From Doctor...to Daddy (8 page)

As Erika carried Emilia to her crib, she said, “You look as if you're deep in thought.”

“Not too deep,” he returned nonchalantly, but he could see she wasn't buying it.

She took a stuffed dog from the corner of the crib and handed it to Emilia. Her daughter tucked the dog into her body like the precious comfort that it was.

“Can you say good-night to Dr. Dillon?” Erika asked her.

Emilia held on to the crib railing, rocking back and forth from one foot to the other. Then she smiled at him and said, “Nighty-night, Dr. Diwwon.”

The tug toward mother and child was so strong Dillon couldn't resist. Crossing to them, he gave Emilia a good-night hug. “Nighty-night, little one.” Then in turmoil because of conflicting emotions, he said, “I'll wait downstairs,” and left the nursery.

Fifteen minutes later, he'd straightened the books on the coffee table and righted the cushions on the sofa. Erika descended the stairs, adjusted the baby monitor on the side table and sank down on the couch a few inches away from him.

“Thank you,” she said, motioning to the room. “You didn't have to straighten up.”

“I needed something to do.”

“You'd be handy to have around,” she teased.

A hushed quiet fell between them as their gazes locked and both thought about what she'd said.

“Would you like something to drink?” she asked. “I don't have anything hard, but I have soft drinks and juice.”

“No, I'm fine.” He leaned forward, clasped his hands and dropped them between his knees.

She moved a little closer to him until their arms were brushing. “Why did you come over tonight?”

“I wanted to see you outside of our work atmosphere again…somewhere other than on my turf.”

“Why? To see if I'm the same person at work
and
at home?”

He shrugged. “Maybe. Maybe I wanted to see if
I
was the same person. Sitting here with you now with Emilia's toys all around feels a little different than talking to you in my office.”

“This is my real life, Dillon, the one that matters. I need my job and I'll always do the very best I can, but Emilia is the center of my world.”

“That's the thing about kids. They are
the
center and if that center collapses, so does the rest of a parent's world.”

“You sound as if you know.”

“I do.”

Her eyes questioned him before she asked gently, “What happened?”

Did he want to talk about this? No. He rarely did—only when he was pushed by Corey or Zane. Maybe that's why it still seemed so raw. Maybe that's why the thought of being a dad again was so difficult to consider.

“Dillon?” Erika prodded.

He let out a deep breath. “I was married and had a little boy—Toby.”

Erika studied him with a sympathy that almost halted his words. This was just so damn hard to talk about. Looking away from her, he spotted a toy car under a table and concentrated on that. “I met Megan when I was doing my residency. We dated for a year and decided to get married. I had warned her about residency and the grueling hours. I'm not sure now what she thought would happen if she got pregnant. Maybe she really believed we'd live on my inheritance or I'd join Ethan at Traub Industries and give up being a doctor. But she stopped taking her birth-control pills without telling me.”

“She got pregnant?” Erika guessed.

Dillon nodded and blew out a breath. “Yes. Her stopping the pills damaged the sense of trust in our marriage. My reaction didn't help. I was furious for a while. But I wanted our baby. I loved her. I had just expected to wait to have a family until I was established in a practice. Toby was born at the end of my residency. Megan hired a nanny and I thought everything would be okay.”

Erika covered his hand with hers. She squeezed his fingers and he brought his gaze back to her. “Our marriage wasn't okay. I joined a practice and that took more of my time than she ever imagined. When I
was
home, I spent time with Toby. But Megan and I hardly talked. We'd finally managed a routine and Megan and I were trying to take one night a week for ourselves—to pull our marriage back together again—when Toby got sick. It started with lethargy and bruising. If I had been home more…around him more, maybe I would have caught on sooner. But he was diagnosed with a rare type of leukemia.”

“Oh, Dillon,” Erika murmured, perhaps knowing what was coming.

“We took him to New York and L.A. The best doctors. The most cutting-edge therapies. But he died when he was four and a half and I could do nothing about it. Absolutely nothing.”

Moving closer to him, Erika said, “I'm so sorry. I can't even imagine your heartache.” Then she asked, “Do you have a picture of him?”

The question made the hole in his heart feel bigger. Still, he shifted on the sofa and pulled out his wallet. Then he extracted the photo of Toby hidden behind his driver's license.

