Mending the Doctor's Heart

by Tina Radcliffe

  “They fired your father? Okay, I don’t think I’ve fired a patient yet.”

  “I feel fortunate that neither have I.” She gave an impatient nod of agreement. “So here’s where we stand. The cardiologist has signed off his case and turned his care back over to his primary-care physician, who has too many compliant patients to deal with one who so flagrantly is not.”

  Ben blinked. He’d had his share of difficult patients himself, but it seemed Hollis was setting the bar higher. “Okay,” he said. “So what are you going to do?”

  “I guess I’ll call my uncle and see if he has any suggestions—and then I better step up the prayers.”

  “Good idea. When in doubt, ask Henry and God.”

  They shared a laugh. Sara glanced around the room, and Ben followed the direction of her gaze.

  The kitchen was starting to show signs of life since the new office staff had been hired, from the plant on the table to the cheery framed prints on the wall. “What did I miss around here yesterday?” she asked.

  “Not much,” Ben said. “They striped the parking lot and gave us our own spaces.”

  Sara glanced out the window at the view of the parking lot. “I’ve been meaning to ask you where your Land Rover is,” Sara said.

  “It’s not out there?”

  She frowned. “You know it isn’t.”

  Ben took a sip of coffee as he considered how to change the subject. He swallowed. “Did I mention that we lost the bids for those primary-care docs?”

  “What? Not both of them? We open in three weeks! We can’t open without doctors.”

  “I don’t understand why we’re getting such a poor response to the package we offer,” Ben said.

  “Apparently, the appeal of year-round altitude sickness, a population of seventeen hundred and nineteen, and a stunning low-end base salary isn’t enough to dazzle the big-city doctors. Who would have thought?”

  “What are you talking about? I think this is a great place to practice medicine,” he said.

  “But you aren’t the norm,” Sara returned.

  “I’m sure you meant that as a compliment.”

  “I meant you and I have a heart for Paradise,” she said. “Finding physicians who feel the same way isn’t going to be easy.”

  Ben nodded.

  “Ask your father about the stats on this,” Sara said. “He’ll agree that recruitment and retention of physicians for rural medicine is a constant struggle. Most physicians want to work in a setting that offers more perks, including time off. Rural medicine practitioners have a higher rate of burnout because of this. It’s a vicious cycle.”

  “So what did the head hunter recommend?” Ben asked.

  “The impossible. Going to the board and asking for more money.” She sank into a chair. “That isn’t going to happen.”

  “Cheer up. If worse comes to worst, you and I will run the show,” he said.

  “Well, I can’t say I’d really mind,” Sara said with a lift of her shoulder. “I told you I miss direct patient care.”

  Ben shook his head. “You’re in Paradise competing with me for a position you’re ambivalent about, and yet you’re willing to change your entire life to do what you don’t want to do.” He pinned her with a direct gaze. “Do I have that correct?”

  “My father is sick. I can’t disappoint him now. That’s the bottom line.” She got up and started down the hall.

  “This is crazy,” Ben said, trailing after her. “It’s your life.”

  “I can’t talk about this anymore, Ben.” She glanced at the lobby, stopping so suddenly he nearly ran into her.

  “Whoa, careful.”

  “Bitsy Harmony is in the lobby. Do you want to hide?”

  “No, it’s okay. She’s, ah, helping me with some planting.”

  “You have Bitsy Harmony planting for you?” Sara tapped the side of her head with her palm. “I think I’m having some auditory impairment. I thought I heard you say...”

  “Yeah, I did say that. Look, you said they needed a project, and I was getting tired of planning my entire life around hiding from the Ladies’ Auxiliary. So I decided to be proactive.”

  Sara looked at him like he was a foreign object. “Proactive? Ben, you’re an amazing guy.”

  “Thanks.” So why did he feel like he’d just told a fib? He hadn’t lied. Bitsy was doing planting for him. Just not at his house.

  “I have only one question,” Sara said.

  “What’s that?”

  “How does she carry those geraniums and petunias on her Harley?”

  “You’re just full of sass this morning,” Ben said, giving her a slow stare.

  She smiled sweetly. “You seem to bring out the best in me.”

  Ben shook his head. “No. I think I just bring out the real Sara in you, and to tell you the truth, I like her.”

  She looked up at him. “So does that mean you and I are okay?” she asked.

  Relieved to hear her words, Ben released a breath. “Sara, we’re fine. I don’t want to lose your friendship. I’m sorry if I overstepped on Saturday.”

  “You didn’t. I just... I guess I’m just not ready.”

  “That’s okay.” He smiled. “But maybe you could let me know when you are.”

  Her face turned pink as she nodded.

  “I better go see my gardener,” Ben said.

  Sara’s laughter followed him as he jogged out to the lobby.

  “Bitsy.”

  “Dr. Rogers, we have a problem,” Bitsy said. She clutched her purse and tote bag to her side.

  He gently took her elbow and led her to the conference room.

  “I only have a few minutes,” she said. “I have to get back to the sheriff’s office before he makes another cup of caffeinated mud without permission.”

