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Doctor, Soldier, Daddy
Caro Carson
Just what the doctor ordered!Dashing soldier Jamie MacDowell needs a mother for his infant son and, while the handsome MD has no shortage of candidates, he lets his son help with the selection. When little Sam falls for Kendry Harrison, Jamie quickly finds himself attracted to her – and, if he’s not careful, in danger of wrecking their carefully set up “arrangement”…Kendry knows her marriage to Jamie is strictly business, but that doesn’t stop her from dreaming of a more permanent place in his heart. If only he’d stop resisting the passion simmering between them.Then maybe he’d realise they were meant to be married in every sense of the word…
An army physician on a mission needs a mother for his child—and plain Jane Kendry Harrison is just what the doctor ordered, in the first book in debut author Caro Carson’s miniseries, The Doctors MacDowell!
Dashing soldier Jamie MacDowell needs a mother for his infant son, stat! And while the handsome M.D. has no shortage of candidates, he lets his baby boy help with the selection. Little Sam falls for quiet Kendry Harrison—a surprising choice, maybe. But Jamie quickly realizes that the orderly’s sweet veneer hides a multitude of attractions—and if he’s not careful, he could wind up wrecking their carefully set-up “arrangement.”
Kendry knows her marriage to Jamie is strictly business, but that doesn’t stop her from dreaming of a more permanent place in the healer’s heart. If only he’d stop resisting the passion simmering between them. Then maybe he’d realize they were made for each other…and meant to be married in every sense of the word....
“Marry me.”
For one second, Kendry was shocked. The next, she was hurt. Jamie didn’t know what he was playing with. He couldn’t know how hard she was working toward that nursing degree. Still, to joke about marrying someone was odd. “You had me going there for a minute. I thought you were serious.”
“I’ve never been more serious. Marry me.”
“Marriage? We’re barely friends.”
“We’re definitely friends.”
“But—” She groped for the right thing to say. What she was hearing was so far from what she could possibly have expected. “You don’t marry someone because you’re friends.”
“You are more than just a friend to me, Kendry.”
Doctor,
Soldier, Daddy
Caro Carson
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
Despite a no-nonsense background as a West Point graduate and US Army officer, CARO CARSON has always treasured the happily-ever-after of a good romance novel. After reading romances no matter where in the world the army sent her, Caro began a career in the pharmaceutical industry. Little did she know the years she spent discussing science with physicians would provide excellent story material for her new career as a romance author. Now, Caro is delighted to be living her own happily-ever-after with her husband and two children in the great state of Florida, a location which has saved the coaster-loving, theme-park fanatic a fortune on plane tickets.
Dedication
With love for Richard, who knew I would write this book long before I did.
Acknowledgements
I am indebted to my critique partners for keeping me on track despite distractions and obstacles.
Thank you to my partners and friends, T. Elliott Brown, Catherine Kean and Nancy Robards Thompson.
Contents
Chapter One (#u3658aaa0-59d7-556c-9cdb-e14fa1033e83)
Chapter Two (#u28ccadc5-3648-579a-94f5-63e43c913e4e)
Chapter Three (#u0b3739d1-6cbe-5f1f-a8eb-398a8847e334)
Chapter Four (#uf36bf091-df05-5ae1-8373-ed5634597be9)
Chapter Five (#uedf8835a-6dc6-54ed-b302-514756b28d08)
Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Thirteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Fourteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Fifteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Sixteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Seventeen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eighteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Nineteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-One (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-Two (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-Three (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter One
River Mack Ranch, Texas
“You’re letting a baby choose your wife?”
Jamie MacDowell chose not to answer that question. Instead, he contemplated the campfire as he let his brother’s outraged tone roll off his back. Braden, his oldest brother, cared. That was the real emotion behind the outrage. Jamie had gotten much better at recognizing emotions in the past two years.
“Hire a nanny for the baby. You don’t have to marry anyone.” His other brother, Quinn, sounded less outraged—but more condescending.
The sounds of the Texas twilight settling over their parents’ land filled the silence as Jamie stretched his legs out. He flicked a glance around the fire. It figured: he’d taken the identical pose as his brothers. Braden, Quinn and now Jamie sat with jean-clad legs stretched out fully, each man with his right cowboy boot crossed over his left. It was funny, really, the subconscious mannerisms families shared.
Two years ago, Jamie would have probably uncrossed his ankles, just to be different. But that was before Afghanistan. Before more than a year spent sewing up soldiers in an army hospital.
Before he’d brought his son, Sam, to the United States.
“A nanny can do the job perfectly well,” Quinn continued. “You don’t need a wife to take care of a baby.”
“To take care of my son,” Jamie corrected him. It was going to take his brothers some time to get used to the news that he was a father. He hadn’t communicated much while he was deployed. Returning to Texas with a nine-month-old had shocked them all. “Not ‘a baby.’ My son.”
“Right. He can be well cared for by a good nanny.”
Jamie uncrossed his ankles. Neither of his brothers were parents. They didn’t understand the impact, the complete sea change, of having a child. When he held Sam, Jamie knew that he was holding the most important thing in the world. It was a powerful emotion, one that ultimately made his life utterly simple. What his son needed, Jamie would provide.
His son needed a mother.
Not a nanny.
“I’m working in the E.R.,” Jamie said. “You know the hours. What nanny is going to be available nights, days, whole twenty-four-hour periods without notice?”
“Get a live-in nanny.” Naturally, Quinn had an immediate answer. He was a cardiologist. That particular species of doctor tended to be very math-oriented. Their world was physics. Pressure, diameter, beats per minute. Black and white.
In contrast, as an emergency physician, Jamie often had to wing it. Thinking on the fly, he came up with theories, tested and discarded them, until he’d diagnosed and stabilized whatever emergency had brought the patient to the hospital.
