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Authors: Judy Duarte

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BOOK: Healing Dr. Fortune
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Kirsten had her doubts, though. And that was why she'd snuck out to see a doctor while Max was job hunting. She knew he'd be upset if he learned that she'd taken on a parental role with the child and that he would accuse her of interfering and running his life again.

Of course that shouldn't surprise her. He'd been rebelling against her advice and instructions since he'd been a teenager. But this was different. Surely he would see that, wouldn't he?

When it came to the baby's health and welfare, he needed to put the past behind him and listen for a change.

As Kirsten reached the front door of her house, she dug in her purse for her keys, then she let herself inside.

“Are you ready for a bottle?” she asked Anthony, as she left the diaper bag in the entryway. The baby had been eating every three to four hours, so she figured he would be hungry soon.

Once in the living room, she put his blue shawl on the carpeted floor, then laid him down. “I'll be back in a minute, precious.”

Anthony started to fuss, so she hurried to the kitchen and fixed him a bottle out of powdered formula and purified water.

She wished she had more experience with babies, that she'd done some babysitting as a teenager, but she was completely out of her league with that sort of thing.

The first couple days were hard, with her and Max learning through trial and error, but they were both finally catching on. In fact, she was really enjoying having a baby in the house. It made her wonder what it would be like to have a family of her own someday.

After carrying the bottle back to the living room, she picked up Anthony and settled into the overstuffed chair near the window. As she placed the nipple to his lips, he eagerly latched on, sucking and gulping as though he was starving.

Actually, now that she thought about it, he
did
have a hearty appetite, and that was definitely a sign of health. But that didn't mean she wouldn't try to sneak him back to the clinic again the next time Max would be gone for a couple hours. Hopefully, her car would be out of the shop by then, and she wouldn't have to ride the city bus, which had taken up way too much time.

Thank goodness she'd returned to the house before Max did.

At least she'd gotten a physician to at least take a quick look at the baby, even if it wasn't what you'd call a real exam.

She couldn't believe that she'd actually stopped a doctor in the parking lot today and asked him to look at
Anthony. She'd been so anxious—and thinking with her heart instead of her head, which she was prone to do.

But then the handsome physician with surfer-blond hair and soulful blue eyes had looked at her as if they'd met somewhere before, and she'd been knocked off balance. There was no way they'd ever crossed paths. She would have definitely remembered a gorgeous hunk like him.

Looking back, she wished she would have asked his name, but she hadn't been thinking straight.

In fact, he'd probably thought she was crazy, which was too bad. It would have been nice to have put her best foot forward when meeting the handsome orthopedic surgeon, a man who'd been exceptionally kind to her. After all, he hadn't needed to take time to talk to her, but he had. He'd even reached out and caressed Anthony's little cheek, right there in the parking lot.

Too bad she'd had a bus to catch so she would beat her brother home.

As Anthony guzzled down his bottle, Kirsten stopped him long enough to get a burp out of him—an effort he objected to with grunts and squawks.

When he finally let out a little belch, and she put the bottle back into his mouth, she heard the key sound in the lock.

Moments later, Max opened the door and stepped inside.

“So how was the job search?” she asked.

Her brother blew out a sigh. “No luck yet. So I guess you're stuck with us for a while.”

That might be true about Max staying with her, but she certainly didn't feel stuck with Anthony.

“It's not a problem.” Kirsten glanced at the sweet little baby who'd come to live with them. “I'm happy to help out while I can.”

“But what happens when you get a call from another firm looking for an accountant? You've got a mortgage to pay, so you can't continue watching Anthony for me.”

That was true. And Max would be hard-pressed to job hunt all day and watch over his son without help.

He didn't seem to be stressed about that, though. Or worried about the fact that he might not be able to afford day care
and
rent when he did manage to find employment.

“Well,” Kirsten said, “I can watch him for the time being. We'll just have to take one day at a time.”

And she shouldn't have any trouble doing that. She'd been taking one day at a time ever since she'd allowed Max to move in with her. But what else could she do? He was the only family she had left, and looking after him was a responsibility she'd always had.

Of course, she'd come to realize that some of her help over the years had bordered on enabling in many ways. The more money she gave him, the more he seemed to need.

