by Cate Beauman
She rubbed at her temple, fully aware that she’d faltered—big time. But one mistake—a mistake she wouldn’t make again—could easily be overlooked. Her hiatus was not in jeopardy. Her goal of avoiding the opposite sex on any sort of romantic plane would stay firmly intact, because complications with men—especially men who looked, tasted, and felt like Shane—were nothing she had time for—or wanted.
Sitting up straight, she readied a pen and pad of paper, determined to get back to work and forget the whole thing, and muttered a swear when the front door opened.
“Mornin’,” Jenny stepped inside, her hair damp and dripping, wearing one of the two pairs of shorts she owned and the Bud Light t-shirt she’d arrived in the night she came back.
Reagan smiled. “Good morning.”
Jenny fiddled with her fingers as she rocked back on her heels. “Uh, Faith’s havin’ her bottle with Shane. He said I should come on over.”
“Of course.” She stood, hoping to ease Jenny’s nerves. “Come on in and…” Her thoughts vanished and her stomach betrayed her with a rush of tingles as Shane walked up the steps, looking begrudgingly sinful in one of his snug exercise tops and jeans, holding Faith in his arms.
“Looks like you made it,” he said to Jenny. “Hey, Doc. We missed you this morning.” He held her stare, as he closed the door behind him.
“Uh, yes. I had some stuff to do.” Even as she fumbled for an excuse, she knew he didn’t believe her. She tore her gaze from his, flicking a glimpse at his lips and rock-hard arms, well aware of exactly how they felt wrapped around her, holding her tight. Clearing her throat, she leaned her butt against the desk. “Is there something you need?”
“Nah. I just thought we’d come by for a quick visit. Faith wanted to wish her mommy good luck.”
Jenny smiled, taking the baby’s hand. “Mommy’s gonna learn all about nursin’ so she can take care of you right.” She turned her attention to Reagan. “I wasn’t sure how long you’d be wantin’ me to stay.”
She hadn’t been expecting Jenny this early, but she wasn’t going to turn her away. She had every intention of capitalizing on Jenny’s enthusiasm and running with it. “Probably for an hour or so. Today we’ll get familiar with some of the equipment, and I can show you how to take and record some basic vital signs.”
“Doc’s great with vitals,” Shane said.
Reagan swallowed, rubbing at her heart accelerating in her chest, remembering Shane’s fingers sliding along the skin of her neck—exactly his intention, she had no doubt. “We should probably get started.”
“We’ll see you later.” Shane waved Faith’s hand. “Good luck, Mommy,” he said in a foolish girl voice.
Jenny laughed, and Reagan smiled despite herself.
The door closed behind him, and she wiped her damp palms on her jeans, not quite steady—which she was also certain Shane had intended. Definitely sneaky. Drop by with the pretenses of a casual morning greeting, get her all stirred up and make her remember—not that she’d forgotten—and then just leave. “I’m so glad you decided to come in.”
“I want to get to learnin’.”
She beamed. “That’s excellent.”
Jenny walked over to the white coat hanging on the hook in the office area, fingering Reagan’s monogramed name. “You got your own coat.”
“Yes. My friends gave that to me as a gift when I finished medical school—for my residency.” An idea struck her as Jenny continued to admire the stitching. “I actually have something for you.”
“You do?”
She nodded, walking to the supply closet, unlocking one of the doors. “I imagine you’ll need smalls.” She took out two pairs of blue scrubs and handed them over. “When you come in for your training, I’ll want you to wear these.”
Jenny’s eyes filled with excitement. “I need—you want me wearin’ these?”
“Definitely. This is very much an internship. By the time we’re finished here you’ll not only be ready to pass your GED with flying colors, but you’ll also be ready to kick butt in a CNA program.”
“I don’t want to be a CNA.”
Her stomach sank a little. She could help Jenny go as far as she wanted in the medical field. She had enough of a name behind her to cement Jenny’s future if her eager new student was willing to work hard. “You don’t?”