Erika studied the photo of Toby when he was three, his blond hair gleaming in sunlight as he stood with a stubby bat in his hand, ready to swat a ball that came his way.

“I hope that's how you remember him.”

Dillon carefully inserted the photo back in his wallet. “It's complicated. I wasn't around as much as I should have been before he was diagnosed. So most of our time together was when he was sick. Unfortunately, I can't choose to remember only the good times.”

“You and your wife didn't turn to each other?”

“Actually we did in a way…during his illness. I took a leave of absence. We supported each other and Toby the best way we knew how. But afterward, something was broken. Maybe
we
were broken.”

“Your hearts were broken,” Erika said quickly.

“I guess I wanted to go back to practicing medicine to give my life purpose. Something to do everyday that mattered. But when I returned, I still had long hours. And too much had gone wrong.” He sighed. “Megan and I divorced two years ago.”

“Did you take a leave from your practice to come up here?”

“After Megan and I separated, I took a wilderness survival course up here with vacation days and decided to apply for my license in Montana. My contract with the practice in Midland is up for renewal, and I told Marshall that when I was here in June. That's why he asked me to step in for him.”

“So I guess you have a decision to make at the end of the month.”

“Yes, I do.”

They sat in silence for a few minutes until Erika said, “I can understand if you find being with children…being with Emilia…difficult. Now I understand why you look at Emilia the way you do, as if she brings you joy and pain at the same time.”

His silence was his response until finally he nodded.

Disentangling their hands, he slid his arm around her shoulders, wanting the contact, needing to touch her. They sat in silence for a short while, then he admitted, “I like being with you.”

“I like being with you, too,” she replied almost shyly. “But if I see you, Dillon, if I spend time with you, if I let Emilia get attached to you, what happens to the two of us when you leave?”

“Don't you think the only way to figure it out is if we see each other, spend real time together and figure out each day as it comes?” He breathed in the scent of her, felt the warmth of her skin under her sweater, knew in his gut his attraction to Erika went deeper than his body's response to her.

When she tipped her chin up, her hair fell across her brow, her eyes glistened with emotion. “The idea of
spending time with you terrifies me because I already like you and I feel as if I'm falling—” She abruptly stopped.

Dillon stroked his fingers through her hair, then he placed the gentlest of kisses on her lips. It was nothing like the others they'd shared. It was just a taste.
She
would have to decide how much more she wanted.

She looked bemused as he leaned away.

After a few moments, he broke eye contact and stood. “This is a decision you're going to have to make, without any pressure from me. I understand Emilia is your most important concern. But how you choose to live your life will teach her how to live hers. In the long run, the safe route isn't always safe at all. Sometimes it's a dead end. Maybe we both need to take a risk.”

“You act as if this is a simple decision,” she murmured, her voice a little shaky.

“It's not simple, but it is a decision.” He pulled his hand to his side…away from her hair…away from her beautiful face…away from her body that he longed to touch.

Just what would Erika's decision be?

 

A half hour later, Dillon let himself into his suite and went to his bedroom. Saying goodbye to Erika had been tough. He knew he had to stand back and let her make up her mind. Hell, he didn't know if
he
was ready for an involvement…short
or
long.

He'd just changed into sleeping shorts when his cell phone chimed. Taking it from the dresser, he glanced at the ID and smiled when he recognized Zane's number.

Instead of a greeting, Dillon said, “I hear you're coming to my neck of the woods.”

Zane chuckled. “Since when is Montana
your
neck of the woods?”

Dillon sank down onto his bed, suddenly wondering that himself. Maybe it had been a Freudian slip. “I've been here two weeks and I'm settling in, but I think I'd prefer a log cabin to my luxury suite. It has everything I need, but sometimes maybe I don't want everything I need. Do you know what I mean?”

“I know exactly what you mean. The public thinks being waited on hand and foot is a good thing, but it makes a guy lazy. That's why I hole up at my homestead off a not-very-traveled road.”

Zane had bought a small stone house in Utah with a lot of land for privacy's sake. Very few people knew about it.

“My manager was impressed with Miss Rodriguez,” Zane said. “After his initial acceptance, she called him with all the organizational stuff she needed to know. Very thorough.”

“Erika is definitely conscientious and thorough.”

