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  Eyes wide, Justice wrinkled his nose and went back to coloring his picture. “What do we care if they love omelets or not?”

  Ross gave his son an I-can’t-believe-you-said-that look. “Obviously you haven’t met the right girl yet.”

  Justice’s eyes crinkled with delight. True to the blood flowing through his little veins, Ross’s son set down his crayons and regarded him with a confident expression. “I’ve met lots of girls. There are bunches in my preschool class.” He said this as if revealing top-secret information. “Emma Beth has a dog even.” Justice’s attention turned toward the items Brielle had set out on the counter. “I want a dog, but Mommy says they are a lot of work. I bet I’m good at making omelets.”

  Ross grinned, ruffled the boy’s downy soft hair again just for another touch of his son’s warmth. “I bet you are, too.”

  * * *

  In the end, neither was good at making omelets that particular morning. Usually Ross had no problems mustering up simple dishes in the kitchen. As a long-term bachelor, he was a decent cook. But whether it was knowing that he was cooking with his son, that he was cooking for Brielle, or the constant fear that Justice was going to topple out of the chair he stood on, fall off the countertop Ross kept repositioning him on, burn himself by getting too close to the oven, or some other situation that four-year-old boys got themselves into, Ross wasn’t sure. Just that his kitchen skills were lacking that day.

  When Brielle stepped into the kitchen, she was confronted by a mess the likes of which her kitchen had most likely never seen.

  “Um, I see you boys have been busy.” Her gaze traveled over the countertops, which were covered with various bowls, pans, and measuring utensils.

  Ross just stared at her, wondering what had happened to his ability to breathe. Brielle took his breath away.

  She’d changed into shorts and a T-shirt that hugged her breasts and accentuated her tiny waist. He longed to wrap his arms around that waist, to hold her to him, to see if their bodies fit together the way they once had.

  So much for his claim of the night before.

  Not that he hadn’t meant it. At the time he had. But he’d been blinded by anger and betrayal.

  Perhaps the same anger and betrayal Brielle had felt when she’d come to Boston, pregnant with his child, and seen him with another woman.

  He had dated. He’d had to do something to occupy his mind, his lonely heart, because as bad as things had gotten between them, he’d missed Brielle like crazy when he’d gone north. He’d serial-dated those first few months, searching for but never finding what he’d once had with Brielle. Not ever even coming close.

  “We’re making omelets for chicks,” Justice announced proudly, obviously not realizing what a disaster their attempt was. Then again, one had to appreciate a kid who looked on the bright side of things.

  “Do what?” Her gaze jerking to Ross, Brielle frowned, obviously seeing nothing bright in the current disaster she surveyed or their son’s comment.

  “Uh, yeah,” Ross interrupted before Justice elaborated. “Omelets for chicks. One in particular. You. Unfortunately, we ran into a few problems.”

  Glancing around the cluttered countertops, Brielle’s brow rose. “Just a few?”

  Justice surveyed their mess and wrinkled his nose. “My daddy and I aren’t very good at getting chicks.”

  “Obviously you don’t know your dad,” Brielle said with the sarcasm that seemed to accompany most of what she said to or about him these days. Then, realizing what she’d said, she popped her hand over her mouth, wincing at her blunder. “Sorry,” she mouthed at him, her eyes softening and holding real regret. “I didn’t mean that the way...well, you know.”

  He did know. He’d seen his son for the first time the night before. Of course the boy didn’t know him, and that was Brielle’s fault.

  And his own. Somewhere during the long night he’d admitted to himself that he hadn’t been blameless in the events that had played out.

  Rather than call her on her comment, he just shrugged as if her barb hadn’t stung. “How about I take you both out for breakfast this morning?”

  With one last look around the disaster they’d made of her kitchen, she accepted his olive branch. “That sounds like a good idea. On the way you can explain to me why my son has mentioned ‘chicks’ twice.”

  “Our son mentioned chicks because that’s where eggs come from and we were making omelets, right?” Ross glanced at Justice for confirmation.

  Being the sharp little munchkin he was, he nodded as if he were in on the biggest of secrets. He slipped his hand into Ross’s and grinned. “Right.”

  Ross’s gaze went from where his son’s hand held his to Brielle’s pale face. If she expected him to apologize for trying to form a bond with their son, for telling him the truth, she’d be sorely disappointed. The kitchen was another matter altogether. That he’d make up to her later by cleaning up the mess.

  “Let’s go before we both end up in the doghouse,” he warned his son, holding onto the boy’s hand loosely yet so emotionally tight that he’d never let go.

  Coming to Bean’s Creek had been the right thing.

  Without even realizing it, he’d been coming home.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  DISINFECTING HER HANDS at the nurses’ station, Brielle frowned at her friend. “No, I do not want to talk about why Dr. Lane said he enjoyed the breakfast I cooked this morning.”

  What she wanted was to strangle Ross for saying such a thing in front of Cindy. Why did he think she insisted on taking separate vehicles to work? Was he trying to make her life as complicated as possible? Probably, as he seemed to go back and forth between being so angry at her that she could feel the almost hatred rolling off him to other softer, pleasant emotions that were too similar to the way they had once been for her liking.

