Kitabı oku: «The Doctor's Sleigh Bell Proposal»

To Carol, I love you for being my sister—if not by birth, of my heart.

Praise for Susan Carlisle

‘Gripping, stirring, and emotionally touching... A perfect medical read!’

—Goodreads on His Best Friend’s Baby

‘This emotional love story kept me riveted. A truly satisfying, emotional read. Susan Carlisle’s work is like that. Check it out, you won’t be disappointed.’

—Goodreads on NYC Angels: The Wallflower’s Secret

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

Introduction

Dear Reader

Title Page

About the Author

Dedication

Praise

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

Extract

Copyright

CHAPTER ONE

SCREECHING VEHICLE BRAKES caught Dr. Chance Freeman’s attention. That would be his three new staff members arriving. They should have been here last night but bad weather had delayed them. He’d needed them desperately. His other team had left that morning and today’s clinic had been shorthanded and almost impossible to manage.

Chance glanced up from the baby Honduran boy he was examining and out the entrance of the canvas tent located in a clearing near a village. Beyond the long line of waiting patients, he saw a tall, twentyish woman jump down from the rear of the army surplus truck. She wore a tight green T-shirt, a bright yellow bandana round her neck and tan cargo pants that clung to her curves.

Great. High jungle fashion. He’d seen that before.

Shoulders hunched, he drew his lips into a tight line, stopping a long-suffering sound from escaping. Years ago he’d helped Alissa out of a Jeep. She’d believed in being well dressed in any environment as well. They had been newlyweds at the time. That had only lasted months.

Everything about this new staff member’s regal bearing screamed she didn’t belong in the stifling heat of a rain forest in Central America. He bet she wouldn’t last long. In his years of doing medical aid work he’d learned to recognize those who would stick out the tough conditions and long hours. His guess was that she wasn’t one of them. Everything about her screamed upper crust, big city. Pampered.

When had he become so cynical? He hadn’t even met her yet and he was already putting her in a slot. It wasn’t fair not to give her a chance just because she reminded him of his ex-wife. Still, he didn’t have the time, energy or inclination to coddle anyone, even if he desperately needed the help.

From under her wide-brimmed hat she scanned the area, her gaze coming around to lock with his. She tilted her head, shielding her eyes with a hand against the noonday sun. One of her two companions said something and she turned away.

Shaking off the spell, Chance returned to the child. He’d hardly looked down when there was a commotion outside. People were screaming and running. What was going on?

He didn’t have to wait long to find out. Two men carried another man into the tent. He was bleeding profusely around the face and neck area and down one arm. Quickly handing the baby to his mother, Chance cleared the exam table with his arm.

“Put him here. What happened?”

The men lifted the injured man onto the table. Despite Chance’s excellent Spanish, they were talking so fast he was having to work to understand them. Apparently, the man had been attacked by a jaguar while trying to save one of his goats.

A feminine voice asked from the end of the table, “What can I do to help?”

A fragrant scent floated in the air. He was tempted to lean forward and inhale. There was a marked difference between the feminine whiff and the odor of the sweaty bodies around him. Unfortunately, he would need to warn her not to wear perfume in this part of the world because it attracted unwanted insects.

Chance looked up into clear blue eyes that made him think of the pool of water at the bottom of his favorite waterfall. The woman he’d just seen climbing off the truck waited. She’d removed her hat and now he could clearly see a long blonde braid falling over a shoulder. With her fair coloring she would burn in no time in the hot Honduran sun.

“Start with cutting away the clothing.”

She stepped to the table. The paper on the table was soaked with blood. He glanced up to see her face blanch as she viewed the man who would be disfigured for life from the deep lacerations.

“Don’t faint on me,” Chance said through clenched teeth. “Michael, get over here.” He nodded toward the other table. “Go help there. Michael and I’ll handle this.”

She moved off to see about the case Michael was working on. Chance didn’t have time to ponder why someone in the medical profession couldn’t handle this type of injury.

He and Michael worked to piece the Honduran man back together. It may have been the largest number of stitches he’d ever put into a person. There would be a long recovery time.

“We need some help here,” Michael called as he finished suturing an area.

The woman stepped to the table again.

Chance glared at her. “I thought I told you—”

She gave him a determined and unwavering look. “I’ve got this.” She turned to Michael. “What do you need?”