Then, about two years ago, she'd read a book on tough love. It made sense that she wasn't really helping him by bailing him out all the time. So she'd told Max that she was finished taking care of him, that he was an adult and would have to fend for himself. He was twenty-four
at the time and had just started dating Courtney, so he'd moved in with her for a while.

Lo and behold, he landed a good job at the feed store and kept it for nearly two years—until the owner sold the business.

Losing his job had been really tough on him—and it had been tough on Kirsten, too. But the layoff hadn't been his fault. His boss had decided to retire and sell the business, and since the new owner had a large family and planned to hire his kids to work for him, Max was let go.

Of course, that meant he could no longer pay his rent. So she'd offered to let him live with her until he found a new job.

She'd been afraid that they would both fall back into destructive old patterns, yet she didn't want Max to end up on the street when he'd been clearly trying hard to get his life on track. If she looked at the big picture, he deserved her help and a second chance.

And then Anthony had come along, immediately changing the dynamics of their brother-sister relationship and complicating things. After all, there was no way Kirsten would ask Max to leave or refuse to help him when that meant turning her back on Anthony, too.

She smiled at the child in her arms, his little eyes closed, his lips still tugging at the nipple.

“So how did things go for
you
today?” Max asked, as he plopped down on the sofa. “Did the baby give you any trouble?”

“We had a good day.” She didn't dare tell him that
she'd taken Anthony to the clinic. She had to tread carefully with Max these days, not make him feel as though she was backing him into a corner. All she needed was for him to resent her interference, bolt and take little Anthony with him.

If he were to leave, where would he live? How would he support himself and a baby?

“How's your own job search coming?” he asked. “Did you get any nibbles from the résumés you filed with those online applications?”

“I'm still waiting to hear something.” But she wouldn't actively seek a full-time position until Max found work and knew what his options were for day care.

“So you don't have any interviews scheduled?”

“No, but I'm really not worried yet.” She had a healthy savings account, so she'd been able to pay the mortgage—so far.

“You know,” Max said, “I've been thinking. The Red Rock Medical Center offers low-cost checkups. Maybe I ought to take Anthony one day next week.”

Kirsten nearly jumped out of her chair, but she reeled in her excitement, knowing it was best to let Max think the whole idea had been his all along. Apparently, her hints had sunk in after she'd dropped the subject and let it go.

“You're probably right,” she finally said in a ho-hum sort of way. “I could…” She caught herself, realizing that Max wanted to do the right thing, but for some reason, it was important for him to make those kinds of decisions on his own. “Well, I could look up the website on the
computer and give you a phone number—in case you want to set up an appointment or ask questions.”

He seemed to think on that for a while, then he said, “Sure, that would be okay.”

She slowly released the breath she'd been holding.

Max wasn't a kid anymore. And he wasn't as irresponsible as he'd once been. She needed to remember that. She also needed to respect his decisions—whatever they were. And if that meant minding her sisterly
P
s and
Q
s, then so be it.

“Do you think Courtney would have taken Anthony for his shots?” she asked.

He'd refused to call Courtney, but maybe Kirsten could nudge him just a bit.

Max seemed to ponder that for a moment. “She used to hate going to the doctor herself, so something tells me she wouldn't have worried about taking Anthony.”

Well, Courtney certainly hadn't appeared to have a very strong maternal instinct, but Kirsten bit her tongue, reminding herself to keep quiet and to let Max come to his own conclusions about his child's mother.

“I guess it's good that you're going to be the one raising him,” Kirsten said. “He's going to need a daddy like you.”

Max shrugged, although the hint of a smile suggested that her comment had pleased him. And she was glad that it had. Their relationship had taken a real turn for the better today, even if she was the one who'd learned a valuable lesson in dealing with Max, in trusting him to do the right thing.

“Do you want to go with me when I take Anthony to the clinic?” he asked.

The question both surprised and delighted her—but not because she needed to be involved in Anthony's care. She was happy to see that her relationship with her brother was finally on the mend.

“Sure,” she said. “I can go with you as long as I don't have an interview scheduled.”

“Thanks. I'd like you to be there. I'm not sure I want to see someone poke him with a needle.”

Kirsten wasn't excited about seeing that, either.

“You know,” Max said, “since things might change for you anytime on the job front, maybe I ought to schedule that appointment tomorrow. Would that be better for you?”

She bit down on her bottom lip, as though giving her schedule some real thought. “Yes, it would. I don't have anything planned for tomorrow.”

