Dr. Morgan Talbot was too handsome by half.

Rachel could spend hours just staring at him and watching the different expressions that crossed his face, listening to his deep musical laughter.

“Time for your examination, Rachel. Surely you don’t expect your daughter to be examined if you aren’t?”

“Oh.” Flushing, she nodded and added, “Very ingenious of you.” She stood and hopped up onto the tiny pediatric table.

“Did I mention you look nice in your navy suit?”

Her color inched up a notch. “Thank you, Doctor.”

“Now, lift your arm,” he said in his professional tone.

She lifted her arm.

“Now drop it.”

She dropped it. “Why?”

“I just wanted to see if you’d do it.”

Rachel smacked his arm. He chuckled and so did she.

CHERYL WOLVERTON

grew up in a military town, though her father was no longer in the service when she was born. She attended Tomlinson Junior High School and Lawton High School and was attending Cameron when she met her husband, Steve. After a whirlwind courtship of two weeks they became engaged. Four months later they were married, and that was over seventeen years ago.

Cheryl and Steve have two wonderful children, Christina, sixteen, and Jeremiah, thirteen. Cheryl loves having two wonderful teenagers in the house.

As for books, Cheryl has written eight novels for the Steeple Hill Love Inspired line and is currently working on new novels. Watch for her third book in the series HILL CREEK, TEXAS, as well as other surprises planned in the future. You can contact Cheryl at P.O. Box 207, Slaughter, LA 70777. She loves to hear from readers.

What the Doctor Ordered
Cheryl Wolverton

www.millsandboon.co.uk

And we know that all things work together for good to them that love God and are called according to his purpose.

—Romans 8:28

Dedicated to all the mothers and fathers who have been there for their kids.

Acknowledgments

James, big bro, this one is to you. What can I say? I love you.

Sometimes there are special people who touch your life, people you never forget. Years later you still remember the kind deeds they did or the gentle spirit they had. I know two such people. Dr. Jerry Youker. Your gentle spirit, your care for the person as a person and not just as a patient, has never left me! The way you allowed me to follow you around as a volunteer at Comanche County Memorial Hospital in Lawton, Oklahoma, will never be forgotten.

And Dr. Mogab! Oh, how I loved to be tested by you, as you’d let me look at X rays with you and go in rooms with you as you stitched up people! I still have those fond memories of being student to your teacher. Thank you both.

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Letter to Reader

Chapter One

She ran right into him—literally.

Rachel Anderson White stumbled and dropped the bags she’d been carrying in her arms.

“Whoa, there.” A large, strong hand reached out and steadied her. The firm, warm grip was definitely male, Rachel thought as she looked at the long, slim fingers and the dark skin that led to a well-muscled arm.

Rachel lifted her gaze to the deep brown eyes of one of the most gorgeous men she’d ever seen. She worked hard not to suck in a breath of disbelief. Dark, conservatively cut hair topped high cheekbones, straight nose and a firm, square jaw. Her gaze touched each of these features one by one before traveling to twinkling eyes that shone with warmth. When his mouth curved into a warm, friendly smile her heart thumped a bit faster.

“Are you all right?”

Rachel heard the question but stood stunned, quite unable to answer.

“Here, let me help you, Mrs….?”

The Mrs. snapped her out of her stupor, though she wasn’t sure if it was because that word still brought pain or if she wanted him to know she wasn’t married. “Miss. Rachel Anderson White. I didn’t mean to nearly knock you down. I was bringing supplies for my daughter’s class and not watching where I was…”

She noticed the child he carried on his left hip. Her cheeks heated as the dark-haired sparkling-eyed boy, no more than three or four years old, hugged the man and whispered something.

The hunk whispered gentle words to the child before a low chuckle filled the air around him. Glancing at Rachel, the man smiled.

“He’d like me to tell you he’s Jeremy and he went to ask Pastor Ben to pray for him because he’s sick.”

The little boy nodded, his shaggy brown bangs falling in his eyes, reminding her of a shaggy little dog as his head bobbed excitedly.

“I…see.” Rachel wasn’t sure what to say, since she didn’t attend church here and didn’t really know the pastor. “Are you feeling better?” she asked lamely.

The child grinned and nodded. “All better.”

Rachel chuckled. “Well, that’s good.”

Setting the young boy on his feet, the man paused to squeeze the boy’s shoulders. “Go back to class, Jeremy. You’ll be fine now.”

The little boy bounced down the hall without a backward glance, his fast gait echoing loudly on the tiled floor.

“By the way, I’m Morgan—”

“I hope it’s not serious?” Rachel said at the same time.

They both laughed.

Mild panic seized her that her daughter might be exposed to something that afflicted Jeremy and she’d have to take off work when she had just gotten her new job.

Morgan shook his head. “Not at all. He thought he had pinkeye, but he only has a mild cold. Still he wanted Pastor Ben to pray for him before he went back for his nap.”

Nap! The relief she’d started to feel at his words was instantly replaced with more panic.

“Oh, dear.” Rachel dropped to her knees and started gathering paper towels, a bag of finger paints, a tiny pink pillow, an apron and a ratty blue much-used blanket.

As she reached for the blanket, Morgan snatched it up, along with the paints and a box of tissues. “Here we go,” he said, and slipped the things into one of the bags she had been carrying. “Are you new here?”

Rachel paused in repacking the sacks. She was used to that question. In the past week she’d heard it from at least a dozen people here in Fairweather, Minnesota. Though she’d grown up in Fairweather and knew many of the people, she found, in the years since she’d moved away, married and had a child, new people had moved in, and the town had grown and changed, despite the fact it was a small community. This man and his child were two people she didn’t recognize, either. Mr. Morgan, she thought. “Yes and no,” she replied, smiling noncommittally.

Standing, she reached for the bags.

He picked them up before she could. “Allow me.”

Rachel bristled, but realized it was simply country manners. She’d lived in the big city too long, was used to everyone wanting something or expecting something in return, even her former husband.