  “I’m not blind, you know.”

  “I know.” Brielle sighed. “Do we have to talk about this at work, though?”

  “Well, you’ve been busy every night this week,” Cindy reminded her. She glanced towards where Ross was talking to a patient in Bay One. “Not that I haven’t known why.”

  “It’s not what you think,” Brielle quickly assured her, punching a code into the medication cart.

  “Oh?” Cindy’s brow rose. “It’s not that Dr. Lane is really your long-lost love returned from the past to sweep you off your feet?”

  “Not even close.”

  “No?” Cindy’s gaze narrowed. “Then my second guess must be the right one.”

  “What would that be?” Brielle asked, knowing she probably shouldn’t but doing so all the same.

  “That he’s Justice’s father and realized that he screwed up big time by not being part of that kid’s life and he’s here to do right by you both.”

  “Mostly right.”

  Both women jumped and spun toward Ross.

  “Don’t do that,” Brielle hissed.

  He shrugged. “What? Walk up to the two best nurses in the hospital so I can ask one of them to get Radiology to do a chest X-ray on Mrs. Jones? Also, I’d like a comprehensive metabolic profile, a complete blood count, and a BNP to assess for congestive heart failure.”

  “Uh, yeah.” Heat flushed Brielle’s face. “I’ll get right on that.”

  Glancing back and forth between them, Cindy shook her head. “Nope, Mrs. Jones is my patient. I’ve got this.” Her gaze met Brielle’s. “You stay and find out why my second guess is only mostly right.”

  Brielle and Ross watched Cindy go over to Mrs. Jones, say something to her, then draw blood from her patient’s left arm.

  “I should help her,” Brielle said, to fill the silence that stretched between them and as an excuse to escape his always overwhelming presence.

  “Scared?” He took a
step closer to her, leaving only inches between them.

  “Of?” She didn’t budge, hating the way her feet itched to run and how his nearness affected her.

  “Doing what Cindy suggested.”

  She lifted her chin despite how it put their faces closer together. “I’m not scared of you.”

  “No?”

  “No.” But she took off to help her friend, who didn’t really need help, to the sound of Ross’s laughter behind her.

  * * *

  The emergency department had been crazily busy in spurts and almost dead at other times. Now was one of those crazy times. Everybody available was busy but no matter how busy they were Ross was aware of where Brielle was at all times. Starting an intravenous line, giving an injection, doing an assessment, she always managed to be busy to the extent that she didn’t have to spend any downtime with him.

  Which should be just fine, but wasn’t.

  They’d been living together almost a week now and she kept him at arm’s length. What was up with that? He was the one who’d been done wrong by her. He should be the one to keep distance between them. Instead...instead, he just felt confused. He’d come to Bean’s Creek for her, to reconcile his unresolved emotions for Brielle. He’d not resolved a thing and was more confused than ever about the frustrating woman.

  What he wasn’t confused about was his son. Justice was an amazing child. Smart, funny, full of spunk. Ross was in awe of the boy’s thought processes and how quickly his little mind worked. Being a constant part of Justice’s life was the one certainty throughout the week’s craziness. Doing what was right for his son would be his priority and if Brielle wished he’d just disappear, that was too bad.

  “Dr. Lane, we have a problem.” Cindy interrupted his thoughts. “Brielle just brought back a thirty-seven-week gestation female who is dilated to ten. The patient had been brought in because she was involved in a minor road traffic accident, but the shock must have sped up her labor. Brielle wanted me to get you now.”

  “Call Delivery and see if we can get her transferred.” Ross went to the bay he’d seen Brielle go into a few minutes before while he’d been finishing up the notes on his previous patient.

  “I know you want to push but try not to,” Brielle encouraged the woman, propping another pillow behind her. “Is that better?”

  “I have to push,” the woman cried, sweat dripping down her brow. “I hurt so bad.”

  The woman’s husband noticed Ross. “Are you the doctor? Can’t you do something? She’s hurting really bad. I think something’s wrong because she shouldn’t be hurting this bad. Is it because of the accident? It’s my fault for driving too fast; I was so scared about getting here on time.”

  “We’ll take good care of you.” Ross cleaned his hands then gloved up. “I need to see how far along you are.”

  The woman nodded her permission, her hands clamped tightly to the bed rail. Her husband was rubbing her arm, trying to soothe her.

  “She’s at ten,” Brielle warned, glancing at the fetal monitor as she continued to talk. “The baby’s head is crowning and another contraction is about to start.”

  Ross gently pulled back the covers to where he could check the woman and immediately his gaze went to Brielle’s. One more big contraction and they’d be delivering a baby.

  “Labor and Delivery won’t have a bed available for about half an hour,” Cindy informed them from where she peeked her head around the curtain.

  “We don’t have half an hour.” Even as Ross said the words the woman’s abdomen began to pull tightly with the contraction that Brielle had seen coming on the monitor.

  The woman began whimpering and her husband reminded her to breathe.

  “I need to push. I really need to push.”

