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The Nurse And The Single Dad. Dianne DrakeЧитать онлайн книгу.

The Nurse And The Single Dad - Dianne  Drake


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at a place in his life where he could go out of the way to expand his relationship horizons. Right now, everything was too complicated. But the prospect of seeing Zoey again, well, that almost excited him. It made him feel guilty, too, because it felt like his excitement to see Zoey was betraying Elizabeth. And he didn’t want to feel that way when he was trying hard to push himself forward in his life.

      * * *

      Daniel Caldwell. It had been a year since she’d last seen him and what a difference that year had made. He’d been so gaunt back then, taking care of his wife and child, as well as maintaining his position at the hospital. Burning his candle at more ends than a candle had to burn. The stress of that time had certainly taken its toll on Daniel and, if it hadn’t shown in the thinness of his face, it did show in the haunting, distant look she always saw in his eyes. It was a difficult time for him and she understood the toll it had taken. She’d seen it before in the families of other patients.

      Yet, Daniel was different than most. He internalized his tragedy more than many people did. At least, the ones she’d come into contact with. And he’d always made sure that everyone around him was taken care of first, before his own needs were met. Even her. Zoey recalled how he’d always put on a fresh pot of coffee for her, something that had been totally unnecessary, but welcomed. She’d told him she could make her own coffee, but he wouldn’t hear of that, insisting that every little effort helped the cause, which in Daniel’s case had been his wife.

      He’d been right about that, as the more Elizabeth had progressed into her illness the more help she’d needed, which meant the less time Zoey had had to attend to the little things. Back then, she’d truly appreciated the kindness in a simple cup of coffee.

      More than that, she’d appreciated Daniel’s devotion to Elizabeth. A lot of people turned away in the last moments, trying to avoid the inevitable. Oh, they might be there in the flesh, but the rest of them would tune out. Not Daniel, though. He’d stayed right in there until the end, doing whatever he could do to help his wife, and also to help her.

      Zoey admired that, wishing that she could have seen what appeared to her as the ideal marriage at a different point in time. It was hard for her to imagine someone being that happy in a relationship. She’d never been, and somewhere along the line she’d quit holding out the hope that it could ever happen for her. Her own failure at marriage had really knocked her off her game. Caused her to lack confidence in herself when it came to maintaining other relationships. Truth was, she wasn’t sure she could do that again. At least, not with the same enthusiasm she’d had for her first marriage, tragedy that it was.

      Zoey didn’t exclude herself from the possibility of having something more in her future, though. Not entirely. She did have a little hope left, a dying ember. But she wondered if she could approach it with the passion she knew would be needed, as the passion had been dead in her for such a long time now. Brad had seen to that.

      Maybe someday she’d settle down and try it again, since life alone wasn’t that great. But not until she found all the pieces of herself that were still missing—the pieces Brad had stolen from her when their marriage had broken up. The basic hope that he’d robbed her of. The disillusionment he’d left in its place. He’d chipped away and chipped away until so much was gone. And she’d let it happen because she’d thought that was part of being in true love, naive as that might have seemed.

      Yet, true love had failed her. And quickly. She’d recognized Brad for who he really was early on, and the rest of their few months together had turned into a futile effort of honing her coping skills, trying to figure out where she’d gone so wrong, falling for someone like him. How could she have been so stupid?

      Admittedly, he’d hurt her. Not in her heart so much as in her confidence in herself to make wise relationship choices. He’d caused her to lose her bearings in all the things she’d always believed, always wanted. Even now, while she was sure of herself on the outside, everything inside her still quivered with doubts. The result of that was a lack of trust in herself to venture out again. She hadn’t dated, hadn’t wanted to. Hadn’t even thought much about it. Turning her back on the whole muddy affair was easier and, until she was sure she wouldn’t mess up again, she was perfectly happy right where she was.

      Sighing, Zoey thought about what her future might hold. A real relationship? One that she trusted? Suddenly, Daniel flashed into her mind and she fantasized about how it would be nice to come home to someone like him. Someone who nurtured. Someone who was passionate about his love. It was such an illusion, though. Daniel was one in a million. She’d heard the affectionate way he’d spoken to his wife, seen the way he’d taken care of her. How he’d sat at her bedside for hours on end, simply holding her hand while she slept. How tenderly he’d kissed her when her pain had been so excruciating she’d been nearly out of her head. How lovingly he’d embraced her in her final moments.

      Yes, she’d been granted such an inspiring look into an intimacy she’d never before seen the likes of, and that was when she knew that there weren’t many men like Daniel out there. Elizabeth had been a very lucky woman to have him and, in a way, Zoey envied her for that because a man like Daniel was all she’d ever wanted for herself.

      Would she ever find that man? Find someone who cared so deeply and passionately that nothing else in the world seemed to matter? Find someone to love her the way Daniel had loved Elizabeth?

      Daniel... Zoey’s mind wandered back to him once again as she drove to her first appointment. He looked good with those few extra pounds he’d put on. And his eyes weren’t so haunted now. It meant he was moving on, and that was commendable, considering what he’d gone through. Some people got stuck at the mourning stage and couldn’t get out. But he had his daughter to care for, and he also had his work at the hospital. Those were good for him. They gave him a great focus.

      It had been nice bumping into Daniel today. As a rule she never kept up with the families of her patients once her term of service had ended. Some of them wanted to cling to her as a means of avoidance, but she’d found that a clean break was better for everyone concerned. So chance meetings like the one she’d had with Daniel were rare, and ever rarer was sitting down and talking to them. In fact, Daniel was her first, and she didn’t know what had compelled her to sit down with him.

      Maybe because, in theory, he was a colleague? They were, after all, employed by the same hospital even though they were totally isolated from one another. In the past year, when she’d had occasion to go the hospital, she’d glanced around, wondering if she’d see him. Their paths had never crossed, however, and it had never occurred to her to look him up. Because she always kept it professional, as there had to be divisions between personal and professional.

      Not that she had a personal life going on right now. Go home, study case notes, feed Fluffy, her Persian diva cat, make a few phone calls, eat a late supper, do some reading and drift off to sleep. Repeat the next day. Then there were the weekends—errands galore. Grocery shopping, laundry, at least a half-day in the office putting charts onto the computer while no one was around to bother her. Plus all the other stuff she did on a daily basis. Oh, and wall-climbing on most Saturdays. She did enjoy that!

      Occasionally, if she was bored, she’d treat herself to a movie with all the trimmings—diet soda and buttered popcorn. In the dark, no one cared that she was there all by herself, and it was nice to bask in that anonymity for a couple of hours. No expectations, no worries.

      But every Sunday morning she made that obligatory call to her mother.

      “How are you doing, dear?” her mother would say.

      “I’m fine, Mom.”

      “Anything happening in your life yet?”

      “Same ol’, same ol’.”

      “No new boyfriend, no dating?”

      “Just keeping to myself, Mom. And working.”

      “So when are you going to find yourself a nice man, settle down and give me some grandbabies?”

      “Not in the near future, as far as I can tell. I don’t meet eligible men in my


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