Pain filled her heart at the memory. Betrayal, hurt and finally grief as she remembered the call to inform her that her husband had been killed in an auto accident. Nevertheless, that was then, this was now, a new start, a new way of things, new values. Forcing herself to relax, she nodded her thanks. “My daughter is new to the church day care,” Rachel said as a peace offering. She didn’t even know the new pastor. Though she’d been back almost two weeks, she’d not attended church. Her mother had informed her there was a new young pastor, but she had no desire to meet him, to hear any messages he preached, to hear anything about God. She’d bitterly learned that she had to depend on herself. Not others.

Morgan stepped back and motioned her to lead the way. “Ah, your daughter must be…Lindsay or maybe Chrissy?”

“You know the children that well?” Rachel asked, surprised.

The corners of his mouth crooked into a mischievous smile and he said, “I love kids.”

She found his grin infectious. Then she remembered why she was here. And why, despite how nice looking this man was, she didn’t have time for him or anyone else. She had to find herself and attempt to make a life here for Lindsay. With that in mind, Rachel strode past him and down the hall toward her daughter’s class.

The sound of music, laughter, cries, blocks being banged together and teachers teaching all mingled together in a type of controlled chaos as they walked to the nursery. Rachel knew that in this noise and movement children were actually learning. Her mother said this day care had warm, caring people and was the best in the area. That’s what Rachel wanted for her child. The best. The safest. In addition, it was the place least likely for Lindsay to have problems.

When they arrived at the room for three-year-olds, she searched the faces of the children for her daughter—and quickly found her.

Lindsay sat alone, in a corner, a stack of blocks in front of her as she built them up, higher and higher. The other children were in free time, but Lindsay—she acted as if she were unaware of the activity going on around her.

There was a simple explanation for that.

Lindsay was hearing impaired. Different, an oddity and shunned by many.

Including her father.

But not Rachel. Rachel loved her daughter more than life itself. That’s why she’d moved back to Fairweather. A small community would be a better environment for her. She wouldn’t have to put up with the many well-meaning people who continually said that Lindsay should be put in a special school. Or the ones who insisted she should have surgery—a surgery that might help if she would only find a doctor who could perform this amazing miracle operation that they just knew was out there for her daughter.

She’d been to Lindsay’s doctor. She’d been to her own doctor. They both agreed sending Lindsay to a special school for specific training was the first step. Later, maybe, they said, something would develop. Possibly surgery, but that probably wouldn’t help. All in all, the advice was to send her off to a home somewhere so people who were trained with kids like her could deal with her. She wasn’t sending her daughter away and that was that.

Julianne Quinn, who normally taught the four-year-olds, was teaching both classes today. Rachel had heard from her mother that Julianne had recently been jilted by her fiancé. Her mother wondered if perhaps that was why Julianne had been working so many hours lately. Tall, slim, with blond hair, she smiled at Rachel and moved over to touch Lindsay on the shoulder.

“Lindsay is mine,” Rachel finally said, answering the man’s earlier question.

“I see that,” he murmured.

Rachel couldn’t imagine how. Lindsay had blond hair and a round, cherubic face, just like her father had. The only thing Lindsay had inherited from Rachel was the blue eyes. Her ex-husband’s eyes had been green.

Maybe it was the way Lindsay’s eyes glowed as she ran to the door.

“Maanu Maanu,” the little girl said, and held her arms up.

Rachel bent over the small gate and lifted her daughter into her embrace. Kissing her on the forehead, she touched the child’s cheek to draw her attention to her mouth. “Mama. Mama has something for you.”

Turning, Rachel reached into the sack and pulled out the blanket, ratty blue but very much loved by her daughter.

“Bae ee.”

Rachel nodded, kissed her on the cheek and set her down. She added sign language to her words. “Go play, honey.”

Lindsay shook her head and tapped her fingers together.

“Mama will be back later. After nap time,” she said with a smile, doing what now came naturally and adding the signs for back later and after sleep.

Lindsay looked at her blocks in indecision until she saw Jeremy headed that way. Without a word, she turned and ran over to guard her territory, putting her arms around the blocks and babbling something at Jeremy.

Rachel chewed her lip, watching to see if Jeremy teased her. He didn’t. He handed her some more blocks and then plopped down near her with a car and started playing.

“Jeremy made it back.” Julianne said this to the man next to Rachel.

“Thanks. This is Miss White’s.” After handing the bags over the gate, Morgan stepped to one side.

Rachel relaxed slightly. She wasn’t used to having a man distracting her and didn’t like the feeling at all. “How’s she doing?”

Julianne smiled. “She’s doing fine. She’s adjusting. I think the hearing problem is continuing to keep her isolated from others. But a few of the more curious children have started trying to talk to her.”

“Children can be mean.”

Julianne nodded and said softly, “Or they can be the breakthrough. Earlier today, she sat near Chrissy and they shared an apple.”

Rachel nodded.

“Your daughter’s deaf?” Morgan asked, drawing Rachel’s attention to him.

“Partially. A degenerative thing.” Rachel didn’t like to talk to strangers about her daughter. And this was a stranger. “Excuse me. I have to get back to work.”

She smiled politely at the man and then said to Julianne, “If you need me, just call City Hall. I’ll be there another hour or two before I’m back to pick Lindsay up. Nice meeting you,” she said to the man and then waved to Julianne and started down the hall.

Morgan watched her leave, unmoving.

“She’s really good with her daughter, just a little overprotective, Dr. Talbot.”

Hearing Julianne’s voice, he realized he was still staring after the exceptional woman. He tried to force his attention from Rachel White but couldn’t bring himself to let her out of his sight. When she turned the corner, he finally turned his attention to Julianne. “Most parents are. Parents with handicapped children have emotions that most can’t understand.”

A touch of melancholy swept over him. Shaking his head, he forced the feeling aside. “If you need me again, just call. I have to get back to work.”

A smile touched the woman’s lips, and she nodded. The sound of a squabble caught their attention, and Julianne was off to handle the problem.

Morgan walked down the hall, intending to leave. Instead, he stopped at the end of the hall by the window that overlooked the square. Pushing the curtain back, he located exactly what had captured his attention and watched her continue across the green toward City Hall.

“Caught you!”

Ben Hunter came walking up.

Morgan turned, allowing the shade to drop. “Caught me what?”

