MORIAH stirred when Henri thrashed in his sleep. She raised her head and glanced down at him. He was another star patient, never once asking for a drop of pain medicine. She knew his fingers had to hurt, but every time she’d asked, he’d denied being in pain.
Still, she’d kept a few doses of morphine for him and had even gone as far as to give him some against his will. At least the medication had helped him sleep for almost six hours. Since then, though, he’d refused any more.
The longer she spent time with him, the more he reminded her of her nephew Mitch. The identical look of disdain when she’d tried to convince him to finish all his food prior to eating dessert. The way he slept, with the utter relaxation of the innocent. Heck, she could imagine the boys playing together, having a great time despite their cultural differences. Henri’s English was surprisingly good.
With a yawn she stood and stretched her aching muscles. Sleeping in the chair had given her a few more kinks to work out. At least her ankle was nearly back to normal. It didn’t hurt at all, unless she twisted it a certain way.
Borrowing Henri’s bathroom, she washed up and tried to finger-comb her hair. The hour was still early, but she knew Blake would make rounds soon.
When he arrived, she greeted him with a wide smile, but her stomach sank when he remained totally professional, asking her questions about Henri’s care as if she really were only a patient’s family member instead of the woman he’d taken to bed and made love to.
She narrowed her gaze in annoyance. He was doing it again, distancing himself from her. She knew it, yet she was helpless to stop it.
“How is Henri doing?”
“Great. He only took one dose of morphine, though. He’s refused to take any more,” Moriah told him.
“Hmm. Well, as long as the pain doesn’t interfere with his sleep, he’ll be fine.” Blake kept his gaze trained on the chart. “I’m glad to see his rash has abated.”
“Me, too.” Moriah frowned. This was ridiculous. Hadn’t they gotten past this? He hadn’t acted like this in the taxi yesterday. He’d kissed her hand then pulled her closer for a proper kiss. What was wrong with him? “I thought I’d check in with George to see if he needs any help, since Henri’s doing so well. I don’t think Henri will need constant care all day. I can help cover lunches and breaks as needed.”
“I’m sure George will appreciate the help.” When Blake finally met her gaze, his was impersonally remote. “I’ll need you to change the dressing on Henri’s fingers at seven o’clock tonight.”
“I will.” Perplexed, she watched him walk away. What on earth had changed? Clearly, something must be bothering him. But she was darned if she could decipher what it was. She hadn’t done anything, except take care of Henri.
Moriah decided she’d corner Blake later and pressure him into telling her what was wrong. But for now she focused her attention on her patient.
Henri reassured her he was fine, urging her to leave him alone for a while. After promising him she’d return later, she headed down to the first-floor operating suites.
She met George leaving as she was on her way in. “Moriah!” he greeted her. “Do you have a minute?”
“Sure. In fact, I was just coming down to offer my services. What’s up?”
“One of the locals called to let me know there’s another potential patient asking to be seen. I’d like you to come and examine her with me.” George turned and led the way to the clinic. “She’s a sixteen-year-old girl, and may feel more comfortable with a female physician.”
“No problem.” Moriah hurried to keep up with him. “Any idea what sort of surgery she needs?”
“Nope.” George opened the door for her and gestured for her to go through. “But we’ll find out soon enough. She’s waiting for us in room ten.”
Moriah opened the door to clinic room ten, to see a young girl holding a hand over her mouth, seated next to an older man. The man stood the moment they entered.
“Hello.” He spoke slowly in Spanish. “My name is Theo and this is my daughter, Marita. We have walked for the past six days, from dawn to sundown, to come here. We’d like to ask if you could please fix Marita’s face.”
Moriah’s jaw dropped. Good grief, the two of them had actually walked for six whole days just to get here? Talk about persistence. She summoned a smile for the girl. “Hello, Marita. What seems to be the problem?” She reached up to draw the girl’s hand from her face, but the girl resisted, shaking and ducking her head.
“I’m sorry, Marita is shy about you seeing it.” Theo’s brow furrowed. “Marita has had this defect since birth. But she is growing worse now that she is older. She has refused to leave the house, not wanting anyone to see her.” He sent them a beseeching look. “Please, help her. Marita is very depressed. Two months ago she tried to take her own life.”
This was serious. Moriah stepped forward, speaking slowly to Marita. “I’m a doctor, Marita. Please, let me see your mouth. Dr Litmann here is a surgeon, it’s possible he can help you.”
