Mending the Doctor's Heart

by Tina Radcliffe

  She shook her head. “No, but I imagine we could borrow some folding tables from the hospital.”

  “Good idea. Want to call your uncle?”

  “He should be here soon.” She looked him up and down. “So you’re feeling okay?”

  “Yeah.” He rotated his arm. “I might have overdone it doing yard work, but the last time I checked, both the incision and my yard looked really good.”

  “I wasn’t talking about your arm, or your yard. You seemed awfully pale yesterday at orientation, and then you disappeared after the tour.”

  “Something I ate maybe? Anyhow, I’m fine now.” He sniffed the air. “Do I smell coffee?”

  “Follow me.” Sara picked up her cup and led him into a small kitchenette, where she pulled open a cupboard. “The drug reps have been here already. You can have your choice. Check out the black-and-gold anti-fungal mug. Then there’s the friendly ‘statin of the month’ cup. Or...” She waved a hand in the air like a game show hostess. “The amazing stainless-steel benzodiazepine travel mug.”

  “Decisions, decisions.” Ben grabbed the travel mug and turned. “Whoa. That’s a lot of pastries.”

  “No kidding,” Sara said.

  He reached for the carafe of coffee. “You brought four boxes of pastries on your bike?”

  “They were delivered from Patti Jo’s. Know anything about that?”

  “Who me?” His gaze met hers, and suddenly the penny dropped into the slot. “The Carters?”

  “Bingo.”

  He shrugged. “I’m sure the contractors will be very happy. Oh, and I can recommend the pecan praline muffins.”

  “Ditto. I’ve already had one. Better carb up yourself. You’re going to need the energy. We’ve got a lot of resumes and CVs to go through.”

  “Oh?” He followed her back to the office.

  Sara retrieved two stacks of folders from the piles on the floor. “Pick one.”

  “What am I picking?”

  “Staff you get to interview. Which brings us back to the topic of physicians. I’m praying we can bring two physicians on board well before September, but I don’t have a clue how to attract them to a position with a non-competitive salary in the middle of, well...” She laughed. “Paradise.”

  He raised his brows at her pun and grabbed the left pile to begin reviewing the tabs. “You and I were interested in relocating to Paradise.”

  “We aren’t the norm.”

  Their eyes met, and Ben released a small chuckle.

  “You know what I mean,” Sara returned.

  “I do, and that’s a little scary.”

  She smiled. “Anyhow, I’m hoping we can get through all these files by Friday. Think you can do it?”

  “You like to keep everything competitive, don’t you?” Ben commented.

  “Absolutely,” she agreed. “But usually I only have myself to compete with. I have to admit that this is much more fun.”

  Ben nearly laughed aloud.

  “Oh, and did you look at the purchasing plan they gave us?” she asked.

  “Yeah, last night. That plus the policy-and-procedure manual from the hospital put me right to sleep.”

  “I think that was the goal.” She grinned.

  “Genius.” He nodded and sipped his coffee.

  “Apparently someone from the hospital is coming over to look at the exam rooms and order big-ticket items along with the large inventory, including computers and printers. We’ll just have to review their purchase order.”

  “Okay, and what about office supplies and paper products, forms and vendors?” Ben asked.

  “My thought was that if we hire an office manager right away, we get out of counting paper clips.”

  Ben gave her a thumbs-up. “Let’s do it.”

  “Take a look at the top file. She’s my choice.”

  “Mind if I pull up a spot on the floor with you?” he asked.

  “Be my guest.”

  They worked quietly in comfortable silence for over an hour until Sara’s phone began to buzz in her briefcase. “Would you excuse me?”

  “Sure.”

  When she left the room, Ben stood and stretched his legs. Grabbing his coffee, he wandered down the hall past the front desk to the other hallway. Turning right, he discovered another door that opened to a large yard. Concrete walkways had been poured and the soil turned over, but that’s where the landscaping ended. No trees or plants of any kind. Nothing but six-foot-tall cedar fencing.

  The sun was just above the tree line, and he could see clear to the snowcapped mountains. He stared, mesmerized by the beautiful scenery before him. Every day it seemed there was something that caused him to pause and consider that God had touched the tiny town of Paradise.

  “Spectacular view, isn’t it?”

  Ben turned to see the hospital medical director behind him, approaching in his wheelchair.

  “Dr. Rhoades. Good morning, sir. What is this place?”

  “This is supposed to be the clinic gardens. I envisioned an area for meditation with a reflection pond, maybe a fountain and a small gazebo. I hoped we could use the area for receptions, possibly even weddings. But unfortunately, the funding isn’t there. So it may just end up as a patch of grass.”

  “A patch of grass with an amazing view.”

  Henry smiled. “Yes. That it is.” He turned, and his probing eyes assessed Ben. “Are you feeling all right? Keeping hydrated? I thought you might have a bit of altitude sickness yesterday during our hospital tour.”

  “I’m feeling fine, sir. Thanks for asking.”

  Henry nodded thoughtfully. “So, have you seen the chapel?”

  “No, sir, I haven’t.”

  “You went out the wrong door. Follow me.”

