“Did she say who it was?” His identity didn’t matter as long as he had ‘MD’ after his name, but it would have been nice to have been better informed.
“No, but according to her we’re lucky to have him. His specialty is internal medicine and he supposedly graduated at the top of his class.”
Marta grimaced. “Great.”
“What’s wrong now? You’ve got a doctor coming—a specialist no less. What more could you want?”
“Think about it. If this guy is as good as Joe claims, what’s he doing as a locum when he could be making a fortune with a practice of his own?”
“Good point.”
“He’s probably got the personality of a slug.”
“It’s possible,” Ros agreed. “But you know what the old-timers say.”
“No, what?”
“Beggars can’t be choosers.”
Ros was right. There was little Marta could do about the situation except wait until she took the nameless doctor’s measure tomorrow. She hoped he’d be easy to work with, someone with a pleasant bedside manner. Someone like…
Evan Gallagher. Where had that thought come from? she asked herself crossly. So he was handsome, polite and charming. Considering his ties to the person she didn’t want in her life, those were liabilities, not assets.
However, when she drove to work the next morning and found a familiar black Lexus parked in the lot, she added persistent to his list of character traits. Ordinarily, it would have been a point in his favor. Right now, because his tenacity had made them opponents, she counted it as a strike against him.
She pulled her white Jeep Wrangler into the stall next to his, narrowly missing his feet as he leaned nonchalantly against the driver’s door, his arms crossed. Because the top was down to allow for Mother Nature’s method of air-conditioning, she glared at him from her seat.
“My answer is still no,” she warned.
“I haven’t asked a question.”
“Then what are you doing here?”
Evan’s killer grin appeared far too cocky. “I’m waiting for our day to begin.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Joe Campbell sent me.”
The name buzzed in her head like a swarm of bees. The situation had suddenly become too bizarre to be believed. “What?”
“I’m your new doctor.”
CHAPTER THREE
MARTA slammed her car door. “Impossible. You can’t be our new physician.”
Evan remained leaning against his Lexus, his arms folded in a picture of ease. “I am.”
“What strings did you pull?” she demanded, certain he’d used her grandfather’s considerable influence in some way.
“None at all. You needed a doctor and I was available.”
“Right,” she scoffed. “A hotshot doctor from Dallas with nothing to do. How did you know about Joe?”
“You told me.”
“I couldn’t have…” Her voice faded into nothingness. She remembered mentioning Joe Campbell’s name while Evan had been trying to introduce himself.
“All right, so I did,” she admitted crossly. “But it doesn’t explain why you’re here and not in Colorado, enjoying the mountain air.”
“As I said, you have a need and Joe has graciously consented to let me fill it.”
She narrowed her eyes. “For how long?”
His dark-eyed gaze didn’t waver. “For as long as it takes.”
It sounded like a vow. “For as long as what takes?” She knew, but wanted him to spell it out.
“To change your mind about your grandfather.”
“There isn’t enough time in the world for that.”
He shrugged. “I think there is.”
“You’re committed to this, aren’t you?”
“Yes.”
Her stomach twisted into a knot. “Having you here is absolutely ridiculous.”
“I thought it was a great solution. So did Dr Campbell.”
“He would,” she grumbled. “Why would anyone give up a scenic vacation in the Rocky Mountains? All you’ll see in New Hope is plenty of horizon and acres of tumbleweeds.”
“I like open spaces. According to the newspapers, tumbleweeds are all the rage back east. In Singapore and London, too.”
“You’re missing the point. You’re not supposed to be here at all.”
“I’m where I want to be.”
“Ah,” she said as understanding dawned. “You’re not just a friend of my grandfather’s. You’re on his payroll, aren’t you?”
“Sorry to ruin your theory, but my income comes from other sources. As for your grandfather, our relationship goes back a lot of years.”
If Evan Gallagher wasn’t Winston’s physician, then his family had clearly moved in the same circles as her grandfather. It was the only logical connection between the two men.
“As I said before,” he added in a patient tone, “Winston doesn’t know I’m here. He thinks I’m in Breckenridge. Or at least on the way there.”
Marta folded her arms. “You really don’t expect me to believe that, do you?”
He shrugged. “Believe it or not. I’ve given you the truth. Better yet, call your grandfather and ask him yourself.”
“I would, but that’s exactly what you want me to do, isn’t it?”
He grinned. “Maybe. Maybe not. You won’t know until you call.”
“Sorry,” she said, shaking her head, “I’m not falling for your trick. You’ll have to try again.”
“Suit yourself. Out of curiosity, would you like to discuss this inside? We’re starting to attract attention, but I don’t mind if you don’t…” He inclined his head toward the street.
An ancient but well-maintained Pontiac slowed to a crawl. The head of its driver, Beatrice Higgins, barely cleared the steering-wheel, but it was apparent that the blue-haired woman’s attention rested squarely on them rather than the road.
Marta inwardly groaned. Bea had a talent for sticking her nose in other people’s business and an uncanny knack for being in the right place at the wrong time.
