The Millionaire and the M.D. (15 page)

He was going to hell for sure. But the truth was that he'd already been living there for a very long time.

Two days later Rebecca peeked into Amy's hospital room and smiled. Sitting up in the chair, the teen was just handing her son off to her father who smiled lovingly as he snuggled the tiny baby to his chest for several moments before settling him in the clear plastic isolette.

“On his back, Dad,” Amy cautioned.

“Since when?” He glanced over his shoulder at her. “It's not the way we used to do it.”

“I've been reading. It's safer. There's a significant drop in SIDS—sudden infant death syndrome—since people aren't putting babies on their tummies.”

“Okay,” Carleton said, smiling at his daughter. “You're the boss.”

The scene tugged at her heart. A balloon bouquet took up a corner of the room. There was a flower arrangement in a ceramic booties vase. Stuffed animals, rattles, a diaper bag and tiny clothes were scattered around. The hospital bed looked more like a display in Babies R Us with denim overalls from a name-brand company, some terry-cloth sleepers and the biggest box of newborn disposable diapers Rebecca had ever seen. Baby boy Thorne would outgrow them before he could use them all up. This picture finally looked the way it should.

She rapped her knuckles on the door frame. “Knock, knock.”

Amy tore her gaze from the baby, then smiled with genuine pleasure. “Hi, Rebecca.”

“Hey, you. Carleton,” she said to the older man.

“If it isn't the Thorne family's favorite doctor.”

Maybe these two Thornes', but not Gabe's. She hadn't seen or heard from him since coaxing Amy to confess by opening up about her own past. Rebecca wasn't prepared for the wave of pain that rolled through her when the truth hit. Gabe was gone—at least as far as she was concerned. She shouldn't have told him like that, but there wasn't time to consider his reaction when she'd realized what she had to do. And she didn't want to lose momentum or opportunity.

Her patient's welfare had been the first priority, and it looked as if her gamble had paid off. This concerned young mother was the complete opposite of the hostile-teen-in-denial she'd first met. Maybe confession really was good for the soul. Although, in her case, not so much.

She hid her sadness behind the best smile she could produce and looked around the room. “If you'd like, I can reserve a U-Haul truck and several burly men to cart this stuff out of here for you.”

Carleton laughed. “Is that your diplomatic way of saying that I'm spoiling my grandson?”

“It is if you bought all this stuff.”

“Guilty as charged,” he admitted, not looking the least bit repentant.

Amy sat forward in the chair and lovingly smoothed her fingers over her son's cheek. “I tried to tell him, but he won't listen to me.”

“Excuse me. Did I not put that child on his back?”

“Okay, Dad. One point for you.” She looked at Rebecca. “See what I'm up against?”

The warm feeling Rebecca got almost pushed away the coldness in her heart from Gabe's rejection. “All new mothers should be so lucky.”

“I know. And to think I was afraid to tell him I was pregnant.” She glanced at her father. “I thought he didn't want me around. I was afraid if I told him what happened, he would be even more disappointed in me than he was before.”

“And you were wrong,” Rebecca pointed out.

“I don't think I would have had the courage to talk about it if you hadn't told me what happened to you.” She hesitated, then said, “I talked to my father about it. I hope you don't mind.”

Rebecca shook her head. “If there's any lesson to be learned, it's that keeping secrets hurts the ones we love, but mostly we harm ourselves.”

“I get it now,” Amy said. “And when I think about what this secret could have done to my baby. If not for you—”

“Don't go there.” Rebecca held up her hands. “And don't beat yourself up. What happened to you wasn't your fault and you were dealing with the consequences the best way you knew how. Believe me, I didn't handle my own consequences very well.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” Carleton asked, sympathy and a new wisdom in his eyes.

“Not really.” She laughed. “But then I'd be a do-as-I-say-not-as-I-do kind of person, wouldn't I?”

“If the shoe fits…” he said.

“I was engaged a couple years ago,” she began. “It had been a long time since the assault and I thought I was past the point where he could hurt me anymore. The problem was I'd never told anyone.”

“No one?” Amy asked.

Rebecca shook her head. She wasn't sure why she was sharing this with them, except maybe it would help Amy to deal with things better than she had. Lead by example.

“I didn't want my parents to know. Just like you,” she added. “I didn't want to hurt them. And I didn't want them to know how stupid I'd been.”

“It wasn't your fault,” Carleton interjected. “Amy and I have been talking to the counselor together and if there's one recurring message, that's it. You just said it to her yourself.”

“I know. It's something we need to keep repeating to ourselves.” She smiled sadly. “The thing is, I didn't think my fiancé needed to know what happened. After all, I was over it. But then I started having nightmares and I finally told him why.”