“Good, then I'll call the clinic in the morning.”

“All right. Just let me know what they tell you.”

But she already knew. She'd called today, and they'd told her that her best chance of being seen today—when it wasn't an emergency—was to come in and wait her turn.

The thought of returning to the Red Rock Medical Center turned her heart on end, but not just because they would finally learn whether Anthony was as healthy as he appeared to be.

She was also hoping she'd run into a certain orthopedic surgeon.

Uh-oh. If she
did
see him again, and if he mentioned to Max anything about meeting her and Anthony in the parking lot…well, that might dash the strides they'd made in healing their relationship.

If so, she would just have to come clean with Max. And if he blew up about it? Then she'd face the consequences.

He might get angry and tell her to go home, which meant she'd miss out on spending further time with the handsome doctor. And that would be a shame.

Chapter Two

E
ven after a stop at the bookstore, Jeremy still arrived early at Red, one of the most popular restaurants in town.

Jose and Maria Mendoza, longtime friends of the Fortune family, had converted the old hacienda into a classy, romantic eatery with antique furnishings, woven tapestries and carefully selected pieces of Tejano art that nearly matched the original décor, much of which had been damaged two years ago in a fire which had turned out to be a case of arson. The Mendozas had been forced to close for a while. But with time and a great deal of effort, they'd restored the landmark.

As Jeremy entered, he was welcomed by Marcos Mendoza, who was temporarily managing Red for Jose and Maria. Some might think the handsome and personable
young man had landed his position because of his relationship with the owners, but Jeremy knew that wasn't the case. Since taking over, Marcos had instigated some innovative and productive changes behind the scenes, and the restaurant seemed to be busier and more popular than ever.

“Welcome back to Red, Doc.” Marcos reached out his arm in greeting. “How's it going?”

“Not bad.” Jeremy shook the younger man's hand. “How about you?”

“Life is good. I can't complain.” Marcos scanned the entry before returning his gaze to Jeremy. “Are you meeting someone?”

“My brother Drew and his wife.”

“Then I'll take you back to the alcove. It'll give you a little more privacy. And when they arrive, I'll let them know where you are.”

“Thanks.” Jeremy usually preferred to eat in the courtyard, with the old-world style fountain that had been handcrafted with blue-and-white Mexican tile.

The Mendozas had heaters to make outdoor dining comfortable in the winter months, but it was already sprinkling, and the colorful umbrellas that provided shade from the sun weren't going to keep the rain off them.

As Marcos grabbed three menus, he asked, “When did the newlyweds get back from Vegas?”

The couple had eloped, and while it wasn't a secret, some of the details were sketchy. “They flew in last night.”

“Oh, yeah? So they'll be staying in Red Rock?”

“I'm not sure what their plans are.” Drew ran the San Diego office of Fortune Forecasting—although he'd been overseeing the entire operation in William's absence. And Deanna was his assistant. There was just so much that could be done via conference calls and email, so they'd both need to go back to work soon. But like Jeremy, Drew had been waiting on word about their father.

A beat of silence stretched between them, as they both considered the words Jeremy hadn't actually said.

“Still no word about your dad?” Marcos asked.

Jeremy slowly shook his head. “No, not yet.”

“I'm sorry to hear that. Isabella came in earlier today to have lunch with some of her friends, but I didn't get a chance to ask her if there'd been any news.”

Isabella, who'd married J. R. Fortune, Jeremy's oldest brother, was Marcos's sister. So Marcos was well aware of the details surrounding William's disappearance.

As they reached the empty table in the alcove, Marcos stopped and stepped to the side. “How's this?”

“Great.”

Marcos removed one of the place settings, leaving three. “I'll have a server bring you some water and chips.

Would you like to start off with a drink?”

“Sure. I'll have a Corona.”

“You got it.”

As Jeremy took a seat, he watched Marcos walk to ward the bar. The ambitious young man had plans to
open his own restaurant someday, and Jeremy had no doubt that he would do just that—and be successful.

Moments later, a young waitress with her long, dark hair pulled back in a ponytail brought the water, chips, salsa and his beer.

“Marcos said to tell you that the drink is on him,” the woman said.

Jeremy thanked her, and as she went on her way, he got to his feet, stepped out of the alcove and scanned the area for Marcos.