Marita closed her eyes and dropped her hand, revealing one of the most grotesque cases of cleft lip Moriah had ever seen. Of course, most cases didn’t go untreated for as long as Marita’s had. George took one look at her and sighed. “There’s no way we can leave her like this. I know the schedule is full but we’ll find a way to fit her in.”
“Gracias.” Theo smiled in relief and wrapped his arm around his daughter’s shoulders. “We are so grateful. Gracias.”
Moriah glanced at George. “Today is my day off, but if you can find a surgeon, I’ll do the anesthesia for her procedure.”
“Great. Thanks, Moriah.” George hurried off while Moriah finished examining Marita. Thankfully, the girl was in fairly good health, if you didn’t count severe depression.
“Have you eaten anything today?” she asked. When Marita hesitated and glanced at her father, Moriah added, “It’s important for me to know if there is food in your stomach. If you have eaten, I just need to know when. Either way, you will still have surgery, I promise.”
Marita’s hand was back over her mouth and it was several long seconds before she slowly shook her head.
“When we left home six days ago, we had some food, but it’s all gone now. We have not eaten since yesterday,” Theo finally explained.
Oh, Lord. Moriah’s throat thickened with emotion. How completely amazing that they’d walked six days for the possibility of surgery. Would any American do something like that? She couldn’t imagine it. Taking a slow, deep breath, she forced a smile. “Well, that’s good news for you, Marita. Now we can operate on your lip sooner.” She glanced at the girl’s father. “I think you must be hungry. After I get Marita settled in, we’ll find something for you.”
“Don’t worry about me. Take care of my daughter.”
His concern for his daughter was sweet. Theo was obviously a great father.
George returned with Blake. He barely spared her a glance, but instantly smiled warmly at their shy patient. “Hello, Marita. My name is Dr Powers. Dr Litmann was telling me about your need for surgery. May I see?”
Once again Marita resisted, until her father convinced her to co-operate. She closed her eyes and dropped her hand, as if she could only bear for them to look if she couldn’t see them. Blake immediately turned to George. “I’m more than willing to do her surgery, if we have an open room.”
“OR suite four is occupied until three o’clock this afternoon, then it’s free. I’ve already made arrangements to use the room then.”
“Great.” Blake nodded. “I’ll plan on it.”
She didn’t have any time to discuss what was bothering Blake, because once they’d gotten Marita and her father settled into a patient room, she ended up returning to the OR to cover another anesthesiologist for a break. By the time she was finished, it was time to go back and check on Henri, then start covering for lunches.
Moriah remained busy up until three o’clock when she was scheduled to do Marita’s case with Blake. As she spoke to the girl, explaining what she was going to do, she was aware of Blake entering the room. She concentrated on placing Marita’s IV, then gave her a small dose of sedative to help her relax.
“I’ll have her ready to go in a few minutes,” Moriah called out to Blake. “Just let me get her intubated.”
“No problem.” Blake didn’t seem annoyed with the minor delay and Moriah wondered if she’d imagined his cool response earlier. Maybe she had been imagining things. They were both exhausted from the long hours they were keeping. They’d gotten close in the taxi, maybe all they needed was a little downtime together. She quickly placed Marita’s breathing tube, using the girl’s nasal passage so Blake could repair her lip, then connected her to the anesthesia machine.
“I’m all set here.” Moriah quickly jotted down Marita’s initial set of vital signs.
One of the scrub nurses came over to place sterile drapes over Marita’s head and chest, leaving an open area where only her mouth could be seen. Once the area was prepped, Blake approached. Because of the site of the surgery and her position at the head of the bed, they would have to work in close physical proximity.
Blake didn’t seem to be holding back from her as they worked over Marita. They immediately fell into the same rhythm they’d had before Blake had started acting so strangely. Thankfully, the repair of the cleft lip didn’t take very long, although just as Blake was finishing, the anesthesia machine indicated the gas tank was empty, when she knew there should be a good half-tank left.
“There’s a malfunction here,” Moriah told him. She lightly tapped the gauges, trying to get the needle to read properly. “I’ll need to either switch machines or begin the reversal process.”
“Give her a bolus of Versed to hold her, then go ahead and take her off the anesthesia machine,” Blake suggested. “This is my last suture.”