“Bandage this hand,” he said.

“I’ll take care of it.” The words were full of confidence as fingers tipped in hot pink picked up the saline and four-by-fours sitting on the table and began cleaning around the area.

Chance had to stop himself from rolling his eyes. That manicure wouldn’t last long here and there wouldn’t be another forthcoming either. He moved on to the next laceration. As he looked at the man’s arm Chance kept a watchful eye on the new staff member. With the efficiency of few he’d seen, she’d wrapped and secured the dressing and moved on the next spot.

At least she seemed to have recovered from whatever her earlier issue had been. He was used to temporary help, but he still wanted quality.

Many who came to help with the Traveling Clinic were filled with good intentions and the idealism of saving the world but didn’t have the skills or common sense required to work in such primitive settings. The clinic served the medical issues in the small villages outside of La Ceiba. Making it even more difficult was that the locals were often hesitant about asking for help.

A jaguar attack wasn’t the clinic’s normal kind of injury but they did see a number of severe wounds from accidents. He needed staff that could handle the unexpected and often gruesome. If Chance wasn’t such a sceptic he’d have given the new woman points for her recovery but he’d been doing this type of work for far too long. Had seen staff come and go.

He was familiar with people who left. His mother had done it when he’d been a child. He’d been seven when she’d just not been there. His father was a world-renowned surgeon and had been gone much of the time. With his mother’s absence Chance had starting acting out in an effort to keep his father’s attention, even to the point of stealing. That had got him sent to boarding school. Even in that restrictive environment Chance had pushed back.

In a stern voice the headmaster had said, “It’s time for you to decide if you’re going to amount to anything in your life. Right now I’d be surprised if you do.”

He was the one man in Chance’s life who had taken a real interest in a scared and angry boy. The grizzled and gruff headmaster had believed in him, had taken time to listen. Unlike his father. Chance had wanted to make the headmaster proud and had made a change after that conversation. He’d focused on his studies. Dedicated his life to helping others. But in the area of personal relationships he had failed miserably over and over to the point he had long ago given up. Those, apparently, he wasn’t capable of having.

Why were dark memories invading now? Maybe because the new woman reminded him so much of his ex-wife, Alissa, whose defection always made him think of his mother. Two females who had rejected him. He’d moved past all that long ago. His worry now was how to keep the clinic open. Pondering old history did nothing to help with the present problem.

He watched the new woman as he changed gloves. Her movements were confident now. Marco, a local man who served as clerk, translator, and gofer for the clinic, entered the tent with a distressed look on his face. He hurried to her and said in his heavily accented voice, “I know not where you are. Please not leave again without telling. Much danger here. Not get lost.”

She looked at him. “I’m sorry. I saw the emergency and thought I should come help.”

“It’s okay, Marco. I’ll explain. See to the other two,” Chance said to the short, sturdy man.

“Sí, Dr. Chance.” Marco nodded and hurried out of the clinic.

Chance gave her a pointed look. “Please don’t leave the clinic area until we’ve talked.”

Her chin went down and she nodded. “I understand. By the way, my name is Cox. Dr. Ellen Cox. Like Bond. James Bond.” She flashed him a grin.

She was a cheeky little thing. He wasn’t certain he appreciated that.

* * *

He finished up with the injured man and sent him off in a truck to the hospital in La Ceiba. He would check in on him when they got back to town. Chance cleaned up and moved on to his next patient, who was an older woman with an infected bug bite. It would be necessary to drain it.

Before starting the procedure, he stepped to the table next to his, where a five-year-old girl sat. Digging into his pants pocket, he pulled out a peppermint and handed the piece of candy to her. She removed the clear plastic cover and plopped it into her mouth, giving Chance a wide, toothy grin. He’d given a child a second of happiness. He just wished he could make more of a difference. What he did wasn’t enough.

As Chance returned to his patient, Ellen joined him.

Since she was so enthusiastic he’d let her see to the woman as he watched. “We’re going to need a suture kit, a box of four-by-fours and bandages. Supplies are in the van.” He gestured toward the beat-up vehicle that had been parked partially under the tent so that the back end was protected from the daily afternoon rain and could function as a portable storage room. Chance waited as she hurried after the supplies.