“Do you know her well?” Zane's tone was patently curious.

“I'm getting to know her better each day.” There was no point beating around the bush with Zane. Once Zane arrived, he'd see the electricity between the two of them.

“Is it serious?”

“We're both fighting it. I have a career and a life in Texas, she has a history with a bad relationship and a little girl to show for it.”

“How old's her little girl?” Zane always went straight to the point.

“Emilia's almost two…absolutely adorable.”

“How do you feel about being around her?”

A long silence stretched between them until Zane said, “Life is full of all kinds of pain, Dillon, but I'm not sure you can resist it. It's part of life. It makes us who we are. You have to learn to balance it with the joy.”

Dillon had missed Zane poking into his life. “It'll be good to see you again. It's been too long.”

“Yeah, it has. It will be crazy when I'm there. We can only spare about thirty hours out of my schedule. But somehow, you and I are at least going to have a beer together.”

“That sounds good. Call me when your bus rolls through Bozeman.”

“Will do.”

Dillon put down his phone, staring at it for a few moments. It had been a while since he'd heard Zane strum his guitar.

It had been a while since he'd let Zane dig up the past. However, maybe his friend could give him a bead on his growing attachment to Erika. Still…did Dillon
really
want his good friend's perspective on what he should or shouldn't do?

E
rika exchanged a glance with Dillon the following afternoon as they sat in his office with Grant Clifton, who had asked to see them. Just that brief meeting of their eyes felt like a fall into space. When he'd said goodbye to her the night before, she hadn't known what the future would bring them. Wasn't she opening the door to heartache by making her heart vulnerable again?

She tried to concentrate on Grant. The resort manager was tall and lean and always seemed happy these days, most likely because his wife, Stephanie, was pregnant.

Grant spoke first. “We averted disaster with Mr. Lindstrom and his son thanks to both of you. Now I'd like to do a little more so food allergies aren't a problem in the future. Dillon, I'd like you to give a workshop tomorrow to all the employees of the restaurants in the
resort about the importance of food prep and handling of special requests.”

Dillon considered it. “You're thinking if the chefs and servers are all more educated on the subject, they'll be more careful.”

“Exactly,” Grant agreed. “I want them to realize they need to stay updated and alert. If a guest asks for a special dinner, there's probably a good reason why. It's not a whim.”

Grant addressed Erika. “The reason I wanted you here is because I'd like you to assist Dillon. I know this is short notice and he'll need secretarial help.”

Erika waited, expecting him to explain, and he did.

“I'd like you to make a list of the employees, make sure each will be there, even if you have to offer a personal invitation. At the workshop, I'd like you to hand out the information Dillon puts together and just generally make sure all goes smoothly. I know you're wearing more than one hat right now…and Frontier Days are approaching in a week and a half. If you don't think you can fit this in, I'll find someone else to do it.”

“Oh, I can fit it in,” she said quickly, without even thinking about it.

Across his desk, Dillon frowned. Because he knew about the class she was taking? About how little sleep she must be getting?

“I sent memos to the restaurants telling them about the workshop from two to three in between service breaks. If there are employees who absolutely can't make it, we can still give them the information and make sure they attend a workshop later. When Marshall returns, he can follow up with what you've done.”

Grant addressed Erika again. “I've been told you're a detail person. Even the mayor had good things to say
about you, so I'm sure I can count on you to make sure nothing goes unattended.”

“Yes, sir, you can.”

“Great. Neither of you have to walk me out. I know my way.” With a grin, he stood and left Dillon's office.

But Dillon wasn't smiling when Erika turned to face him, asking, “What's wrong?”

He was silent for a while as if debating with himself whether he should say anything or not. Then he asked, “Did you really need something else to do? Maybe you should have told Grant that every spare minute in your day is already taken.”

“And maybe the work I do is my concern and not yours.”

“Erika, I see the dark circles under your eyes. I know your time with Emilia is limited as it is. Yes, the promotion means a lot to you, but I don't think you need to do this to earn a promotion. Coordinating Frontier Days should do that.”

She rose from her seat, shaking her head. If she didn't combat his protective streak, his caring would get to her and she couldn't let it. “I'll take all the responsibility I can get if that means it will cement my position here and earn me a raise.”