Moriah did as he’d recommended, then carefully monitored Marita after disconnecting her from the machine. “The gauge on the machine is broken, I think. We’ll have to let the local doctors know.”
“At least it lasted long enough to finish her surgery,” was Blake’s response. “She’s all set.”
“I’ll take her over to the PACU, then.” She quickly extubated the girl, then wheeled the gurney through the hall. In the PACU, Greta took a set of vital signs, then frowned.
“She’s not breathing very well, Dr Howe.”
Moriah frowned. “Is she waking up?”
Greta shook her head. “No.”
Had she given the girl too much anesthesia? The machine could have been malfunctioning for minutes before she’d realized what had happened. Quickly, she came over and grabbed the ambu-bag. Placing the oxygen mask over Marita’s face, she gave several breaths.
“Pulse ox better, up to 89 per cent,” Greta informed her.
“Come on, Marita. Wake up,” Moriah urged.
She gave several more breaths, then Marita began to thrash her head back and forth. Sighing in relief, Moriah removed the ambu-bag.
Marita’s eyelids fluttered open, a sight Moriah had rarely been so thankful to see.
“Whew, that was close.” Moriah turned toward Greta. “I’m going to put a note on the malfunctioning anesthesia machine, so this doesn’t happen to someone else.”
She stayed by Marita’s bedside until the girl was fully recovered from her overdose of anesthesia. Finally, Moriah felt comfortable leaving. The rest of her evening was free.
And so was Blake’s.
Moriah already knew exactly what she wanted to do. First, she’d check on Henri. Once she’d changed his hand dressing, she’d surprise Blake in his room. Not only had he given his all to his patients, he’d taken care of her more than once, with her injured ankle, then when she’d been ill. Heck, it was about time she did something for him.
A picnic? Maybe. She warmed to the idea, wondering what it would take to convince the hotel to make a couple of meals to go. Surely, once she and Blake were alone, they’d have plenty of time to talk. Or not to talk.
She’d wear something nice and slinky, just in case he wasn’t clear on the message she wanted to send. No mixed signals allowed. Moriah grinned.
She couldn’t wait to see the expression on his face.
Hours later, Moriah was finally ready. She held a large paper bag of food in one hand and smoothed down her sundress with the other. She hadn’t brought anything sexy with her to Peru, but at least the dress was nice. And she wasn’t wearing a stitch of underwear beneath.
Gathering her courage, she lifted a hand and knocked on Blake’s door. When he didn’t answer right away, she tapped her foot nervously.
Finally the door opened. Blake looked surprised to see her. “What is it? Something wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong. I brought a picnic for us.” She lifted the bag and patted the blanket folded over her arm. “I hope you’re hungry.”
“Ah—actually, I’ve already eaten.” Blake stood in the doorway, looking distinctly uncomfortable.
“That’s all right, I’m not all that hungry for food myself,” Moriah confessed. She leaned closer, standing on tiptoe to brush his jaw with a kiss. “A private party without food is just as good.”
To her surprise, Blake grabbed her shoulders to prevent her from coming closer. “This isn’t a good idea.”
She frowned. “Why not? I thought we had an understanding, an agreement that this is a no-strings relationship.”
“Really? Funny, I can’t seem to recall that conversation.” Blake’s hands tightened momentarily, then relaxed. “Moriah, who are you trying to kid? I saw you with Rasha’s baby and with Henri. You’re not a no-strings type of woman.”
She wasn’t, and the truth was hard to deny. Still, she kept her tone light. “Would a relationship with me be so bad?”
“No. Yes. I mean—Damn.” Blake dropped her shoulders and scrubbed his hands over his face. “I can’t do this.”
“What?”
“Keep lying to you. Or to myself.”
A trickle of unease slithered down her spine. “Lying?”
“Lying to each other, as if this is going to work.” His expression was pained. “I care about you, Moriah. For God’s sake, I’m falling in love with you.”
She felt her mouth drop open.
Had he really said he was falling in love with her? Tentative hope flared. “Really?”
“Yes, but you need to understand—I can’t change who I am. I’m falling for you, but I still don’t want a family.”
Her brief feeling of euphoria faded. “You can’t mean that.”
“I do. You’re the one who told me adults make choices. What if this is the choice I’ve made? Is it so awful just because it happens to be one you don’t agree with?” When she opened her mouth to interrupt him, he raised a hand. “Do you see that as selfish? I think it’s being realistic. Some people aren’t the family type, they can’t cope with it. My parents were a prime example.”
