Healing His Heart Page 7

  "Yeah." He glanced around absently. "So...you're back in the swing of things?"

  "Yep," she said, "running behind as usual. More patients than I have time for and more meetings than is sane. I've been trying to get by here for two days."

  Outside, Caleb's crew called back and forth, their work on the exterior continuing. The sounds of construction wafted through the open doors and windows.

  She'd known she would be fraught with mixed feelings when she faced him again. How could one man be such a combination of irritating and seductive qualities?

  Walking away after the meteor shower, Julia had been determined to avoid any and all personal contact with her soulless foreman. Then he'd found her here that morning, exhausted and broken up over Sandy's death and Caleb had comforted her as if he were the most sensitive man on earth.

  He turned away now, leaving her to follow him.

  "So it's business as usual," he said, an edge to his voice.

  "Pretty much," Julia answered, puzzled by his tension.

  "You recover quickly for a woman who seemed devastated to the point of incoherence a week ago."

  "You mean about Sandy?"

  She watched him cross the living room, turning to face her. Although his features gave no hint of emotion at all, Julia sensed his agitation, the faintest hint of a barbed anger.

  "Was that her name?" Caleb's question flirted with sarcasm. "Do you fall apart for all your dead patients, grieve for them for a few days and then bounce back so quickly?"

  ''I'm not sure I understand," Julia murmured.

  "Never mind," he said, shaking his head as he turned to walk out the door. "I clearly misunderstood the level of your grief."

  "Wait a second." Julia snagged him by the arm, realizing his meaning at last. "You think because I'm back in my normal life, that I didn't really care about Sandy?"

  Caleb looked down at her for a long moment. "You talked like her death really got to you, but nothing really changes."

  "A lot changes," Julia shot back. "Sandy's dead and I'll never forget that or her. What else is supposed to change?"

  "You, maybe," Caleb said. "Maybe you wouldn't want to keep doing what you do, having people die on you, crying yourself sick over them."

  "You quit because a patient died," Julia said, the sudden conviction hitting her.

  "Never mind," Caleb said shortly. "What you do with your life is none of my business. I'm just here to finish your house. Unless you're interested in a mindless fling, just ignore me."

  *

  The pay phone stood sentinel on an empty corner of the convenience store parking lot. Of all the crummy times for her car to self-destruct, this was the worst. Seven o'clock in the evening at her building site with only Caleb there to rescue her.

  If she'd tried to start her car half an hour earlier, one of the other workers would have still been there. She'd have much rather asked her favor of them, knowing how distressing her job was to Caleb.

  Julia punched in the number displayed on her pager, aware of Caleb's eyes boring into her back through the windshield of his truck. Her fingers fumbled awkwardly with the buttons.

  Damn him, she fumed. His talk about meaningless sex distracted her, but she knew it wouldn't be enough. Still, being around him made her restless.

  Waiting to be connected, Julia leaned her head against the pay phone. She was tired of needing to be rescued by Caleb.

  She didn't have a problem relying on people occasionally, but a determinedly footloose hunk of sex appeal wouldn't have been her first pick.

  Minutes later, she hung up the phone and went back to the truck where Caleb waited. His face was granite-jawed.

  Julia slid into the seat.

  She'd have understood his attitude if it had started with her needing him as a taxi service. But it hadn't. He'd been a jerk from the minute she'd walked in.

  Pulling the truck door shut, she told him, "It was a midwife that I back up. She's having a little difficulty with a delivery about forty miles from here."

  Caleb stared ahead through the windshield.

  "And I guess you need a ride there?" he asked dryly.

  “Yes."

  A humorless smile twisted Caleb's lips. "Don't you know a doctor needs a reliable car?"

  He started the engine and shoved it into reverse.

  ''I'm sorry to inconvenience you." The words were out of her mouth before she knew it.

  "Forget it, Julia," he said flatly.

  She subsided into silence, remembering the last time she'd ridden beside him like this. The night she'd found out about his medical training. The night she'd thrown herself at him...and he'd walked out on her.

