she grew up. They’d been in the tree house, and she could still smell the lilacs that had been blooming in the garden.

      Brett had been kind; he was always kind. He’d taken both her hands in his and assured her she’d meet someone she’d love lots more than him. He was going to be a doctor, he’d told her. He promised he’d come back and take care of all of them.

      She’d tried to blink tears away, knowing a rejection when she heard it, even at five. She’d nodded, as if accepting his words, but her heart had known she loved him.

      Now, she could only hope Brett had forgotten that embarrassing incident.

      “Come on.” She took Kristie’s hand. “Time we got you back to bed.”

      At least that would get her out of Brett’s company for a few minutes. She wouldn’t have to pretend nothing was wrong, and she wouldn’t have to pretend she wasn’t affected by seeing him again.

      Kristie’s curly red head burrowed against her skirt. “I’m tired, Auntie Rebecca. Carry me.”

      Brett scooped her up before Rebecca could move. “I’ll take her.”

      “Wait, let me wipe off the chocolate.” She snatched a napkin. “You don’t need to do that. You should stay here and visit with people.”

      She hoped there wasn’t a desperate edge in her voice. The last thing she wanted right now was to be alone with him.

      He ignored her. “Here we go.” He hoisted Kristie, hands now clean, to his shoulder. “Hold on tight.” He started for the archway, bouncing her so that she giggled and clutched his hair.

      Managing a meaningless smile for anyone who might be watching, Rebecca followed.

      They trooped up the wide staircase. At the top, she nodded toward the door next to hers. “This is Kristie’s room.”

      “Duck your head, Kristie.” He stooped under the door frame, earning another giggle, and plopped Kristie on the white single bed with its bright quilt. “Ready for bed.”

      “Wound up, you mean.” Rebecca pulled back the quilt. “In you go, and say your prayers. It’s way past bedtime, and you have school tomorrow, remember?”

      Kristie pouted. “Don’t want to go to bed. Don’t want to go to school.” She bounced. “I want to stay at the party.”

      Rebecca could read the warning signs of a disturbed night. “Kristie…”

      Brett sat down on the edge of the bed. “You’re not going to tell me this girl goes to school, are you? What are you…fifth grade? Sixth?”

      Kristie giggled, not seeming to notice that he was putting her down on the pillow, tucking the quilt around her. “I’m in kindergarten.”

      “Wow!” He managed a suitable look of surprise as he clicked off the bedside lamp, leaving the room bathed in the soft glow of the night-light. “So how do you like kindergarten?”

      “Okay, I guess.” She looked down. “Sometimes Jeffy takes my crayons. And he says I’m a…a carrottop.” She said the word as if it were monstrous.

      Rebecca’s throat tightened. She’d known something was wrong at school, but Kristie had been stubbornly uncommunicative about it. Now she’d blurted it out to Brett on the basis of a five-minute acquaintanceship.

      “Do you know what a carrottop is?” Brett smoothed her red curls.

      She nodded solemnly. “Grandma had some carrots in her garden.”

      Brett lifted a springy strand of red. “I’ll bet she did, but Jeffy was talking about your hair. Because he thinks it’s the color of a carrot.” He glanced up at Rebecca, smiling. “Aunt Rebecca had hair this color when she was your age, and I always thought it was the prettiest hair color in the world. Maybe Jeffy thinks so, too.”

      Rebecca’s heart gave a ridiculous thump. He was talking nonsense to soothe Kristie, of course. She couldn’t let it affect her. Couldn’t let it bring back sharp, evocative images of a much younger Brett. He wasn’t that person anymore. And she wasn’t that little girl.

      “But he teases me.”

      “I’ll tell you a secret.” Brett leaned close to the child and lowered his voice to a whisper. “Boys only tease girls they like.” He looked up at her again, eyes laughing. “Isn’t that right, Aunt Rebecca?”

      She kept smiling by sheer effort of will, heart thumping. “That’s right.”

      She wasn’t the child who’d idolized him any longer. But she’d have to do something about the ridiculous way her heart turned over every time he smiled at her.

      Chapter Two

      Memories assailed Brett as he poured a mug of coffee in the sunny kitchen of his parents’ house the next morning. Memories of himself and Angela, back when she’d been the most important person in his world. He had to smile now at that infatuation. Angela didn’t seem to have grown up at all since then. It was Rebecca whose maturity astounded him.

      Mitch and Alex hadn’t changed, though.

      He smiled, thinking of them, but a shadow tinged his mind. He could keep his problems a secret from most people, but he couldn’t withhold them from Alex and Mitch.

      Still, their support was one thing he knew he could always count on, no matter what. The three of them had faced death together, once upon a time. That had created a bond nothing could break.

      His mind drifted back to the party the night before. Rebecca had been right— Mitch and Anne really were meant for each other. The fact that they’d be starting married life with a ready-made family of her adopted baby and his foster son just seemed to add to their glow.

      Alex was another story. Brett frowned down at his cup. Alex might be able to hide his pain from other people, but not from him. He’d give anything for a look at Alex’s medical charts. He owed Alex—owed him a lot. If there was a way he could make up for the past, he’d like to find it.

      He put down the coffee. Somehow everything—every concern, every conversation, even every thought, led him straight to the clinic. Rebecca was probably wondering why he wasn’t there already, and she wouldn’t hesitate to tell him so. If he’d known pesky little СКАЧАТЬ