LITMIR.BIZ

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       Gabe enjoyed being with Holly, no matter what they were doing.

      He’d felt that way years earlier, before she’d married Tom, and somehow the passing of time hadn’t changed a thing. If anything, the desire to be with her only seemed to have grown stronger. Especially since their kiss.

      Because she was free. No longer engaged to his friend.

      But now he was the one with responsibilities. An emotional young boy, suffering nightmares and reeling from the recent loss of his mother. A boy who desperately needed a father to hold onto.

      Laura Iding loved reading as a child, and when she ran out of books she readily made up her own, completing a little detective mini-series when she was twelve. But, despite her aspirations for being an author, her parents insisted she look into a ‘real’ career. So the summer after she turned thirteen she volunteered as a Candy Striper, and fell in love with nursing. Now, after twenty years of experience in trauma/critical care, she’s thrilled to combine her career and her hobby into one—writing Medical™ Romances for Mills & Boon®. Laura lives in the northern part of the United States, and spends all her spare time with her two teenage kids (help!)—a daughter and a son—and her husband. Enjoy!

       Recent titles by the same author:

       THE SURGEON’S SECRET BABY WISH THE FIREFIGHTER AND THE SINGLE MUM BABY: FOUND AT CHRISTMAS BRIDE FOR A SINGLE DAD HIS PREGNANT NURSE

      EMERGENCY: SINGLE DAD, MOTHER NEEDED

      BY

      LAURA IDING

       www.millsandboon.co.uk

      MILLS & BOON

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EMERGENCY: SINGLE DAD, MOTHER NEEDED

      Michele, I love you.

      Thanks for being my sister and my best friend.

      PROLOGUE

      JT STOOD outside in the cemetery between his Uncle Gabe and his grandma. The man wearing all black except for a white collar was talking about what a wonderful person his mom had been and how much she’d be missed. He dug the toe of his shoe into the soft earth, sad because he already missed his mom. He had been waiting and waiting at Uncle Gabe’s for her to pick him up. But she hadn’t come.

      Uncle Gabe said JT was going to live with him now. He was glad ’cos he liked Uncle Gabe but he still thought maybe his mom might come. They told him his mom was up in heaven but he didn’t know why they had to put her in the ground first. Maybe she’d be so good in heaven that God would send her back down to earth to be with him.

      Grandma was crying. JT felt bad. He’d cried when they’d first told him how his mom had got hurt but now he couldn’t cry anymore. There was a heavy rock sitting on his chest, but he couldn’t cry.

      He tipped his head back, looking up at the tops of the trees near the gravesite. Was his mom already up there, looking down at them? Uncle Gabe had explained all about how heaven worked. Uncle Gabe said that his mom would always be there for him, watching over him like an angel. JT wished she didn’t have to be an angel.

      He wanted her to come back and be his mom.

      Something small moved near the gravestones. It looked like a baby kitty, except the face had dark circles around the eyes. Not a kitty, but a baby raccoon. He watched the way the baby raccoon moved one way and then the other, as if it might be confused.

      When the man in black stopped talking, the grownups came over to talk to Uncle Gabe and Grandma. JT ducked away when no one was looking. When he got close to the gravestone he discovered the baby raccoon on the ground was shaking as if it were scared.

      Maybe Uncle Gabe would let him keep the baby raccoon as a pet? JT crossed over but the baby raccoon tried to get away, hiding in the grass. He quickly caught it in his hands, but it nipped at his finger. Surprised at the sharp pain, he let it go.

      JT sucked the small drop of blood off his finger and watched the baby raccoon run away. Maybe it was too young to be a pet. He thought it must be a boy raccoon, lost and missing his raccoon family.

      Just like he missed his mom.

      CHAPTER ONE

      One month later…

      DR. HOLLY DAVIDSON hadn’t even hung up her coat on the back of her office door when her pager chirped. First day on the job as the pediatric infectious disease specialist at the Children’s Medical Center and she was more than a little nervous. She glanced at the text message: Stat ID consult needed in ED.

      Okay. She blew out a breath. Guess she didn’t have to worry about keeping busy. Trying to ignore her sudden anxiety, Holly tossed her purse into the bottom desk drawer and then quickly headed down the hall toward the elevators.

      Several people nodded or smiled at her as she passed them. The anonymity of working with a sea of faceless strangers was a welcome blessing after the speculative looks and abruptly dropped conversations she’d endured for the year after her divorce.

      She jabbed the elevator button with more force than was necessary. Well, now things would be different. She’d come home to Minneapolis, Minnesota after five and a half years to make a fresh start, and to keep an eye on her ailing mother.

      Keeping her chin up, Holly entered the busy arena of the ED. A couple of residents hovered around the central nurses’ station, laughing and talking with the nurses. She wanted to warn them not to mix business with pleasure, but doubted her wise advice would be welcome.

      “Excuse me, I’m Dr. Davidson. Which patient needs an ID consult?” she asked the unit clerk seated like a queen on her throne at the center of the main desk.

      “Just a minute,” the woman muttered, before picking up the constantly ringing phone. “Emergency Department, this is Susan. May I put you on hold for a moment? Thank you.” Susan didn’t seem at all frazzled as she glanced up at the list of patients. “ID consult? Mark Kennedy in room twelve.”

      “Thanks.” Holly let Susan go back to her incessant phone calls and walked over to the computer terminal near room twelve, one of the many isolation rooms they had in the ED. She needed to get a little more information about her patient before she examined him.

      She logged into the system, relieved her brand-new passwords worked without a hitch, and quickly entered Mark Kennedy’s name to access his current medical record information. He was a fourteen-year-old who’d just entered his freshman year at a boarding school. He’d been brought in for nausea, vomiting, severe headache and stiff neck, complaints he’d had for the past two to three days.

      Bacterial meningitis? Or the less severe viral meningitis? She hoped the poor kid had the less serious type but was afraid it was more likely he had bacterial meningitis, given his history of being a freshman in boarding school. They needed a lumbar puncture to make a definitive diagnosis. Had one been

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