He spotted him near the bar, where he was talking to the bartender and pointing out something on a shelf. When Jeremy caught the manager's eye, he lifted his longneck bottle and nodded in appreciation. Then he returned to his table and took a seat.

While waiting for Drew and Deanna, he reached for a warm tortilla chip and dipped it into the fresh salsa.

No one knew how to prepare Mexican food like the Mendozas, and Jeremy had made a point of stopping by Red at least once a week. Of course, each time he did, he often ran into one of the Fortunes or a Mendoza or two. The families had become good friends over the years. There also had been a few marriages along the way that bound them even closer—like that of J.R. and Isabella.

Jeremy had just reached for another chip when Drew and Deanna arrived. The two had been staying with J.R. and Isabella at Molly's Pride, where he assumed they would take up residence again until they needed to return to San Diego.

Drew's entire life had revolved around Fortune
Forecasting, the company William had started. But unlike his brothers, Jeremy had never wanted to take part in the family business. Instead, he'd gone to medical school. And up until the past year or so, he'd been perfectly content with that decision and the life he'd made for himself in Sacramento.

As Drew and Deanna reached the table, Jeremy stood and greeted the attractive redhead with a brotherly hug.

“You look especially pretty tonight,” Jeremy told her.

And she did. Love and happiness radiated on her face, just as it did on Drew's.

“Thank you.”

Drew pulled out a chair for her. As she took a seat, she flashed a loving smile at her new husband.

Jeremy couldn't help thinking that falling in love and getting married had made a big difference in his brother's entire demeanor, and as he made that decision, his thoughts naturally drifted to the mystery woman who'd stepped right out of his imagination and into his life just two hours earlier.

Drew reached for a chip. “We said six, didn't we?”

“Yes, but I finished early at the clinic.” Jeremy motioned for their waitress, then returned his focus to his dinner companions. “So how was the wedding?”

“Absolutely beautiful.” Deanna's eyes glimmered. “Your brother outdid himself with all the details, from the strawberries and champagne on the private flight to the long-stem red roses and the bridal bouquet waiting
in the limousine to the beautiful little chapel where we were married at the stroke of midnight. It was very romantic.”

A little surprised by it all, Jeremy studied his no-nonsense brother. “Who would have guessed that you had a romantic side?”

“You probably have one, too.” His brother reached across the table and took Deanna's hand. “All you have to do is find the right woman.”

Jeremy didn't know about that. He hadn't thought that he had a romantic bone in his body before, but he found his mind drifting in that direction ever since he ran into Kirsten Allen in the parking lot. Damn, that crazy dream must be making him soft.

As Drew and Deanna shared the details of the actual ceremony, Jeremy found himself drifting off, wondering if he'd prefer a big wedding or a small, intimate one. And that brought his thoughts back to the mystery woman.

He didn't believe in visions and premonitions, but for some wild reason, he couldn't quite shake the encounter he'd had with Kirsten or the feeling that he had to see her again.

“Are you listening?” Drew asked.

Jeremy glanced up, a little embarrassed that the couple had caught him gathering romantic wool, when he should have been listening. “I'm sorry. I've got a lot on my mind.”

“Dad?” Drew asked.

“Him, too.”

“Is it work-related? Is the medical group pressuring you to come back to Sacramento?”

“In a way, but…”

“Don't tell me.” Drew leaned forward. “You've met a woman in Red Rock.”

“No, not really.” Jeremy glanced at his new sister-in-law, then back at the cocktail napkin he'd been shredding.

About that time, Deanna scooted her chair back and got to her feet. “If you guys will excuse me, I think I'll powder my nose.”

Drew shot another loving look at his new wife, and something seemed to register between them, some form of silent, two-way communication.

Jeremy had seen his parents do that on occasion.

Would he ever be able to communicate with a woman like that?

“What should I order for you?” Drew asked her. “A glass of wine?”

“That sounds good. Thanks.”

As Deanna headed for the bathroom, Jeremy couldn't help thinking she'd made an excuse to leave so the brothers could talk in private, which was thoughtful but unnecessary. He really didn't want to talk to anyone about the wild direction his thoughts had been going.

After Deanna was out of hearing range, Drew said, “Okay, what's going on?”

