Wanted: Parents for a Baby! (12 page)

“I'm not sure, but even if I can, it might be too difficult anyway, since I have to work around my schedule or find a way to get off. Although that's not easy during the summer months when everyone else is off.”

“Is there anything I can do to help?” he asked.

She shook her head and took a step back, severing the physical connection between them. He instantly missed her warmth. Her smile. Her laughter. “No. This is something I need to do myself.”

He watched her walk back over to Emma's warmer, his heart aching with regret. He knew there was a tiny spot in his heart that had remained frozen ever since Victoria's and
his son's deaths. He wasn't capable of loving Cassie the way she deserved.

So why did he long for her so desperately?

T
HE NEXT MORNING
, Cassie woke up feeling energized, full of a new sense of purpose. Normally, she didn't look forward to Mondays—who did? But since it was a weekday, she was able to take the next steps in the process of becoming a foster parent. And even though there was a part of her that knew she was using the process as a way to forget about Ryan, she eagerly booted up her computer.

The sooner she signed up for the classes, the better her chances were of actually getting in.

When she'd read up on being a foster parent, she'd learned that safe-haven babies were able to go through the path from fostering to adopting much quicker than in other cases.

Of course there was always a six-month wait, in case the mother changed her mind.

Cassie couldn't deny that the thought of
Emma's mother showing up and requesting custody was depressing. Especially since the baby had gone through narcotic withdrawal.

Still, anything was possible. For now, she needed to focus on the issues at hand, rather than worrying about the what-if scenarios.

As she ate breakfast, Cassie went to the Health and Human Services website to find the classes she needed. She double-clicked on the first one and prayed that it wasn't already full.

It wasn't and she quickly entered the required fields on the website, letting out a squeal as she hit enter. The hourglass spun in the center of the screen for what seemed like forever, before a message finally popped up on the screen.

“Accepted! I'm accepted in the first class!” Cassie jumped up and danced around her postage-stamp-sized kitchen.

Music blared from her phone, and Cassie danced over, her enthusiasm dimming as she noted the caller was Gloria.

She did her best to hide her elation over being accepted in the first class as she answered. “Hi, Gloria, how are you doing?” By the time she'd left work last night, Trey still hadn't woken up, although the ICU team had
put him on a hypothermia protocol to preserve his brain function, much like they did for cardiac-arrest patients.

Trey really was getting the best medical care possible.

“Better this morning. They're going to start bringing Trey's temperature back up,” Gloria said. “Once his temperature is within normal range, they'll back off on the sedation and we'll know if he'll wake up or not.”

“I know it's hard, but you have to be strong for him and your family, Gloria,” Cassie said encouragingly.

“I know. I'm trying,” Gloria admitted.

“What do the neurologists think?” she asked.

“They won't say much one way or the other, but based on how young he is, they're cautiously optimistic.”

Of course the doctors wouldn't make promises they couldn't keep, but at the same time they didn't want families to lose hope either. “Do you want me to come and sit with you in the ICU?” she offered.

“No, my parents are here, so there's no need for you to come. I just wanted to give you an update. It's good news they're bringing him out of the hypothermia protocol.”

“I agree,” she assured her friend. “Keep in touch, Gloria.”

“I will.”

Cassie disconnected from the call, set her phone aside, and then returned to sit at her kitchen table in front of the computer. Before she could log back in to the site, her phone sang again.

This time Ryan's name popped up on the screen and despite the way her pulse jumped, she hesitated for a moment, gathering her defenses, before answering. “Hello?”

“Good morning, Cassandra. How are you?”

She strove to keep her voice steady. “I'm fine, Ryan, how are you? I hope your night on call wasn't too bad.”

“I managed to get a little over four hours of sleep, so I can't complain.”

“That's good.” Their conversation was awkward, stilted, and she wished he'd get to the point already. She couldn't believe he'd called just to ask how she was doing.