Returning to his side, she placed the kit on the bed and a bottle of saline water as well. “I’ll get a pan.” She was gone again.

Chance spoke to his patient in Spanish, reassuring her that she would be fine and that what he was going to do wouldn’t take too long. A few moments later Ellen was back with the pan and plastic gloves for herself.

He helped the older woman lay back on the table.

Ellen gave the patient a reassuring pat on the shoulder and then turned her attention to opening the suture kit, placing it where he could easily reach the contents. Taking the plastic gloves off the top, he pulled them on. She did the same with hers. Removing the blue sterile paper sheets, she placed them on her patient’s leg around and under the inflamed area.

Chance handed her the scalpel. She took it without question.

Michael called, “Chance, you got a second to look at this?”

“Go ahead. I can handle this,” Ellen said.

Chance hesitated then nodded. He liked to oversee the new staff for a week or so just to make sure they understood the locals and the type of work they were doing but she should be able to handle a simple case.

The patient’s eyes had grown wide when he’d left. Ellen moved to his side of the table and began speaking to her in a mix that was more English than Spanish. As she distracted the woman by having her pay attention to what she was saying instead of what she was doing, the woman calmed down to the point of smiling a few times.

Chance glanced Ellen’s way now and then to see how she was doing. By the time he returned the patient was bandaged and ready to leave. Ellen had done a good job.

Chance moved on to the next person waiting. She assisted him. They were just finishing when Marco returned with the two other new staff members. He introduced the man as Pete Ortiz and the woman as Karen Johnson, both nurses. Ellen moved off across the short aisle of tables to help Chance’s colleague, Michael Lange. Because Pete spoke fluent Spanish, Chance sent him to do triage and Karen stayed to help him.

Working in Honduras on and off for eight years had only made Chance see the needs here grow. There had been a time he’d thought he might really make a difference but the people needed real clinics, brick-and-mortar buildings with dedicated doctors, not just a few coming in and out every few weeks.

He loved this country—the weather, which he much preferred to the cold of the north, the coast. Scuba diving was one of his greatest day-off hobbies. Walking through a rain forest and being surprised by a waterfall was amazing. But most of all he liked the open, generous smiles of the people. In Honduras he had found home.

The Traveling Clinic had been his idea years ago and he’d worked long and hard to gain funding for the idea. The clinic was a successful concept but money was forever a problem. Again tomorrow the clinic would be stopping at a different village and the locals would line up. Some would wait all day for care. The day would start just as this one had. Never enough, and more left to do.

A couple of times during the afternoon hours the sound of laughter reached his ears. Michael and the new doctor seemed to enjoy working together. That was what he’d thought when his wife had spent so much time helping his clinic colleague, Jim. They had gotten along so well she’d returned to the States with him.

The sun was only touching the tops of the trees by the time Chance saw his last patient. Michael was finishing up with his as well. Now all that was left was to break down the clinic, load the trucks, and head for a hot shower. He leaned up against the nearest exam table, finishing a note on his patient’s chart.

“Doctor, if you’ll excuse me, I need to fold this exam table.” Ellen gave him a pointed look as she flipped her hair back, implying he needed to move.

She reminded him of a teenager, looked no older than a fresh-out-of-high-school girl, even though she must be at least twenty-eight to his tired forty-one-year-old eyes. Breaking down the clinic was the job of Marco and the local men he’d hired to help him. As much as Chance was amazed by her zeal, she needed to understand a few things about the culture and dangers here. “Marco and his men will take care of that.”

“I can get—”

He lowered his voice. “I’m sure you can but they take their jobs and positions seriously. I don’t want them to feel insulted.”

“Oh. I didn’t realize.” She stopped what she was doing.

“Now you do. You need to tread more carefully, Dr. Cox. There are cultural and safety issues you should be aware of before you go off willy-nilly. Don’t be reckless. This isn’t Los Angeles, New York or wherever you are from.”

A flash of something in her eyes he couldn’t put a name to came and went before she said, “New York.”

He looked at her a second. “There’re not only animals in the jungle that could hurt you, as you saw today, but there’s a major issue with drug traders. Neither play around or allow second chances. You should never go out alone. Even in the villages or clinic compound, always have someone with you.”

“Are you trying to scare me?”

