Mercy. She should’ve never looked.
Court stood with his back to her, bare to the waist. His broad shoulders looked even wider with the flicker of firelight reflecting off the dampness of his back. His pants rode low on his hips. In his bare feet, he took the stance of a Greek god she’d seen on her visit to Greece during high school. The statue had made enough of an impression to be remembered just as Court made one now.
He raised an arm and moved the cloth with easy grace down his arm, causing the muscles in his back to ripple. He repeated the process on his other arm.
Maggie’s chest tightened. Had she been in Africa so long she’d become a voyeur? She swallowed the golf-ball-size lump in her throat. She’d never thought she’d enjoy being a peeping Tom but this show was well worth it. Court was an outstanding example of virile male. If she could just touch…
His back remained to her as he said, “You know, the best form of flattery is having someone stare at you.” His words rumbled low and rough.
Maggie closed her eyes, went still.
His sexy chuckle rippled through her until she found sleep.
* * *
“Missy Maggie, I not feel good.”
Court was already getting to his feet as Neetie finished the last word. Maggie crawled out of her bedroll and asked, “Neetie, what’s wrong?”
“Stomach hurt.”
Maggie spoke to the woman who had brought Neetie to the hut. She nodded and left. “Well, that shouldn’t be too hard to fix. Why don’t you let Mister Doctor take a look at you?”
Court didn’t move. When would he get past the reluctance he felt each time he had to examine a child? It was his job. Had been his life’s calling. But now he didn’t seem able to give his patients all he should, especially the children. Sometimes all they required was special attention, and he didn’t seem capable even of that any more.
Neetie glanced at him then looked at Maggie. “No, you,” the boy said.
The boy’s rejection cut deep. Had Court become so unapproachable to children? At one time, his ability to get children to cooperate had been legendary.
He could identify with this child on one level. Court, too, knew what it meant to say goodbye to people you loved forever. That much he and the boy had in common.
It’s time to act like the doctor you used to be.
Court went down on one knee, which put him almost at eye level with Neetie. “I promise to do my best to make you feel better if you will tell me where it hurts. Will you trust me?” The words came out haltingly at first but he finally managed the right tone.
Neetie looked at Maggie. She nodded and he looked back at Court. “Okay.” Little enthusiasm infused the word but Court would take it.
Maggie knelt beside Court, placing his bag between them. Pulling his stethoscope out of his bag, Court took a fortifying breath. “Can you point to where it hurts?”
“Don’t know, it just hurts.”
“Let me give you a listen and see if there is more going on. I’ll be easy.” Court said, placing the disk of the stethoscope on Neetie’s thin chest.
“Take a deep breath.”
The boy did as instructed, but groaned when he exhaled.
Court had him lie down on Maggie’s bedroll. When Court examined Neetie’s abdomen he questioned the tightness and the ridge of the liver that was more prominent than it should have been.
“Mister Doctor make me feel better?”
Court gave Neetie an earnest look. “I hope so, Neetie, I hope so.”
Never more in his life had he hoped he was telling the truth. Could he live with himself if he was wrong again? “Why don’t you stay here tonight? That way Missy Maggie and I can keep an eye on you.”
Neetie pushed away, fear on his face. “You going to put an eye on me?”
Court’s laughter exploded from deep within him, creating a rumble throughout the hut. Maggie joined him, her mirth soft and sweetly entwined with his. It felt great to laugh. Something that he hadn’t done in months, maybe even years.
Controling his merriment, Court rubbed Neetie’s
head. “No, my man, I will not be putting an eye on
you. I’ll just check on you.”
Maggie settled Neetie into her bedroll. The boy whimpered and rolled into a ball. With the gentle stroking of her hand on his back he calmed and slept.
Court stuffed his stethoscope back into his med bag and placed it beside his bedroll. It had felt good to interact with a child again. He chuckled. If nothing else, they were refreshingly literal. Hopefully this was nothing more than a simple gastrointestinal event.
He watched as Maggie ran a hand along the boy’s cheek and made a soft cooing sound. She loved Neetie. Court’s insecurity wouldn’t let him trouble her over something he wasn’t confident was truly a problem. With any luck Neetie’s trouble was nothing more than a simple stomachache.
Court couldn’t remember ever seeing a patient’s mother treat a child with as much concern as Maggie gave this boy. She’d shown Neetie, who was no real relation, more love and comfort than his mother had ever shown him. For one brief moment, he wished he was on the receiving end of her attention.
His parents had seemed to have only had time for Lyland. He had needed more, understandably, but Court had always felt like an outsider, looking in. Even though he’d been young, he remembered how devastated his parents had been when Lyland had died. Court had been too. He had been his twin brother. The other half of him.
With Lyland gone, his mother and father had concentrated all their time and energy on the work of the foundation. With his older sisters seeing about themselves, he had been left in the care of a nanny, then sent off to boarding school. What few meals their family had shared had revolved around the importance of the work the foundation supported.
A warm strange feeling filled him as he watched Maggie with Neetie. Would that ever be possible in his life? No, he wouldn’t let it be. It would hurt too much when it was taken away.
“I saw your face when you were palpating his belly. What’s wrong with Neetie?” Maggie’s quiet question laden with distress brought him out of his musings.
He hadn’t meant to be so transparent. Court moved to sit beside her. “I can’t be sure at this stage, but his liver is slightly distended.”
“Hepatitis.” Maggie said the word like pronouncing a death warrant.
She’d been working in Ghana long enough to recognize the common disease among the people. Court ran a reassuring hand across her shoulders. “I can’t say for sure based on what I know so far. It may be a bug. We’ll have to wait and see how he does. I’ll stay up with him awhile. Why don’t you get some sleep?”
Maggie’s body seemed to lose some of its rigidness.
“I’m going to sit here awhile. You go ahead. I want to keep the fire going enough to keep him warm.”
“Look, Maggie, you can’t stay up all night and work all day. I sure can’t, especially if I don’t have to. Neetie’s fine. We’re both right here. So what’s the real problem?”
She craned her neck back to look up at him, her eyes flashing. “There’s only your bedroll left, that’s the problem.”
“I don’t mind sharing.”
She screwed up her face at him.
“Don’t get your hackles up. We both need some rest. Why don’t we spread my bedroll out on the other side of Neetie? That’ll put him between us and the fire. You can reach out and check on him during the night.”
Maggie opened her mouth to protest but he held up a hand. “Let me finish. We don’t have to get in it. There’s an extra blanket in my pack we can use for a cover. Will that work?”
She nodded but showed no enthusiasm for his plan as she focused on Neetie. While he arranged their bed Maggie put a couple of small pieces of wood on the fire. By the time he found the blanket, she’d crawled on top of the sleeping bag and lay on her side, with her back to him.
Court stretched out beside her, flipping the all-purpose covering up and over them. She remained as rigid as an iron bar as he settled down. A few quiet minutes passed before he gave in to temptation to lighten the mood and whispered softly, “Remind me to thank Neetie for giving me the opportunity to sleep with you.”
Receiving the reward of a quick kick to the shin, he let out a theatrical moan.