Karen Rose Smith

The Texan's Happily-Ever-After


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Texas, where they both lived—about fifteen minutes from Lubbock, where this hospital was located—certain people had a higher gossip profile than others. Dr. Gibson was one of them.

      He’d asked his nanny, Eva, if she knew any particulars about the doctor, and he still remembered what Eva had said. “Her husband was a firefighter in New York City. He died saving others on September eleventh. Somehow, she picked up her life and finished her schooling, then returned here to be with her family. I can only imagine what she’s gone through, and it’s not something I ever want to even think about going through.”

      As Shep studied Raina Gibson now, he saw no signs of a tragic past—unless it had carved those tiny lines under her eyes and fostered the ever-present quiet and calm he sensed about her.

      She went to the counter, where she took an ear thermometer from its holder. When she returned to the table, she focused solely on Manuel. “This little guy has been through so much. I feel so sorry for him. Another ear infection is the last thing he needs.” She cut Shep a sideways glance. “Or you need. How are Joey and Roy?” She had treated eight-year-old Joey last year for a sinus infection that wouldn’t quit.

      “They’re good. They get upset when Manuel’s sick, though. Roy’s afraid he’ll lose more of his hearing.”

      Raina studied Manuel’s temperature and frowned. “It’s one hundred one.” Seconds later she was examining the toddler with the otoscope and then her stethoscope. Finally, she gave Shep her verdict. “I don’t like the looks of this, Mr. McGraw.”

      “Shep,” he corrected her, not for the first time. After all, Manuel had seen her at least three times over the past six months.

      Now she didn’t avoid his gaze, but looked him directly in the eyes. That was his first clue he wasn’t going to like what she had to say.

      “Okay, Shep.”

      That was the second clue. He had the feeling she’d used his first name to soften the blow.

      “I’ll give you a prescription again for Manuel, to get this cleared up. But I have to recommend that you let me do a procedure to put tubes in his ears. I’m afraid if we don’t, he’ll lose his hearing altogether.”

      Before he caught himself, Shep swore. “Sorry,” he mumbled. “I just don’t want to put him through anything else.” He picked up his son from the table, easily lifted him to his shoulder where Manuel snuggled against his collarbone.

      Raina’s gaze was sympathetic, her voice gentle. “I know what he’s dealt with already. But he’s in your care now, and I can see that you love him. You have to think beyond the procedure to when he’s three or four. You have to do what’s best for him long-term.”

      Shep patted Manuel’s back. Finally, he said, “Tell me what’s involved.”

      Taking a few steps closer, Raina stopped within arm’s reach. “The surgery’s called a myringotomy. I make a tiny incision in the eardrum and any fluid will be removed. Then I’ll insert a tympanostomy tube into the drum to keep the middle ear aerated. We’ll leave the tubes in from six months to several years.”

      She was close enough that Shep was aware of her body heat as well as his. “Will he have to have surgery to remove them again?”

      Tilting her head, she ran her hand over Manuel’s hair then brought her gaze back to Shep. “No. Eventually they’ll extrude from the eardrum and fall into the ear canal. I’ll be able to remove them during a routine office visit, or they’ll just fall out of his ears.”

      Shep could hardly imagine his small son in this big hospital, with medical personnel caring for him. “And you believe we have to do this?”

      “Shep, Manuel has already lost some hearing. You know that from the assessment I did. I’m afraid if we don’t do this, he’ll have speech problems, too.”

      “And the downside?”

      “I’ll give you a sheet of information and you can read about the pros and cons. As often as you’re bringing Manuel to me, I don’t think you have a choice.”

      “I hate hearing statements like that,” Shep muttered.

      Manuel began crying again and Shep rocked him back and forth. “How long will this operation take?” he asked over the baby’s heartbreaking distress.

      Raina leaned closer to him, as if in empathy…as if she might want to take Manuel into her arms again…as if she hated seeing a child cry.

      “Ten to fifteen minutes. It’s done on an outpatient basis. Manuel will be given anesthesia. Once he’s recovered from that, he can go home. Chances are good he’ll feel better right away, because that pressure in his ears will be released. He’s been suffering with this for too long. And so have you,” she added with an understanding Shep found almost unsettling.

      Again, their gazes locked and neither of them seemed to be able to look away. Shep didn’t know what was happening to him, but he didn’t like it. Every time he stared into those impossibly dark eyes of hers he felt unnerved, and if he was forced to admit it, aroused. That wasn’t what he should feel, standing in this cubicle with her while he held Manuel. He should feel grateful…nothing else.

      He must have been scowling from here into the next county, and she misinterpreted his expression. “I know you’re worried. Every parent worries when anything is wrong with his child. But try to anticipate a positive outcome. Think about Manuel not having any more painful earaches.”

      “The anesthesia bothers me,” he admitted.

      “You must trust the doctors here. Give us a chance to help him.”

      Shep was used to being in control. His history had taught him not to let anyone else run his life…let alone his son’s. “How soon do you want to do this?”

      “How about next week?”

      “That soon?”

      “You have a housekeeper, right?”

      Did she remember this kind of information about all of her patients? “Yes, Eva. She’ll be able to take care of Joey and Roy if I’m not home.”

      Obviously thinking that distracting him for a minute might be a good thing, Raina said, “Roy’s and Joey’s adoptions are final now, aren’t they?”

      “Yes, they are.”

      “And Manuel’s?”

      “I’ll be his dad in a few months, if all goes well.”

      “I admire what you’re doing, Mr. McGraw.”

      “Shep,” he reminded her again, suspecting she used his surname to distance herself. Why would she need to distance herself? Could she be as interested in him as he was in her? It had been a long time since he’d wanted to pursue a woman….

      “Shep,” she repeated, her cheeks coloring a little. “Giving these boys a home is so important. And you obviously care about them a great deal.”

      “I wouldn’t have decided to adopt them if I didn’t. The foster-care system—” He shook his head. “It’s not like it once was, but it’s hard for children to feel loved when they don’t know where they’ll be sleeping the next night.”

      After being abandoned by his mother, a series of foster homes, as well as a chief of police, had convinced Shep he wasn’t worthy of anyone’s love…until a kind rancher named Matt Forester had proven differently. Matt had been Shep’s role model and he was determined to give Roy, Joey and Manuel the same leg up in life that Matt had given him and his friend Cruz.

      Raina was looking at him thoughtfully, as if there were more to him than she’d ever realized. Her intense gaze made his interest in her reach a new level, and he had to tamp down a sudden urge to touch her face.

      He felt warm and uncomfortable, and now just wanted to get the prescription for Manuel and leave.