Jenny shook her head. “I want to be a LPN. I was lookin’ at the computer in the study last night after you went to bed. I can make more money bein’ a LPN. Then maybe when Faith is old enough for grade school, I’ll start schoolin’ to be a RN.”
She loved that Jenny had goals and a plan. “Okay. We can make that happen if that’s what you really want.”
“I do. I’m supposed to be meetin’ Terry tonight. I’m tellin’ him I ain’t marryin’ him right now.”
Reagan nodded, treading lightly. “I think that’s a good choice for you and Faith.”
She played with the string on her new pants. “He’s gonna be mad.”
“How mad?”
“Pretty mad.” She emphasized her words with wide eyes.
“Are you afraid he’ll hurt you?”
She shook her head. “Terry ain’t like that, but he won’t be wantin’ to hear about me workin’ to support myself.”
She saw her opening to ask more about Faith’s father without appearing as if she was prying. She and Shane knew nothing about him. She leaned against the exam room doorway, wanting to keep their conversation casual. “So, how old is Terry?”
“Eighteen.”
“Oh. So he’s in high school—a senior?”
“No. He dropped out Sophomore year. He’s been talkin’ about the GED, but I’m thinkin’ he don’t really have a mind to take it.”
“He works then?” she prodded.
“He did.” Jenny sat in one of the waiting room chairs, seemingly relaxed. “At the mine, but he got himself fired for being late too many times.”
Reagan stifled a sigh. Terry was going absolutely nowhere, and if Jenny stayed with him, neither would she. “I see.”
“That’s why we gotta go to Lexington, because there’s no other jobs around here. Although I’m not feelin’ quite as excited about movin’ now that I get to do my internship.”
And thank God for that. She walked over to Jenny, taking the chair next to her, more determined than ever to help. “If Terry truly cares for you, he’ll support your choices. I’m proud of you. Your decision to pursue your education and get a good job will give you a chance to give Faith everything you want for her.” She took her hand, squeezing gently. “And yourself.”
“I want to be a good mommy.”
“You already are.”
She shook her head. “I wanna be better.”
“Then you will be. You’re welcome to the books Shane ordered in on parenting and infant care, and you know you can use the internet as well.”
She nodded. “But I—” Jenny let loose a long sigh. “The other night when I came back, I stood in the woods for a long time watchin’ you and Shane on the porch while he was playin’ the guitar, and you were holdin’ Faith. He’s so handsome and you’re so pretty. You two were talkin’ and laughin’ and lovin’ on Faith like a cozy picture in a magazine. I wanted nothin’ more than to be in your picture.”
Her eyes filled as she stared at Jenny. The sweet, beautiful girl in front of her was lonely and desperate for a connection. She wanted a place to belong. Reagan thought of her own childhood, empathizing with Jenny entirely. “You know, I bet if someone were to look in our window tonight, they would see a similar picture—a mommy and her baby girl and their friends, sitting at the dinner table, laughing and sharing the events of their day over a hot meal.”
Jenny blinked at her own tears. “That sounds mighty nice.”
She nodded. “It sure does.” She hugged Jenny, holding on, smiling when their new house member wrapped her arms around her.
Jenny drew away, wiping at her cheek. “I’m gettin’ all mess
y.”
“That’s a girl’s prerogative.” She winked, and Jenny chuckled. “What do you say I show you around here and we’ll start with a lesson on measuring height and weight accurately.”
The front door opened again.
Reagan turned, expecting to see Shane, but a tired-eyed woman no more than twenty stepped into the waiting room, hugely pregnant. Reagan stood. “Good morning.”
The woman gave a quick nod. “I was—I was wonderin’ if I might be able to get an appointment.” She crossed her arms at her chest.
“Sure.” Reagan smiled, sensing the woman’s discomfort. “Come on in. I’m Reagan.”
“Uh, Mary Jo.”
“Is the appointment for you, Mary Jo?”
“Yes. I, um, I’ve been having some pains.”