“And what did he do?” Amy asked.

“He became distant. Soon after that he broke things off. His excuse was that he wasn't prepared to handle something like that, but reading between the lines, I knew that it was just too much trouble to deal with me, what happened to me. He was ashamed of me. The message, little grasshopper,” she said, trying to add levity to her words, “is that keeping secrets can cost you.”

Rebecca thought she'd learned the lesson, but clearly she'd been wrong. What happened with Gabe just confirmed what she already knew—she was book smart, not street smart. But she'd believed sharing her past was on a need-to-know basis, and she'd never intended to let things with Gabe escalate to the point where he needed to know. Everything between them happened so fast. Now everything hurt so much. She'd botched it badly, and that had cost her any chance with Gabe.

Carleton put his arm around her shoulders. “The man you were going to marry is an idiot. Obviously you dodged a bullet.”

The words brought tears to her eyes and she was afraid she would embarrass herself. Blinking hard she said, “I appreciate that. But I also need to take responsibility for my part. I gave what happened to me a lot of power by waiting too long to tell him.”

Amy's eyebrows drew together as a troubled expression settled in her eyes. “I think I waited too long to tell Gabe.”

“Why do you say that, sweetheart?” her father asked.

“Because I haven't seen him since he found out.”

That was a surprise to Rebecca. “He hasn't been back to visit?”

Amy shook her head. “No.”

“Probably because he knows I've been here,” Carleton offered. “I know he's busy with the hospital construction project. In fact, I haven't seen him at the house, either. He's probably got an accumulation of loose ends at the office.”

“You are aware that he basically works here at Mercy Medical Center?” Rebecca asked.

“Yes, but—” Carleton didn't finish that statement.

He knew as well as Rebecca did that no matter how busy Gabe was at the office, the office was close enough for him to drop in and see how his sister was doing. The thing was, it didn't make sense. The Gabe she'd come to know didn't walk out on the people he loved.

The Gabe she'd come to love had been nothing but supportive. Rebecca had shared her suspicions so Amy's tearful admission of what happened to her hadn't come as a complete shock to him. The shock would have been her own confirmation of sharing a similar experience.

She replayed that scene in her head and realized he hadn't said anything after Amy's confession. She'd asked the nurse to bring in the baby, and when she turned around he was gone. She'd figured he needed time to process the information. Then she hadn't heard from him and the realization had sunk in that she was too much trouble for him to deal with. But that was about him and her. It never crossed her mind that he hadn't been back to see his sister.

“Rebecca, speaking of that U-Haul truck,” Carleton said, changing the subject, “when can I take my daughter and grandson back to Texas?”

She met his gaze. “They're both doing well. I wanted to keep her a couple more days to help her deal with being a mom, and a little more time with the counselor.”

“It's helped a lot,” Amy confirmed.

“It's a breakthrough,” Rebecca countered. “But emotional recovery is ongoing.” If anyone knew that it was her. “I would strongly urge you to find someone at home that you can talk to and continue the process.”

“I've already looked into it,” Carleton said.

“Good.” When she looked at the two of them and the sleeping infant who was as sweet and innocent as he could be, Rebecca felt a lump in her throat. She'd grown so fond of this family. It would be hard to say goodbye. To all of them. “I'd like to keep you one more night.”

“All right. Whatever you think best.” Carleton smiled at his daughter. “Then we'll spend a little time with your brother while you recuperate before we go home.”

Rebecca planned to spend some quality time with Gabe Thorne, too. She was sorry he'd had such a rough go of it, but that didn't automatically give him a pass to hurt people.

She was going to talk to Gabe and tell him exactly what she thought.

R
ebecca had never been to where Gabe worked, a portable on the Mercy Medical campus that could be moved anywhere at a moment's notice. And apparently it was a metaphor for his life. He only let people in temporarily, then he was gone when someone didn't meet his expectations. She'd thought he was different and hadn't known being wrong could hurt so much.

She climbed the three steps of the portable stairway and didn't bother knocking before opening the door. Frankly, she didn't actually give a damn if she interrupted something. She walked into what looked like a reception area. There was no one at the desk, which made sense. It was after six o'clock. But she'd seen light in one of the back offices. It was probably Gabe, since his father had said he was working all the time.

She took a deep breath and moved to the open doorway, then looked inside. When she saw him behind his desk, head bent as he read something, her heart did that funny little skip it always did. This time it was more painful than exciting. This time would be the last time, and the realization cut clear to her soul.

He glanced up and looked surprised. “Rebecca.”

“You were expecting someone else?”

“No. I—” He leaned back in his chair and ran his fingers through his hair. “When the door opened I—We usually get FedEx pickup about this time. I thought you were the delivery guy.”