  Ben walked behind the wheelchair, across a stamped cement patio to a set of double doors. Dr. Rhoades pressed the automatic button, and the doors slowly and silently swung open. They moved inside the building to a dark room.

  “On the wall to your left. Hit that light switch.”

  Ben did, and the room came alive.

  An organ took up most of the front, then rows of polished oak pews filled the rest of the room. A single wooden cross adorned the wall in the small sanctuary illuminated by soft recessed lighting.

  Henry gestured with his hands. “The wood in that paneling and those benches is from local trees. See that marble in the sanctuary altar? From Marble, Colorado. It’s the same white marble that’s used for the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier in Washington, D.C. The slab was given to us by a hospital patron.”

  For a long moment, both men were silent.

  “I feel the Lord’s presence in this room already,” the older man said.

  “Yes.” Ben nodded. Dr. Rhoades was right; there was something tranquil and comforting about the room.

  “I wanted a place that would honor the Lord because He planted the seed for the clinic in my sister’s heart.”

  “I admire you, Dr. Rhoades. You’ve turned an unfortunate incident into a positive one, and are making a difference because of it.”

  Henry narrowed his eyes. “Is that how it appears?”

  Ben opened his mouth and closed it, not sure what the correct response would be, but feeling fairly confident he’d already said the wrong thing.

  “Your words are very generous, son, but if you’re going to be a part of the clinic’s future, you must understand the vision.”

  Ben swallowed.

  “The residents of this area, as well as our transient tourist population, have long needed a responsive medical facility. Not just any clinic, but one staffed with medical personnel who are willing to go to them when they can’t come to us.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “That was my
sister’s dream. It was only too ironic that she died because medical help couldn’t reach her.”

  Ben nodded slowly.

  “What I want from a director is someone who can not only do the job, but understands the community we are serving and is willing to think outside the box to get the job done and meet those needs. Someone who will do everything in his power for Paradise.”

  Ben cleared his throat. “Sir, have I offended you?”

  “No.” Henry Rhoades shook his head and pressed his lips together, pausing for a moment. “Forgive me, but you gave me a reality check, son. I’ve been so excited about the clinic that I think I forgot what really matters.”

  He wheeled his chair around, glancing at the room as he moved. “The clinic is not a trophy, or a monument to anything we’ve done. In fact, it’s not about you or me or Sara or Hollis.” His gaze focused upon the wooden cross. “It’s about the vision the Lord gave my sister. I’ve got to trust that somehow, that vision will be fulfilled completely.” He looked at Ben. “Our job is simply to do His will.”

  * * *

  “Ben?” Sara rounded the corner, looking for him.

  His hands reached for her shoulders before they collided.

  “Sorry,” she mumbled, moving out of his arms. Pink flooded her face, and she glanced away for a moment. “I was just looking for you. Did you get lost?”

  “Had to stretch my legs. Sitting on the floor isn’t as easy as it used to be.” When he looked at her, he knew something was wrong. The bright green eyes were now dark with worry.

  “What’s up?” he asked.

  She seemed to struggle with a response, finally taking a deep breath before her words came out in a rush. “The Boulder Clinic called.”

  “Your previous job.”

  “Technically, I’m still employed there.”

  “Oh?” Startled, he turned to look at her again as they headed down the corridor of offices. “I didn’t realize.”

  “Yes, and to further complicate things, I was just offered the director position.”

  Ben narrowed his eyes. “And you’re telling me this because...?”

  Sara stopped in the middle of the hall. Hands on her hips, she huffed. “Because we’re working together, and I want to be upfront with you.”

  “Hey, no need to get annoyed. I’m just asking.”

  “I’m not annoyed.”

  “Right.”

  She clenched and unclenched her hands. “I am not annoyed. I’m confused. I get cranky when I’m confused.”

  “I’ll try not to confuse you,” Ben murmured.

  “Thank you.”

  “So what are you going to tell them?”

  “I don’t know,” she groaned. “They’ve given me until the end of August to decide. Then they turn it over to the head hunters.”

  “So you’ve got your foot in the door to both clinics? Sort of a safety net?” Ben shook his head and headed to the kitchen. Sara was right behind him.

  “It sounds terrible when you say it like that.”

  He looked at her, but said nothing as he poured coffee into his cup.

  “Look, I love Paradise, but I’m just not sure I can handle my father. It’s a double-edged sword. I’d like to stay. He’s not well. But he continues to interfere in my life, and my career. The funny thing is, I’m pretty sure he thinks this doctor thing is a phase, and I’ll come to my senses and take an interest in running the ranch.” She sighed, and her eyes continued to plead with him for an answer.

  “You know,” Ben said, “when I have tough decisions to make, I have a plan for strategizing.”

  “Oh?”

  He nodded. “I take a legal pad and write down the pros and cons in two separate columns. Then tear the paper off, throw it in the trash and go pray.”

  Sara paused, then blinked. Her lips curved into a smile, and she started to laugh.

  “Hey, I was serious,” he said.

  “I know. The irony of the situation is that I just handed you the opportunity to push me out the door to Boulder,” Sara responded.

  Ben frowned.

  “And you didn’t.”

