She frowned as he turned town her street. At the far end, in front of her bungalow, she recognized the older model pickup truck that his workers had driven over before. It sat in her driveway now.
“I don’t understand.” She straightened in her seat, trying to see what Vaughn had in mind. “You aren’t responsible for us, Vaughn. There’s no need—”
“I know that. I want to help. Consider it an early baby-shower gift.” He slowed to a stop behind the red Ford. “At first, I asked Micah and Brandon to meet us here in case you needed help bringing raw material to the hospital.” He put his own pickup in Park and switched off the engine while both of his workers hopped out of their vehicle. “But then, I thought it would be a good idea for them to bring some shovels so they could lay the wire for a home security system I’m having installed.”
He’d arranged all of that? Stunned, it took her a moment to reply.
“That’s far too generous. I can’t let you do that.” Being independent meant making wise financial decisions on a budget. She could put it on an installment plan.
“You can pay the monitoring fee.” He offered that like it was a compromise. “But for today, we’ll at least get you up and running so you can sleep here tonight.”
Outside on her lawn, she could see the brothers taking measurements of her front yard, stretching a metal tape between them. She let Vaughn’s words roll around her brain, trying not to overreact to the implication that she wouldn’t be welcome at Vaughn’s house on a regular basis. Was she reading too much into it?
Or was that an astute assessment based on how he’d left her bed after their night together?
“In that case, because I wouldn’t want to inconvenience you for a second night in a row, I gratefully accept.” She turned to lever open the passenger door, unwilling to wait for him.
“Abby, wait—”
She charged into the house to start her day, knowing Vaughn was due at the hospital soon. She had a lot of supplies to gather. Materials he would arrange to transport for her. He remained charming and accommodating. A tender lover and a thoughtful friend.
He was on track to do everything right in making her heart yearn for him. Right up until the moment when he pulled away because he wasn’t ready for a relationship.
Especially not a whole family.
She knew all of those things. Had understood them going into last night. It wasn’t fair to take her disappointment out on Vaughn, when it was her own fault for letting her guard down around him.
But that didn’t stop a whole lot of hurt from flooding through her as she changed her clothes and prepared for a day on the job site. Today, she was focusing on her art.
Her tribute to Alannah.
Any feelings for the sexy doctor were strictly off-limits.
* * *
Running a fishtail blade in a long sweep down the tree sculpture, Abigail watched the thin layer of wood peel away as she formed the smooth surface into carved bark.
She’d been crafting the sculpture for nearly twelve hours straight, stopping only to eat a quick bite in the hospital cafeteria a couple of times. And, of course, she’d had to stop to direct Micah’s younger brother, Brandon, when he’d arrived with the additional limbs Abigail had requested.
He had been quicker and more efficient than the movers the day before and he’d refused her attempts to tip him, wheedling that what he really wanted was to work as her apprentice for the day and learn a new woodworking skill. She’d had reservations, certain Vaughn had planted that idea in his head. But Brandon had proven a quick and eager study, paying close attention to her demonstration for carving the joints to graft new pieces onto the tree. He’d had an occasional question or observation based on the kinds of wood she was using, impressing her with how fast he understood that various grains had different responses to the chisels and gouges she used.
His help had been invaluable, freeing her up to do the detail work she really wanted to complete before the hospital’s summer gala. Not that she’d ever fully succeeded in chasing Vaughn from her thoughts today. She’d heard him paged earlier and had wondered what had happened.
If she was distracted from her work, she could always go back and fix mistakes, but a trauma surgeon didn’t have that luxury. He had to be focused all the time or the difference could be a matter of life and death. The thought made her wish she’d tabled this morning’s discussion until a later time.
Straightening from her efforts on the bark, she stepped back to view the texture of the piece.
A little girl in a hospital gown paused beside the caution tape surrounding the workspace. No more than seven or eight years old, the patient held hands with a nurse, trailing an IV cart as she pointed to the trunk.
“Are you carving a tree out of a tree?” she called over to Abigail. The auburn-haired sprite scrunched her nose as she looked at the sculpture, clearly perplexed.
“I am.” Abigail stepped closer to her, setting aside the fishtail knife. “I’m starting with one big tree in the center, but I hope to add other trees all around it so you will feel like you’re walking through a forest.”
The child widened her green eyes and peered up at her nurse. “Wow. So even when it rains, it will be like we can go outside.”
The nurse, a tall, willowy blonde in bright purple scrubs, explained, “Zoe is disappointed it’s raining today. She likes it when we can go outdoors.”
Abigail’s chest squeezed in empathy, and she wondered how much time Zoe spent in the children’s ward. Her
