The Homecoming

by Robyn Carr

  “I worked for a cardiologist. I was there for three years. Very busy practice. I was hoping for something a little quieter for a while.”

  Devon didn’t speak right away. Then she said, “So, you’re not just passing through.”

  “Well, I could have been. I haven’t officially started looking for my next job yet. I haven’t sent out any résumés yet.”

  “Why did you leave your former practice?”

  “I was replaced, but I promise you my recommendation will be excellent,” she said. “Maybe you could give my résumé to Dr. Grant, and if he’s interested, my cell phone number and email address are right there,” she said, pointing.

  “I’ll do just that,” Devon said. “Miss Sneaky Britches.”

  Peyton laughed. “Please don’t be offended, Devon. I wasn’t going to leave a résumé if something about the town or the clinic or the doctor didn’t feel right.”

  “You haven’t met the doctor.”

  “But you love him,” Peyton said. “Even your fiancé loves him.”

  “Who loves me?” a man asked.

  Peyton looked up, and there, standing in the space that led into the back of the clinic, was a very attractive man in his late thirties. He was dressed in faded jeans and a yellow dress shirt, open at the collar, sleeves rolled up. Although he was clearly over thirty-five, he had a boyish quality to his good looks. But not to his physique—he was broad shouldered and had muscular arms and big hands. Even from where she stood, she could see a depth to his blue eyes.

  Devon looked over her shoulder. “Meet Dr. Scott Grant, who obviously just snuck in the back door.”

  He stepped forward. “Pleasure,” he said. “Miss Sneaky Britches, was it?”

  “Peyton Lacoumette,” she said, taking his hand. “I saw your ad. After getting to know Devon a little bit, I decided to drop off a résumé. I’m a physician’s assistant.”

  “Is that so?” he said, taking the page, glancing at it. “I’ve been interviewing.”

  “Well, give me a call if you think I suit,” she said. “I’m staying in Coos Bay for a little while—just taking a breather before summer is over.”

  Without looking up from her résumé, he asked, “Do you have time for a conversation now?”

  “I—I guess so,” she said. Then she laughed a little uncomfortably. “I didn’t expect... I didn’t dress for... Sure, I have time.”

  “Good,” he said. “Come on back.” And he turned that she might follow him.

  * * *

  Scott found himself staring down at the résumé for a long time, looking for flaws. He knew if he looked across the desk he’d see only perfection, and it unsettled him. She was only a job applicant, after all. She was very pretty, yes, but not the type he usually found himself giving a second look. His eyes were usually drawn to blondes, like his late wife. This woman had dark hair, dark eyes and a slightly olive complexion. Her hair was long and straight and looked like a sheet of silk. Italian? Mexican? Sicilian? Her eyes were large and her eyebrows curved in a perfect arch. She was trim—she obviously took care of herself. He noted her very nice collarbones. He almost laughed aloud. Collarbones, Scott? Really? He was afraid to look up. He might lean over the desk to look at her feet and ankles, not that he gave a shit about ankles. He hoped they were at least thick and weird-looking. But he knew they would not be.

  “Lacoumette,” he said. “Interesting name....”

  “It’s Basque. Originally from the south of France. Most of the Basque blood in my family is Spanish, but the name originated in the northern Basque country and has survived for generations. My parents are second-generation Americans. They have a farm near Portland.” She was quiet for a moment, then cleared her throat. “Do you have any questions about my résumé, Dr. Grant?” she asked.

  “You seem to have a lot of experience,” he said. “This is one of the most impressive résumés I’ve seen.”

  “Twelve years,” she said. “Two practices and two hospitals, plus a year at a small clinic in Bayonne, France.”

  “France?”

  “An old clinic right in the middle of Basque territory. I wanted to see where our people came from. I’m probably related to half of them.” And she smiled then, showing off a row of beautiful white teeth. She was stunning.

  “What do you prefer? The private practice or the hospital?”

  “For the hands-on work, the hospital wins. For compensation, I’ll take private practice every time.”

  With her experience, Scott knew she could very likely make more money than he did, in the right place. “Did you look around? This isn’t a rich practice.”

  “That isn’t why I dropped by,” she said. “Are you frowning?”

  Was he glaring at her? He shook himself. “I didn’t mean to do that, to be defensive,” he said. “It’s just that....” He took a breath. “Let me be frank. I started this clinic on a shoestring. I run it on a tight budget. Where salary is concerned, I doubt I could meet your demands.”

  She tilted her head and raised her eyebrows. “I don’t recall making any. Yet.”

  He realized he didn’t want her to walk out, yet he was sure he didn’t have what it would take to make her stay. He folded his hands on top of the résumé and smiled at her. “What brings you to Thunder Point?”

  “Just your ad,” she said.

  Glancing at the résumé again, he asked, “How did you see my ad in Portland? The search company?”