Ben pulled the curtain back and glanced out. “Daydreaming? Thinking about Jeremy or perhaps one of the other children that’ll be lined up in your office in the next thirty minutes or so?”

Morgan shook his head and smiled. “No, not that. Not at all.”

“Oh?” Ben asked and turned toward his office, motioning Morgan to accompany him.

Morgan followed Pastor Ben, who continued, “So, what was it you were doing?”

Ben paused outside his office and turned the door handle, his gaze touching on Morgan’s in query.

Morgan decided, Why not tell Pastor Ben the truth? Taking a deep breath, he said, his voice low, “I was studying the woman I am going to marry.”

Chapter Two

“I didn’t realize you were even dating anyone,” Reverend Ben said.

“Dating? Who’s dating someone?” Emma Fulton, Ben’s secretary, asked.

Ben nodded to Emma as he passed through the secretary’s office and walked into his own office. Morgan watched, amused. Emma Fulton was sixty-five years old, but he certainly couldn’t tell it by her actions. Patting her strawberry-blond hair, which was more white than red, she tucked an imaginary loose strand into the braid that was twirled in a bun on top of her head. She got up and followed the pastor toward his office, her matchmaking antennae zeroing in. “You know, Julianne’s fiancé left her. That was such a shame. Now there’s a woman who needs someone.”

Morgan saw the look on Emma’s face, the gleam in her eye and thought, Yep, the pastor was certainly in trouble.

“In God’s time, Emma,” Ben said gently. “So, what messages do you have for me?”

“Oh. Yes. Yes.” Looking at the slips in her hand, she said, “Well, Miss Patterson called and I think she wanted, or was it the other one that wanted…” The woman trailed off, confused, quickly looking through the notes she held in her aged hands.

“Take your time, Emma,” Ben soothed and seated himself, motioning for Morgan to take a chair also.

“No, no. It was Rachel’s mother who called in reference to the roofing project you wanted to know about. And Miss Patterson, she wanted to talk to you about sponsoring.” The woman frowned as she tried to remember. “Oh, yes. She wanted to talk with you about sponsoring a booth at the celebration they’ll be having, the spring festival. You know, I was crowned Strawberry Queen at that festival years ago.” She gleamed with pride as she nodded to Morgan.

“I’d heard that, ma’am,” Morgan replied, smiling. Actually, he’d heard it several times from Emma. It was something she was very proud of, and every time the spring festival came up, she mentioned it. “Quite an event,” he added.

She giggled.

Taking the messages from Emma, Ben paused to pat her hand. “Thank you, dear. Can you close the door on the way out?”

“I surely will, Reverend Ben.” She turned and bustled out the door, her mission thwarted temporarily but, knowing Emma, not deserted.

When the door finally clicked closed, Morgan chuckled. “Looks like you may be fighting off a matchmaking scheme there, Ben.”

Ben groaned and shook his head. “Emma’s a good woman. She certainly cares about everyone. But I draw the line at allowing her to pick my wife.” Smiling, he shook his head again.

Morgan chuckled again.

Ben’s blue eyes gleamed with amusement as he said, “You don’t have much room to laugh, Morgan. She’s tried to match you up with every single woman within a three-county area.”

“Yeah, but she’s turned that attention on you now. Looks like she’s given me up as a lost cause—at least temporarily.” Morgan’s smile faded. “So, how are the problems going?”

Ben shook his head and laid the messages aside. “Still getting a lot of opposition from many in the church. I’m too young to handle this job, according to some. Others think the former Reverend shouldn’t have retired and let someone with my lack of experience slip into the job. In time, though, I’m sure, with God’s help, things will change.”

“Good.” Morgan shifted in his chair and crossed his legs. In khaki pants and a deep blue polo shirt, he felt as if he were missing something. Normally, he wore a lab coat and stethoscope, too. He’d been at lunch when he’d gotten paged to come over because the day care was certain Jeremy had pinkeye. “By the way, that’s not pinkeye,” he said to Ben. “It seems Chrissy didn’t like what Jeremy said and punched him in the eye while the teacher’s back was turned. But Jeremy heard the teacher say pinkeye and was certain his eye was going to turn pink and fall out.”

“Oh, really?” Ben grinned, the lines around his eyes crinkling in amusement. “Well, I’m sure he’ll think a miracle occurred when his eye clears.”

“And his mom will be glad to know the sniffles aren’t going to turn into anything more. So, what’d you want to talk to me about?”

Ben grinned. “I’d wanted to talk business, but first, I want to find out who you’ve been dating while my back was turned.”

Morgan glanced at Ben’s desk, cluttered with books and notes, the books obviously from the many bookcases around the office. The church was an old building, with original wood paneling and floors. Beautiful, in a way. Morgan really liked it, and liked his pastor, too. He’d become a friend over the last few months through the church-run day care. He wondered how he was going to explain to Ben what he’d meant earlier. Oh, well, he thought. I made the statement, might as well explain it. “Her name is Rachel and she has a daughter…”

“Lindsay,” Ben finished. “Yes. I’ve seen her picking Lindsay up, and of course, know her mother, Betty. I didn’t know you knew her, though. Or is it that Betty introduced you two?”

Morgan grinned. “No, Betty has no idea I’ve met her daughter yet. And I don’t know Rachel yet, either.”

“I see,” Ben replied, though it was perfectly obvious he didn’t see at all.

“I met her a few minutes ago,” Morgan added, not offering more than a simple blink of his eyes in reaction to the total confusion written on Ben’s face.

“Ah.” Ben chuckled, his face clearing suddenly. Morgan knew Ben thought he was kidding. Let him think that—until he finally asked Ben to perform the ceremony. He couldn’t explain it himself, but when he’d seen Rachel his entire world had tilted on its axis. A strong voice inside had spoken to him, saying, She’s the one. Morgan had no problem agreeing. She was beautiful, but there was something more about her, something he couldn’t explain. He simply knew she was the woman who belonged at his side, and he was going to marry her.

He was rather stunned himself, in some ways. He wasn’t one to make rash decisions. Actually, he was usually very controlled and careful. Nevertheless, he knew, he knew she was the one.

And Lindsay.

