The Baby Who Stole the Doctor's Heart by Dianne Drake

into his lungs and measured itinto some sort of bellows. It was all a strange, new world to Angela, and while she’d spent a good bit of time in hospitals, especially lately, it was as if this was the first time she’d ever really noticed what went on. And it scared her. Yet it also showed her just how much she didn’t know, and how much she wanted to know. “I probably should have gone on home and taken him with me, but I wanted to see…to know how Richard’s doing. He’s a nice man. I used to come out of the kitchen and have dessert with him when he ate at the lodge.”
    â€œSo far, he’s not doing very well,” Mark whispered. “We’re having trouble getting him stabilized. He was hypothermic…too cold…”
    â€œI know what that means,” she said.
    â€œNot sure how long, but it’s causing problems with his vital signs. He’s not warming up the way we’d like. Everything’s sluggish.”
    â€œBut isn’t the cold actually good? Doesn’t it slow things down, sort of keep someone in a state of hibernation?” It sounded dumb, but she was curious.
    â€œIt does. The body slows down, requires less oxygen, and the cold helps keep things in a more balanced condition.”
    â€œBut not Richard?”
    â€œActually, I think the fact that it’s so cold is probably what saved him, but he’s got another problem, which is causing complications. What we think happened is that he slipped on the ice, broke his hip…a fairly substantial break that caused some internal bleeding. He was probably lying there for quite a while. Went into shock, got too cold for too long…a lot of contributing factors.”
    â€œBut he’d probably be dead if it weren’t for the cold temperature?”
    â€œProbably. It saved him, yet it’s making his situation more complicated. He’s alive, though, and that’s the good thing.”
    â€œSo he’s going to make it?” she asked, hopefully. Even though she no longer cooked at the lodge, she and Sarah still joined him there most Friday nights for dessert. The routine, as insignificant as it seemed, was part of their lives, like the way so many other seemingly insignificant things were here in White Elk. And none of them were really insignificant at all, not even dessert with a kind old man, as they were the things that made up only a small part of the reason she wanted to raise her daughter here.
    â€œNot sure yet. We’ll know more in the next twenty-four hours. And even then he’s going to require some pretty drastic surgery. Which means that if Mr. Whetherby doesn’t have someone at home to take care of his dog…” he reached out and scratched Fred on the head “…looks like you’re it.”
    â€œNo dogs where I live. It’s a rental. That’s the rule.”
    â€œLook, I’ve got about thirty more minutes here before we get Mr. Whetherby transferred to Intensive Care. Maybe in that time you can find someone who will take the dog temporarily, then I’ll drive you home.”
    She could have called a cab, could have even walked the mile and a half, although it was getting colder out and the snow was coming down a little harder. But she wanted to ride with Mark, wanted to hear him talk about what had happened tonight, wanted to hear his assessment. Anything to keep her connected to the medical moment. So she agreed to ask around the hospital for a temporary home for Fred, only to be turned down time after time. Allergies, other dogs, not enough time to take care of the pup…in thirty minutes she heard every imaginable excuse. Consequently, when she returned to the emergency department in search of Mark, Fred was still bundled into her arms.
    â€œRichard came round,” Mark said, pulling on his winter coat. “We took him off the ventilator because he’s breathingon his own now, and the first thing