  “No,” she said with a laugh. “When I left my last job I decided to take my time looking for employment because I wasn’t completely sure where I wanted to be. Plus, I didn’t take much time off in the past few years. So, I took a vacation. I spent a little time with my parents, then I drove down the coast, first to Canon Beach, then Coos Bay. I just happened to be looking through the employment section—I think it was the North Bend paper. I saw your ad and had never heard of Thunder Point. I was just curious. I thought in another couple of weeks I might contact an agency. I’m more comfortable in a big city. I didn’t expect this—a spontaneous interview in a little town. I was leaning toward San Francisco or Seattle....”

  “Ah,” he said. “You like the Pacific Northwest.”

  “I do, and I have family around. I was thinking it was time for a hospital,” she continued. “I was not interested in another practice right now—a little cozy, if you know what I mean. And I grew up in a tiny farming community and haven’t worked in a small town in years.”

  “There are certain advantages to a small town, a small clinic,” he said. “I came from a large city to a small town as an experiment, hoping I’d take to it. It’s cozy, all right—your friends are your patients and vice versa, but in the city the general practitioner is a good referral agency. In a place like Thunder Point we take care of a lot more. People aren’t equipped to travel long distances to see specialists. In many cases their medical coverage is spotty. They need a good local medical team.”

  “And that’s why you’re here, to provide a good medical service? As altruistic as that?” Peyton asked.

  “And because I thought it would be good for my kids. Also because the grandmothers, both widows, get a little invasive and high maintenance. I need them in smaller doses. So, that was my original motivation, but I like it here. Now, tell me why you would consider Thunder Point?”

  “It’s quiet,” she said. “It’s possible something like this could work for me for a while....”

  “Awhile?” he
asked.

  “If you offer me a job here and if I take the offer, I’ll make a commitment. And I’ll keep it.”

  “Why did you leave your last job?” he asked.

  “I was replaced,” she said. “The doctor wanted to put someone else in my position.”

  “When I call him, is that what he’ll tell me?”

  “I’m not sure. He felt we had accomplished as much as we could as a team, and it was time for a change. He’ll tell you my performance was excellent.”

  Scott thought about this for a second. “And that’s what you’re telling me?”

  “No. That’s what he’ll tell you.”

  “And is there another story?” Scott asked.

  “He’s dating an RN who convinced him she could do my job. I don’t know if that’s true, only time will tell. Apparently they just can’t get enough of each other. I suspect she didn’t appreciate my continued presence in the office after they’d become an item.”

  “A little jealousy?” he asked.

  “Or paranoia. I had no interest whatsoever in her boyfriend. That’s okay, it was time for a change. Let’s just clear the air on that, shall we? Before there’s a lot of curiosity and conjecture—I’m interested in work. And I’m not interested in men.”

  Well, that cleared the air, all right. He coughed lightly. “That’s very honest,” he said. “No beating around the bush there.” He smiled. “You’re very up front about personal things.”

  “I don’t mean to be rude—I hope that didn’t seem rude—I think it’s best if we’re honest about issues that could be problematic. It’s not something I feel like talking about, but...really, I don’t need the aggravation.”

  He smirked. “That will greatly disappoint the single men of Thunder Point,” he muttered.

  “Oh, please,” she said. “They’ll get over it.”

  “I suppose. Although not without a few...”

  “Few what?” she asked, frowning.

  He knew it would be unprofessional to say fantasies. “Regrets,” he said. “You’ll find the cost of living in this town is low.” He wrote down a number on a piece of paper and slid it toward her. “It would have to be a year at this salary.”

  She looked at it and gasped. “Is the cost of living free?”

  Scott stood behind his desk. “While you consider the offer, I’ll give Dr.—” he looked down “—Dr. Ramsdale a call.” He extended his hand. “Thanks for taking the time to talk with me about the position.”

  Peyton stood and shook his offered hand. “Sure. I think this meeting was unexpected for both of us.”

  “It certainly was. By the way, how are you with children?”

  She stiffened as if offended. “I’m the oldest of eight and consider myself to be good with kids, though I’m in no way interested in taking on child-care duties. How is that relevant to the position?”

  He laughed softly and put his hands in his pockets. “It’s a small town, and the people who seem to get hurt or sick the most often are the children and the elderly.”

  Her face relaxed. “Oh. Right. Of course. I knew that.”

  Scott followed Peyton to the reception area and stood by while Peyton chatted briefly with Devon. They acted like girlfriends, thanking each other for the time, saying they’d see each other again. Scott wondered what was going through Peyton’s mind. Maybe she was attracted to Devon? No...he wasn’t getting that vibe. It was just that Peyton was more comfortable with Devon than she had been with him. He watched as Peyton left and climbed into the luxury car that sat right in front of the clinic.

  “Wow, that’s some car,” Devon said.

  “Uh-huh. I hope she’s not making payments on it.”

  “Why?”

  “Because on the salary I offered her, she’d have trouble. That’s an LS 600. Starts at over a hundred grand.”

  Devon shot him a startled look. “Do you think she’ll take the job?”

  “Not a chance in hell,” he said. Then he turned and went back to his office.

  Copyright © 2014 by Robyn Carr

  ISBN-13: 9781460338391

  THE HOMECOMING

  Copyright © 2014 by Robyn Carr

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