Nope, but he was probably going to wish she was. She pulled her sweater tighter. The chilly desert wind whipped across the valley outside, but it felt colder in here. That was probably more about how she felt on the inside than anything else.

“It's just me.”

“What's up?” He frowned and sat up straight, his muscles tensing. “Is it Amy? Did she have a setback?”

Rebecca noticed he didn't ask about the baby. Now that she thought about it, he'd never really discussed his nephew.

“Amy's fine. No thanks to you,” she added.

“What does that mean?”

“You haven't been to see your sister for a couple of days.”

“I've been busy,” he said. “Work has piled up…”

“So your father said.”

He held out his hand, indicating the chair in front of his desk. “Would you like to sit down?”

No. Yes. She couldn't decide if it would be easier to say what she had to say from a sitting position. Finally the trembling in her legs made the decision for her.

“Thanks,” she said, and sat.

“You've seen my father?”

“He's at the hospital with his daughter and grandson all day every day.” And you have his eyes, she wanted to say as she stared into the bottomless dark blue.

“He's retired,” Gabe informed her, a touch of defensiveness in his tone. “He has the time.”

“I'm not going to split hairs with you, Gabe. I'll get straight to the point.”

“Which is?”

She folded her hands together so tightly that there was a real possibility of cutting off circulation. “Amy turned to you in her time of need.”

“And I was there when she needed me.”

“She still needs you.”

He shook his head. “Dad's with her.”

“She needs
all
her family now.”

“I'm not sure what more I can do. Dad's taking her back to Texas.”

That comment reeked of passing the buck. As if Amy was too much trouble now that he knew what she was dealing with. “So the fact that she'll be in a different state somehow absolves you of involvement?”

“I thought you were getting to the point,” he said.

“Okay.” She met his gaze without flinching. “You have issues with me. Why are you punishing your sister?”

“I'm working. That has nothing to do with my sister.”

“And you can't walk the short distance to see her? You can even drop by after visiting hours because you have an official Mercy Medical badge with the handy-dandy magnetic strip that allows you in whenever you want.”

If only she had a badge to swipe that could keep him out of her heart.

“It's complicated,” he said, pain and guilt mixing together on his face.

“It's not complicated. You're reacting to the information that I was sexually assaulted.”

Anger flashed through his eyes. “You should have told me what happened to you.”

“I don't see why.” That was a defensive lie. She knew now.

“I had a right to know.” His expression was full of accusation.

“What difference would it have made?”

“When we were intimate—You should have—” He blew out a long breath.

“The man who raped me took my virginity, Gabe. He took something beautiful, something that I wanted to give to the man I fell in love with. He took that and left me with nothing but an ugly memory. It was mine to do with as I pleased and it pleased me to keep it to myself.”

Comprehension dawned in his expression. “That's what broke up your engagement.”

She nodded and was angry and mortified when her mouth trembled. Crying was not an option. When she could trust her voice, she said, “Things changed between us after I told him. He looked at me differently and wouldn't touch me. I'd worked hard to put it behind me and not feel like damaged goods and all that work was a waste because telling him put me right back to square one. In his eyes I was dirty. Then he said I was too much for him to deal with.”

“You could have trusted me,” Gabe said quietly.

“Yeah. Right. The way you're acting with your sister certainly inspires trust.” She couldn't keep the sarcasm out of her tone and didn't have the strength to be sorry.

“It's not the same—”

She held up her hand. “The point is it was my past. It's not something you just blurt out to anyone. You were my patient's brother. I didn't think it would matter whether or not you knew. Then it mattered too much.”

“Why?”

Because I love you, she wanted to say. She might have trusted him with that information once, but not now. “Forget it. The thing is, I'm here to find out why you're avoiding your sister. Do us both a favor and don't blame it on work again.”

“I wasn't going to.”

“Then what is it? Amy is a single teenage mother. She has a little boy who is your nephew. You have to help her—”

“No.” He stood suddenly and the angles of his face seemed sharper with intensity. “I've helped her with all I can. I can't do anything for her now.”

“Of course you can—The baby needs—”

“How can I do anything for the baby when I don't even want to see it?”

“What?” She couldn't believe she'd heard right.

“I don't want to see the baby,” he repeated. He closed his eyes for a moment and released a shuddering breath. “And if that's not bad enough, I'm jealous of my sister.”

“I don't understand.”

“She didn't want her child, Rebecca. I know why now. It's not her fault. What happened to her bites, and I'd like nothing better than five minutes alone with the creep. I'm angry about what he did. And angry for myself. I can't help it. She has what I wanted more than anything in the world, and fate snatched it right out of my hands.”

“What are you saying?”