  Ben opened his mouth and then closed it. He had learned right away that when interacting with the Paradise Ladies’ Auxiliary, it was good protocol not to ask questions if you really didn’t want to know the answers. Instead he tried to keep them focused at all times.

  “What sort of problem?” he finally asked.

  “Hollis Elliott showed up on Saturday.”

  “In the chapel garden?”

  “Yep. I was spreading mulch and suddenly there he was, big as life with that Stetson on his head, and blowing steam like an out-of-control train.”

  “What exactly did he say?”

  “He said he wasn’t going to spend any more of his money on a garden if his daughter wasn’t going to be clinical director.”

  “Bitsy, Hollis isn’t paying for the garden.”

  She frowned. “He’s not?”

  “No, and I’m sorry he bothered you. Trust me, I’ll take care of the situation. Immediately.”

  “I don’t know if you can, Dr. Rogers,” she said with a shake of her head. “He was pretty bossy, throwing around threats like they were pennies in a fountain.”

  “I can and will handle Hollis Elliott.”

  “Dr. Rogers, if you don’t mind my asking, exactly who is funding the garden?”

  Ben shoved his hands into his pockets. “Well Bitsy, the truth is, I am.”

  Bitsy’s blue eyes crinkled at the corners, and a smile slowly spread across her face.

  “You’ll keep that information under your bun, right?”

  She touched her hand to the knot at the top of her head. “I surely will. But I can hardly believe you got one over on Hollis, and he doesn’t even know it.”

  Ben fought back a laugh. “That’s okay. He doesn’t need to know everything.”

  “You’re so right, Dr. Rogers. You are so right.”

  “So how is the garden coming along?” he asked.

  “We’re right on
schedule. The gazebo will be painted on Saturday.” She released a wistful sigh. “Oh, it’s just beautiful. The perfect place for a wedding.”

  “Did the benches arrive yet?”

  “Not yet.”

  “I’ll call and check on them.”

  “What about the problems with the sprinkler?”

  “All fixed. Now we’re waiting for Orvis’s nephew to hook up the bubbler on the pond and finish the electric connection on the fountain.”

  “That’s just great. Good thing Orvis has a big family. Electricians, plumbers and carpenters. I really owe him, big time.”

  “You know Orvis is just saying thank you because you saved his life. That man has a lot to live for. So don’t worry about paybacks. Just let him help you.”

  Ben nodded, realizing Bitsy was right. Orvis Carter could teach Hollis Elliott a thing or two about being grateful for the blessings the Lord gives, and appreciating each day.

  “When do we get to tell everyone about the garden?” she asked.

  “Open house and the grand opening are less than three weeks away. I can hardly believe how fast time has passed.”

  “It tends to do that when you’ve got your heart and your hands working in the right place,” she said.

  “I guess so.”

  Bitsy nodded and picked up her purse and tote from the table. “You’re getting your roots deep into this town, Dr. Rogers. Hope you don’t have plans to move anytime soon. You might find you can’t.”

  “No worries, Bitsy. I want to stick around Paradise. At least through September.”

  “Longer, I hope. You’re good for this town.”

  “This town is good for me,” he murmured.

  As Bitsy walked away, Ben found that he actually believed those words, now more than ever.

  Chapter Fourteen

  “Mr. Elliott, thanks for seeing me on such short notice.”

  “Have a seat.” His voice boomed out with a hard edge.

  Ben sat, but he kept his eye on the rancher who sat behind the large desk. Sara was right. Something was more than just a little off with her father. Hollis’s physical deterioration was obvious.

  There was a notable unhealthy pallor to his face, and Ben detected a slight shortness of breath and wheezing when he spoke. Ben glanced quickly at Hollis’s hands folded on the desk. Dusky nail beds. The man was in congestive heart failure.

  Ben regrouped. This wasn’t the time for a strong defense. He needed to keep Hollis calm, and perhaps he could reason with him.

  “Sir, I understand you stopped by the chapel garden on Saturday?”

  “What of it? I want to see the hole my money is being buried in.”

  “Mr. Elliott, not a penny of your money has been used for the memorial chapel.”

  Hollis’s eyes narrowed to glittering slits as he leaned forward like a hawk about to attack. There was no mercy in his face. “You’re lying. You asked for my permission.”

  Ben swallowed the retaliatory response that rose up in his throat. He’d keep calm, and maybe Hollis would, as well. “Sir, I asked your permission to name the memorial garden after your wife. I didn’t solicit funds.”

  There was a long pause, and the man behind the desk appeared confused. “How are you paying for the landscaping?”

  “I’m funding the garden project.”

  “You?” Hollis slowly shook his head. “I want you to know I’ve earned every one of these gray hairs on my head. I’m no fool.”

  Confused, Ben looked at Hollis Elliott.

  “Nobody does anything unless he stands to gain something from the effort.”

  “I don’t agree, sir.” Ben said. “Your wife is the perfect example.”

  Hollis’s eyes widened a fraction in stunned surprise at the quick rebuttal.