His parents weren’t worth much, in her opinion, but she held her tongue about that. “Children don’t have to be a burden, Blake.”
“Yet they are a burden, by their nature. They need to be loved, clothed, fed, housed and taken care of. Some people welcome that burden, others don’t. Some people simply don’t want families, Moriah. And I’m one of them.” He stepped back, widening the distance between them. “If you can live with that part of me, then you’re welcome to come in.”
She stared at him, unable to believe he’d tossed her an ultimatum. He loved her and she loved him, but she couldn’t accept what he was saying. No matter how badly she wanted him, she couldn’t make herself step over the threshold. “Blake, I know you’ve lived most of your life alone. But I can’t change who I am either. I come from a large family. I’ve always dreamed of having children.” She shook her head. “I can’t give up my dreams. Especially since I don’t believe you’re anything like your parents.”
“You might not like it, but I am very much like my parents. I spent time with your family, Moriah. There were so many people, everyone talking at the same time with no one listening. I couldn’t wait to leave. With every minute that passed, I knew I didn’t belong there.”
Her eyes widened. She’d had no idea he’d felt like that. And for the life of her she couldn’t think of a suitable response.
“You have no idea how much I wish I could change for you. But I can’t.”
Slowly, quietly, giving her every chance to stop him, he closed the door.
Her knees threatened to buckle and she leaned against the wall for support. The bag of food slipped from her fingers to land on the floor with a thud.
She had so wanted to believe there was the slenderest hope of having a future with him.
But Blake had just convinced her there wasn’t.
Moriah pulled herself together, knowing there wasn’t a place in Peru she could go to avoid memories of Blake. She headed back to the hospital, where she could at least talk to her patients as a distraction.
Theo, Marita’s father, was grateful for the dinner she brought him, the one she’d originally intended to give to Blake. The second meal she’d planned to give to Henri, since Marita wasn’t able to eat anything except through a straw. Moriah had planned for that, though, stopping in the hospital cafeteria first to fetch a shake-like concoction made from papaya juice and milk.
“Have you seen how you look?” she asked Marita as the girl gratefully sipped her drink.
Slowly, Marita shook her head.
“I’ll get the mirror for you.” She hurried out to the nurses’ station and fetched the mirror, then returned to Marita’s room. “Here.” She held up the mirror. “Take a look.”
For a long moment Marita gazed at her reflection, then bright tears welled up in her eyes and rolled down her brown cheeks. Moriah muttered a curse and dropped the mirror on the bed. “Oh, Marita, don’t cry. I know the incision looks a little puffy now, but it will heal beautifully, you’ll see.”
“It’s OK, she’s not upset.” Theo stood and hugged his daughter with one arm. “She’s crying tears of joy.”
“She is?” Worried, Moriah tipped Marita’s chin up with her fingers to look into the girl’s eyes. “Really?”
Marita nodded. Her lip was swollen and sore, but she spoke slowly and quietly. “Thank you very much. You have given me a new life.”
“You’re welcome.” Moriah wished all her patients could be this happy. She turned and headed down the hall to Henri’s room carrying the second container of food.
“Hello, Henri. I brought dinner for you.”
“Moriah.” He was bouncing on the bed with the pent-up energy of youth. He looked happy to see her. “Thank you so much. Look what I can do.” He raised his affected hand and moved all five of his fingers.
“Excellent.” Moriah dropped into the chair beside him. “Now you’ll need to keep up your exercises, so they become even more flexible.”
“I will.” He dug into the food with gusto. “And then maybe I get to leave tomorrow.”
“So soon?” Moriah’s stomach tensed. She’d really enjoyed spending this time with Henri. He was a great kid. And she couldn’t help but wonder if this was the closest she’d get to having a family of her own. Taking care of Henri here, and playing with her nieces and nephews when she returned home.
Shaking herself out of her funk, she realized that if Henri was going home she’d need to arrange for transportation. Rather than head all the way back to the hotel, she went to the nurses’ station to inquire about using their phone.
The Peruvian nurses seemed puzzled by her request, so she explained the whole story, how she needed to get Henri back to the orphanage once he was discharged. There was a bit of discussion about buses versus taxis, then one nurse generously offered Moriah the use of her car. Moriah didn’t want to offend her by refusing, so she gratefully accepted, and they made arrangements to meet in front of the hotel the following morning.