Did she think this was some exotic vacation spot? “No, I’m trying to keep you out of harm’s way.” He looked straight at her. “If you don’t follow the rules, you don’t stay around here long.”

Her lips tightened as she glanced toward the men working to break down the clinic. “I’m sorry I upset Marco. I saw the number of people waiting and thought I should get to work.”

“You would be no good to them if you get hurt.”

“Your point is taken.”

“Chance,” Michael called.

“Just remember what I said.” He walked away to join Michael beside the supply van.

Half an hour later the tent was down and everything stowed in the vehicles. Now their party was bumping along the narrow dirt road toward the coast. Chance rode in the supply van, with one of the locals driving, while Michael was a passenger in the truck. The others rode in the rear of it. The hour-long trip to the resort might be the toughest part of the day. As the bird flew, the distance wasn’t far; however, the roads were so rough and winding it seemed to take forever to make the return drive. Chance usually tried to sleep.

For some reason his thoughts went to the young doctor traveling in the truck behind him. She’d worked hard, doing her share and some more. There was no way she was napping while sitting on that hard metal bench. If she complained, he would point out that the ride was just part of doing this type of medical work. Anyone who stayed with it learned to accept the hardship.

* * *

Ellen’s head bumped against one of the support frames running around the bed of the truck. Taking a nap was almost impossible. She pulled a jacket out of her duffel bag and folded it up then stuffed it between her head and the unforgiving metal.

Looking out through the slats, she watched the fascinating countryside go by. The vegetation grew rich and huge. Some of the leaves were the size of an umbrella. And so green. It looked impossible to walk through. She’d never seen anything like it. The flowers were such vivid colors. A pink hibiscus always caught her attention.

As the plane had been coming in that morning she’d looked down on the coastline of the county. The pristine white sand against the blue-green of the water had made her want to experience it for herself. It was a beautiful country. She already loved it.

Completely different from New York, the city of buildings and lights. She’d worked at an inner-city clinic that saw pregnant teenagers and babies with colds. It was nothing compared to the type of patients and conditions she’d experienced today. It had been exhilarating. Except for that one moment when she’d looked at that man and all the memories of her mother caught in the car had come flooding back.

The Traveling Clinic cared for people who truly needed it. These people had no other way of getting medical care. They hadn’t made poor life choices like the drug addicts and drunks in the city. Here they had nothing, and the clinic offered them something they desperately needed. And they still had a bright smile to share.

The type of work she’d done today was why she’d become a doctor. As a child, a car accident had killed her mother and had left Ellen in the hospital for weeks. There she’d learned the importance of good medical care. The staff had loved and given special attention to the little girl who had lost so much. Ellen had determined then that she wanted to work in the medical field, do for people what had been done for her.

The only sticking point had been her father. As a Manhattan socialite and the only child of an overprotective father, she’d worked at being taken seriously when she’d announced she was going to medical school. Ellen desired to do more than chair committees and plan fancy fund-raisers. She’d wanted to personally make a difference, get to know the people she was helping.

When Ellen had started practicing at the inner-city clinic her father had pitched a fit, saying it was too risky and he didn’t want her to work there.

“You’re acting like your mother. She went in head first and then thought,” he’d said more than once to her as she’d been growing up.

Ellen had told him he had no choice. A number of times she’d noticed a man hanging around when she’d come and gone from the clinic. Some days later she’d found out he had been hired by her father to watch over her because he’d been concerned about her safety.

A few weeks later she’d heard Dr. Freeman speak with such passion about his work in Honduras that she had been hooked. She wanted to make that kind of difference, offer that kind of care. The next day she’d applied to join his staff. It had taken her six months but she was finally here.

After her decision to come to Honduras, she’d thought of not telling her father but she loved him too much to just disappear. Instead, she’d told him she was going to Honduras but not specifically where she would be, fearing he’d send someone to watch over her. Again he’d accused her of not thinking it through. She’d assured him she had. For once she wanted to do something on her own, free from her father’s influence.

Her head bounced again. The picture of Dr. Freeman’s displeased look when she’d frozen came to mind. Her lips formed a wry smile. Later she had seen a small measure of respect in his eyes.

The wheels squealed to a painful halt. Ellen looked out the end of the truck to see a gorgeously groomed area. Where were they? The others filed off the vehicle and she brought up the rear. With her feet on the ground, she looked around. It appeared as if they were in the back parking lot of a resort.