The child only confirmed what he knew. She was for him. Lindsay was for him. A second chance…

“Well, since you brought Rachel up…” Ben broke into the silence, his laughter gone as he drew Morgan to the subject at hand. “Betty called while you were checking on Jeremy. She was looking for you.”

“Really?” Betty Anderson, the director of the day-care center, was also Rachel’s mom. “What does she want to see me about?”

“I don’t know. I told her I’d snag you before you left. Let me tell her you’re here.” He picked up the phone and rang the day-care office. When he hung up, he smiled at Morgan. “She’s on her way now.”

“No measles going around, at least, not that I know of. Maybe she wants me to set up the annual lice check, or…” Morgan trailed off, curious.

“I’m sure it’s something like that. You know Betty. She’s an exceptional woman, good head on her shoulders. She certainly keeps that day care in line.”

Morgan nodded. “That she does. And knowing her, she’ll waste no time getting here and coming to the point.” Morgan liked that about Betty.

As if on cue, they heard Emma in the other room, offering a strawberry-filled cookie to someone and talking about seeing her daughter. “Sounds like Betty is here,” Morgan said.

Ben stood and moved around his desk. “I’ll give you some privacy.” He laid a gentle hand on Morgan’s shoulder as he passed. Morgan heard the door click and the warm tones of Ben’s voice float to him from the secretary’s office. “Hello, Betty. Morgan is in my office. Go on in. In the meantime, I think I’m going to steal one of Emma’s cookies.”

“Thank you, Reverend.” Betty’s contralto voice could be heard. A breeze swept in as the door swung wider, and then Betty walked in the office.

Betty pushed the door closed and stood there, her reddish brown hair hanging straight to her chin. In her fifties, she still had a nice figure. Her no-nonsense clothes showed she’d evidently been doing something physical downstairs at the center. Her flannel shirtsleeves were rolled to her elbows, and her purple jogging pants had dust and debris on them.

The look in her eye indicated that something was definitely on her mind. As a doctor, Morgan had learned to recognize the signs and do much what a pastor did, which was simply to listen. “Hello, Betty, how can I help you?”

He stood and put his hands to the back of a chair, offering Betty a seat.

“Thanks, Morgan.” Betty strode across the room and seated herself. “Sit down. I need to talk to you.” Betty sat on the edge of her seat and leaned forward, facing Morgan as he re-seated himself. Concern furrowed her brow, and her hands clasped around her knees. Morgan had never seen this side of Betty before.

“Now, you know I’m not one to usually interfere in my children’s lives. Neither Ray nor I were, bless his soul. When I lost him five years ago… Well, let’s just say I’m not sure where I would be now without my kids’ support. But my daughter Rachel…”

Morgan was more than a little interested when Betty hesitated. “I met her today,” he offered, hoping to put her at ease.

“Oh?” She studied him. Her gaze was so direct that he had the distinct feeling she was looking right into his soul.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Have you met Lindsay?”

“Yes. Well, actually, I’ve only seen her. I haven’t had time to talk with her, if that’s what you mean.”

“She’s almost completely deaf,” Betty said bluntly. “And I think my daughter is so steeped in bitterness over her husband leaving her and then dying on her that she can’t see past that. He left her because of Lindsay, saying he couldn’t handle a damaged child, you know.”

“Ah,” Morgan said, not having known that at all. So that was why Rachel had acted so prickly. She didn’t trust men. Morgan couldn’t blame her if what Betty had just told him was true. Most of the mothers he knew were very protective of their children and very vulnerable, too. “I’m sure Rachel will work through it and fall in love again.”

Betty blinked. “Oh, Rachel? Oh, no, Morgan, I wanted to talk to you about my granddaughter. I was just filling you in on Rachel so you’d know where I was coming from. You see, she’s very protective of Lindsay. I think Rachel’s husband killed something in her when he rejected their daughter. Rachel went to a doctor, but the brainless fool suggested she put her child in an institution since her husband had left her. He was not a good man. Why she went to a doctor her husband suggested, I’ll never know. The doctor told Rachel it was a degenerative disease and that Lindsay should be put in an institution where she’d get more stable care than a working mother could give her. Told her that way she’d have someone who knew how to deal with deaf children.”

Shocked, Morgan stared at Betty. He could see the anger as Betty’s mouth tightened in disgust. He found it hard not to feel a bit disgusted himself. Of course, sometimes family didn’t know the whole story. “Do you know what type of tests they did on Lindsay? What brought the doctor to this conclusion?”

“Other than the fact that the doctor was a real close friend of Lindsay’s former husband and ran in the same circles he did?” Betty shook her head. “I’m sorry, Morgan. This subject really gets to me.”

Morgan could see that. “What would you like me to do? I could make an appointment for Lindsay and talk to Rachel—”

“Oh, no. That won’t work.” Betty sat back in her chair, resting her elbows on the arms. “Rachel has sworn off doctors for her child. She refuses to allow any of them to examine Lindsay anymore. I think, Morgan, she’s afraid that they’ll try to take her child away from her, or call her a bad mother again, or even give her hope where there is none. She worked hard to find someone to see Lindsay, to prove to her husband her child wasn’t damaged. None of it did a bit of good. He left her anyway.”

Morgan nodded, definitely feeling anger stir in him, anger and painful loss. “I haven’t seen Rachel in church,” Morgan said softly to Betty.

Hurt flashed in Betty’s eyes. “She wants nothing to do with God. She’s hurting, possibly even blaming God that she had a child that broke up her marriage. I’ve heard her say a couple of times she doesn’t think God takes a real interest in her life.”

Frowning, Morgan nodded. He’d been through that at one time. He was still going through it in some ways. But he had not turned his back on God. He struggled a lot with believing God had forgiven him for past sins. When someone was hurting, it was the same principle. They looked back at the pain and had trouble letting go. So he could understand where Rachel might still be hurting and hadn’t let go.

“Well, then, if it’s not an appointment you want, what is it you need?”

Betty smiled. “I have a plan….”

Seeing that smile, Morgan wondered if he had just stepped off a cliff and was heading toward imminent disaster on the rocky beach below.