  “Cindy, get some towels and everything else I’m going to need.” He glanced at Brielle, who stood at the head of the bed, keeping close tabs on the woman.

  “I have to push,” the woman cried. “I have to.”

  “Try to make it to your next contraction before pushing.”

  “I can’t.” Obviously she couldn’t because she began pushing and grunting with pain.

  “Breathe, honey. Don’t forget to breathe.”

  The woman’s eyes cut towards her husband and she growled something about his breathing, then she closed her eyes and cried out.

  “The head’s out,” Ross told them as he cleared the baby’s airway. “Stop pushing.”

  The contraction was coming to an end. The woman whimpered. Her husband moved to the end of the bed to where he could see what Ross saw. His face paled and he plopped down into the sole chair in the room.

  “Put your head between your knees and breathe,” Brielle told the man from where she was still attending her patient. “Don’t forget to breathe.”

  Ross glanced up just long enough to meet her eyes and grin at her comment. She started to smile back, caught herself, and glanced away, leaving him yet again feeling as if he had been the one to wrong her rather than the other way round.

  She’d denied him this. Seeing his child come into the world. Getting to be there during those first few moments of Justice’s life. Being there for the first five years of his life.

  “I want to push again. Please tell me I can push,” the woman begged.

  Ross glanced at the monitor, watched for the right time during her contraction for her pushing to be most effective. “Now. Push.”

  The woman bore down, pushing, crying, breathing in deep gasps.

  Ross caught the baby as the shoulders appeared then the remainder of the body rushed out of the birth canal. He did a quick visual assessment of the crying baby. “Apgar is ten. Perfect. Congratulations. You have a beautiful baby girl.”

  Ross put the baby on the woman’s stomach, clamped the umbilical cord, reached for the sterile scissors Brielle was offering him, and glanced towards the baby’s father. “Do you want to cut the cord?”

  The pale man shook his head. “You do it.”

  Ross had delivered quite a few babies during his residency, had cut the cord numerous times. But since he’d discovered he was a father, that a baby he’d help create had entered the world, he’d done neither.

  Who had been in the delivery room with Brielle? Who had coached her and comforted her? Who had cut Justice’s cord?

  Most likely her brother had, but it should have been him. He should have been at her side, feeding her ice chips, wiping her brow, reminding her to breathe.

  Justice had been two months premature. Had his birth been a complicated one? Had he been delivered vaginally or by Cesarean section?

  Had Brielle wished that he had been there or had she been grateful that he was out of her life?

  * * *

  Brielle watched Ross snip the umbilical cord and tried not to think about the fact that she’d just helped deliver a baby with him. Who would have believed that they’d work together to help bring a baby into the world? That she’d share the miracle of birth with him?

  The miracle of birth that she’d wanted to share with him when Justice had been born.

  That miracle she’d endured alone. The plan had been for Vann to be with her, but she’d gone into labor early at seven months and had needed to have an emergency Cesarean section.

  Cindy came into the room with warm towels, took one and swaddled the baby in it then handed the baby girl to her mother.

  “She’s so precious,” the woman said, obviously still in a great deal of pain but no longer caring. “Look, she’s beautiful.”

  The man had moved to the head of the bed and gazed down at his little girl in awe, then at his wife with more awe. “You were amazing, honey. Absolutely amazing.” He bent and kissed his wife’s cheek. “I love you.”

  Feeling as if she was intruding on a very private momen
t, Brielle’s eyes watered and she fought sniffling. This was how it should have been.

  Ross should have been at her side, holding her hand, helping her bring Justice into the world.

  He shouldn’t have been in Boston, living it up with some other woman, while she’d brought their son into the world alone, while she’d lain in the hospital bed watching her son be whisked away for immediate medical treatment because of his premature lungs.

  All the emotions she’d felt during those moments—the loneliness, the fear, the hatred—came rushing back, making her feel weak.

  She glanced toward where Ross worked, delivering the placenta. As if sensing her gaze, he glanced up, met her eyes, and seemed shocked by the animosity she aimed at him.

  “You should have been there,” she mouthed, unable to completely fight back the words. The new parents were so caught up in their new baby they failed to notice, but Cindy did.

  “Sorry to do this, but I have to get her to the nursery for her to get a thorough once-over,” Cindy said, gently taking the baby.

  “Do you mind if I do that and you stay and help Dr. Lane?” Brielle asked, her eyes pleading with her friend to co-operate. She couldn’t explain it, but she had to get out of this room, had to get away from Ross.

  “Sure,” Cindy agreed, glancing back and forth between her and Ross as if expecting to see something tangible. She wouldn’t, of course. The only thing tangible between Ross and herself was the wonderful little boy who was at preschool while his parents worked.

  * * *

  Ross congratulated the couple once more as Cindy rolled the woman’s bed out of the emergency department. Labor and Delivery had a bed available and she was being transferred for the obstetrician to examine her and to take over her care.

  He glanced around the emergency department, spotting Brielle at the nurses’ station, charting. He was glad that things had once again calmed down to a lull. It was only about an hour until shift change and he hoped things remained slow. Usually he did just fine, but today he felt exhausted. Perhaps not so much physically as emotionally.