  So much had changed between them since that night.

  She couldn't even begin to understand all the emotions he roused in her. Although the steady, aching hunger was all too clear.

  The sun sat on the western horizon like an orange wedge, vibrant and blazing with power as the truck flew down the farm-to-market road. Caleb's hands were relaxed on the steering wheel and his eyes steady on the road. He looked like he wanted to kill someone. She'd clearly triggered painful memories, driving him even this close to medicine again.

  Glancing again at his rigid countenance, she wondered why he held his secrets locked in like a greedy man's gold. In the first few weeks that she'd known him he hadn't betrayed his past with a single word or gesture. She hadn't known of his medical career until he chose for her to know.

  The questions lurked still. What had happened to him to make him give up something he'd struggled so hard for?

  He'd comforted her so tenderly when she was coping with her patient's death. A lot could be forgiven him simply for that. Still, it was dawning on her that any situation connected with medicine brought out rage in Caleb.

  The dusky light of evening faded everything around them. The narrow asphalt road they traveled was a gray strip through deserted fields and every revolution of the tires took them farther into the country Julia stared into the twilight.

  "Did you say left on 37?" Caleb asked.

  "Yes, then take the first turn-in."

  They drove in silence, headlights throwing brave beams against the smothering darkness.

  "This is a dirt road, Julia. What kind of clinic is on a dirt road?" Caleb bit out suddenly.

  "It's not a clinic," Julia said quietly as the truck roared down the narrow road. They veered crazily to the right and a building appeared ahead.

  It was a house, its porch light weak in the blackness.

  "You're assisting a home birth?" Caleb's voice was incredulous as he braked to a stop in front of the house. "My God. I can't believe you!"

  Julia's hand was already tugging on the door handle. Grabbing her medical bag, she slipped out and peered back into the interior. Caleb's face was illuminated by the dashlights.

  "I'll get a ride home."

  His laugh was clipped. ''I'm sure there's a taxi service out here in the boondocks in the middle of the night. I'll wait."

  She watched his face a moment longer.

  "Go on, Julia," he said, his voice suddenly tired. "There's a woman in there that needs you."

  *

  As the front door swung shut behind Caleb, danger assailed him as stark and fresh as an open wound. He'd waited a long time in the truck, staring at the small house, hating himself for his own weakness. All this was behind him. He shouldn't even be fazed by it. It wasn't his career on the line.

  Damn, he should have dropped Julia off and left. Certainly, he shouldn't be here now, standing in a small, cozy living area, hearing the soft cries of the laboring woman over the sound of his own heartbeat in his ears.

  Despite himself, he crossed the homey woven rug and hesitated in the open bedroom doorway. The smells of herbal liniment and fear hung in the air. At that moment, Caleb ached for tiled floors and flickering fluorescent lights, the comforting sight of a nurses' station with its stack of charts, and most of all, a state-of-the-art operating room.

/>   Stupidly, as he stood there in the small house, Caleb was overwhelmed with a sense of loss. Once, a long time ago, those surroundings had been like home to him, as familiar and comfortable as his own voice.

  Even if it offered only an illusion of safety, at that moment he'd have given his mother in exchange for a hospital.

  This was the last place he needed to be. Here in this isolated house, without any means to help the woman, no anesthesia, or fetal monitor.

  Neither of them, he nor Julia, should be here. If only he could he'd take her away now, by force. Drag her out to the truck and drive them both miles away from the disaster waiting here. Only he couldn't, couldn't do anything but console himself with the promise of shaking her within an inch of her life.

  Julia's voice came clearly through the open door. "Breathe through this contraction, Heather. I know you're tired, but I need to see how far we have to go."

  Julia knelt at the foot of the bed, her fair head bent forward in concentration as she checked the woman's dilation.

  The door stood ajar, blocking Caleb's view of the woman, but he had an impression of youth, fear and exhaustion. A man in his early twenties hovered near, holding the woman's hand.