Chapter Three

“Why wasn’t he at supper last week if this is such a regular event?”

Rachel rushed around, picking up clothes, shoes and toys that Lindsay had dragged out. She was unable to believe what her mother was telling her.

“Because, Rachel,” Betty said, pulling a chicken out of the oven and setting it on the stove, “you were moving in and things were hectic. I often have members of the church over here to eat two or three times a week. However, I didn’t want to invite anyone until you had gotten your things moved in. In addition, he’s single. I feel responsible for him. He needs a good home-cooked meal every once in a while.”

“He?” Rachel asked, tossing the miscellaneous articles into her bedroom and pulling the door shut. “And why do you feel responsible? Does he have a kid in your day care?”

Rachel knew her mom loved to mother everyone. All the kids at the day care she thought of as hers. If there was a single father who was having a rough time of it, she wouldn’t be the least bit surprised to find out her mother had adopted him and was having him over for dinner all the time. Rachel’s mind drifted to the appealing man she’d met earlier that day.

“No. He’s a big help there, though.”

Scratch that one. Rachel wasn’t sure if she was relieved or disappointed. Dropping to her knees, she started gathering blocks from the round wool carpet that covered the floor. That was all they needed—someone to come in and break their neck on a block.

“Maa uh!” Lindsay came running into the room and launched herself onto Rachel’s back.

“Umph.” Rachel, precariously balanced, went down, blocks going everywhere.

Lindsay gurgled and crawled onto her mom, bouncing. “Pae-ee. Pae-ee.”

She waved her hands, motioning.

“Not now,” Rachel signed. “Cleaning.”

“Pae-ee.”

Rachel started to shake her head and say no again, but saw the look of laughter in her daughter’s eyes. How often had she had time to play with her daughter in the last month? She’d had to put their house up for sale in the twin cities, get things packed up, move, find a job here. She’d tried to be there for her daughter, but tonight, she’d been longer than she’d planned and then had had to run errands for her mother. She had taken a long shower only to come down to find out they were having company.

Company.

She just didn’t have the time….

“Go on, take a quick break. You have time, honey,” her mother called from the kitchen.

They did have twenty more minutes, she thought.

Lindsay bounced on her.

Rachel oofed for her daughter.

Lindsay squealed, delighted.

Rachel gave in. Just a minute wouldn’t matter. “Mommies tickle for that.” She signed as she said it.

Lindsay squealed again and promptly bounced once more.

“Mommies gobble, too.” Rachel followed this with actions as she grabbed her daughter and pulled her up, searching for her tummy under her shirt before blowing raspberries.

Lindsay shrieked and laughed. “Mo! Mo!”

“You want more, do you, you little munchkin?” she said, bouncing Lindsay on her tummy. “Okay, here it comes.” She lifted her hand and started twisting it around, making a buzzing noise.

Lindsay’s hand went to her mother’s mouth to feel the sensations.

Rachel twisted her finger again. “Zzzzzzz…here it comes. Zzzzz…”

Giggling, Lindsay wiggled, but Rachel wouldn’t release her. “I got you now, bubble baby,” she teased and then dived in, grabbing Lindsay’s tummy and tickling. Lindsay glowed as she laughed and slapped at her mommy’s hands. In fact, she was so loud Rachel didn’t hear the doorbell. All she saw was her mother pass by.

It was Lindsay who alerted her to the new comer. Her eyes lost the gleam and focused toward the door. “Maaamuuu.” She pointed at her grandmother.

Tilting her head to look at her mother and see what she wanted, Rachel realized it wasn’t MaMu her daughter was pointing at. Lindsay was telling her that someone else was here.

And of course, it would be the one person she hadn’t been expecting, the very person who set her heart rushing at dangerous speeds. Tall, dark and handsome stood with Betty by the door, smiling indulgently at her and Lindsay.

Chapter Four

“Good evening.”

Morgan stared at her, with Lindsay sitting on her, and couldn’t hide his smile. Rachel was beautiful. Flushed, her hair a mess, love glowing in her eyes for her daughter. Morgan didn’t think he’d ever seen a more perfect picture of motherhood.

“Uh…”

And she was embarrassed, he realized.

Sitting up, she lifted Lindsay with her. “Wash. Dinner,” she said to her daughter, and Morgan was surprised to see how easily she used American Sign Language right along with her words. In all his years of practice, he’d had a few deaf children. Few mothers bothered to learn how to communicate with their deaf children, other than to point.

Lindsay cast another glance at Morgan and sprinted toward the bathroom.

Rachel stood and smoothed her charcoal trousers. The thin blue sweater she wore had just a hint of gray to bring out the blue in her eyes. He didn’t feel overdressed in his gray pants and sweater. He’d debated long and hard what to wear and had finally given up and pulled this outfit out of the closet. Morgan couldn’t remember a time he’d been worried about how he looked for a woman.

Rachel was different.

“Hello again.”

She glanced around him curiously, and he wondered what she was looking for. “Where’s your child?”

The question hit him in the gut. How could she know…

“Jeremy?”

“Oh.” Morgan relaxed. Offering a generous smile, he said, “Jeremy wasn’t mine.”

She quirked her brow in query, but Lindsay chose that moment to come running into the room. “Unre, maauu.”

“Time for dinner,” she said and lifted her daughter into her arms.

“I had no idea Betty was your mother when I met you today.” He quirked his lips apologetically.

Rachel returned the smile with a halfhearted nod. “Well, she is. And we’re living with her for a while.”

She tilted her head toward her daughter, and her hair fell, covering her face. Long delicate fingers came up and absently pushed it behind her ear. “Aren’t we, Lindsay?” she singsonged softly as she started to the table. “Please, come in and have a seat. Make yourself at home. Mom tells me you’re over here quite a bit.”

Morgan followed her into the dining room and watched as she strapped her daughter into a child’s seat before grabbing a sipper cup and setting it in front of her daughter. “Yes, your mom has adopted me.”

Betty, who was coming in with the chicken, nodded. “I sure did. He’s my local son, since both of you kids never come visit your mama.”

Morgan went over and took the platter from her. “Let me get that, Betty.”