“I can have someone else type up lists,” he insisted, pushing back his chair, joining her where she stood. The buzz between them vibrated like a live wire.

Finally she sighed. “I know you can. But I'll e-mail each employee personally and follow up with a call. I'll do this right, Dillon. You know I will.”

She knew she should step away from him, but she didn't. She stood her ground and that was her mistake.

He spoke softly, but his words carried a whopping
impact. “I care about you, Erika…and Emilia, too. We haven't known each other very long, but—” He reached out, touched a few of the waves in her ponytail, then dropped his hand to his side. “But time doesn't always make a difference in something like this.”

He had no right to sound as if her life mattered to him. He had no right to pluck a chord inside of her that wanted to sing. In spite of herself, she remembered her months with Scott and couldn't help comparing that time to now…couldn't help comparing him to Dillon. They were both well-off men with a way with women. That's what confused her so about Dillon. Did he act this way with all women, or just with her?

“Last night you said I had to make a decision,” she responded. “I'm not ready to do that. I'm still trying to absorb everything you told me. I think I need some time and space.”

“I can give you space. But maybe not time.”

And that was the crux of her dilemma.

She took a deep breath. “I'd better start on that list.”

Then she turned away from the caring as well as the desire in his eyes and left his office.

 

Erika stood at the door of the conference room the following afternoon, distributing Dillon's handouts to the employees coming in to hear his presentation.

She nodded and smiled to everyone and tried not to feel paranoid when she felt gazes on her. They were interested in the seminar, not in her. At least that's what she told herself until two women, who looked to be about her age, began whispering as soon as they passed her. She heard one say to the other, “I heard she's more than Dr. Traub's receptionist. Joanne saw them in the
parking lot one night last week. Their lips were locked tight. Maybe he's her next sugar daddy.”

The night of the potluck supper, Erika had thought no one else had been in the parking lot. But then it had been dark and she hadn't looked around until after she'd pulled away from Dillon's embrace.

So everyone was thinking she took up with Dillon because she wanted a replacement for Scott? Hadn't she proven she could be a good employee and a good mother? Why did gossip have to be so easy, and putting out the fires from its effects so hard? She fought back tears, attempting to maintain her professional composure.

A few minutes later she finally felt as if she'd regained her equilibrium. And that was a good thing because Dillon came walking down the hall toward her. He stopped. “You've done a great job pulling this together.”

She glanced around, saw the women who had gossiped watching and felt suppressed emotion make her chin quiver. “It was my job.” She tried to keep her voice even.

Dillon must have seen the quiver in her chin. “Are you upset about something?”

“No.” She swallowed hard and blinked fast. Checking her watch, she advised him, “You'd better get started. They have to return to the restaurants to prepare for dinner.”

“Tell me what happened, Erika. Something obviously did. You're near tears.”

She cleared her throat and looked down at her high heels so he wouldn't see the tears swimming in her eyes. “Don't worry about me. Just do what you came here to do.”

Knowing she couldn't stand there with him any lon
ger, knowing there were some people watching, knowing she would be food for gossip again tomorrow if she didn't make a getaway, she handed him the rest of the papers.

“Don't come after me,” she said in a desperate whisper. “Don't make this worse.” Then she headed for the ladies' room down the hall, not intending to emerge until her makeup was perfect and her professional facade was back in place.

Dillon didn't know what to think as he watched Erika walk away. She had pride. He could see that in the set of her shoulders. But she was upset, too, and that had been obvious in her shaky words, in her bright eyes and the way she'd hurried away. If it hadn't been for her plea for him not to follow her, he would have, meeting or no meeting. He'd respect her wishes for now, but as soon as this presentation was over, he'd find her.

Speaking before a group had never bothered Dillon, so he took his place at the podium and let Grant introduce him. Then he launched into a presentation on the most common food allergies, who was most affected and what precautions the staff needed to take. He allowed plenty of time for questions and there were quite a few. All the while, though, he had Erika on his mind, too, and the vision of her straight back as she rushed down the hall.

He was worried about her. So when the hour-long workshop was over, he left the conference room and headed back to the office. He assumed that's where she'd be. But when he returned, she wasn't sitting at her desk in the reception area and he found Ruthann covering the phone and any emergencies that might crop up.

“Hey, Doc. How'd it go?” she asked.

