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СКАЧАТЬ she was that he was there, but none of this was fair to Annie. She had no idea what was going on and was just scared because her mommy had thrust her into the arms of a man she didn’t know from a rock. No wonder she was crying her eyes out. That, at least, was something that could be fixed.

      She opened the door to the exam room, held her gown together with one hand at her chest and flagged Grace down in the hallway. “Annie’s really upset.”

      “I heard,” Grace said ruefully.

      “Can she come in the exam room?”

      “It will be hard for the doctor to check you out if she’s clinging to you.”

      “As long as she can see me, I think it would calm her down,” Em said.

      “Who’s the hunk?” Grace asked.

      “Dr. Cal Westen.”

      “The pediatric E.R. guy at Mercy Medical? He’s a friend?”

      Not so much, Em thought. “You could say that.”

      Grace looked puzzled. “What about patient privacy?”

      “I want him to know everything. Just in case.”

      “Okay.” Grace nodded. “I’ll go get him.”

      Em nodded then sat on the exam table, legs dangling over the end. Moments later she heard Annie crying and it got louder just before Cal brought her into the room.

      He handed the baby to her. “Sorry.”

      That made two of them. “Not your fault,” she said, cuddling the little girl to her. “Can I have her cup?”

      He dug the juice out of the diaper bag and Annie grabbed it, relaxing in her arms when she started to suck.

      “Do you want me to leave?” he asked.

      “No.” She didn’t want to be alone, and Annie didn’t count.

      The crying jag had worn her out and a bit of gentle rocking coaxed her into sleep. “Can you take her? It will be fine. Once she goes off, it takes a lot to wake her.”

      He nodded and set the diaper bag on the chair, then stood in front of her and held out his arms. True to form, Annie slept through the transfer and Em’s arms were grateful. Moments later the doctor walked in. A brown-eyed blonde, Rebecca Hamilton was in her late twenties, young for a doctor. She’d skipped several grades in school and that had given her a jump on her career and a successful, growing practice.

      “Hi, Emily,” she said, settling her wire-rimmed glasses more securely on her freckle-splashed nose. She noticed Cal and the baby. “Sorry. I didn’t know Annie was asleep.”

      “This is Cal Westen,” Emily said. “He’s a doctor.”

      Rebecca nodded. “I know you by reputation, Doctor, and I mean that in a good way.”

      “Same here,” he said.

      Rebecca looked at her. “So you brought along moral support?”

      Em nodded. “Kind of. He’s Annie’s father.”

      “I see.” There was no indication that Rebecca was surprised, but then she’d probably heard it all. “So, let’s get down to business.”

      She did the usual listen with the stethoscope and took a pulse and blood pressure. Then she stood between Emily and Cal as she parted the gown and did an exam of the left breast. Frowning, she said, “There it is.”

      Em was hoping this had all been her imagination and took a deep breath. “Is it cancer?”

      “Don’t go there,” Rebecca advised. “We have absolutely no reason to believe that. More information is required to determine exactly what it is. Could be a cyst, which is no big deal. Or a noncancerous mass such as a fibroadenoma, a benign tumor. Or an intraductal papilloma.”

      “Translation?” Em said, pulling the gown closed over her breasts.

      “That’s a small, wartlike growth in a milk duct. Since you nursed Annie, that would be my guess. But we need to do some tests.”

      “Mammogram?” Cal asked.

      Rebecca glanced over her shoulder, then looked back at Em. “Because you’re so young, I’d like to start with an ultrasound. It’s noninvasive, painless and radiation free. It should determine if the lump is a mass or just a harmless, fluid-filled cyst. If that’s the case, testing is over and there’s nothing to fear. Although we might want to aspirate the contents.”

      “What if it’s not?” Cal asked.

      “Then we get a diagnostic mammogram. It’s a digital, electronic image,” she explained to Em, because he already knew this stuff. “The pictures can be computer manipulated, making them cleaner, clearer and easier to read. We focus on the area of concern, compressing tissue and magnifying images so that we can get a much more detailed look.”

      “Will that tell us what it is?” Em asked.

      “We’ll know more about what it isn’t,” Rebecca explained. “If it’s not a cyst, we’ll need a biopsy.”

      “Surgery?” Em’s heart started to hammer and she met Cal’s eyes over the doctor’s shoulder.

      “No.” Rebecca touched her hand. “An ultrasound-guided core needle biopsy. It’s an in-office procedure to extract a small sampling of cells, which we’ll test. I want to stress that there’s absolutely no reason for you to believe the worst. If you’d like, I can recommend a breast specialist. Or I’d be happy to consult with one and coordinate your care.”

      Emily glanced at Cal, still holding a peacefully sleeping Annie. Emotion swelled inside her and pressed against her heart. “What do you think?”

      “Dr. Hamilton is right. It’s one step at a time. If you’re comfortable, it’s clear that she’s got the situation under control.”

      “Here is good.”

      The doctor nodded. “Then for now I’ll coordinate everything. I’m going to have Grace set up an appointment at the breast imaging center at Mercy Medical. That’s step one. And you’re not to worry.”

      “Right.”

      Rebecca put a reassuring arm around her shoulders and said, “It’s going to be okay.”

      When they were alone, Cal let out a breath. He looked like he’d worked a double shift in the E.R. during cold and flu season. “How are you?”

      “Probably better than you.”

      He glanced at the little girl cradled in his arms. “It’s been a rough morning.”

      “There’s the understatement of the century.” She met his gaze. “I want to go home.”

      He nodded. “I’ll take her in the waiting room so you can get dressed.”

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