Free The Doctor's Christmas by Marta Perry Page A

baking.
    â€œMaybe I’d better do it then.” She cut out a church-shaped cookie. “We wouldn’t want the doctor to cause a trauma.”
    His lips quirked. “You might have to report me to the county medical board.”
    â€œWhat’s a tray-mom?” Joey’s voice was loud, as if he’d noticed the byplay and didn’t like it.
    â€œTrauma,” she corrected. “It’s an injury.”
    The boy frowned. “Like when I got my arm broke?”
    Her stomach cramped. “Like that,” she agreed. None of the Bascoms had ever budged from their story that Joey had broken his arm falling out of the apple tree last spring. She’d had her own ideas about how he’d been hurt, but no proof.
    â€œAll ready, Nurse.” Grant straightened. “Will you transfer the patient to the cookie sheet?”
    Joey grinned as she slid the spatula carefully under the reindeer. “Betcha can’t do it, Maggie.”
    â€œYou’re saying that because you know reindeer are the hardest. Just a little more—”
    The reindeer’s foreleg crumbled.
    â€œBroken,” Tacey whispered.
    Grant chuckled. “Looks as if we’ll have to set the patient’s leg.”
    He reached across the table, his arm brushing Maggie’s as he molded the dough back together again. Another wave of warmth swept over her. Really, ifthe man stayed around long enough, she wouldn’t need much firewood for the winter.
    â€œDone.” Grant dusted off his hands. “I predict a full recovery.”
    Joey leaned over to inspect. “It’ll break again when we take it off the pan,” he predicted.
    â€œThe cookie will taste just as good,” Maggie said. “Come on, now. Let’s get this last tray finished, and soon it will be time to eat some.”
    Tacey was staring at Grant instead of cutting out her cookies. “Dr. Grant?” Her voice was soft as a snowflake drifting to the earth. “Why didn’t your mommy bake cookies with you?”
    Grant was standing so close that Maggie could feel him stiffen at the question. Apprehension rose in her. If he snubbed the child for her innocent words…
    He seemed to force a smile. “My mommy didn’t like to do things like that.”
    â€œDidn’t like to do things with you?” Clearly that was beyond Tacey’s comprehension. “Why? Were you bad?”
    She ought to intervene. Still, what could she say?
    Grant’s expression hadn’t changed, but something lurked in the depths of his eyes that wrenched her heart. What kind of childhood had he had? She’d assumed that silver spoon he’d been born with protected him from hurt.
    â€œNo, I wasn’t bad.” His smile faltered for an instant. “Some people just don’t like to do things with kids. You’re lucky to have Maggie.”
    â€œAnd Mommy,” Joey said quickly. “Mommy always makes cookies with us.”
    Robby’s face clouded. “I want Mommy.”
    â€œShe’ll be back soon,” Maggie said quickly, hoping to avert a storm. Robby, the youngest, cried the most over Nella’s absence, though all three of them were affected. “Soon. You’ll see.”
    If they weren’t convinced, at least they didn’t argue the point. They wanted to believe in Nella’s return even more than Maggie did.
    The children turned their attention back to the cookies. Maggie tried to watch Grant’s face without him catching her doing it.
    What had just happened? Her neat preconceptions about the kind of life Grant had led had taken a serious jolt. She actually felt a twinge of sympathy for the man she’d thought had everything.
    She glanced again at his classic, composed features. Only a little tension around his mouth suggested that he’d been bothered by that exchange, or that he’d said more about himself than he’d intended to.
    But he had.