“We started weaning Emma this morning,” he said, breaking the strained silence. “I don't know if she'll be extubated today or tomorrow, but hopefully soon.”

“That's wonderful news,” she said, thrilled
beyond belief that the baby was improving. “That must mean her lungs still look good.”

“Clear as a bell,” he said, with a hint of humor in his voice. He was so attractive when he smiled although really he didn't smile often enough. “We caught the aspiration quickly enough to prevent pneumonia.”

“I'm so glad.” Cassie imagined how great it would be once Emma's breathing tube was removed and she could finally hold the baby in her arms. Even though she was off today, she was tempted to go in just to hold Emma.

“Did you sign up for the foster-care classes?” he asked.

“Yes, the first class is Thursday and thankfully I'm off work, so that's good. I was about to sign up for the other classes, too, but Gloria called to let me know that they're warming Trey up today. They put him on the hypothermia protocol yesterday after he got up to the ICU to prevent his brain from swelling.”

“I know. I checked on him late last night, too,” Ryan admitted. “Once he's warmed up, they'll ease off on the sedation to see if he'll wake up.”

She was tempted to ask him why he cared so much about Trey's overdose, but she
doubted he'd tell her over the phone something he wouldn't tell her in person.

Besides, she wasn't going to dwell on the details regarding his personal life, right? Right.

“Will you let me know if Emma gets extubated?” she asked, changing the focus of the conversation back to the baby.

“Absolutely. Are you free for dinner?” he asked. “There's a great Italian place overlooking Lake Michigan. We won't see the sunset since the lake is obviously in the east, but it's still an amazing view.”

She pulled her phone away from her ear and stared at it in confusion. Why was he asking her out? Especially after the way he'd pulled away after their kiss?

Despite how badly she wanted to say yes, she forced herself to rein in her emotions. “I don't think so,” she said. “You're the one who told me that you weren't ready for a relationship.”

“I know, but I can't stop thinking about you, Cassandra,” he admitted in a low, gravelly tone that sent shivers of awareness dancing down her spine. “For the first time since Victoria died, I feel alive. And I'm pretty sure it's because of you.”

Her heart squeezed in her chest and she drew in a harsh breath. She knew she should refuse, if for no other reason than to protect her heart, but at the same time it was difficult to ignore his request. Did she dare believe that something more permanent might grow between them? Would her being a foster mother be enough for him someday? Or would he want children of his own?

“Cassie, please,” he said, when she didn't answer. “Say you'll have dinner with me?”

Her heart spoke before her brain could overrule her snap decision. “Yes, Ryan,” she said huskily. “I'd be happy to have dinner with you.”

“Thanks,” he murmured. “I'd like to bring the convertible since the weather is nice.”

“I'd like that,” she agreed, ignoring the tiny niggle of doubt that this was a good decision.

“Sounds good. I'll pick you up at seven o'clock.”

“All right. See you then.” Cassie disconnected and then buried her face in her hands.

What was she doing? Going out with Ryan again was not part of her plan. Hadn't she told herself not to risk getting emotionally involved with him?

Yes, but obviously she was too late.

She was already emotionally involved with Ryan, whether she wanted to be or not.

She cared about him, far too much.

* * *

Ryan knew he was grinning like a fool when he walked back into the NNICU to check on Emma's condition, but he didn't care if the staff stared at him.

Cassie was giving him another chance. Only this time he had to figure out a way not to blow it.

A feat easier said than done.

“She's tolerating the new vent settings very well,” Claire said when he approached Emma's warmer. The speculation in the nurse's gaze made him wonder if the rumors had already started about him seeing Cassie.

Oddly enough, the idea didn't bring on a wave of desperate panic the way it had after the Shana fiasco.

“I'm glad to hear it,” he said, glancing down at the arterial blood gas results Claire had given him. “Follow the weaning pattern for the rest of the day, but call me before you leave for the day.”