A couple of Honduran helpers pulled her bag, along with Pete’s and Karen’s, down from the truck. She hadn’t met her fellow staff members until the time had come to board the flight to Honduras. Pete was a nice guy who was looking for a change after a bad marriage and Karen was a middle-aged woman who thought working with the clinic would be a nice way to see a new country. Ellen had liked them both immediately.

Their group was joined by the two doctors. She’d enjoyed working with Michael Lange. He seemed fun and laid back. The same couldn’t be said about Dr. Freeman. From what she could tell, he was an excellent doctor. Everything she’d heard about him had been glowing. But on the Mr. Congeniality scale he was pretty low. He could work on his warm welcomes. He hadn’t even taken the time to offer his name.

After hearing him speak Ellen had expected him to have less of a crusty personality. He acted as if he’d seen too much and couldn’t leave it behind. He was as strikingly handsome as she remembered. With thick, dark, wavy hair with a touch of white at the temples that gave him an air of authority, he was someone who held her attention. Even when she hadn’t been working directly with him she had been conscious of where he’d been in the tent. She generally didn’t have this type of reaction to a man.

“I’ll show Ellen to her hut,” Michael said.

“No, she’s next to me,” Chance said. “You see to, uh, Pete and...” He looked at the other nurse. “It’s Karen, isn’t it?”

“That’s correct.” Karen picked up her bag.

“Okay. Dinner is at seven in the private dining room behind the main one.” Dr. Freeman headed toward a dirt path between two low palmetto plants. There was a small wooden sign there giving arrowed directions to different areas of the resort. “Coming, Dr. Cox? I’ve got a call to make to the States before it gets too late.”

He’d not offered to carry her luggage. If he thought she couldn’t or wouldn’t carry her own bag, he had another thought coming. Grabbing her duffel, she pulled the strap over her shoulder and hurried after him. The man really was egotistical.

She followed him along a curving path through groomed vegetation beneath trees filled with blue and yellow chattering macaws. She lagged behind when she became caught up in her surroundings. The place was jaw-dropping beautiful. Completely different from any place she’d ever seen.

“Dr. Cox.” The exasperation in the doctor’s voice reminded her of a father talking to a distracted child. She didn’t like it.

“It’s Ellen.”

“Come along, Ellen. I still have work to do tonight.” He took long strides forward.

From what she could tell, he had more than put in a day’s worth of work. What could he possibly need to do tonight? “Coming, sir.”

He stopped and glared down his nose at her. “The sir isn’t necessary.”

“I just thought that since you were acting like a general I should speak to you as such.”

“Ellen, you’ll find I’m not known for my sense of humor.” He continued on down the path as if he didn’t care if she followed him or not.

“I’m sure you’re not,” she murmured. Hefting her bag strap more securely over her shoulder, she focused on catching up. They moved farther into the landscape until they came out in a small grassy opening where two huts stood with only a huge banyan tree separating them. Each had a thatched roof and a dark-stained wooden porch with what looked like comfortable chairs with bright floral pillows.

The space was perfect as a romantic getaway. “This is amazing. I expected to live in a tent and have to use a bathhouse.”

“You have a top-of-the-line bath. We work hard and the board believes the least it can do is provide a nice place to stay. The resort gives us a deal.” Dr. Freeman pointed to the structure on the left. “That hut is yours. Follow the signs around to the dining room. If you need something, call zero on the phone.” With that he headed toward the other hut.

Well, she wouldn’t be counting on him to be the perfect neighbor.

Ellen climbed the three steps to the main door. There was a hammock hanging from one post to another. The living arrangements weren’t what she’d expected but she wasn’t going to complain.

She swung the door open and entered. Her eyes widened. She sucked in a breath of pleasure. Talk about going from one extreme to another. As rough as the working conditions were, the living quarters were luxurious. She’d lived well in New York but even by those standards this was a nice living space.

The floor plan consisted of an open room with a sitting area on one side and the bed on the other. The ceiling was high with a slow-moving fan that encouraged a breeze through the slated windows. A gleaming wood floor stretched the length of the room. The only area of it that was covered was in the sitting area, where two chairs and a settee created a cozy group. A large bright rug of red, greens and yellows punctuated the space.