Wedding Date with the Army Doc Read Free Page A

back in the bag, “there is nothing at all going on between me and Dupree. He, well...he’s a player and I really don’t care for men who are full of themselves, you know?”
    â€œHe does like the ladies.” Jackson hadn’t budged from his spot at the door, and she began to wonder why he’d made another visit. “But in this case he does exhibit excellent taste.”
    Really? He thought she was attractive? Before she let herself get all puffed up about his comment, it occurred to her that Jackson must have come back to her office for a reason. Maybe he wanted to ask her to go with him to the garden party? “Did you need something?”
    â€œYes.”
    She mentally crossed her fingers.
    â€œI was just talking to Dr. Gordon. He said he’d like to speak to you when you have a chance.”
    The head of pathology, Dr. Gordon, was her personal mentor, and admittedly a kind of father figure, and when he called, she never hesitated. “Oh. Sure, thanks.” She stood and walked around her desk, then noticed the subtle gaze again from Jackson covering her from head to toe. If only she hadn’t chosen sensible shoes today! But she thanked the manufacturer of realistic-looking falsies for filling out her special mastectomy bra underneath her turquoise top.
    Charlotte strolled side by side with the tall doctor down the hall. She pegged him to be around six-two, based on her five-nine and wearing low wedge shoes, plus the fact her eyes were in line with his classic long and straight nose, except for that small bump on the bridge that gave him such character. She forced her attention away from his face, again noticing his subtly unusual gait, like maybe one shoe didn’t fit quite right. When they reached Dr. Gordon’s office door, she faked casual and said good-bye.
    When he smiled his good-bye, she secretly sighed—what was it about that guy?—and lingered, watching him leave the department.
    â€œYou coming in or are you going to stand out there gawking all afternoon?” As head of pathology, Dr. Gordon had taken her under his wing from her very first day as a resident at St. Francis, and she owed him more than she could ever repay. She also happened to adore the nearly seventy-year-old curmudgeon, with his shocking white hair and clear hazel eyes that had always seemed to see right through her. His double chin helped balance a hawk-like nose.
    â€œSorry. Hi.” She stepped inside his office. “You wanted to talk to me?”
    He grew serious. “Close the door.”
    His instruction sent a chill through her core. Something important was about to happen and the thought made her uncomfortable. He’d better not be retiring because she wasn’t ready for him to leave! She did what she was told, closed the door, then sat across from him at the desk, hoping she wasn’t about to get reprimanded for something.
    He gave his fatherly smile, and immediately she knew she had nothing to worry about. “I’m not going to mince words. My prostate cancer is back and Dr. Hilstead is going to do exploratory surgery on me Monday. I want you to read the frozen sections.”
    Stunned, she could hardly make herself speak. “Yes. Of course.” She wanted to run to him and throw her arms around him, but they didn’t have that kind of relationship. “Whatever you want.” His wife, Elly, had passed away last year, and he’d seemed so forlorn ever since. The last thing the man needed was a cancer threat. Her heart ached for him, but she fought to hide her fears. “I’ll go over those specimens with a fine-tooth comb.”
    â€œAnd I’ll expect no less.” Stoic as always. Pathology had a way of doing that to doctors.
    â€œIs there anything I can do for you this weekend?”
    â€œThank you but no. My son is flying in from Arizona for a few days.”
    â€œI’m glad to hear that.”
    â€œOh, wait,