“Why don’t you come with me and we’ll see if we can figure out what’s going on.” She held up a finger to Jenny to tell her to wait, then led Mary Jo to the mauve exam room and closed the door. “Go ahead and have a seat in the chair or on the exam table, wherever you feel most comfortable.” Reagan sat on the rolling stool as Mary Jo took the chair. “How far along are you?”
“Right around thirty-six weeks.”
“You’re getting close.” She wiggled her brows. “You must be excited.”
Mary Jo gave her a small smile. “Yes.”
“Do you know what you’re having?”
She shook her head.
“A surprise. Is this your first pregnancy?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Can you describe the pain you’re having?”
“It ain’t a pain so much as this tightenin’ in my belly.”
“Tightening.” She nodded. “Mary Jo, I would like to give you a quick exam.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Come on up.” She helped Mary Jo settle on the table and felt around the soft mound, locating the baby’s butt. “He or she is head down.” She felt around again, certain that everything appeared normal, and was rewarded with a solid kick to her palm. “I guess the baby’s had enough of that.”
Mary Jo nodded. “Yes, ma’am.”
Mary Jo was a tough nut to crack. Her discomfort with being there was more than apparent. “I’m not feeling anything concerning.” She grabbed the Doppler. “Let’s go ahead and have a quick listen.”
Mary Jo nodded again.
Reagan squirted a small glob of gel on Mary Jo’s abdomen and turned on the machine, smiling when the heartbeat filled the room. “Perfect.” She wiped away the mess and helped Mary Jo sit up. “Does the tightening hurt?”
“No, ma’am. I’d say it’s more troublin’ than anythin’ else. My belly gets hard, and there’s pressure.”
“Does the sensation come regularly?”
She shook her head. “Just now and again.”
“Well, it sounds like you’re having Braxton Hicks contractions.”
“Contractions?” Mary Jo’s eyes widened.
“Practice contractions, which are nothing to worry about. Your body’s getting ready for the big day.”
Mary Jo puffed out a breath that could only be relief. “I thought maybe somethin’ was wrong.”
She shook her head. “You’ve got a head down baby with an excellent heartbeat.”
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. If your contractions become regular and there’s pain, I’ll want you to come back or visit your regular doctor. Your due date is right around the corner, but we like to see babies make it as close to forty weeks as possible.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Mary Jo’s eyes darted to the door as they had several times over the last few minutes.
Clearly her new patient was in a rush to be on her way. “Is there anything else I can help you with?”
“No, ma’am.”
“I hope if you have any other questions or concerns you’ll stop in or give me a call.” She handed over one of the flyers Mr. McPhee had refused when she brought them to the mine. “Oh, wait.” She opened the closet door and held out one of the new baby welcome bags she kept on hand. “Here you go. You can take one of these too. There’s some pamphlets for you, a few diapers, a bib, and a storybook for your baby.”
“Thank you.”
Reagan opened the door, and they walked into the waiting area. “Good luck and congratulations.”
“Thank you,” Mary Jo said again, starting toward the door, but then she stopped, turning back. “Doctor, Daisy’s sayin’ you diagnosed Henry with black lung.”
She was about to give her newly familiar speech on confidentiality, but ignored the technicality, sensing Mary Jo was here for more than Braxton Hicks. “Yes, I did.”
“You’s is sure it’s black lung?”
“X-rays and the tests I’m able to perform here in the office are leading me to believe Henry has progressive massive fibrosis.”
“You’s is sure?”
She nodded. “I feel very comfortable with the diagnosis.”
“Daisy’s sayin’ Henry’s goin’ to see some specialist in Lexington.”
“Yes. Doctor Jacobson.”
“Henry’s got himself oxygen.”
She nodded again, trying to figure out where Mary Jo was going with her questions and statements. “He does.”
“My husband, Jed, he’s coughin’ all the time, real bad like Henry. I’m hopin’ you can give him the tests. Jed’s wantin’ to wait for Doc Hargus, but that’s sure a time until he’ll be back, and Henry seems more comfortable.”
