The Doctor's Undoing by Allie Pleiter Read Free Book Online Page A

Landway pulled the door shut behind her with one hand while the other went over her eyes. “I don’t know what to say.”
    She looked as if she might cry, and Daniel was surprised at how deeply her regret touched him. It wasn’t right how unfair this place could be to anyone trying to make a difference. Daniel remembered how the need to do something—anything—for these children had nearly drowned him in his first days at the orphanage. He’d given a sweet to one of the girls when she’d banged a finger and found himself amid a similar storm of “Why can’t I have one?” howls.
    He searched for something soothing to say. “It was a generous and kind impulse, Miss Landway.”
    She slumped down on one of the dining chairs, distressed. “I had no idea it would cause such a ruckus. I just wanted to put a bit of cheery color...”
    â€œI believe your heart was in the right place.” Daniel moved to the sideboard and poured two cups of coffee. “You simply need to learn how to channel such impulses into things that benefit
all
the girls without singling out one.” He held up a cube of sugar in a silent inquiry, and she nodded, parking her chin on one hand. “It’s one of the most difficult things about working here, and one of the reasons I asked you to clear any ideas with me.”
    â€œThey’re
just socks
.” Her moan sounded as if it could have come from one of the girls.
    Daniel set the cup and a small pitcher of cream down in front of the nurse. “No, they’re not. How can I get you to see that?”
    Miss Landway dumped a generous portion of cream into her coffee. The woman did nothing by halves, he was beginning to see that. “So I can’t do anything for one of them, I have to only do things that can be done for all of them?” She made it sound dreadful.
    â€œI think what just happened should make that obvious.” He collected his own coffee and sat opposite her.
    â€œBut they’re individuals. Each of them is unique. Their differences ought to be celebrated, not ignored by making sure everything they have is exactly the same.”
    Daniel remembered that urge, and felt a tinge of regret that practicality had squelched it out of him so effectively. “In a perfect world, I’d agree, but...”
    Her eyes sparked. “But nothing. Don’t you go telling me we don’t live in a perfect world. That’s a poor excuse for not letting a baby girl wear pink booties.”
    She was going to take some breaking in, this one. “I’m not saying Meredith cannot wear booties. But she cannot be the
only one
wearing pink booties.” He fished the pink things out of his pocket. “Make them all booties, or socks, or whatever—I’ve no objections to gifts as long as
every
girl receives them.”
    â€œIt’ll take me months.” He noticed her phrasing. She would do it. He could see it in her eyes.
    He didn’t know where she’d find the time—he didn’t know how she’d managed to make the pair he now placed on the table between them. “When did you make these?”
    She took a long sip of coffee, which gave him a hint of the answer. “I couldn’t sleep last night. Once I got the idea, I couldn’t sleep until they were done. This place is starving for color, Dr. Parker. Can’t you see that? I just had to do something.” She reached out and fingered one of the small pink fluffs. “They made Meredith so happy.” Miss Landway looked up at him. “And they made all the other girls so miserable.”
    He couldn’t help but offer her a smile. “In your defense, it doesn’t take much in this heat. The smallest thing can set them off. Even Mrs. Smiley can lose her delightful charm.” That last remark surprised him—Daniel hadn’t joked about Mrs. Smiley’s dour personality in months.
    â€œShe is