Dueling Drs: A Small Town Hospital Romance

“You did.” He stood and towered over me, his dark expression studying me too carefully. “We had an argument and a texting teenager came around the curve as you were backing out of the driveway.”

Okay, maybe that made more sense. I looked down to catalogue my injuries. A broken arm already encased in a cast, which meant that I wouldn’t be doing any surgeries anytime soon. No surgery during my surgical fellowship meant it was official. The fellowship, and my time in Jackson’s ridge, was over. I would be gong back to Alabama sooner than expected. It was for the best. Really. My eyes drifted up to Drew and my heart clenched with ache and with loss. I had to look away, I couldn’t look at his deep blue eyes, filled with concern, for another minute. Of course he was concerned, anyone would be who’d witnessed a car accident. Tears filled my eyes and I turned away from him.

“Zola,” he groaned and I shook my head.

“No, Drew. Just go. It’s fine. I’m fine. Everything will be fine.” Or at least some version of fine. It had to be because that, because Alabama was my future. My fellowship was over which meant my career as an innovative pediatric heart surgeon was still just a pipe dream. I would go back home and go back into the OR when my cast came off, then I would get back to my regularly scheduled life as a surgeon. An ordinary surgeon and single mother. That was my future and the sooner I accepted that, the easier things would be.

The door opened and Cal peeked his handsome head and smiled. “Good. You’re up.”

“I am. What’s up?” I held my breath and waited as he stepped inside, each footstep hesitant and deliberate as if he had to force himself to come in and say what needed to be said.

“Clearly you know you have a broken arm,” he sighed. “A fracture in the radius and ulna. Sorry.” He flashed a look of sympathy because we both knew what that meant. A long recovery even after the bones were healed, and there was no guarantee I would regain full motion to continue the delicate work of heart surgery. “You’ll be sore for a while thanks to the left side impact and you won’t be in the OR for a couple months. But the good news is that the baby is fine. Healthy and strong for nine weeks.”

My shoulders sank in relief at his words. “Thank you, Cal. Can I go home?”

Cal nodded. “Sure. In a few hours.”

The door smacked open and Granddaddy, Suzie and the twins tumbled inside. “Zola! You took about ten years off my life, sweet girl.” Granddaddy held Gigi in his arms and bent over, wrapping one big arm around me.

Suzie dove in next, tears in her eyes and a slightly fussy Berna in her arms. “Honey, are you all right?”

I nodded and tried for a smile. “I’m fine guys. Seriously, it was little more than a fender bender.”

“It was more than a fender bender,” Drew growled.

I glared up at him. “I’m fine. It’s just a broken arm.” And the end of a dream, but that was my problem, no one else’s.

Granddaddy pulled back and swiped a fist at the water pouring from his eyes. “Thought I’d lost you for good, Zo.”

I smiled at his words, this man who was now family. I’m going to miss him. “Not yet, Granddaddy. You’re stuck with me for a little while longer.”

“How much longer?” Leave it to Suzie to ask the important question. I looked up at her green eyes, so thoughtful and all-seeing behind plain black glasses.

I could deflect or lie, but I wouldn’t. Suzie and Granddaddy were family and they deserved the truth, even if saying the words out loud might kill me, or worse, break my heart irreparably. “I can’t do surgery for a while, if ever again, so not much longer. I’m going back to Alabama.”

Drew

Alabama. She’s going to Alabama and she would probably never return to Jackson’s Ridge. Ever. “What?” I stood and pushed forward to see the truth in her eyes for myself. “You can’t.” I knew I sounded angry an indignant, like a child throwing a tantrum and I didn’t give a damn. “You can’t,” I repeated, leaning into the tantrum.

Zola stiffened at my words but she didn’t look up at me, didn’t acknowledge me.

“I’m talking to you, Zola.” This couldn’t be it, couldn’t be how things ended with us. “You’re having my baby.” My baby. A baby that would grow up on the other side of the country. Without me.

Zola’s gaze found Cal’s. “I’m feeling pretty tired. I think I’ll nap until the discharge papers are ready.”

“Zola,” I growled in warning but she acted as if I didn’t exist. “I’m sorry about the accident.” I should have led with that. “If I hadn’t made you cry, maybe you would have seen the damn teenager and none of this would have happened, but you don’t have to leave.”