  “Amanda Rhoades-Elliott was known for her altruism and dedication. She inspired my own parents.”

  The kind words bounced off Hollis Elliott. He didn’t want to hear them. It was obvious he was looking for a fight. Ben refused to satisfy him.

  “Why are you here, Dr. Rogers?”

  “To kindly ask you not to harass the Ladies’ Auxiliary. They’re working on the garden with no compensation, and I don’t want them to feel threatened.”

  “Hollis Elliott doesn’t harass.”

  “Good, then we agree.” He stood to leave.

  “What exactly is your interest in Sara?”

  Ben turned back, surprised. “Excuse me?”

  “You heard me. I don’t want you leading her on for your own professional gain.”

  Hollis Elliott was baiting him. Ben paused and took a deep, steadying breath against the slanderous remark.

  Choose your words carefully.

  “Sir, I’m not in the habit of discussing my personal affairs with others.”

  “Others? I’m her father, and I won’t have her career or her emotions jeopardized.”

  “I can assure you that I, too, have Sara’s best interests in mind. I have no intention of jeopardizing her career or her feelings. I’ve been totally upfront with her about my goals here in Paradise.”

  “You can assure me?” Hollis shook his head as if mocking him. “What happens when the director is chosen?”

  “Sara and I will deal with that in September.”

  “I won’t let her get hurt again. She’ll leave Paradise if that happens.”

  In that moment, the man across from him seemed less formidable. Ben saw Hollis Elliott as simply a father, afraid of losing his only child.

  “I care a great deal about Sara. You have my word that I won’t intentionally hurt her.”

  “If you cared about Sara, then you’d withdraw your interest in the clinical director job.”

  Stunned that he was resorting to putting him in this position, Ben clenched his jaw. “Sir, you mentioned being upfront. I wonder if you’ve been upfront with your daughter?”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Hollis returned.

  “I’m talking about your health. You’ve refused a pacemaker, and you’ve been noncompliant with your medication,” Ben said.

  “I don’t need any fool electronic gadget put inside of me.”

  “That’s not what your daughter tells me.”

  “Did she also tell you that I like people to stay out of my business?”

  “Sir, your daughter is very concerned about your health.”

  Hollis paused, once again his sharp eyes assessing. “You look like a man of your word, Dr. Rogers.”

  “Always.”

  “Then I’ll offer you this. I’ll comply with my medical regime if you withdraw from the director position.”

  Ben froze. “You can’t be serious.”

  “Oh, I’m more than serious. I’d bet my life I’m very serious.”

  Ben was silent. Lord give me the words. Show me what to do.

  “Do you know what it’s like to lose someone you love?” Hollis said the words quietly.

  “Yes, sir. I do.”

  “Then you know that sometimes you do whatever you deem necessary to hold on to what you have left.”

  Suddenly the door to Hollis Elliott’s study burst open.

  * * *

  “What’s going on?” Sara asked, looking from Ben to her father, searching for a clue to the tension that filled the room.

  “Just talking business with your father,” Ben said.

  “Business? What sort of business?” If she sounded frantic, it was because that was exactly how she felt right now. This was the second time Ben and her father were meeting without her knowledge. What business could the two of them possibly have to discuss, and without her? The possibility terrified her.

  “I was encouraging your
father to get the pacemaker.”

  “What?” She pushed her hair back from her face and stared at Ben. “Why would you do that? I shared that information with you in confidence.”

  “You and I can talk later, Sara. Right now, I think I should leave.”

  “Make sure you think long and hard on what we discussed, Dr. Rogers.”

  “Oh, I will, sir. You can bet I will.”

  The conversation between the two men swirled around her, yet she still stood in the dark and more confused than ever.

  Sara followed Ben to the front porch, barely keeping up with his long strides. “Ben? Are you seriously leaving without explaining what’s going on?” she asked.

  “I have to go.”

  His voice was flat, and he wouldn’t look at her. Suddenly Sara was very frightened. Something was wrong. Very wrong. The private, detached Ben who had arrived in Paradise weeks ago, hurting, she understood. This indifference she couldn’t reach.

  “No, Ben. Don’t go. I want to know exactly what you two were discussing.”

  “I told you. Your father’s medical condition.”

  “How could you break my confidence, and to my father. My father of all people?”

  Finally he met her gaze, and she saw the emotion he tried to hide. “I did it because I care about you.”

  He opened his car door.

  Confused, she looked at the compact car and then at Ben. “Where’s your Land Rover?”

  “Does it really matter?”

  “Ben,” she pleaded. “Don’t go. We have to talk about this.”

  “Talk to your father. I’m sure he can answer any concerns you have.”

  Concerns? She had much more than concerns warring in her mind and spirit right now. She leaned against a porch pillar and watched the car until it disappeared from view. Had she learned anything in two years? This time she wasn’t just going to let things happen.

  She was the daughter of Amanda Rhoades-Elliott, and this time around she was going to fight for what she wanted.

  * * *

  Ben sat in his backyard with a tall glass of water. Mutt sat next to him. “So how’d you like to see Denver, Mutt?”