Satisfied, Moriah returned to Henri’s room. At least she could take Henri back where he belonged. And she imagined Sister Rita wouldn’t let her get away a second time without the grand tour. Maybe she’d take the morning off.
After she’d checked Henri’s hand incision, she settled in for the rest of the night.
There was no use going back to her hotel room—she wouldn’t get any more sleep there than she would sitting here by Henri’s bed. She watched him sleep, his youthful expression peaceful. He was satisfied to have five fully movable fingers, and Marita was thankful for her new life.
She should be thrilled at the positive outcomes, yet she couldn’t shake the cloak of depression that had settled over her shoulders. Blake thought he might be falling in love with her, but he only wanted her on his terms. She knew she loved him, but longed for a family.
What if she gave up Blake, only to discover she couldn’t have children of her own? Or, worse, what if she never found a man she loved as much as she loved Blake to have a family with?
At first, she had seen Blake’s refusal to have a family as being selfish.
But maybe she was really the selfish one. Because she wanted it all. Blake, marriage and a family.
And now she feared she’d end up with none of them.
The next morning, Moriah woke up with a stiff neck from the awkward position in which she’d slept in the chair beside Henri’s bed. With a wry glance at the clock she knew Blake would be coming in soon. Pride, if nothing else, forced her into the bathroom to freshen up.
“Hi, Dr Powers.” She heard Henri greet Blake and quickly finished in the bathroom.
“Hello, Blake.” She gestured toward Henri. “I think your star patient is doing great.”
“I can see that.” Blake crossed the room and examined Henri’s fingers. “He could probably be discharged, as long as he continues to take the full course of antibiotics.”
“No problem. I’ll make sure he knows how to take the medication before we leave.”
“Have you arranged for Bernardo to drive you?” Blake asked.
“No, actually, I’ve made arrangements to borrow a car.” Talking to him like this, like they were polite strangers rather than lovers, was difficult. She swallowed her instinctive offer to ask him to come along. “Don’t worry, we’ll be fine.” She glanced at Henri. “Right?”
“Right,” he echoed, but his gaze was troubled. Had Henri noticed the strain between her and Blake? He was a bright kid, she didn’t doubt he’d pick up on the tension.
“Fine, then. Consider him discharged.” Blake wrote the order on the chart, then handed her a discharge summary sheet, transcribed in Spanish on one side, English on the other. “This is for the staff at the orphanage.”
“I know.” She took the slip of paper, careful not to touch him in the process. For a long moment they stood awkwardly, then Blake turned to leave.
Moriah had to steel herself against the urge to call him back, even though she had no idea what she would say. Pushing aside her discontent, she gathered Henri’s things together.
They walked down to the hospital lobby, so Moriah could fetch his antibiotics from the pharmacy. As they headed outside, she gave them to him, along with detailed instructions on how to take them. “Twice a day, one in the morning and one at night. Do you understand? Put them in your pocket so they won’t get lost.”
Henri complied, but remained quiet. Just outside the hospital entrance, she caught sight of Rasha and Manuel. Rasha saw her and waved wildly. She immediately crossed over to them.
“How’s the baby?” She peered at the sleeping infant nestled in Manuel’s muscular arms.
“Fine. Better now that she has the antibiotics.”
“She’s beautiful.” Moriah squashed a surge of unattractive jealousy. Certainly, Rasha and Manuel deserved to be happy.
No use wondering why the same sort of happiness seemed to elude her.
“Please, you must come to the festival tomorrow night.” Rasha exchanged a long look with her husband. “We would like to see you again before you return home.”
“You couldn’t keep me away,” Moriah promised. “But for now we’d better get going, right, Henri?” She glanced down, but didn’t see his familiar face anywhere. She frowned. “Hey, where did he go?”
Rasha and Manuel glanced at each other, then shook their heads. “I don’t know,” Manuel said.
The circular street was packed with people as the festival preparations were now in full swing.
“Maybe he went for a walk?” Rasha suggested.
For a walk? Where would he go? Back to the orphanage by himself? Not likely, without a ride. She dashed down the street, to the area in front of the hotel, but he wasn’t there either. She quickly made her way back to the hospital, where Rasha and Manuel still waited.
Her shoulders slumped as she forced herself to face the truth. Henri was too responsible to simply wander off. He must have run away, to avoid returning to the orphanage.