“I think it was successful. Have you seen Erika?”

“She was here for a little while, but then she popped in to tell me she needed to make a call. I'm not sure where she went to do that. That was about ten minutes ago.”

Make a call. Maybe she was calling a friend to talk about whatever had happened to her. Where would she go to make that call? “I'm going to step out for a little while,” he told Ruthann. “You have my cell-phone number if you need me.”

She nodded. “Sure do,” then with a wink, she said, “I hope you find her.”

He couldn't be that transparent, could he?

After he thought about Erika's options, he dismissed the route through the lobby that led to the boutiques. If she wanted quiet, she wouldn't go that way. He took the hall that led to the back of the building and went down a flight of stairs. Instead of heading into the underground garage, he pushed through the door that led outside to a garden and a fantastic view of the mountains. September was coming into its glory. The purple peaks wore a caplet of snow. Brilliant blue sky, populated by a line of puffy white clouds, was one of the reasons tourists visited here. But in spite of the vista before him with its pines, golden hills and autumn-dressed trees, his gaze fell on the beautiful woman sitting on an outcropping of rock a few feet below him. She was using her cell phone.

He let the door close quietly behind him so as not to startle her. But she must have heard him. The smile faded from her lips and he heard her say, “I'll talk to you in a little while, baby. Give the phone to Grandma.”

Emilia must have done as Erika asked because Erika said, “I have soup in the slow cooker. If you'd like to
join us for supper, you're welcome. Okay, I'll see you around five-thirty.”

Erika closed her phone but didn't rise from her perch. So Dillon did the only sensible thing. He joined her. “You're going to get your suit dirty,” he said matter-of-factly.

“You will, too.”

“I guess we'll both have to send our clothes to the dry cleaners. Making plans for supper?”

“My mother knows I want to be on my own, so she doesn't intrude. But it's nice to have family around you, you know?”

“Is that why you wanted to talk to Emilia—you needed to have family around you?”

“Emilia keeps me grounded.”

The wind blew around them, whispering secrets, soothing away tension.

“Tell me what happened before the workshop,” he prompted.

She remained silent. She hadn't looked at him since he'd sat down beside her. Now she still kept her gaze on the mountains and whatever else she saw in the distance. “There's gossip about us.”

“What kind of gossip?”

“Someone saw us the night we kissed in the parking lot. Apparently rumors have been making the rounds.”

He swore under his breath. “Aren't small towns just great?” Knowing his anger wouldn't help, he asked, “What did you hear?”

She didn't answer.

“Erika?”

Almost defiantly, she faced him. “They're saying that maybe you're my next sugar daddy.”

That took him aback. “Because?” he prompted.

“Because Scott had plenty of money. And I…I fell for him fast. I guess they're making comparisons. On the surface, you and Scott are a lot alike.”

Dillon felt the pulse in his temples throb. Annoyance, anger, resentment? He wasn't sure what he felt, but he did know why he felt it. “Are you making the same comparisons?”

When she was silent again, he cupped her elbow. “Erika, look at me.”

She did, and her expression was troubled as he said, “You told me what happened with Scott. I understand the gossip. I know you want to protect Emilia. But I am
not
him. You and I are both being honest with each other. I know he wasn't honest with you. Maybe it's experience that's taught me a thing or two. I don't know. But I do know you have to face the gossip head on and hold your head up high. Neither of us has done anything wrong.”

She bit her lower lip and shook her head. “I understand that, but I guess I was worried…I was worried you'd believe the gossip.”

“That you're a gold digger?”

She nodded again and a tear fell down her cheek. He couldn't keep from wrapping his arm around her. He couldn't keep from pulling her into his shoulder. He couldn't keep from holding her tight. “You're not a gold digger. I know that.”

She tilted her head up. “How can you be so sure? As you said, we haven't known each other very long.”

“I've seen you with Emilia. I've seen how hard you work. I know how much you've been battling not to be involved with me.”

Apparently playing devil's advocate, she suggested
drily, “Maybe all that's a show, just to pique your curiosity so you're more interested.”

“You forget, I'm a doctor. I see patients most days and I have to guess or intuit what's going on. I'm a good judge of character, Erika. If I ever could convince you to go on a date with me, I don't think you'd expect a new car at the end of the evening.”