Jeremy wasn't so sure he wanted to confide in his younger brother, but Drew wasn't a kid anymore. So
he found himself revealing the dream he'd had and the woman he'd run into in the parking lot.

“Are you going to try to find her?” Drew asked.

Jeremy didn't know what to say, what to admit.

“Maybe you ought to give Ross a call. I'll bet he could make fast work of finding anyone.”

Ross Fortune was their cousin and a private investigator, so the suggestion made sense. But Jeremy wouldn't go that far in trying to locate the mystery woman.

“I don't want to come off like some kind of stalker,” he admitted. “Besides, Ross probably should focus his time on finding Dad, which he hasn't been able to do.”

The truth of that statement echoed between them until Drew said, “I think we need to accept the fact that he's gone, Jeremy.”

“You might be right, but I'm not able to do that yet.”

“I know.”

A pall fell over the brothers as they each tried to deal with their father's disappearance in their own way— Drew letting go and Jeremy refusing to give up.

When Deanna returned to the table, the conversation turned more upbeat, but Jeremy found himself sliding back into that blue funk that had been haunting him for months—even before he'd come to Red Rock for the wedding.

The only thing that seemed to help his mood was thinking about Kirsten Allen—if that was even her name.

Who was she?

What was her story?

And why in the world did it even seem to matter? Jeremy had never met a woman who could compete with his patients. He was a driven and dedicated physician, and as a result, he'd never married.

Maybe the dream and his interest in the mystery woman were just signs that his subconscious—and his hormones—were trying to rectify the situation.

Either way, something told him that he was going to have to find Kirsten Allen.

And if it took calling Ross and asking for help, then so be it.

 

The rain had moved on by morning, leaving a rainbow in the cloudy sky and puddles on the streets and sidewalks.

Over breakfast, Kirsten had admitted to Max that she'd taken the baby to the clinic yesterday. And she'd been right about his reaction; he'd bristled.

“I can't believe you'd do that without talking to me first,” he'd said. “I don't want you to take over.”

“I'm not trying to do that. I was just worried about his health, and…well, you're right. I shouldn't have gone over your head. I was wrong, and I'm sorry.”

“When is it going to stop, Kirsten? You've been mothering me for years, and I've always resented it. Now you're trying to do it with Anthony. The way I see it, if you want a baby, maybe you should have one of your own.”

She'd tensed at his harshness, but what he'd said was true. Even though she hadn't been around kids, she
had
always wanted to be a mom, to have a family. But that was
not
why she'd fought so hard to take good care of Max, to make sure he grew up happy and responsible.

It was not as though she wanted him to stay some kind of pseudo kid forever. Or that she'd needed someone to mother. “You're the only family I have left, Max. And I feel an obligation to make sure you're happy and able to support yourself.”

“I'm doing fine on my own. I've just had a little setback with the job and all.” He raked a hand through his hair. “You're my big sister, and I get that. But I'm sick of you constantly trying to tell me what to do, how to feel, what to say. It's my life. And I want to make my own way—right or wrong.”

Before she could respond, he added, “I've been on my own for two years—paying my rent, being a man. And you have no idea how it grates on me to have to live with my sister again, to accept your handouts. Believe me, all I want to do is land a new job and get out of here.”

In her heart of hearts, she knew that when Max moved out, it would be the best for her, too. She needed to let go of him and focus on creating a place for herself in Red Rock.

“I'm sorry,” she'd said, repeating the apology she'd made earlier. “I only meant to be helpful. And you're right. Anthony is your son, your responsibility. I'll do my best to back off.”

The fight had seemed to fizzle out of him at her acquiescence, so she'd gone on to say, “I'm trying, Max.
Really,
I am. You're not a kid anymore. And I need to
trust you to make the right decisions for yourself and now for your son. But you'll have to be a little patient with me. Old habits are hard to break.”

“I still can't believe that you took him to the clinic without my permission. What did you tell them? That you were his mother?”

“I wouldn't have lied. But truthfully, I hadn't really thought that far.”

He'd scoffed, and she realized just how impulsive she'd been.

“I can make a hundred excuses for what I did,” she'd admitted, “but I'm not going to do that. You're Anthony's father. And you're right. I overstepped my bounds. From now on, I'm going to step back and let you live your own life—right, wrong or indifferent. Those decisions are yours to make—not mine.”

BOOK: Healing Dr. Fortune
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