Gray reined in his wayward hormones. The idea was to get over the woman before he left, not make things worse. "Let's go in then."
He tucked Magda's chart under his arm, tapped twice on the door and shoved it open.
Magda lay listless and half-asleep in the bed, an IV taped to her tiny hand. Tubes for nasal oxygen wrapped from her nose around her ears. A grandmotherly aid sat reading in a chair by the bed while a blue, animated dog romped across the television.
Man, the kid was a heart-tugger.
He had to be honest with himself. He wanted to see Magda, too, needed to reassure himself the little imp was healthy and safe. Their parting at the base had rattled even a hard-nose like himself.
The aid closed her book and smiled. Gray held up the chart. "You can take a break. One of us will buzz the nurses' station when we're ready to go."
The older lady nodded as she crossed to the door. "Thank you, Dr. Clark. I'll run down to the cafeteria for coffee and be right back."
Gray held the door open. "No rush."
The door swished closed. Anticipation hummed low as Gray watched Lori stop beside the bed rail. Gently she rested her fingers on Magda's arm. The child startled and turned her head.
Would Magda blame Lori for the scene on the runway, too? Who knew what whirled through her confused mind?
Her tiny bow mouth tipped into a grin. She struggled to sit up, but succumbed to rattling coughs.
Concern a degree beyond professional simmered in Gray. He whipped the stethoscope from his thigh pocket. He knew too well pneumonia was the leading cause of death among children in developing countries. Why the hell hadn't he considered that before suggesting Lori tangle her life and heart up with this kid? Doubts didn't come often to him, so the possibility of being wrong gripped him with alarming force.
However, looking at the two of them together, he couldn't regret his decision. Magda needed her. Lori braced a gentle hand on the child's back, soothing Magda until she could control her breathing. They were right together.
He strolled to the bed. "Hi, Magpie."
Her smile vanished. Magda's bottom lip shot out with a speed and reach his nieces and nephews would have applauded. Her mutinous glare left him with no doubt about her thoughts.
She was mad as spit. At him. Only him. Women had long memories, and he was definitely persona non grata for little Magpie.
Gray warmed the stethoscope on his palm so she could see it and understand. "I need to check your breathing."
Magda eyed the stethoscope and scooted closer to Lori.
Lori clasped Magda's little fingers. "It's okay."
Magda sat rigidly while he slid the stethoscope on her back between the part in her polka-dot hospital gown, then around front. Her breath sounds rattled in his ears. Not a good sign, but perhaps minimally better than the day before.
"How is she?"
Gray draped his stethoscope around his neck and waggled his hand. "A little improved. Why don't you give her the present while I look over her chart?"
"Shouldn't you give—" Magda's scowl in Gray's direction stopped Lori. Her hand fluttered to rest on his arm. "I'm sorry."
"Don't sweat it," he said, trying like hell to ignore Lori's touch. "As long as she gets the toy, it doesn't matter who gives it to her."
Lori's eyes narrowed. "Damn, you're good."
A wry chuckle slipped free. "Well, hon, you haven't said that to me in quite a while."
"And then you're so bad."
Gray backed up a step. "Take care of our little friend while I review her records."
He dropped into a chair by the window, propping his boot on one knee to rest his leg. He opened the chart in his lap and flipped through pages. Lori's Southern drawl poured over him as she talked to Magda, accompanying words with gestures.
Lori mimed a cup brought to her mouth as she asked Magda if she wanted a drink. The girl nodded enthusiastically, and Lori poured her a glass of ice water.