Read Just Beginning: A Prequel to Just Destiny (Destiny #1) Page 2
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Gabe Harrison felt every one of the twenty-four hours he’d been awake. A short two-hour nap didn’t cut it anymore. He pressed his fingers over stinging eyes and then finished typing in the post-op orders. His long night on call had ended with an emergency appendectomy. He’d catch up on sleep today, but before heading home he needed to check on a patient’s latest lab results.
Michael Campbell worried him. Two days ago he’d removed the boy’s ruptured spleen. Healthy before his accident, the twelve-year-old should have bounced back faster, yet his hemoglobin remained low and he just didn’t look right.
Gabe yawned, scraped a hand over bristly cheeks, and scrolled through Michael’s latest blood work. Not bad, but not good. He glanced at the wall clock. Six. He’d examine the incision and see if Michael was better. His partner would check the boy during morning rounds, but Gabe would sleep better having checked on Michael himself.
Might as well. Gabe had no plans today other than picking up his laundry from the cleaners on the way to Wednesday afternoon tennis. He pushed the tablet back in the charging rack and blew out a deep breath before heaving to his feet and crossing the hall to room 496. He paused in the open doorway.
A young woman slept half-sitting in a chair, half-draped across the bed next to Michael. Her slim hand held the boy’s, as she pillowed her head in the crook of her folded arms. Beautiful brown hair the color of a rich, warm dark ale cascaded down her back to a shapely buttocks, perched on one bent leg.
Wonder if her hair’s as silky and heavy as it looks. Probably smells great too. All fresh and sexy. Gabe jammed his hands in his lab coat pocket. She’d pulled it back in a ponytail yesterday morning, but he was pretty sure she was the same woman who ran into him.
Gabe cocked his head and frowned. How can she sleep that way? That can’t be comfortable. This must be the mystery lady claiming to be Michael’s mother, and he knew for a fact she was not. Mary Campbell was a slight woman with short auburn hair, probably in her late forties, early fifties. Careful not to wake them, Gabe stepped closer, moving to the foot of Michael’s bed.
The pair shared a similarity in their delicate features and heart-shaped faces, but whereas Michael’s came from youth, the woman’s came from femininity. Disregarding hair colors, he detected a strong likeness. She was too old to be his sister and Mary Campbell looked too young to have a daughter this age. An aunt? Why visit in the middle of the night?
The pair looked so innocent and defenseless in sleep, Gabe had the strange urge to fold both of them in his arms and hold on tight. The scene reminded him of the many nights he’d come home from a late night call and wandered in to check on his children. Standing by their beds watching them sleep had reassured him. Now he came home to an empty house.
Examine the patient, Harrison. Gabe cleared his throat then slapped his feet down loudly as he approached the bed.
The young woman’s eyes popped open, revealing pale irises ringed in deep blue.
What stunning eyes.
They stared at each other several long seconds before she eased away from the boy and pushed mussed hair away from her face. Tugging her sweater down in the back where it rode up, she continued to watch him through wide eyes, as if trying to gauge his mood.
Gabe flashed her a brief smile, then turned to Michael, who rubbed his face. “Hey buddy, how’re you feeling?”
The door pushed wide open, circulating fresh air into the stuffy room. Michael’s sleepy gaze settled beyond Gabe to where Mary Campbell breezed into the room. Guilt flashed across the boy’s face but was instantly replaced by wide-eyed anxiety as he looked at the young woman at his side. He clutched her hand in a white-knuckled grasp.
His mother came to an abrupt halt. Her soft welcoming smile evaporated the second she spotted the young woman. Stiffening, she scowled at Michael’s visitor.