“Okay,” Claire agreed. “No big plans today?”

She was fishing for information, but
instead of becoming annoyed he simply smiled. “Talk to you later.”

He headed home, maintaining his good mood, happiness all but oozing from his pores. Knowing that he would see Cassie later that evening was enough to keep him motivated.

Because he hadn't lied to her about the effect she had on him. He felt alive, and couldn't help wondering if that small frozen part of his heart was beginning to thaw.

Because of her. And Emma, too.

He pulled into the driveway, glad to see the Realtor had already posted a For Sale sign in his front yard. He knew better than to get his hopes up that he'd manage to sell the albatross quickly, but his good mood refused to be dampened.

For months now he'd put off the job of packing up the things he didn't need. Victoria's family had taken her things, along with the baby furniture, a long time ago, so only his belongings were left.

Way more things that one man needed, that was for sure.

Ryan forced himself to head to the gym before tackling the job of packing up the items he didn't need. The Realtor, Andrea, told him
the less clutter in his house, the better it would look to prospective buyers.

He had no reason not to believe her.

A few hours later, after he'd packed four large boxes, his phone rang. He picked it up, recognizing Trammel's number.

“This is Ryan Murphy,” he said by way of greeting.

“Dr. Murphy, did you leave a message asking me to call?” Trammel asked.

“Yes, I did,” Ryan admitted. Holding the phone to his ear, he crossed the kitchen for the list he'd made earlier. “I did a search on physicians named Oliver Stevenson in neighboring states. It's possible one of their DEA numbers matches the one used to fill the prescriptions.”

“Just the neighboring states?” Trammel asked dryly. “I'm surprised you didn't check all fifty.”

“I will if you'd like,” Ryan offered, even though he knew the detective was kidding. Trammel didn't understand how badly he wanted to find the identity of the person who was behind these fake scripts.

“I'll take this list for now,” Trammel said, “but I have to be honest—it's possible the doctor could be from anywhere.”

Trammel wasn't telling him anything he hadn't already considered himself. But they had to start somewhere and it made sense that the DEA number was from a physician close by, rather than on the other side of the country.

“I'll scan the list and email it to you,” Ryan said. “Give me your email address.”

Trammel rattled it off for him, while he scribbled the information on a scrap piece of paper.

“I'll let you know if anything pops from the list,” Detective Trammel said.

Ryan knew that Trammel was making an effort to include him in as much of the investigation as possible and he was deeply grateful. “I appreciate that, Detective.”

“Just remember to leave the investigating to me,” Trammel added wryly.

He couldn't help but grin. “I'll try.”

After disconnecting from the call, Ryan decided to go through his bedroom closet before ending his packing for the day. He grimaced when he saw the number of suits he had, along with all the golf pants and shirts.

He hadn't hit a single golf ball since Victoria's death. And, truthfully, he didn't miss
it. Golf was part of the life he'd wanted nothing more to do with after losing his unborn son. So he started with those items first, putting them in a bag that he'd give to the Salvation Army.

As he worked, a small brown folder fell out from one of the pockets of his golf pants. He went still, realizing what the small envelope contained.

A copy of the sonogram photo of his unborn son.

His fingers shook a bit as he picked it up and opened the metal clasp. He pulled out the small square of radiology film and held it up to the light.

The tiny body of his son was easy to see.

His throat tightened and the old familiar guilt squeezed his heart. His marriage to Victoria hadn't been great, but he'd wanted this baby so badly. It had been difficult to accept that his son hadn't been given a fair chance to live.

His heart squeezed in his chest, but for the first time in years he wasn't consumed with anger at the unfairness of it all—mad at Victoria for being selfish and at himself for being blind and stupid.

Instead, he grew more determined than
ever to make sure Emma was provided the chance to grow and thrive in a way his son hadn't been able to.

* * *

Cassie vacillated between looking forward to dinner with Ryan and wondering if she should cancel.