“How old is Jed?”
“Twenty-two.”
Twenty-two years old and he sounded like Henry? “How long has Jed been mining?”
“Mmm, about four and a half years now.”
Advanced lung disease after four years in the mine? There had to be another explanation for Jed’s symptoms. “I can certainly see him. When would he like to come in?”
“He ain’t wantin’ to, but he’s got himself the cough, and he’s weezin’ somethin’ fierce at night. It keeps me up.”
“Is this a new cough?”
“Fairly—probably over the past year it’s gotten much worse. His energy level’s real bad. Doc Hargus calls it bronchitis, but the prescription cure he hands out ain’t done nothin’ for it.”
“Bronchitis?” She hadn’t even examined Jed yet, but that didn’t sound right.
“Yes, ma’am.”
She walked into her office, looking at her appointment book. “Do you think he might be able to come in at ten?”
“We can make it.”
“I’ll write down his name.”
“Daisy’s tellin’ folks you’re real kind.”
“Daisy’s a lovely woman.”
“We’ll be in at ten.”
“I’ll look forward to seeing you.”
Mary Jo nodded, then looked at Jenny. “Jenny, I been hearin’ you was back.”
Reagan walked to the teen, sliding an arm around her shoulder as she heard the hint of disapproval. “She certainly is.” She pulled her closer against her. “Patients will be seeing a lot of Jenny around here. She’s my new intern.”
“Intern?”
Reagan nodded as Jenny sent her a thankful glance. “Jenny’s training for nursing school.”
Mary Jo’s brows rose. “Nursin’ school?”
“Absolutely.” She smiled. “I’m proud to have Jenny here with me.”
Mary Jo looked from Reagan to Jenny and back. “We’ll be seein’ you at ten.”
“I’ll look forward to meeting Jed.”
The door closed behind Mary Jo.
Jenny dislodged herself from Reagan’s hold. “You was nice to say that. Folks around here aren’t takin’ too kindly to me these days.”
“They’ll come around.”
“Probably not. I ran off. Now I’m stayin’ with Feds.”
She clenched her jaw, detesting the word Feds. “Can I ask why the community doesn’t like The Project?”
She shrugged. “I can’t say really. It
’s not like you’re a mean person or nothin’, but Pastor warned us of the Feds’ evil ways when word came that the clinic and all the rest was movin’ in.”
“Evil ways?” She led Jenny toward the scale for their first lesson.
“You know, interferin’. Comin’ into the mountains with lies and propaganda.”
She shook her head. “I don’t think I understand.”
“Feds is liars. Feds say they came to help, but they’re a distrustful bunch here to stir up trouble and take away our jobs.”
Frowning, she set the weights back to zero. “How are we taking away your jobs?”
She shrugged. “Pastor McPhee says Feds think coal is dirty energy. Feds will do and say anything they can to shut minin’ down for good.”
She paused with her hand on the height rod. “Pastor McPhee? The owner of Corpus Mining?”
“No. Well, sorta,” Jenny corrected. “Phil McPhee runs the mine operations. Bill, his brother, runs our church.”
“Oh.” Regan nodded, pressing a hand to her suddenly queasy stomach, understanding for the first time that something was definitely off. “I guess we should probably get to work.”
“I’m ready.”
~~~~
“Who’s that pretty girl?” Shane said to Faith, sitting next to her on the floor as she lay on the quilt, staring up at the toy mirror he dangled in front of her. “Who’s that smart girl?” he added, remembering his conversation with Reagan on the porch mere hours ago. He’d thought of little else since she walked away; hell, she was constantly on his mind, but what she said and how she responded to his kiss had kept his brain busy well into the night.
Her sexy moans and the way her silky tongue had eagerly sought his own filled his thoughts even now. Clearly she was interested in more than just their moonlight talks. And she was definitely avoiding him: sneaking out before everyone was awake, then trying to get rid of him when he strolled into the clinic this morning.