Caro Carson

Her Texas Rescue Doctor


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and I need to end this conversation now, because—”

      Because of patient confidentiality, of course. But he didn’t finish the sentence, because what had popped into his head was because you’re already too appealing. Her compassion toward a stranger only increased his regard for her.

      It didn’t matter. He had no interest in pursuing a woman when no relationship was possible. Flirting was something else he’d never quite understood. It was a waste of time to indulge an attraction to a woman who lived in another state, let alone a woman who built her life on the shaky ground of fame.

      The assistant furrowed her brow, determination stamped on her lovely face. “You can get her alone in a private room, but she won’t tell you anything. She has children. He told her he would kill them if she talks.”

      The kitchenette door started to open beside them. He stopped it with the palm of his hand. “A moment, please.” Without looking to see who it was, he pushed the door shut. All his attention was for the assistant. “You heard this? He actually said he’d kill her children?”

      “He was inches away from me on the other side of that curtain. I heard every word. He said if he goes to jail, he’ll kill the children as soon as he gets out.”

      She looked up at him with fear and worry—and something else. Hope. She was looking at him as if she hoped he would be able to fix this terrible situation. The desire to touch her again, to physically soothe her, was completely inappropriate. That wasn’t how a doctor helped.

      He crossed his arms over his chest. “Are you willing to relay this to the police?”

      “I hadn’t thought about police.”

      This protective streak was strong. He didn’t want her involved in what could become a volatile situation. “The injuries are already enough to trigger social services, and that will include removing the children from his custody. I appreciate everything you’ve told me, but you don’t have to do anything else.”

      “No, I’ll talk to the police. That poor woman. I couldn’t live with myself if I didn’t try to help.”

      “Not everyone feels the same. You’re very brave.” He felt a little sloppy bit of tenderness toward her, despite the way he was standing with his arms crossed over his chest, scowling at her. He cleared his throat and tried for a more neutral expression. “What did you say your name was?”

      “It’s Grace.”

      “Grace.” Of course it was. Grace was a blessing one did nothing to deserve, milost’ in his mother’s language. He’d done nothing to merit its presence in his emergency department today, but Grace was here, being an ally for a stranger in a dangerous situation.

      She tugged the hem of her soft sweater an inch lower. “Well, thanks for your time.”

      A brave princess had shown up in his ER after all—just not the one he’d expected.

      He liked this one much better. “Thank you for being so persistent. I apologize for being so curt. I can tell you’re worried, but you’ve done the right thing. I’ll take it from here.”

      “What about the police?”

      “If they need your statement, we’ll do that with as much privacy as possible, I promise. I don’t want you to risk anything if you don’t have to.”

      “Thank you.”

      Grace left, slipping easily around the nurse who was waiting outside the door.

      “Loretta asked me to tell you that we’re taking Mrs. Burns down to X-ray now. Room three is ready to go, if you could discharge him. The social worker is on her way over.”

      Alex would have to get his coffee later. As he headed down the hall toward room three, Grace was about twenty feet ahead of him on her way back to the curtained area. Her plain clothing allowed him to enjoy the feminine shape of her. He knew firsthand that her sweater felt very soft, and her slacks were tailored over the curve of her backside.

      The voice of Princess Picasso came shrieking down the hall. “You have got to be kidding me! Why is that woman getting an X-ray before me?”

      Grace broke into a jog.

      Alex shook his head as he entered room three. How could an angel who was so brave subject herself to a celebrity who was so selfish?

      * * *

      “Here’s your macchiato.” Grace hiked her tote bag a little higher on her shoulder and held up the cup of coffee she’d spent fifteen minutes locating, ordering, paying for and bringing to her sister.

      Sophia was talking on her phone, and waved her into silence. The part-skim half-caff macchiato with the shot of regular caramel syrup and sugar-free vanilla syrup which she’d just had to have was not quite as important as her phone call, apparently.

      Grace was tempted to place it on the bedside table and leave the table where it was, at the foot of the bed. Sophia would need her then. She’d have to interrupt her phone call with Deezee to ask Grace to roll the table closer.

      Immediately, Grace admonished herself for being such a baby. What kind of sister would even think of placing something where a person with a broken leg couldn’t reach it?

      “You asked to see me?” Dr. Gregory entered their little curtained cubicle and stood at the foot of Sophia’s gurney, next to Grace.

      Grace put the coffee down. She wasn’t normally klutzy, but she felt a little flutter now that Dr. Gregory was here, so it was better not to be holding a scalding-hot beverage.

      Really, she needed to squelch this little Clark Kent crush. The man was on the job, caring for a battered woman somewhere else. Caring for her own injured sister, too, and who knew how many other people who were sick and in pain. Yet she felt a little buzz of excitement that he was here, despite knowing that her sister shouldn’t have demanded to see him.

      “The doctor decided to finally show up,” Sophia said into her phone. “Yeah, tell me about it.”

      Grace stole a glance at Dr. Gregory. He pushed his glasses up with one knuckle. He had a perfectly neutral poker face in place, but Grace had the fanciful thought that the move meant he was ready for battle.

      Sophia took the phone away from her ear and pointed it at the doctor accusingly. “I heard them talking next door. You know what they said?”

      Grace held her breath. What had she missed while she’d been looking for gourmet coffee? The horrible Mr. Burns must have returned. Or perhaps Mrs. Burns had decided to unburden herself to a nurse, and Sophia had overheard everything.

      “Your janitor told another janitor to take the patient’s belongings to room three. That patient is getting a room? Seriously? When I’ve been waiting here with nothing but curtains all this time?”

      Grace interceded before Sophia could make a fool of herself. “Sophia, it’s okay.”

      “No, it is not. I was here first. She got taken for an X-ray before me, and now she gets a goddamned room before me.”

      “Sophie,” Grace begged quietly. “The cursing.”

      “Goddamn won’t even get you a PG-13 rating.” Sophie pinned the doctor with her glare. Really, it was a sneer. Grace hated to see Sophie sneering like that. If she could take a photo, make Sophie see...

      “I demand a private room, for obvious reasons.”

      “There are none available.” Dr. Gregory didn’t sound upset or intimidated by Sophia’s behavior at all, not like Grace was.

      Sophia must have heard that almost bored note in his voice, too, because she hesitated, just for a second, in the middle of ramping herself up for a good old-fashioned hissy fit. She gave it a go, anyway. “Even if I didn’t need extra privacy, which you know I do, I should have been next. I’ve been waiting longer.”

      “That’s not the way