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Thea had called one night after midnight, sounding exhausted and distant.
No wonder—she and Rafe were living in his house at the edge of town until their home could be built on Walking Stones property. She probably only caught a few hours of sleep each night before having to make that thirty-mile trip back out to the ranch. “Come out to see us sometime,” she’d said. “Or we’ll come to see you.”
But no one had made the trip into Garrett Bluff for a social call, and Jolie had been working around the clock herself, tryingto get the clinic ready on time. Or maybe that was just an excuse to avoid going out there...
When the small bell tinkled above the front door, she nearly jumped out of her chair. Hand at her throat, she stood and found a harried girl of maybe nineteen with a blanket-covered baby carrier in one hand and a diaper bag in the other.
The girl glanced uncertainly at Jolie, then scanned the empty room. “Uh...is this Dr. Maxwell’s office? I read the notice in the paper, but maybe...”
“You’re in the right place.” Jolie walked out into the waiting room and smiled at her. “I’m Jolie Maxwell.”
“Maria Ramirez. And this is my son, Emiliano. He’s three months old,” she added proudly. She dropped the diaper bag onto a chair and lifted the blanket, revealing a tiny face streaked with tears. He was asleep, but obviously he’d had some major complaints a short time earlier.
Jolie brushed her fingertips gently across his soft cheek. Slightly warm, but dry. “What a beautiful little boy. How is he doing?”
“He wasn’t feeling good yesterday. I thought he had just a mild cold, but he was up all last night. As soon as I put him down, he started to scream. He wouldn’t eat, he wouldn’t even let me sit down to rock him. I’ve been walking with him almost nonstop. He finally fell asleep on the way here.”
Jolie mentally ran through the most likely possibilities as Maria filled out a new patient information sheet. An ear infection was likely, for starters.
“Is he on a bottle?”
Maria shook her head as she handed back the completed form. “Nope, never.”
“Any diarrhea? Vomiting?”
“Nope.”
“Fever?”
“Last night, he was up to 101 degrees, so I gave him a dose of liquid Tylenol. It seemed to bring down his temperature, but he was still just as cranky.”
Once they reached the exam room, Jolie gave the mother a sympathetic smile. “I hate to wake him, but we’ll need to undress him down to his diaper.”
With efficient movements, Maria undressed the sleeping baby.
His breathing was even and quiet, no noticeable wheezes or congestion when Jolie listened to his chest with the stethoscope.
But the moment she gently positioned the otoscope in his right ear, his eyes flew open. His little arms flailed as he arched his back and gave a piercing scream.
“Poor baby,” Jolie crooned as she used the moment to check the other ear and look at the back of his throat.
After palpating his abdominal area for tenderness, she checked his temperature. 100.0.
Maria held him steady and murmured comforting nonsense to him, but his heartrending sobs escalated with every passing minute. “Can I pick him up now?” Her voice trembled.
At the clinic in L.A., Jolie had learned to watch for subtle signs of parental neglect or worse. But this mother hovered close to her child and, despite her obvious exhaustion, was on the verge of picking up the baby to comfort him whether Jolie was ready or not. A good sign.
“Of course.”
When she picked him up, he immediately clutched tightly at her shirt, as if he couldn’t get close enough to her. A sob shook through him. He stared at Jolie, his eyes wide and wet with fresh tears.
After writing a progress note in Emiliano’s new chart, Jolie set her pen aside. “His lungs are clear, his throat is a bit inflamed. He does have quite an ear infection—more so on theright. Has he ever been on antibiotics? Had any trouble with them?”
With one hand, Maria dug into the purse she’d dropped on the counter and withdrew a spiral notebook. She flipped it open to show Jolie a page listing the dates and details of several mild illnesses. “The erythromycin seemed to bother his stomach, but the others were okay.”
A good,caringmom, despite her own youth. Jolie calculated the dosage for amoxicillin and wrote a prescription, then explained the times and amounts. “You can continue the liquid Tylenol. He should be feeling better by tonight or tomorrow. If he isn’t, you can call me and I’ll take another look.”
“I just want him to feel well. Having a good night’s sleep will do usbothgood.” Maria bundled Emiliano back into his snowsuit and gathered her things. “It’s great having a full-time doctor here again,” she added fervently.
