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shirt and boots. Even now, the top two buttons on his jeans had been left undone. Hope, concerned only for her son, was not about to point out that omission to Chase as he pulled on a soft rumpled navy work shirt and began to button it over the broad expanse of his suntanned chest.
    Hope turned her gaze up to Chase’s face, wishing he weren’t here to witness this. “Joey got in a fight,” she reported in a highly emotional voice.
    Joey rolled his eyes. Too late Hope realized, as evidently did Chase, that smothering concern was not what her son needed or wanted at this moment. Looking as unperturbed as she was upset, Chase grinned at Joey, then shook his head in silent remonstration. Bracing a shoulder against the wall, he asked laconically, with the overt nonchalance only another man could feel at a time like this, “Well, did you lose or win?”
    Surprised and pleased by Chase’s more understanding reaction to his troubles, Joey had to think about that. “It was a tie, I guess, since one of the twins ended up with a split lip.”
    Hope whirled on Chase, exasperated. She fixed him with a quelling look he just as deliberately ignored. She realized she had signed up for the misadventure of her life by permitting him to stay. She would have to really work to see he didn’t get the upper hand with her or negatively influence her son into adapting his renegade ways. “Chase!” Hope scolded. That he would encourage this kind of macho behavior with her son incensed her. She had wanted him to do the exact opposite. Otherwise, she never would have let Carmelita run to get him.
    Chase paused only to give her a look that indicated she was supposed to let him handle this, his way. Whether that was because he was a physician or Joey’s brother, she didn’t know. Chase gave Hope another I-know-what-I’m-doing look, put a hand on Joey’sshoulder and propelled him in the direction of the guest bath that was tucked under the stairs. “Let’s get you in here and washed up a bit. Carmelita,” he instructed kindly, knowing how anxious Hope’s live-in housekeeper was to be helpful, “we could do with an ice pack if you’ve got one.”
    â€œYes, sir, Mr. Chase.” Carmelita scurried off to do his bidding.
    Chase ignored Hope and their close proximity to each other in the tiny room. He settled his young patient on the closed seat of the commode, then raided the medicine cabinet for supplies, taking out bandages, antiseptic wipes and antibiotic cream.
    Hope wanted to be in the room but she didn’t want to be in the way, so she moved back as far as she could go. She found herself braced against the far wall, with her hip wedged against the sink. Chase’s shoulder was within a hair’s breadth of hers. Maybe I should have stayed in the doorway, she thought, but it was too late. Chase’s body was already blocking the only way out. She had no choice but to stay where she was and suffer through their enforced closeness silently.
    Watching Chase gently examine Joey’s scrapes and bruises was adequate distraction, however. She observed with uncharacteristic helplessness; prior to this she had always been the one who bandaged Joey after a mishap. She was struck by not only Chase’s gentleness and physician’s expertise, but also by his innate talent for dealing with kids, period. Chase was a very good doctor, she admitted grudgingly, but his ability to handle young patients didn’t exactly jibe with his irresponsible, nomadic life-style. Did he miss having kids himself? she wondered absently as Chase took a closer look at a long, rather nasty-looking scrape under Joey’s chin. He seemed to find it nothing to worry about and only cleaned it without comment. Would Chase have kids now if his engagement to Lucy had worked out? Chase was so closemouthed about his private life; no one knew why his engagement to Lucy had ended. Certainly