  On his face was an anxiety Caleb had seen a thousand times. The rest of the world might be merrily going on its way, but time was frozen for this one couple. They faced frightening possibilities. The woman appeared to be battling wrenching pain.

  How many times had Caleb seen the same scene played out in much more favorable circumstances? All through his obstetrics rotation, he'd marveled at the birth process. It was an intricate endeavor with so many possibilities for disaster.

  His stomach shuddered. He'd specifically chosen an internal medicine specialty. Obstetricians were the first to face tragedy when the miracle went wrong.

  Julia straightened, pulling off her glove. "Well, it looks like we're almost there. You can sit up now, Heather, if you'll be more comfortable."

  A capable-looking woman, evidently the midwife, who had stood at Julia's elbow now asked her, "You agree?"

  "Yes," Julia stepped back as the husband helped the pregnant woman up. ''I'd say you're in transition to the final stage of labor, Heather. I know it's been a long haul, but you should deliver soon." The young woman leaned forward as another contraction washed over her.

  Caleb watched as Julia turned to confer with the other woman. "When did you say her contractions started seriously, Melanie?" Together they moved toward the door.

  "About eight o'clock yesterday evening. They were strong through most of the night and petered out this morning. I had her try to get some sleep; then at noon they started up again."

  Julia glanced over her shoulder at the woman sitting on the bed. "Well, you're right. She's pretty tired, but the contractions aren't letting up. They seem to be intensifying. "

  Caleb stepped back as the women came into the living room.

  The midwife frowned. "I think her physical tension is exhausting her."

  "Maybe a little something for pain might help her catch her breath and she could relax enough to let the baby slip on down," Julia suggested.

  "That's what I was thinking when I called you. Do you think we should try to transport her to a hospital? The baby's heartbeat is strong. I think we just need to give her a chance to catch her breath."

  Julia shook her head. "I don't think we need to transport right now. Let's try the painkiller."

  The midwife went back into the bedroom as Julia picked up her medical kit. She turned to Caleb, her eyes steady. He knew from her expression that she was aware of his presence all along.

  "You're not taking this woman to the hospital?" Caleb blurted incredulously. He knew he sounded accusatory and he didn't care. The blunt truth was that most hospitals didn't welcome midwife-assisted births and most physicians wouldn't come within a mile of this kind of situation.

  Julia responded levelly, "This isn't an emergency. Labor is progressing; the mother's just a little tired."

  "Don't give me that crap. Do you do this often? Back up home births?"

  She didn't answer immediately. "I have a lot of faith in Melanie and most of her colleagues. There are a few midwives I won't back up, but I've learned a lot from most of them. Besides, you'd be shocked if you knew how many people choose home births. Many can't afford hospitals or insurance or they don’t want to go to a county hospital.” She turned away to prepare the injection.

  Caleb only stared at her. He couldn’t fathom her taking on these kinds of risks in an already risky medical practice. If she was so blown away by losing an adult patient, how would she handle an infant’s death?

  Despite the acid eating at his stomach, Caleb was too restless to wait in the truck. Instead, he paced the living room, doing his best to tune out the drama that was occurring only a few feet away. It was insanity.

  As he passed by the open door once more, he was startled to see the laboring woman standing beside the bed. With the midwife by one side and the father by the other, the young woman leaned forward, bearing down with her contractions.

  Julia was kneeling in front of her, offering encouragement. As if magnetized, Caleb drew closer.

  “That’s it, Heather! Just a little more like that and we’ll get to see this little sweetie’s face.”

  Heather took a deep breath as another contraction started. Her face was now filled with determination. Even her color looked better.

  “Take a breath and push again,” the midwife instructed.

  “Get me some towels,” Julia instructed the assistant who was hovering in the background with the bewildered father.

  Placing the towels on the floor between Heather’s feet, Julia said, “I think you’d better trade places with me, Melanie. There’s a baby for you to catch.”

