“Can I help you, doctor?”
David looked into the eyes of Rachel Milligan, the emergency room nurse who’d been at July’s side during the delivery. He glanced around the nursery. “What are you doing here? This isn’t the E.R.”
“Very perceptive.” Rachel smiled. “It was slow downstairs so they sent me up here to help out.”
He didn’t know Rachel all that well—she’d only started in the E.R. several months ago—but like everyone in Jackson Hole, he knew of the tragedy that had rocked her world a couple of years earlier. Since she never mentioned the murder of her husband and death of her baby, he hadn’t felt comfortable bringing up the subject.
“What brings you to the nursery?”
David glanced around. He hadn’t consciously planned to make a detour to this part of the hospital but now that he was here he might as well assuage his curiosity. “I stopped by to check on the Greer baby.”
“Of course.” Rachel smiled and he suddenly realized with her honey-blond hair and big blue eyes she was quite pretty. But it didn’t matter. There was no sizzle. Not like there was with July….
While she was retrieving the baby, David scrubbed his hands and put on a gown, wondering why he insisted on tormenting himself. For all he knew this little boy was someone else’s son.
“Here he is.”
David held out his arms and Rachel placed the baby in them. Wrapped securely in a blue blanket and wearing a cap of the same color, the infant didn’t cry, just stared at him with serious eyes.
The rush of emotion took David by surprise as did the powerful connection he felt to this tiny baby. He tightened his arms protectively around the child he’d brought into the world barely twenty-four hours earlier. “He’s so light.”
“He’s small,” Rachel agreed, “but doing really well. Once we get his bilirubin down a bit more, he’ll be able to go home.”
Dave gazed at the tiny face, searching for a family resemblance. Other than the dark hair—now covered—the baby could belong to anyone.
“I only wish the Simpson baby was doing as well.” Although they were alone in this part of the nursery, Rachel spoke in a low tone. “It looks like she’ll have to go home with the feeding tube. Kayla started crying this morning when the doctor told her.”
David had grown up with Kayla Simpson and her husband. This long-awaited pregnancy had been trouble-free, but their little girl had been born with several congenital anomalies. “Has Lexi been up to talk with them?”
Since joining the hospital staff five years ago, the social worker had proven to be a valuable member of the hospital team.
“She’ll be here once she’s done in the ICU.” A look of sadness swept across the RN’s face. “She’s talking to the Evans family about organ donation.”
The six months David had spent at Hennepin in Minneapolis had made him appreciate just how different it was to practice emergency medicine at a large trauma center versus a community hospital like this one. Here, other than tourists, most of the people he treated were ones he knew. Tim Evans, a gregarious high school baseball coach, belonged to his church. The guy had taken a turn too fast on his cycle and had cracked his un-helmeted head on the concrete.
“A life ends.” David dropped his gaze to the baby and stroked the soft cheek with his finger. “Another begins.”
When he looked up and saw the pain in Rachel’s eyes he realized the simple observation had opened an old wound. But before he could say another word, Rachel’s expression cleared and she lifted a hand in greeting. “Here’s Lexi now.”
David shifted his gaze to the social worker. Her smile never wavered, but her eyes filled with curiosity at the sight of the blue bundle in his arms.
Resisting the urge to shove the baby back into Rachel’s care, he met the social worker’s smile with one of his own. “Rachel mentioned the Simpson baby is going home with a feeding tube,” he said in lieu of a greeting. “Sounds like Kayla is taking the news hard.”
“This has been such a shock for both of them,” Lexi said. “But Kayla is a strong woman. She and John will weather this crisis. I’ll make sure they have the support they need.”
David nodded then casually handed the baby back to Rachel. “I have to get going.”
Lexi took a step forward and peered at the baby. “Who’s this little guy?”
“This is Adam Greer,” Rachel explained. “Our emergency room baby.”
“I thought Dr. Watson was following him.”
“He is,” David said, trying not to get defensive. After all, it was a logical assumption. “I don’t get a chance to deliver many babies, so this one is sort of special.”
Lexi lifted a brow. “How’s he doing?”
“Jaundiced, but he should be able to be released in a day or so,” David said.
“I wonder where he’ll go home to,” Rachel mused.
“What do you mean?” Lexi asked.
David’s ears pricked up.
“His mother had been living in the motel across the street from the Community Playhouse before she delivered,” Rachel said. “Hardly a suitable environment for a baby.”
“I agree with you,” Lexi said. “I’ll add post-discharge housing to my discussion list. After I finish here, I’m headed to her room.”
Chapter Five
July stared at the birth certificate application the nurse had left for her to fill out. Apparently she had to complete and turn it in before she was dismissed.
The section asking for her information had been easy. The field for the baby’s name was completed without hesitation. She’d had almost five months—since she’d first learned she was carrying a boy—to decide on his name. But it was the section asking for the father’s information that had stopped her cold.
How could she put David’s name on the application before she’d told him Adam was his son? Still, she couldn’t bring herself to write the word that had been on her own birth certificate.
She’d found hers the summer she’d turned thirteen, stuffed inside a drawer. Though her mother had always maintained her father could have been any one of a number of men, July had thought she was exaggerating. But when she’d seen “unknown” on that birth certificate, her dreams of a father one day appearing on a white horse to rescue her had disappeared like a puff of smoke.
July took a deep breath then let it out slowly. She picked up the pen, still unsure. Unlike her mother, there was no doubt in July’s mind about Adam’s father. But what if David got hold of the certificate? Or some staff member noticed his name on the application and mentioned it to him?
The form was still incomplete when the door creaked open and the social worker stuck her face in the room. “Can I come in?”
“Certainly,” July said.
“I’m sorry about the delay.” The brunette’s heels clacked loudly on the shiny linoleum as she hurried across the room. “I didn’t think I’d be so long.”
“No worries.” July dropped the pen, thankful for the diversion. “I’m still waiting for Dr. Fisher to stop by and release me.”
“What are you working on?” Lexi asked.
“The birth certificate application,” July said, trying not to sigh.
Lexi’s gaze dropped to the form, taking in the part still not completed.