Three
Luke
The little girl definitely had a fever, but it wasn’t anything to really worry about. Not the way her mom was fretting at least. But I could tell the woman was stressed and needed some reassurance, so I let her in.
Okay, so that wasn’t the only reason I’d turned around, opened up the office again, and led them back to the examining room. She looked stressed, for sure, but she was also gorgeous. A halo of curly, sunshine golden hair surrounded her heart-shaped face in a short bob, spiraled tendrils falling in front of her soft brown eyes that were rimmed with the purple shadows of sleepless nights.
She was bending over the examination table, stroking her daughter’s forehead and it gave me the chance to appreciate her petite, curvy body.
Mine, my bear growled, urging me to get closer, to touch her, to inhale the sweet daffodil and lilac scent of her. But I shook my head at it, trying to focus on my work. On the child.
“How old is she?” I asked.
“Four. Her name’s Ella.”
“Hi Ella,” I said, injecting my voice with that kind sweetness us doctors reserve for kids. I wasn’t a pediatrician, but being a rural doc meant you had to be ready for just about anything, so she wasn’t the first kid I’d seen.
Her eyes blinked open and I could see instantly how miserable she felt when she winced at the bright lights and tried to hide her head, groaning and sniffling.
“My name’s Dr. Bradford and I want to help you feel better, okay?” Then, turning to the mother, I asked, “How long has she had the fever?” I started taking her vitals and checking her over, looking for any signs of infection or anything that might cause the temperature other than illness. But the kid looked fine.
“I… uh…” She sighed and dropped her head, her shoulders stooping. “I don’t know. She was spending the day with her dad and he didn’t notice she wasn’t feeling well. I was at work all day and picked her up and—” She waved her arms helplessly.
“And you took off down the mountain like a hellion to get here before I closed,” I said with a smirk. She looked a little sheepish, maybe even embarrassed by it, but she shrugged.
“She’s my baby.”
“Don’t worry. You were right to bring her in. You never know when a fever could be indicative of a more serious problem.”
Her tired-looking eyes went wide with worry then and I jumped to stop her from arriving at the wrong conclusion.
“No, no. She’s fine. Probably just the flu. It’s been going around and from what you’ve told me of her symptoms, it seems to fit. She just needs rest, and lots of fluids. Soup, water, even popsicles,” I added, grinning at the groggy little girl.
It at least got a smile out of her.
The woman seemed to melt with relief and it was all I could do not to dash in and sweep her into my arms.
Mine, my bear roared more insistently. He was urging me forward, filling my mind with images of this woman in ecstasy, her legs wrapped around me, her head thrown back in pleasure. He was filling my imagination with the thought of her lips forming around my name, screaming it to the heavens. Us, making a den, filling it with even more children…
Yeah, living with my bear in my head was like having an asshole roommate who could only ever think about sex. And it always cropped up at the most inopportune times.
“So, she’s going to be okay. I don’t need to get a prescription or anything?”
I shook my head. “Some ibuprofen should help lower the fever and make her more comfortable to sleep.” Normally, I’d call it a day at that. For the flu, I never asked anyone to follow up unless their symptoms didn’t show any improvement in a week. But something came over me. Maybe it was just my bear, but I needed to see this woman again and I didn’t care how that happened as long as it happened.
“Thank you so much for seeing us, Dr. Bradford. I really appreciate you opening the door for us and letting us in even after you closed.” She bit her bottom lip, nibbling it, worrying at it, and my bear instantly produced scenes of me capturing that lip with mine, devouring her mouth, tasting her, invading her with my tongue, her nails clinging to my shoulders for dear life while I swallowed her moans.
“It’s no trouble at all,” I said, surprising myself. “And please, call me Luke.”
Her cheeks reddened and she sent her eyes down to the floor, turning and hiding it by picking up Ella. “Claire,” she said.
“Well, Claire, why don’t we make you two an appointment for next week and I’ll make sure everything’s still okay?”
She hesitated for a minute, considering it. “I probably should have mentioned that I don’t have any insurance?” she said, worrying her bottom lip again. “I know I said I’d pay you whatever you want, but it might take me some time to come up with—”
I held up a hand and shook my head at her. “Don’t worry about it.”
“What? No, I have to pay you, you can’t just—”
“Come in next week and we’ll discuss it. I knew life up here was hard before I set up practice on this mountain. I’m used to working with folks.”
Her eyes flashed with something I thought looked a lot like gratitude, but then they turned harder, narrowing at me.
“I don’t need your charity, Dr. Bradford.”
“I never said you did, Claire.”
She pursed her lips then looked me up and down again, her eyes blazing in a way that made my skin feel like it was on fire, my bear prickling to the surface, roaring to get at her. But I had to beat him back. I couldn’t just let him roam loose with an unsuspecting woman and her child in the mix. And as much as I wanted Claire, I could tell that I’d insulted her by not letting her pay me. I didn’t know how to explain that I worked almost exclusively for barters and trades. The last person who’d actually paid me with cash was an out-of-town contractor who’d gotten injured building a vacation home up near the summit. I wasn’t giving her special treatment even if I thought she might deserve it.