“Thanks, Morgan.” She turned to go into the kitchen, talking over her shoulder. “Sit down, get aquainted. I’ll be right back.”

Morgan hesitated then nodded. Looking at Rachel, he said, “Very self-reliant, isn’t she?”

Rachel chuckled. “Understatement.” She got up, got the napkins and silverware and finished setting the table.

“You know sign language well.”

Rachel glanced at him in surprise. “My daughter is hearing impaired,” she replied simply.

“How much does she understand?” he queried.

Rachel frowned. “Enough.”

He heard it in her voice. Back off. So he did, turning his attention to Lindsay instead.

She was sipping, staring at him over the rim as she drank her juice.

Morgan grinned at her and signed, “Hi. I’m Morgan. You like juice?”

The little girl stared at him suspiciously over the cup before she tossed it at him and signed, “Share!”

Morgan caught it in midair. It was pure luck. He hadn’t expected her to throw her cup at him.

“Lindsay!” Rachel said and hurried toward her daughter.

Morgan looked at Lindsay.

She giggled.

He tried to cover a smile. “Thank you,” he signed, and acted as if he were taking a drink before handing it back to her.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Morgan—”

“Just Morgan.”

“Okay, just Morgan,” Rachel said, exasperated. “Will you stop grinning at her? She’s going to think it’s okay to throw her cup at you all the time.”

“She was only sharing,” he said innocently.

Rachel, who’d had her back turned during the entire incident, paused and looked from one to the other. “She normally doesn’t talk to strangers.”

“She knows me,” he said, signing with his words.

Rachel’s jaw dropped. “You know sign language?”

“Yes, Rachel, I do. We were talking while you were digging for the coasters. I asked her if she liked her juice, and she shared it with me. I take that to mean either she likes me and decided to be my friend or she hates her juice.”

Rachel studied him again before her gaze went to her daughter, who was sipping her juice. Then she laughed. “I guess she decided you’re a friend.”

Betty chose that moment to come in with bread and vegetables. “Rachel, honey, will you get the salad and pitcher for me?”

“I can do that, Betty,” Morgan said, but Rachel shook her head.

“I’ll get it. I have to get her bib anyway.”

She left and Morgan took the dishes from Betty and set them on the table.

“There we go, my baby. I made corn for you tonight. And carrots. Your favorite,” Betty said to her granddaughter.

Lindsay smiled beatifically at her grandmother and then yelled loudly. He had to give Betty credit. For not being around the child much, she did well not to flinch when Lindsay shouted her pleasure.

Rachel returned and set the salad and pitcher on the table before slipping the bib on. When she sat down, Betty turned to Morgan. “Will you say the prayer, dear?”

Morgan didn’t miss the uncomfortable shift Rachel made. He bowed his head. “Heavenly Father, thank You for the food You’ve blessed us with and thank You for the company and the special precious gift You gave us in Lindsay. Bless this food, in Jesus’s name, amen.”

When he opened his eyes, Rachel was staring at him blankly. He returned the stare with one of warmth. Her gaze wobbled with tenderness and surprise before she glanced away. “Lindsay is certainly my precious gift,” she said, then proceeded to dish up a plate of food for her child.

After handing Lindsay her silverware, Rachel cut her daughter’s chicken and broke up the bread, then started filling her own plate.

Morgan filled his quietly. “I found a new fishing hole, Betty.”

“Oh? Where this time?”

Morgan passed Betty the platter of meat as he said, “Outside of town. The mile road. You go down it and it’s off west about a mile.”

“The old Henderson place. They had a creek running back there.”

“I’m planning to go soon. Joe Pierceson told me about it.”

“He’d know. That man loves to fish.”

“Have you ever fished, Rachel?” Morgan asked politely before taking a bite of chicken.

Startled, she glanced from her daughter, her mouth filled with food. She swallowed, took a sip of tea then replied, “I haven’t been in four, maybe five years.” Her gaze unfocused briefly. “I used to go with Dad all the time before I went off….”

She glowed with good memories. Morgan was enchanted as he watched her.

“I remember some of the things you brought home, young lady, and it wasn’t just fish. Turtles, frogs, tadpoles and even a snake. Land sakes, I’m glad that thing wasn’t poisonous,” Betty said.

Rachel grinned at her mother. “Daddy was, too.”

Both burst out laughing, and Betty turned to Morgan to explain. “She was upset because she hadn’t caught anything and her brother had. So she was walking back to the car and found this snake. A king snake, mind you, and she stuffed it into her plastic wading pants, planning to sneak it into the room and put it in her brother’s bed.”

“And? Did you do it?” He grinned at Rachel, whose cheeks turned pink in response.

“Go on, tell him what happened, Rachel.”

“Mother.” Rachel drawled the word in exasperation. “The snake got out of the trousers. Just as Daddy was pulling into the driveway, he felt something inching up the leg of his pants and panicked.”

“Oh, no.” Morgan couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped. “Did the poor man have a heart attack?”

“Almost,” Betty said. “He went right through the garage door trying to shake the thing off of his leg.”

“And I got grounded for a week.”

“That’s pretty mild,” Morgan replied, still laughing.

“Yeah. Well, I think Dad and Mom were so happy that the snake wasn’t poisonous that I got off lightly.”

Betty shook her head and took another bite.

Rachel grinned at her mother. “Well, Mom? You gonna tell me the truth why?”

“I have no idea why you got off so easily, dear. You’re probably right. It was simply shock and relief.”

Rachel chuckled again before turning to her meal. That set the tone for supper. Silly stories about her childhood. Dinner ended much too soon, as far as Morgan was concerned, but Betty wasn’t about to let him leave yet. “You two go into the living room with Lindsay. I’ll clear this and then bring in hot tea.”

Rachel, who was cleaning Lindsay, glanced at him, then at her mom. “Okay.”

Morgan nevertheless gathered his and Rachel’s plates and carried them into the kitchen. When he returned, Lindsay was clean and getting out of her chair.

“So, Rachel, where do you work?” he asked, heading into the living room.

“Temporarily at City Hall. I’m reworking their records. And—watch out!”

Thump. Two little arms were wrapped around his legs. Morgan struggled to keep from landing face first on the floor. “Aha! I’ve been attacked,” he said, peeling her arms away and lifting her. “Was it you?”