  “What was I thinking?” Ben raised a palm.

  When she looked up at him, green eyes earnest, Ben fought the urge to smooth a tangled tendril of dark hair that had fallen across her cheek. He paused. It was the first time he’d seen her vulnerable, and he found himself wanting to make things all better.

  Crazy. He’d known her less than a week. She was right—he should be pushing her out the door to Boulder. The woman was dangerous to the very peace he was searching for.

  “Look, Sara, in the end you just have to do what’s right for you. I’m thinking you already know that.” He sipped his coffee.

  “I’m also concerned that you haven’t tried to psychoanalyze me and blame it all on my relationship with my father.”

  He couldn’t resist a grin.

  She sighed and kept talking, not waiting for a response. “Well, this isn’t going to be easy. There are a lot of great things about Boulder.”

  “Such as?”

  “There’s the free clinic. I helped launch the program. They said it couldn’t be done, but we did it. It’s been an incredible community outreach.”

  “You did it once. You could do it again here in Paradise.”

  “It’s taken years to get funding for this clinic alone. What makes you think I can get pledges for funding to support free medical care?”

  “This clinic didn’t have you in the equation until now.”

  Her eyes widened, and she smiled. “Good answer.”

  “I meant it. And I was just talking to your uncle. He said we should think outside the box. In fact, he really challenged me to consider exactly what this community needs from this clinic.”

  “It’s all in the paperwork,” Sara said.

  “Seeing it on paper isn’t the same as seeing it with my eyes. How can I understand what the community needs if I don’t even know the community?”

  “Road trip,” Sara announced, her voice enthusiastic. “How about a little tour of the valley and the foothills?”

  Ben nodded. “That would be great.”

  Sara’s eyes sparkled. “Do you have plans for Saturday?”

  “Saturday works for me.”

  “Your car or mine?” he asked.

  “Yours. My Jeep is a little pedestrian for your tastes.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Sorry. Sorry.” She raised her hands. I’m trying very hard not to judge the doctor by the price of his stethoscope.”

  “My stethoscope?” Ben choked out the words.

  “I couldn’t help but notice that you have one of those high-end, five-hundred-dollar electronic Littmanns. I bet you can hear crepitus in the next room with that thing.”

  “Jealous?” He laughed.

  “You bet I am,” Sara said.

  “It was a graduation present from my sister.”

  “Nice sister.”

  “Finally, something we can agree on.” He cocked his head and looked at her. “Are you aware that while you are the daughter of the richest man in the area, you’ve got some kind of prejudice against rich people?”

  “Do I?” She frowned, her brow wrinkling in thought. “I don’t think anyone’s ever pointed that out to me before.”

  “They don’t dare. Your father is the Cattle King of Paradise Valley.”

  “I’ll take your interesting diagnosis under consideration, but I’d like to point out that you’ve got some overcompensation issues going on yourself, Doctor.”

  Ben couldn’t resist laughing. “So I’ll drive tomorrow?”

  “What is it you drive, anyhow?”

  “Land Rover,” he mumbled. />
  “You aren’t serious?” She shook her head.

  “What?”

  “That would be the same vehicle the Cattle King of Paradise Valley drives. I can’t believe I didn’t notice it the other night.”

  “What can I say? Your father has good taste.” He shrugged. “So I’m still driving?”

  Sara shook her head. “If you insist.”

  Ben smiled. Sara Elliott was challenging, interesting and frustrating. It seemed she could never be boring. Sara was fun, and he hadn’t felt this good in a very long time.

  Chapter Six

  It was just before eight when Ben drove the Land Rover into the parking lot of the clinic. Naturally Sara was already there and waiting. He shook his head. Somehow she’d managed to beat him to the clinic every day this week, and leave after he did. Oh yeah, Sara was definitely giving him a run for his money. She was bringing out his old competitive edge, and he wasn’t sure yet if that was a good thing.

  She sat on the hood of her car in cargo pants, a red pullover and hiking books, her hair in a low ponytail. He chuckled. Sara didn’t look anything like his starchy colleagues back in Denver. Although she was definitely easier on the eyes, his life would probably be a lot simpler if she didn’t look so cute.

  “Good morning.” Sara shot him a grin and hopped off the car, her ponytail flipping into the air with the action. She reached into the backseat of her ancient Jeep and tugged until finally a very large, canvas duffel bag popped out, propelling her backwards.

  Ben leaped forward and grabbed her wrist, pulling her upright inches before her backside hit the pavement. “You brought your suitcase?” he asked.

  “Supplies.” She glanced at his hand, which still held her by the wrist, and smiled. “Thank you.”

  Ben let go, with the odd realization that this was the second time he’d caught Sara before she fell, and he really liked holding on to her. “No problem,” he murmured.

  “I’ve learned never to spend the day driving through the valley and the mountains without being prepared.”

  Groaning, he heaved up the duffel and headed to his car. “This thing weighs a ton. What did you pack?”

  “The usual. Water. Granola bars. Sunscreen. Road flares. Flashlight. Plastic trash bags. A compass. First-aid kit. Matches. Duct tape. Oh, and a coat, and a change of clothes.”