“So am I, but not for the usual reasons.”
He couldn’t quite decide if that was regret or anger flickering at the edges of her words. Maybe a bit of both.
“He leave you broke?”
Her laugh was humorless. And her lack of verbal response told him this was not a topic currently open for discussion.
What kind of man left his wife and children this bad off?
If Maddie Kincaid had started having babies at nineteen, it was highly doubtful she had much in the way of education or skills. What she did have was three little kids. And more courage than most men he knew. But here she was, in a strange town, the only person she knew in it medically incarcerated for the foreseeable future. And even so, what on earth good would Ned McCallister do her? Not only was the ornery old man the least likely candidate to take on a woman with three small children, but there was no way Maddie and her kids could live in that shack of his.
What they had here was a crisis situation, no doubt about it. And Ryan had the sinking feeling that somehow, he had been the one appointed to handle said crisis.
From the kitchen emanated the aroma of pancakes and coffee, Ivy’s commanding voice chattering to the children. A few hardy birds, oblivious to the fact that summer was over, chirped and twittered outside the window as the sun burned off what was left of the storm. Needing to move, to be doing something, Ryan laid the baby down in the bassinet he’d retrieved from his office before the delivery. There had to be an answer here. One that wouldn’t make his head hurt.
“Your folks still around?”
After a moment, she said, “I already told you. There’s nobody.”
Don’t get overly involved with your patients. How many times had Ryan’s instructors drummed those words into his head? But if he didn’t believe healing was less about procedures and medicines and biological function, and more about giving a damn about the human beings who put themselves in his care, then those pieces of paper up on his wall in the other room meant squat.
Of course, not many people understood that, any more than they understood that personal sacrifice came with the territory.
Nor did Ryan understand quite what was happening here. Yes, he cared about his patients. All of them. Even old Miss Hightower, whose contrariness Ryan had long since attributed to a simple fear of growing old, of being alone. But this was different. Something about this one struck a personal chord way down deep, way past the day-to-day caring he dispensed, along with the occasional antibiotic and common sense advice, to his other patients.
It had been a long, long time since anything had shaken him up the way this situation was threatening to. He didn’t know what he was going to do about it—about Maddie—but he sure as hell knew he didn’t like it, not one little bit.
He patted the edge of the bassinet, twice, then started backing toward the doorway. “I think I’ll just go see what’s keeping Ivy in the kitchen, then go get myself cleaned up,” he said, wondering why the hell he felt so skittish in his own house.
Chapter 2
Maddie frowned at the doorway for some time after Dr. Logan’s departure. Despite his going on about her not leaving until he said it was okay, she was getting a real strong feeling he wasn’t all that comfortable with the idea. Although she guessed his reaction had less to do with her personally than it did with his just not being real used to having houseguests.
That’s what she was going to go with, anyway.
Crossing her arms over her wobbly belly, she surveyed her surroundings for the first time. Which provoked another strong feeling—that Dr. Logan was not someone overly concerned with his environment. Oh, she supposed the faded floral wallpaper, the coordinating murky drapes and dark-stained wood trim bordering the windows might’ve been okay, forty or fifty years ago. But if it hadn’t been for the sunlight glittering and dancing across the room, it would be downright depressing in here. And wasn’t that a shame? Far as she was concerned, everybody deserved a home that was cheerful and inviting. Especially someone as nice as Dr. Logan.
Not that it was any of her business.
On a sigh, Maddie carefully snuggled down on her side, watching her new daughter snoozing in the bassinet by the bed. She ached some from the couple of stitches she’d had to have, but not badly. Although she could feel the adrenaline that had been keeping her going the past couple of days quickly draining away. The baby scrunched up her tiny face in her sleep, pooching out her mouth, then giving one of those fluttery little gas smiles. Maddie smiled, too, skimming one finger over the itty-bitty furrowed brow. Maybe after a bath, Amy Rose would start looking more like a human baby—
Just like that, a fresh wave of worry washed over her. Maddie rolled onto her back, her hands pressed to her eyes, wishing like heck she could just let her mind go blank for a little while, even though she knew full well that things weren’t going to change simply because she didn’t want to think about them.
All right, so she supposed necessity sometimes made a person confuse hope with reality, but still, it had been silly counting on being able to stay with Jimmy’s Uncle Ned. But what on earth was she going to do? She had fifty dollars to her name, twenty-four of which would go for the motel room. There was little point in going back to Arkansas, since she no longer had a home or knew anybody who could help her there. Which meant she had to stay here in Haven.
If she did that, she could apply for assistance in Oklahoma…but who knew how long that would take to kick in? Or how much it would be?
Or, if she got a job, which she wouldn’t be able to do for a few weeks at least, what was she going to do with the kids? How could she possibly afford full-time day care for the two younger ones, part-time for Noah while he was in school, on the kind of salary she was likely to get?
She could maybe sell the car, get a few hundred bucks for it…but if she did that, how would she get around? Where were they going to live?
What if they tried to take her children away?
Maddie’s chest got all tight, like she couldn’t get enough air in her lungs: no matter how hard she tried to fit the pieces of what was left of her life together, they simply refused to go. For all intents and purposes, she and her babies were homeless.
Homeless.
Her hand flew to her mouth, but not fast enough to block the small cry of despair that escaped. It just seemed so blamed unfair. She wasn’t stupid. Or helpless. And heaven knew, she wasn’t lazy. Yet here she was, so far up the creek, she couldn’t even remember the feel of the paddle in her hands.
Everything that could be sold had been, to pay bills, to pay off Jimmy’s debts. All they had were the few things in the trunk of the car—some household items, a couple of the kids’ favorite toys, some odds and ends she couldn’t even recall at the moment—and the two mangy looking suitcases filled with clothes so worn, Goodwill probably wouldn’t even take them. Take them back.
A silent tear, then another, raced down her cheek: you know you’ve reached rock-bottom when you can’t even afford Wal-Mart.
Approaching footsteps and whispered conversation galvanized her into hurriedly wiping her eyes on the hem of the Downy-scented sheet, then gingerly pulling herself upright. Even when her hormones weren’t all goofy, Maddie was a person who cried at the drop of a hat, feeling things deeply as she did. Jimmy had hated it with a purple passion, but that’s just the way she was. A second or two later, Ivy ushered in the children, Noah grinning over a bedtray heaped with pancakes, sausage, eggs, milk, juice.
“Look what we brung you, Mama!”
Maddie’s vision went fuzzy all over again when she caught sight of her son’s great big old grin, how bright his eyes were. Up until a few months ago, he’d been as likely to get into mischief as the next little boy—too smart for his own good, she’d been inclined to think on those days when he’d seemed hell-bent on driving her completely