Lindsay patted his cheek and bounced in his arm. “Paaee,” she said, her hand on his cheek.

“Paaee?”

“That means play. Here, I’ll take her. I’m really sorry—”

“We’re fine,” he said to Rachel and moved to the sofa to sit down. He didn’t miss how Rachel nervously followed him.

“What do you like to play, little one?” he asked.

Lindsay grinned and moved her hand to his lips.

He repeated the question.

She giggled and then stroked his cheek again.

Poor Rachel was turning all shades of red. He ignored her and continued to concentrate on Lindsay, thinking it best if he didn’t pay attention to her embarrassment over her daughter. The only way Rachel would see Lindsay wasn’t irritating him was to watch them together.

He reached up and put Lindsay’s hand close to his mouth. “Morgan. Morgan,” he said. Lifting his hand from hers, he signed, “My name. Morgan.”

“Oh gan.”

Morgan grinned. “Yes. Now what do you like to play? Oh, I bet I know….”

And Morgan proceeded to drop onto the floor next to the blocks and build an entire city with her for the next fifteen minutes.

Betty came in and grinned. “You’re so good with kids. Lindsay has taken a liking to you. Now, Rachel, why don’t you pour the tea.”

“Okay, Mom.” Rachel poured three cups, silently frustrated with her mother that she insisted on keeping this man around. She didn’t know him, and he was playing with her daughter.

“I think little one here is getting tired,” Morgan whispered.

Rachel glanced over and flushed anew. Lindsay had crawled onto him and was sprawled out, her eyes closed. “I’m sorry,” Rachel began.

“Don’t be.” Morgan’s eyes met hers. The deep tones of his voice went right through her. “I can’t tell you when I’ve had this much fun. It’s been a long time.”

Rachel shifted, trying not to notice how good he looked holding her daughter. She stood and went over to him. “I should get her to bed.”

Gently, she slipped her hands under her daughter and lifted the girl to her shoulder. Lindsay mumbled something and zonked right back out.

Morgan stood. “As much as I’d like tea, Betty, I really have to be up early. I should be going, too.”

“Of course, Morgan. Let me take her, Rachel, and you walk our guest to the door.”

Sharply, Rachel looked at her mother. Matchmaking?

She had to wonder. This man was attractive. Her mother didn’t like it that she was alone with a child to raise. Rachel would have to talk to her about this later. “Very well.” Handing her child to her mother, Rachel turned and offered Morgan a smile.

He wasn’t bad. She just wasn’t used to sharing her child with anyone. Not after everything that had happened. She was scared. Things happened. She didn’t want to lose Lindsay or hear any more false reports, on her, or true reports for that matter. She didn’t want her daughter exposed to any more pain or lies, or to get her hopes up only to have them dashed. She wanted to protect her daughter from the world. And this man was part of that world.

Still, he had been wonderful with Lindsay. If only Lindsay’s father had been like that. “It was nice meeting you, Morgan.”

Morgan headed toward the door, his long-legged stride taking him gracefully across the room. “I really enjoyed tonight.” He pulled open the door and paused, then turned and pierced her with his gaze. “I enjoyed it a lot, Rachel.”

Rachel’s mouth went dry. “I…yes,” she stuttered, and nodded.

“Maybe we’ll see each other in church.”

The mood was shattered that easily. “I’m not sure. It takes time to get Lindsay ready, and we like to sleep in on Sunday…”

“Oh. I had thought you’d want to take her simply for the interaction with the other children.”

“She gets interaction,” Rachel argued.

“Ah,” Morgan said softly, a smile touching his lips. “But does she get to learn the series of songs the teacher is teaching the children? All of them in sign language?”

“Really?” Rachel asked, excitement burgeoning to life.

Morgan shrugged. “She majored in languages and ministers to the deaf on Saturdays. I thought Lindsay would probably love that.”

“She probably would.”

Rachel suddenly realized she’d been tricked. Scowling at Morgan, she said, “I only want what’s best for my daughter. So if you do see me there, it’s because of her.”

Morgan’s smile turned tender. “I understand, Rachel.” He reached out and took her hand, but instead of shaking it, to her utter disbelief, he lifted it to his lips and kissed it lightly. His gaze lifted to hers. “I really do.” She stared, watching him walk down the stairs and to his car. And for some reason, she really believed that he did understand. She wasn’t sure why, but it was in his eyes. The truth. He really did know what she was going through.

Gripping the door, she wondered if maybe, just maybe, God really did take a personal interest, after all.

Chapter Five

She should have known.

He was a doctor.

A pediatrician.

Of all the low-down tricks. She was striding across the green, but she didn’t make it to her destination, which was the church day care and her mother. Oh, no. She found someone else to take her frustration out on.

Smiling with grim anticipation, she steered toward the left and the man sitting at a small table under a tree. “Ah, good morning, Morgan,” she said lightly.

His features changed and lit with a welcoming smile. “Not morning really. I’m on an afternoon lunch break.” Standing, he smiled, and that smile nearly melted Rachel’s anger.

Nearly.

“How are you today? Will you join me?”

So smooth and gentlemanly. It was that kiss on the hand last night that distracted her, made her look at the way his hand waved her to a seat. She found herself moving forward to do just that—when she suddenly jumped back.

“Rachel?” he asked, confused.

“Don’t you take that tone with me. I found out.” She dropped that bombshell and waited to see him flinch or at least flush guiltily.

He did none of these. He continued to stare at her, looking curious as well as confused. “Found out what? I’m sorry, Rachel, but I don’t understand. Please, take a seat. We can talk.”

Rachel shook her head, her agitation obvious as she clasped her hands. “Mom put you up to it, didn’t she? I just know she did. That’s Mom.”

Concern replaced his confusion, and he stepped forward.

She raised a hand to halt him. “No. Just tell me the truth.” Silly, but she was near tears. “She did, didn’t she?”

“Rachel, I honestly don’t know what you’re talking about,” Morgan said, and she could tell he meant for her to believe that.

“But…you’re a doctor. Mom wouldn’t have just invited you over.”