“There are other ways to pay besides money,” I said, not realizing how it sounded until her jaw dropped, her eyes going wide as saucers, and her cheeks burned crimson.
Quickly, I stumbled to cover my tracks. “I didn’t mean… That came out wrong. You see those windows?” I asked, pointing toward the front of the office. “They got knocked out by a limb after a storm last summer. Sam Franks replaced them for me for setting his son’s broken arm. Mrs. Vanderburg pays me in pies whenever her cat gets into a pickle. All I’m saying is we’ll work something out, but I’d really like you to bring Ella in again next week.”
Finally, the defensive set of her shoulders faded away and her death grip on the little girl loosened.
“I’m sorry,” she said, shaking her head. “I should have known you didn’t mean…” She looked absolutely mortified and I wanted to laugh to let her know it was all right, but at the same time, I thought laughing might only make her madder. She didn’t know me well enough to not take it the wrong way, so I didn’t say anything, I didn’t do anything, I just let her gather her thoughts.
“It’s been a really long day,” she sighed, shaking her head, offering me the tiniest smile.
I returned the smile, but mine was bigger, reassuring instead of uncertain like hers. “I understand, trust me.”
She seemed much more relaxed as I led her to the front desk and waited for the computer to start up.
“Have you been on the mountain long?” I asked, trying to make idle small talk while the desktop took its sweet ass time to boot.
She shrugged, hefting Ella to the other hip. “My whole life more or less, you?”
“I did my residency down at Mountain Hospital and I’ve got family in the area. Once I got established here, I decided I never wanted to leave.”
That made her smile and it was the first smile I’d seen from her. It sucked the air right out of my lungs, all of my awareness focused in a pinpoint on her and that dazzling smile.
MINE, roared my bear. I was starting to think he might have a point in all of this.
“That’s kind of bold. This isn’t really the lifestyle for everyone. I don’t know that I would have picked it if I had the choice.”
I clicked through various pop-ups and notifications, just trying to get to my scheduling program. I couldn’t really explain to someone who wasn’t a shifter what it felt like to have one half of you long for the wilderness, for seclusion and nature. Not to mention when I came here, my bear immediately decided this would be his territory. It didn’t matter how many other places I went, how far away I traveled to conferences and vacations. He always demanded we come back here. I didn’t exactly have the choice Claire thought I did, but how could I tell her that?
I couldn’t, so it was best to redirect the topic.
“Well, have you ever considered leaving?”
She shrugged, letting out a heavy sigh. “I used to think about it when I was younger. I thought about going as far away as I could. Maybe somewhere with an ocean, sandy beaches, a strip mall on every corner. Somewhere you don’t have to drive two hours just for the grocery store… But then I had Ella and I started paying more attention to all the bad things that happen in cities. Abductions and shooting and burglary. You don’t have to worry about that kind of stuff out here. Most people don’t even use their locks. So I figure it’s a good exchange for peace of mind. For knowing my little girl’s safe… As long as she’s not with her shithead of a father,” she grumbled the last bit under her breath, rolling her eyes. Then she looked at me, mortified. “God, I’m so sorry, that’s not your problem at all.”
I chuckled and shook my head. “Not to worry. I can’t say I blame you.” So what if it was bad form to badmouth another man in front of the mother of his child? I was running on pure animalistic possessiveness now and Claire didn’t belong to that other guy, whoever the hell he was, she was mine.
I chastised that voice in my head, reminding myself that she didn’t belong to anyone. She was a woman, not an object. As much as my bear wanted me to claim her, that was something that could only happen if she consented. I couldn’t just take her.
And it wasn’t just her that I wanted to claim as my own. The little girl with her honey blonde curls and chubby cheeks was so cute. The way she grinned at me when I told her popsicles were her medicine nearly made my heart shatter. I’d never given a whole lot of thought to kids — you kind of needed a mate to have cubs, and it seemed I’d never find one of those — but suddenly, the idea of tiny feet pitter-pattering through the house, small voices shrieking with laughter, a beautiful woman swollen with my child, they all filled me with a longing I couldn’t really explain.
“Here we go, finally,” I said, scrolling through the appointment book. It probably wasn’t even necessary to check the thing since I had so few regular patients, but it did give me an excuse to talk to Claire some more, so I wasn’t complaining.
“What time’s good for you?” I asked.
“Um… late afternoon, preferably?”
“Does six Monday work?”
She nodded. “I can do that, yeah.”
“Perfect, I’ll see both of you then. Here’s a reminder,” I said, scribbling the date and time on one side of the card. “All my contact info is on the other side. If anything changes, her symptoms get worse, anything at all, don’t hesitate to call me,” I said, adding my cell number to the card.
Claire took it from me, both of our fingers holding the card for a moment before I released it.
“Thank you Doctor… Luke. Thank you again,” she said with a little smile.
“Can I walk you to your car?”
The smile grew a fraction and she nodded. “I’d like that.”
And again, my bear roared.