Page 77 of The Cajun Doctor

It’s lust. Pure unadulterated lust.

Let’s give three cheers for pure unadulterated lust.

The pendulum probably had a different message for Samantha:

He’s helping me with Angus and Lily Beth. Maybe he’s not so bad.

But he’s a doctor.

Doctor, doctor, give me the news . . .

Sometimes sex is the best prescription for what ails you.

I must be going hormone crazy.

But, really, a doctor who can hunker down with a little girl and make her stop crying? Doctor Dan?

On the other hand, he was such a hermit, hiding in the bayou for two years, avoiding work. Lazy, selfish, just like all doctors, thinking of his own interests. The fact that he’d come out of hiding is probably just a ruse.

But he’s so sexy he makes my bones melt.

That last was pure fantasy on Daniel’s part, or perhaps wishful thinking. But he’d seen the way she looked at him. He was no fool. They were going to have sex. And soon.

“What are you smiling about?” she asked, breaking into his reverie.

They were in the middle of the produce department of the supermarket, he driving the shopping cart, she with a bunch of bananas in her hands. Not to be daunted, he was about to tell her, explicitly, when his cell phone rang. Taking it out of his pocket, he checked the caller ID.

“It’s George Laroche. I better take this,” he told Samantha. “They must have the test results already.”

She nodded and continued to gather various produce items and place them in the cart. Two bunches of seedless grapes, green and red. Peaches. Cherries. Apples. Lemons and limes. Then, she added onions, celery, and bell pepper, muttering something about the Holy Trinity of Southern cooking. She added mushrooms, garlic, and a few ripe tomatoes. Was she planning on cooking in that pathetic excuse for a kitchen at Bayou Rose?

Hey, who was he to argue? As long as it didn’t involve okra, he was game to try anything, even her cooking.

“All the tests have come back negative,” George told him.

“That’s good news,” Daniel remarked.

Samantha stopped and looked at him.

He gave a thumbs-up and listened.

“No preeclampsia and only mild anaemia. Get her some iron pills,” George said.

Daniel put his hand over the phone and asked Samantha, “Do they have a pharmacy section in this store where we can get some iron pills?”

She nodded.

Back to George, who continued, “The elevated blood pressure is still a concern, as you know. Make an appointment for her with an obstetrician asap. In the meantime, keep her off her feet as much as possible.”

“Will do. Thanks so much, George. This was above and beyond.”

“Totally self-serving, my boy. You know I want you to join our group. Anything to push you in that direction.”

“I’m thinking about it, George. I’ll give you an answer soon. How was Molly after I left?” Molly was the little girl he’d helped at the medical center.

“Devastated. Turns out her father couldn’t come after all. No place to stay. Yes, yes, I know, you offered to pay for a motel room for him, but it’s unfair to ask any one person to make that kind of donation, especially when there are so many other needy cases.” He sighed deeply.

Molly’s family situation was different than others served by programs like Ronald McDonald Houses, which were intended as temporary relief only. Her father had no long-term job and no permanent address, due to constant absences following hospitalization and travel for his youngest child. He and the other three siblings were spread among various family members. The mother had skipped town after Molly’s initial diagnosis. Some parents just weren’t able to handle sick children.