In Afghanistan, there’d been only one kind of emergency: injury. Some injuries were catastrophic, caused by explosives that destroyed so much of the body, Jamie raced the clock to stop the bleeding and keep the heart beating. Some were minor, a finger sliced open when a rifle was cleaned carelessly. All of them—all of them—required stitches. Sewing. Surgery. Jamie had performed more surgery as an emergency physician in the United States Army than many surgeons did in civilian life.
“What if I get deployed again?” Jamie asked both brothers. “Will the nanny guarantee her services for the length of my deployment? Will she write to me about Sam? Send me photos?”
Braden abruptly sat up from his lounging position. “I thought you were back to reserve duty, the one-weekend-a-month thing until your commitment was up. Did you sign a new contract?”
Jamie wanted to smile at the predictability of Braden’s response. Like Quinn and himself, Braden was also an M.D., but he ran the research side of a massive corporation. He thought in terms of contracts and legalities, of facts on paper. Like Quinn, Braden saw everything as black and white.
The way their father had seen the world.
Jamie stopped lounging, too. With a firm thunk, he set his half-finished bottle of beer on the dry Texas ground by his chair. He wasn’t like his father. Sam would have a better man to raise him.
“I’m in the reserves for another six months. I could be recalled to active duty tonight.”
Now Quinn sat up abruptly. Jamie felt their tension as both men looked at him intently.
“It’s okay,” Jamie said quietly. “It’s highly unlikely the army will send me back in the next six months.”
Braden dropped his gaze to the crackling fire. “It’s not that we aren’t proud of you.”
“I know. I’m proud to have served, too. There are times I’ve considered volunteering to go back. There’s so much work left to be done there.” Work that he’d seen one brave woman undertake. Work to promote literacy in the population. Work to provide health care to the poorest of the poor. Work to end the slavelike conditions in which so many Afghani girls were raised.
Work that had ultimately killed that one brave woman, leaving Jamie to raise Sam alone.
“A nanny’s not good enough. I want a wife. If something should happen to me, Sam will still have a legal guardian. An American legal guardian.”
“He’s your son, Jamie. Do you think we’d let the state put him in an orphanage?”
“No.” Jamie was touched. Braden had said your son. He, at least, was getting used to the idea of Sam being a MacDowell, not just a baby brought home from a war-torn country. “But Mom’s getting a little old to start over again with an infant, and look at you. Both of you. A couple of bachelor doctors with insane working hours. Sam needs a full-time parent.”
“Then hire a lawyer and make the nanny his legal guardian.” Quinn was still seeing in black and white, apparently, but Jamie had already come up with that theory and ruled it out.
“It’s easier to get married. A wife’s custody is rarely questioned.”
There had been no way to legally marry Sam’s mother, not on the American base, nor in any Afghani court or mosque. In the end, after her death, that had meant no locals would claim Sam as their own, either. Jamie had been able to get Sam out of the country by mixing State Department regulations and medical necessity, but if the paperwork ever got scrutinized...
If. He wouldn’t worry about that now. And if If happened, Sam belonging to an American husband and wife would be beneficial, compared to Sam being the child of a bachelor soldier.
Yes, Sam needed a mother. An American mother. Simple.
“I’m fine with a marriage based on practicality,” he told his brothers. “I never planned on getting married for any other reason.”
“You’re sure about that?” Quinn asked.
Jamie sat back in his camp chair and picked up his beer. He brushed the sandy dirt off the bottom of the bottle. When he’d been in Afghanistan, he’d told himself the dry soil wasn’t so different from Texas. He’d even been able to squint at the landscape and imagine himself home, if home had a lot of barbed wire and sandbag bomb shelters.
“I’m sure,” Jamie said. “Doctors make lousy husbands—look at Dad. He had no time for Mom. No time for any of us. Without Mom, we wouldn’t have had a parent at all. My kid needs a mother.”
Braden studied the label on his own beer bottle for a moment. “You’re not being fair to Dad. We had those fishing trips.”
“Yeah, once a year we’d saddle up the horses and pack up the tents and come out here to spend, what? Four days? With a guy we barely knew.”
“Still, he tried.”
“Yeah, he would have made a fine uncle. Not my idea of a father. My son is going to have a real parent, someone there for him every day, not just for a camping trip now and then. If something happens to me, he’s going to have another parent to finish raising him. I’ll be damned if I’ll leave him alone in this world. I’m getting married, and that’s it.”
“Slow down, Jamie. What happens if you find this perfect mother, but then you fall in love with another woman, someone you want for something besides mothering? Are you going to divorce the mother of your child to marry the woman you’re crazy about? An affair won’t cut it. I don’t care what this ‘perfect mother’ agrees to, she’s not going to be a Mrs. MacDowell and willingly turn a blind eye to her husband having an affair.”
“I’m not going to cheat on my wife, even if we aren’t in that kind of a marriage.”
“You need to think this through. I’ve been in love, Jamie.” Braden rarely talked about it, but he’d been engaged once. “It can hit you like a lightning strike.”
Jamie stood up and pulled the keys to his truck out of his pocket. “It already did, Braden, it already did.”
“But, then—”
“She died. Her name was Amina. She was brilliant. Beautiful. An Afghani woman who translated for me on medical missions. She died during the birth and she left me a son.”
Jamie dumped the rest of his beer onto a struggling scrub plant, then chucked the bottle into the bed of his pickup truck. “Lightning won’t strike twice.”
The shocked silence wasn’t what Jamie had intended to cause. He clapped Quinn on the shoulder and used the side of his boot to push his still-full beer cooler toward his brother’s camp chair. “You finish these for me this weekend. Mom’s been watching Sam long enough. I’m gonna run.”
Jamie had been away from his son for nearly two hours, and that was too long.
