Luke(16)

"Yes, but I'm lurgic to them," the boy announced proudly.

"Yes, you are," Faith said. "Very allergic. Which is why we use these other techniques."

With a sigh, Luke sat up. His hair was tousled, his eyes sleepy from lying down for so long, and right then and there, even braced for their usual disagreement, even bogged down by her annoyance at having to put up with him at all, Faith experienced another little unwanted flutter inside.

How was it possible she wanted this man?

And yet … stubborn, egotistical and single-minded as he was, he truly was amazing with her patients. As she thought it, he reached out for Billy's hand, which the boy happily gave him. "I guess," Dr. Walker said with a gusty sigh, "I could go first."

"Yippee!" Billy cried. Together they walked past Faith—both giving her a little wave, Luke adding a little brow raise to that wave, one that told her they weren't finished, not by a long shot—and out the door they went, with Billy, for the first time in recent memory, grinning.

Faith took a moment and sat, not sure if her weak knees could be attributed to not feeling great, or Luke himself. Today alone he'd brought a smile to a terminal cancer patient, a laugh to a child suffering with life-threatening asthma.

And a hitch to her own heart.

Not bad for his second week in the place.

*

When all the patients had gone for the day, Faith sat cross-legged in the center of her bed with some herbal tea and a stack of bills. Being alone was the usual state for her at night, and while occasionally she felt a little lonely, a little unsure if maybe she'd let too much of life pass her by, for the most part she was fine with her own company. After all, she was very used to it.

Her missionary parents, wonderful and loving and warm as they were, gave most of their energy away to the people they helped. Her sister, Michelle, had chosen a similar path, working as a traveling midwife in Europe.

Faith used to resent how much they gave to everyone but their own family, and yet here she sat, not doing things so very differently.

Yeah, well … if once in a while she let loneliness for family, or even a close, personal relationship encroach, she could deal with that. She'd chosen this life, and chosen it readily. Willingly. It was what she wanted.

Though what she wanted right now was to be horizontal. All she had to do was prioritize the bills for tonight and she could hit the sack. It'd been a good, solid day, and she felt happy and content with all they'd accomplished, but she could admit she was looking forward to stripping down and crawling between her fuzzy sheets. Oblivion, that's what she needed. Just six hours would do it, would beat back the viral infection she could feel at the far edges of her mind, trying as always to creep in and take hold.

She wouldn't let it. Not this time.

She had too much to do.

It was quiet downstairs. Her staff had all gone long ago. She hadn't seen Luke go, but assumed he hadn't been able to get out of there fast enough.

She'd just separated all the invoices when she heard a noise from below, a soft thud. Though she wasn't a fearful sort, she wasn't stupid. They did have supplies here, and despite Luke's mocking, they had some drugs as well. Grabbing the portable phone—with her finger on the 9-1-1 autodial—and her handy dandy baseball bat over her shoulder, she went down the stairs.

The staff room was still lit, so someone hadn't left yet. As she stood there, Luke came out of the rest room, washing his hands.

"You're still here," she said inanely.

"Just leaving." In a startlingly intimate gesture, he shifted his weight closer to hers and lifted her chin. "You have circles beneath your eyes."

"I … do?"

"You look beat to shit."

"Well, why don't you just say whatever is on your mind?" She let out an embarrassed little laugh and tried to turn away but he held her still for his inspection.

"All right. You look tired. You're not taking good enough care of yourself."

"I am so. I eat right, and I look after myself religiously."

"Yeah?" Still touching her face, his thumb slid over her skin.

Hit with a myriad of sensations from just his touch, she froze. He froze, too, all except his thumb, which went on another lazy circle. Eyes on hers, he shifted even closer.

"This," she said shakily, "is a bad idea."

"No doubt." But he gently slid his fingers into her hair and bent closer.

She leaned into him. "We should be running for the hills."

"Again, no doubt." His mouth was only a breath away. His eyes, clear and bold, never left hers.

And yet it was she who rose up on tiptoe and went to meet him halfway. Their lips met, clung for one long glorious instant before they both pulled back.

Stared at each other.

Let out two mutually shocked breaths.

At the sudden knock on the back door, Faith jumped.

"Expecting someone?" he asked.

She hadn't been expecting him. When she shook her head, he moved to the door and looked through the peephole. With a sudden oath, he pulled back and hauled open the door, grabbing a woman on the back step cradling her hand to her chest.

Faith recognized Luke's cleaning lady from when she'd gone to his house the week before.

"What happened?" he demanded.