“You didn’t know I was a doctor?” Morgan asked, surprise spreading across his features. “Oh, Rachel,” he whispered, and despite the fact she tried to put up a hand again, he ignored it and pulled her into a gentle embrace. “I just thought your mom had told you something about me since I was a guest there so much.”

The strong arms felt nice, encouraging her to lean against him. The chest was wide enough to hold her as she leaned against him. The warm, deep voice invited her to trust him. It was the last that, after only a moment of comfort, made her push back.

“She didn’t tell me,” Rachel whispered. “You were there to examine my daughter, weren’t you?”

He hesitated.

“Don’t lie to me,” she said.

With a nod, he said, “Your mother wanted me to see Lindsay, but just friend to friend. She knows you didn’t want her to go into an office and see a doctor officially.”

“She doesn’t need a doctor,” Rachel argued. “She’s fine. We’re fine. We’re both fine.”

Lifting his hands, he said gently, “It’s okay, Rachel. I wasn’t there to play inquisitor. Believe it or not, I do go over to your mom’s house two or three times a week. Sometimes I bring dinner, and sometimes she fixes it.”

“And you sure jumped on it when she asked you to look at my daughter,” she said bitterly, feeling raw with betrayal.

“It’s not like that. Your mom is worried about both you and your daughter. She loves you, Rachel, and wanted to help. Please don’t be angry at her.”

Rachel’s shoulders slumped. “I’m not. I’m just—hurt,” she finally whispered. And scared, though she didn’t add that aloud. She didn’t want anyone around her daughter. Lindsay was vulnerable. Rachel was, too. She couldn’t take hearing someone else tell her that her daughter was imperfect and should be shut away somewhere.

“Rachel, listen,” he began, but the beeper on his belt went off. Looking down, he sighed. “That’s the hospital. I have to take the call. Please, wait on this and think about it. Allow your hurt to ease before you say anything else. We’ll talk later. Okay?”

Rachel shrugged. She didn’t care what he said. How could her mother have confided in him when she knew Rachel didn’t want Lindsay exposed to another doctor?

“Later,” he reiterated and then jogged across the lawn toward one of the telephones.

Miserable, Rachel continued across the green to the church, planning to talk to her mother. She hurried up the stairs and into the building.

Before she got very far, Miss Emma stopped her. “Miss White! Oh, Miss White!”

She came bustling toward her, her face wreathed in smiles. “I’m so glad I found you. Can you come in the office a moment? I was filing some church papers and I found some of Lindsay’s papers in there. You can take them to your mom for me, if you will.”

Rachel sighed at getting waylaid but nodded. “Of course.”

Rachel had to admit this woman was certainly a character. She waved her hands and sighed dramatically. “I just don’t know how all this paperwork ended up in my office. Papers. Such a mess. Nevertheless, they’re much better than putting all that information in those little boxes. I don’t trust them. The pastor keeps saying he wants to put one in my office but I tell him, I say, Pastor, you just can’t trust them. You put the information in, but what happens if it gets lost in there or what happens if you need it a year later. How do you know what you typed is still in there and didn’t get eaten up?”

“Computers?”

“Yes. They’re just awful. Such a mess. I keep telling him not to plug in that newfangled instrument but he just can’t understand my concerns.”

In her office, Emma moved around her cluttered desk and sat down. “Mind you, now, the pastor is such a good sport. Just single.”

She frowned and started digging through her papers. “Our four-year-old teacher is single, too,” she informed Rachel.

Rachel smiled politely. “Yes, ma’am. Julianne. I’ve met her.”

“Of course, you have.” The woman paused and looked at Rachel, confusion clouding her eyes. “Now what was I looking for?”

“Something about Lindsay to take to my mom.”

“Oh! Yes.” Emma opened a drawer and pulled out a chart. “Here it is. Lindsay’s chart. As I said, I have no idea how that got in here. Your daughter’s deaf, isn’t she?”

Rachel froze. “Hearing impaired. She can hear a bit.”

“Oh, really? I didn’t know that was possible. I mean for older people… Is that rain I hear?”

A loud crash of thunder sounded, and Rachel thought, Great, what a perfect addition to the day. She’d be soaked before she got back to City Hall.

“It was cloudy when I crossed the street earlier. I suppose it is rain.”

The wind shook the building, and it sounded like a whole flood had been released out there.

“Oh, my,” Emma said, her eyes wide. “That sounds like a strong storm.”

Rachel nodded. “Yes. I’ll just go take this to my mom.”

“You do that. Oh, and don’t forget to get Lindsay her shots.”

Rachel paused in the act of leaving. “What?”

Reverend Ben chose that moment to walk out of his office. She knew he had to be the pastor. He fit the description she’d heard of him.

“Shots. Your daughter’s shots are behind. Didn’t you know that? They’ve added new shots to the list of children’s inoculations.”

“Shots? Now, Miss Emma, I think Rachel here is past the age for booster shots,” the pastor teased lightly.

Emma giggled like a schoolgirl. “Shame on you, Reverend. I know that.”

He turned to Rachel. “Hello, I’m Ben. You must be Betty’s daughter, Rachel. You look just like her.”

Rachel smiled politely. “Yes. Thank you. I’m just on my way to see her now.” Rachel wondered if someone was trying to block her from going to her mother and yelling at her for doing what she did. Impatient, she smiled shortly. “I really should go.”

Rachel felt a drop of water hit her. She reached up, wiped it off and looked at it, hearing Ben say, “Of course. Tell Betty— Watch out!”

Rachel looked up just in time to see Ben lunge for her. Startled, she froze.

The air whooshed out of her when, with a thud, his body knocked into her, knocking her off her feet.

Fear, confusion and pain mixed together as he twisted, trying to keep her from taking the brunt of the fall.

She heard someone cry out and a loud sound like thundering and then another whoosh as water soaked her. Ben rolled with her, coming to a stop against the door with her on the bottom.

Rachel was certain every bone in her body had been rearranged. Dazedly she opened her eyes, to see Ben wince and then scramble off her. “Forgive me, Rachel. Ouch.” He rubbed his back. “Are you okay? Here, let me help you.” He offered her a hand.

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