“Hannah and I were going to have a baby.”

She couldn't have been more shocked if he'd slapped her. Going to have a baby. Past tense. Oh, God. She whispered the question. “What happened, Gabe?”

“She was pregnant when that car plowed into her. Did you know that a baby can only live four to five minutes inside its dead mother?” His eyes were dark with the awful memories. “Of course you do. You're a doctor. You're a smart lady.”

“They had to take the baby early,” she guessed.

“Right in one,” he confirmed. He smiled, but it wasn't the least bit comforting. It was a dark and frightening expression. Then his gaze lost focus, as if he were somewhere else entirely. “She was a fighter.” He met her gaze. “I named her Lillian, after my mother.”

“Oh, Gabe—” She stood and reached out a hand, then curled her fingers into her palm and put her fist on his desk.

“Lilly lived for a week in the neonatal intensive care unit. She was a little bit bigger than the palm of my hand and had tubes everywhere. Her cry—” He stopped and shook his head. “It was so tiny. I didn't know if she was in pain, and that tore me apart because I was willing her to survive and that could have been torture. But I needed her to live. I'd just lost her mother and I wanted to keep a part of Hannah with me. I was there the whole time, watching Lilly's little chest rise and fall, listening for the beep of whatever piece of equipment was keeping her alive. Then she started to fail and there was nothing more they could do. And all I had left was silence.”

“Gabe, I'm so sorry for your loss.” Pathetic, inadequate words.

“I know.” The intensity drained out of him and he just looked tired. “I'm sorry, too.”

Rebecca was sorry for him and herself. He'd lost the will to care when his child died. She only knew about him losing Hannah and thought she understood him, but she realized she wasn't even close. She hadn't truly known hope was grasping for purchase inside her until it slipped away. The power of the pain surprised her even more, and there was no treatment that could ease the ache of being right that he could never love her. There was no comfort in the fact that it had nothing to do with her past and everything to do with his.

“Gabe, what happened to you was horrible. Worse than horrible. I can't even put it into words.”

“There's a
but
coming,” he said.

“No one knows better than a doctor that tragedy happens. It's part of life and if there's any positive at all, it's that people are determined to get more out of whatever time they have. Hold on to the feeling of how short our existence is, how fragile, how unfair when it's taken too soon. Some are inspired by loss.”

“I'm not.”

“That's too bad.” She took a deep breath. “I didn't know Hannah, but she must have been extraordinarily special if you and Amy loved her so much. Something tells me she'd be really ticked off at you for hiding from life.”

“Don't you dare tell me I have to go on,” he said angrily. “You have no idea what it was like.”

“You're right. I don't know. But you can't run away from life because of the bad stuff.”

“Watch me.” The words were clipped and cold.

She pulled her sweater tight around her and hated how much she wished it was his arms. “It does explain why you hate hospitals. I'm deeply sorry you didn't get your miracle, but I can't regret that Amy did.”

“Now you know what a self-centered bastard I am.”

“Not yet. But you're close.”

His eyes narrowed. “What does that mean?”

“Hannah and your daughter, Lilly, had no choice about abandoning you. You're right about fate being responsible for that.”

“Your point?”

“What you're doing to your sister is different. Your behavior is a conscious choice to abandon her and her child, your nephew. Your family. If you turn your back, it's unforgivable.” She started out of his office and hesitated, then looked at him again. “I heard a saying once that stuck with me. We make a living by what we get. We make a life by what we give.” She stared at him, memorizing every line, angle and shadow of his face while pain cut through her. When tears burned the back of her eyes, she willed them not to fall. It took every ounce of her self-control to keep her voice steady. “I never really understood what that meant until I met you.”

After a night spent alternately remembering Rebecca telling him off and missing her, Gabe was tired. The walk down the hospital corridor toward his sister's room had never seemed so long before. He didn't necessarily agree with everything the doc had said, but one barb had hit home and stuck. He'd lost too many people he cared about. If he didn't see Amy now, the damage might be insurmountable. The rift between them was just closing, and this could tear them apart forever.

It was lunchtime and he'd called to make sure his sister hadn't been discharged. In the hallway outside her room, he stopped and steeled himself. He caught a glimpse of his father putting stuffed animals and baby clothes into bags that he set by the chair. Then he gathered balloon and flower arrangements together into a group.

Carleton's back was to the door. “I think that's everything, Amy. We just need the doctor's okay and we can go.”

“Then I guess I'm just in time.” Gabe took a step inside the room and looked at his sister, sitting on the bed and holding the baby.

“Gabe!”

His sister's smile lit up her face for just a moment, then disappeared. For a split second she'd looked radiant. Now hostile Amy was back, and he couldn't really blame her.