Daddy On Call. Judy Duarte

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СКАЧАТЬ wearing a silver clip in her hair stood at the window, looking into the dark of night.

      “Who’s here with Carrie Summers?” he asked.

      The woman peering out the window turned to face him. When her gaze met his, the past slammed into him, causing his mind to numb and his pulse to jam.

      Recognition crossed her face. Shock, too.

      He supposed he couldn’t blame her, since she’d pretty much considered him a juvenile delinquent the last time he’d seen her. And here he was now—the attending physician in the E.R. of one of the county’s busiest hospitals.

      Of course, the fact that he’d turned his life around and had morphed into a doctor had surprised a lot of people.

      She neither smiled nor frowned, which made it tough to regroup, to gather his wits. Or to rein in emotions that threatened to run amok.

      Leilani Stephens had been his first love, and not many days went by that he didn’t think about her. Dream about her.

      As a kid, he’d been in awe of her lovely hula-girl shape, year-round tropical tan and knockout smile. But it had been more than her physical attributes that had caught his eye and kicked up his hormones. Her innocence and sweet nature had slapped him with a full-blown case of puppy love.

      Even so, it hadn’t been her memory that had haunted him for the past twelve years. It had been her parting words, the anger in her voice and the tears in her eyes that had burned into his soul.

      She’d held Luke responsible for her younger brother’s death. And she’d never forgiven him for it.

      When push came to shove, he supposed he’d never forgiven himself, either. No matter how much time had passed. Or how big a change he’d made in his life.

      But he wasn’t the only one who’d changed. Leilani was no longer the teenager he’d once loved, either. No longer the seventeen-year-old Polynesian beauty with silky, waist-length black hair who could turn a guy’s heart inside out. She’d grown older and undoubtedly wiser.

      Yet her gaze still had the power to take his breath away.

      “Luke,” she said simply, her voice a bit more mature, but still as soft and melodious as he remembered.

      “It’s Dr. Wynter now.”

      He regretted his response the moment it left his mouth. It probably sounded as though he was flaunting the medical degree he’d fought long and hard to earn. Instead he’d only meant to validate himself in her eyes. To let her know a lot had changed since her brother had died and she’d shut him out of her life.

      That she could trust him now.

      She cleared her throat as though still trying to take it all in and decide how she felt about it. “The nurse mentioned Carrie was being examined by Dr. Wynter. But I had no idea…”

      “I can understand why.”

      “How is she?”

      “Stable,” he said. “For now. But she’s critical. Come with me. Let’s talk in private.”

      He led her down the hall to the room set aside for giving a patient’s family bad news. Not that he would paint a dark picture. It was too early to tell for sure. But the guy who beat Carrie had nearly killed her, and she was a long way from being out of the woods.

      It was a painful walk—more so than any other he’d had to make. His mind scurried to find the right words. But not so much about her friend.

      All that had separated them before jumped to the forefront, just as real and heartbreaking as the day she left San Diego and never came back.

      As they entered the small room, with its pale green walls and living room-style atmosphere, he asked Leilani to have a seat.

      She chose the floral-print sofa, but sat on the edge as if wanting to bolt.

      He could relate. He felt like hightailing it out of there, too.

      For some reason, he would have preferred to be outdoors when he talked to her, away from the four walls that sometimes closed in on him when he was faced with grieving friends and family members who struggled with the shock of an accident, illness or death.

      He might be a whiz when it came to treating bullet holes, knife wounds and broken bones, but he wasn’t good at handing out sympathy along with the tissues or saying the right thing. Hell, if he’d had any gifts in the emotional support department, maybe his mom wouldn’t have chosen to end it all a few years back.

      Luke took a seat on a beige vinyl recliner. To say neither of them had expected to see the other, to be sitting across the table face-to-face, was an understatement of gigantic proportions.

      “Leilani,” he said, realizing that her name, as Hawaiian as the island on which she’d grown up, slipped off his tongue as though the last twelve years hadn’t gone by. As though they were still kids tripping over their hormones.

      Yet the past hovered over them like a vulture ready to swoop down and consume the remnants of innocence—her brother’s and hers. As much as he’d wanted to apologize years ago—to explain his version of the story—that wasn’t why she was sitting across from him. Nor was it what she wanted to hear right now.

      Luke always remained detached from his patients—for their sake as well as his own. He merely assessed injuries and illnesses, then provided emergency treatment until the patients could be passed to the appropriate specialists or sent home to recover. He struggled to do the same this evening, but it wasn’t working very well.

      He suspected it was because he’d let Leilani down before and was hoping to provide her with a better outcome this time.

      “Is Carrie going to die?” Those pretty golden-brown eyes searched his for answers he didn’t have.

      “It’s too early to know. I won’t beat around the bush. She’s hurt badly. And her pregnancy complicates things.”

      “How’s the baby?”

      “Alive. I’m afraid we don’t know much right now. But the neurosurgeon and obstetrician will determine the best treatment for her.”

      Her gaze, wide-eyed and luminous, lanced his chest, making him feel like an awkward adolescent with a crush on the new girl at school—an exotic beauty who’d been blessed with the best genetics her Anglo father and Hawaiian mother could offer.

      And in spite of the voice inside begging him to step back, to pass not only the patient on to other doctors, but to pass Leilani on, too, he found it tough to do so.

      “How are you holding up?” he asked.

      “Me?”

      Leilani wasn’t sure what to tell him. Needless to say, she was deeply concerned about her friend and the baby. But running into Luke Wynter had never crossed her mind. And the fact that he’d turned his life around merely added more surprise to the mix.

      “I’m okay,” she said, although that wasn’t entirely true. There was a lot of history between the two of them, and Luke didn’t know the half of it.

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