The Single Dad Finds a Wife. Felicia Mason

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      She wondered which category the man and the boy fell into.

      He’d said he couldn’t go to the hospital. And then there was the overly generous handout at the downtown bakery and sweetshop. Spring could make a fairly educated guess about their financial situation.

      She sent the man a reassuring smile, then gave her full attention to her young patient. “Jeremy, sweetie, does it hurt anywhere?”

      He let out a moan in response.

      The man winced, a reaction that didn’t escape her. He hovered near the top of the table and put his hand on the boy’s shoulder.

      “My stomach hurts,” came a small voice.

      “Well, I’m Dr. Spring, and I’m going to see about that, okay?”

      Jeremy nodded.

      She gave him a cursory exam, feeling along his abdomen and chest, watching his reaction as she pressed or prodded.

      The boy moaned again.

      “Is he going to be okay?” The father’s concern and fear compelled Spring to reassure him in some way, even though she knew she couldn’t give him the blanket promise she knew he wanted to hear.

      “May I see you for a moment?” she asked him.

      He glanced at his son and then nodded. “I’m going to be right over here, buddy. You hang in there—the doctor’s going to make it better.”

      They took a few steps away, just far enough that the child couldn’t overhear.

      “I’m going to run a few tests,” Spring told him. “Just to be on the safe side. It could be a simple tummy ache, but I don’t want to rule out anything else unless I’m sure.”

      “Do you know how much—” the man began.

      Spring interrupted. “You don’t have to worry about the cost. Our focus here at Common Ground is wellness and health.”

      “I can pay,” he said.

      She touched his arm. “It’s all right. Really.”

      A little moan from the examination table drew Spring’s attention back to her young patient.

      “Everything will be fine,” she assured the boy’s father.

      * * *

      David didn’t know what was more distressing, Jeremy getting sick while they were out of town or this gorgeous doctor thinking he was some kind of deadbeat who couldn’t pay for his kid’s health-care needs.

      And gorgeous she was. Her blond hair, like spun gold sprinkled with shards of sunlight and honey, was pulled up on the sides and clasped with a large barrette to keep it out of her face. She wore simple gold hoops in her ears. Khaki slacks and a crisp white shirt were visible under the unbuttoned white lab coat she had over her clothing.

      But something about that name rang a bell with him. What had the receptionist said?

      And then he remembered. Darling.

      Someone named Darling was leading the opposition to his development project.

       Great.

      Just great, David thought. What else can go wrong?

      “I think it’s a case of gastroenteritis,” the pretty doctor said.

      David groaned. That sounded serious.

      “That sounds...it sounds bad,” he said. “Are you sure? Is he going to be okay?”

      Dr. Darling smiled and placed a reassuring hand on his arm. Again.

      “It sounds much worse than it is,” she said. “Gastroenteritis is what most people call the stomach flu. Has he had any—”

      “Daddy, I have to go to the bathroom.”

      “—diarrhea or vomiting?” Spring said at the same time.

      David’s eyes widened as he looked between the boy and the pretty doctor. She pointed toward the door.

      “Second door on the right,” she told him.

      David scooped up his son and dashed for the rest room.

      Twenty minutes later and with his son’s diagnosis confirmed, David got instructions from the doctor on what needed to be done.

      “He’ll need rest and plenty of fluids for the next few days,” Spring said. “It’s really easy for the little ones to get dehydrated with this sort of illness. He needs plenty of juice, tea or Gatorade. I’m going to give you a prescription. It’s an oral electrolyte replacement. Gatorade has some, but this will ensure that he gets all the fluids and minerals he needs. He may not want much to eat, but be sure you give this to him with food, even if it’s just a bit of banana or some peanut butter. The protein will do him good. But be sure he starts with soft foods.”

      “Dr. Darling, I’m not sure—”

      “It’s already taken care of, Mr.—I’m sorry. I didn’t get your name.”

      “Camden,” he said. “David Camden.” Then, wondering, he added, “What’s already taken care of?”

      “The prescription. All you have to do is take this to any pharmacy in town. Common Ground will see to the payment. You just need to make sure Jeremy takes all of the medication, even when he’s feeling better.”

      Her cheery explanation grated on David. Here he was in Cedar Springs to help develop its economic vitality and all she could see was a loser who needed handouts. That Carolina Land Associates, and thus David Camden himself, was one contract away from just that stung his psyche like salt in an open wound.

      For every degree of warmth in her voice, David’s dropped until ice chips formed on his words.

      “I am not a charity case, Dr. Darling.”

       Chapter Two

      “I didn’t presume that you were, Mr. Camden,” she said.

      If she was upset or insulted by his tone, it didn’t show.

      David had to give her credit. She didn’t snap at him even though he probably deserved it. She spoke the words slowly and evenly. But he did notice an ever-so-slight tightening at the corner of her mouth. If he hadn’t been looking directly at said mouth, he would have missed it.

      The irrational part of him felt inordinately pleased. He had managed to ruffle her too-cool feathers and the calm-seas demeanor she wore with the ease she wore that white lab coat with the Common Ground logo and her name—Dr. Darling—embroidered inside a blue oval.

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