  The two women traded places quickly. Julia went to Heather’s side, holding her arm for support as she gave one last mighty push. There was a loud cry from Heather and then a chorus of celebratory yeIls from everyone in the room as the baby’s head appeared.

  “Straighten up, Heather,” Melanie directed. “We need to help the baby’s shoulders out.”

  A newborn’s wail sounded clearly as Caleb swung away from the door. Heading through the living room, he didn’t stop until he reached the truck.

  Shudders ripped through him. He climbed in and slammed the door shut, determined to put as many barriers as possible between himself and everything Julia represented.

  *

  Two hours later, Caleb pulled in front of Julia's apartment and shoved the gearshift into "Park" with barely controlled violence. Anger emanated from him, although he didn't speak, and Julia leaned forward to scoop her purse off the floor. The truck engine throbbed softly in the background. Darkness surrounded them with the sullen heat of summer. No lights shone from her building, its occupants long gone to bed. No sign of human presence. She felt isolated, lost, surrounded by Caleb's rage, by his pain.

  The relief of the successful birth had faded over the drive back to her apartment. Emotions tangled together in her head. She felt as bare as the newborn infant she'd held an hour before. Naked and exposed, as if there were nothing between her nerve endings and Caleb's raging turmoil.

  He faced his own battle, one that only he could fight.

  She knew he felt walled-off from the rest of the world, but no one deserved to fight as alone as Caleb was right now. His struggle pierced through her, made her aware of the unfinished part of herself that longed for a partner in her own emotional battles.

  Julia pushed open the truck door and got out. She shut the door behind herself without a word and had turned toward her apartment when the truck engine clicked off. The opposite door opened and Caleb vaulted out to face her over the hood.

  "Where the hell do you get off condoning such an irresponsible course of treatment?" he snarled, words erupting from him.

  "What do you mean?" Her face felt wary. His rage filled her more with every breath, as if she were absorbing his
pain.

  "You know damn well what I mean," he yelled. "That baby could have died tonight. Not to mention the mother. Anything could have happened, and you condoned it!"

  "That baby was never at risk, Caleb." She offered the reassurance like balm for his soul.

  "You don't know that! You couldn't have known that. You agreed to back this thing up and you had no idea what could happen!" His voice echoed off the canyon of brick walls surrounding them.

  "It was a normal pregnancy, Caleb, with no unusual risk factors. I'm careful about the ones I take." Emotion clogged her throat. God, she could feel his anguish.

  "Unusual risk factors! Aren't the usual ones enough?" he roared.

  Julia saw a light flash on in the apartment across from hers. "Caleb, it was okay. Everything turned out all right. "

  "You couldn't have known it would. You took an unforgivable risk. Babies die! They don't start breathing. Women hemorrhage. How could you chance it?"

  He saw possibilities that existed, she knew. Worst-case scenarios. Situations that were screened out ninety-nine percent of the time. She knew, too, that none of that mattered to Caleb. The risks she was willing to take had brought his alive. She could see it in his face. He saw her walking the edge of a precipice over which he'd already fallen. It was as if he needed to push her away from it. As if saving her somehow would save a piece of himself.

  CHAPTER SIX

  "Come inside, Caleb." Julia turned to go up the steps to her apartment, aware as she unlocked the door that he shut off the truck lights and followed her. He walked through the open door and stood glowering at her as she shut and locked it.

  Turning to face him, her heart beat painfully in her chest. His eyes blazed blue fire, boring into her. "It's all right, Caleb," she soothed. "It's really all right."

  Intensity flared higher in his face. "No, Julia. It's not all right. The medical profession is crazy as it is. Every time a physician puts on that damned white jacket, they're asking for someone to die in their arms. And here you are practically begging for it!"

  A wave of empathy filled her. He was so lost, so desperately in need of loving. And he didn't even know it. His shoulders were as stiff as a man facing a firing squad. She knew he was looking death in the face, feeling like an accomplice.