“This isn’t settled,” she warned.
“I didn’t think it was.”
Evan’s affability irritated her no end. Screaming in frustration seemed like a way to release her frustration, but she refused to give him the satisfaction of knowing how much his presence bothered her.
As she unlocked the door, she wondered what she could do or say to send Evan Gallagher on his way. She felt like a blade of grass caught up in a tornado, tossed about with no escape until nature calmed the storm.
She led the way to her office where she tossed her crocheted tote bag on top of her cluttered desk. After drawing a fortifying breath, she asked, “Why don’t we start again?”
“Fine by me,” he said cheerfully. “Mind if I sit while we hash things over?”
Marta nodded, wishing she could crawl into bed and turn the clock back a few hours. While he sank into the padded chair opposite her desk, she pondered her situation.
Cool disdain hadn’t worked. Neither had anger. He’d endured her outright rudeness with remarkable aplomb, too. Perhaps it was time to take another tack. Maybe if she explained her side of the story, he’d accept her decision and leave her alone.
Yes, that was her answer. She’d report the bare bones of the day when she’d gathered her courage and swallowed her pride because Rachel had convinced her to give Winston a chance to redeem himself. Just thinking about how he’d cold-heartedly trampled her self-esteem in just a few short minutes sent a stabbing pain through her chest and a fresh surge of acid into her stomach.
She rummaged in her desk and popped an antacid in her mouth, aware of Evan’s gaze following her every move.
“Let me see if I understand this,” she began, pleased she sounded so normal. “You’re our locum tenens.”
He nodded. “Yes.”
“You’re not going to Colorado.”
“Not in the immediate future.”
To be honest, Evan didn’t want to spend his vacation in New Hope. As she’d said, he was giving up cool mountain streams, the soothing rustle of the aspens, weeks of solitude and soul-searching for a summer holiday of scorching heat, constant wind and miles of flat land where trees had to be pampered in order to grow.
If he hadn’t owed Winston for his very career, if he hadn’t looked upon him as a member of his own family, he would have dismissed this idea before it had become reality.
As things stood now, once he’d eliminated all of Marta’s objections and secured her co-operation, he’d leave town faster than she could list all of the human body’s organ systems.
Something glimmered in her eyes. “As a physician—”
“Internist,” he supplied.
“I’m sure your vacation can’t last indefinitely.”
Now he understood why she seemed sure of herself. She thought she could wait him out.
“True, except I’m on a leave of absence.” He didn’t think it necessary to explain the specific terms he’d negotiated—a minimum of four weeks to a maximum of three months. A few weeks spent in New Hope would still give him plenty of time for relaxing in Colorado.
“It won’t matter how long you fill in,” she said. “You’re only scheduled for one day a week in the clinic. Even if you committed to a year, you won’t be able to influence my decision.”
He had a second ace up his sleeve. “Then Dr Campbell didn’t tell you about my hours?” he asked innocently.
Her eyes narrowed. “No, he didn’t.”
“Because you’ve struggled without a doctor for so long, we thought you’d have a tremendous backlog of cases. So I’ll be coming in every morning.”
“Every morning?”
“Like clockwork,” he said cheerfully. Daily contact was required for his plan to succeed.
Marta sank onto the chair, looking stunned. “Look,” she said, “I’ll be perfectly honest. I don’t want you here.”
“I gathered as much.”
“No, really. I don’t want you here.”
“You don’t have a choice.”
She opened her mouth as if to speak, then cleared her throat and lifted the receiver. “This won’t work. Joe will simply have to send someone else.”
“You can try,” he agreed, “but if you want a doctor, you’re going to have to take me.”
“Surely there’s someone else available.” She sounded almost frantic.
“Joe doesn’t have anyone else to spare and no time to look for a replacement. Of your alternatives—me or no one at all—I’d like to think I’m the better of the two.”
For a few seconds, she met his gaze. Then, as if she’d realized who the real losers would be—her patients—she dropped the receiver back in its cradle. “In other words, you’re the lesser of two evils.”
“It’s a matter of perspective.”
She squared her shoulders and stood. “You really are just like him, aren’t you?”
Evan sensed she was referring to Winston, and not Joe. “I appreciate the compliment.”
“It wasn’t flattery. Manipulating people isn’t an honorable trait.”
“I haven’t manipulated you.”
“What would you call it when you meddle in order to get what you want?”
“I volunteered my expertise and your boss was smart enough to take advantage of my offer. He could have refused. I don’t call that manipulation.”
Marta walked toward the door. “But you knew he wouldn’t turn you away.”
“I gambled…and won. Otherwise I wouldn’t be here.”
“Where you’re clearly not wanted.”
He rose. “It dawned on me early this morning why you’re fighting me tooth and nail.”
“Could it be because you’ll hound me continuously about my grandfather? That you’ll spend every spare moment telling me what a great guy he is?” she asked sweetly.
Evan ignored her comments because she’d figured out his game plan. “You’re worried because if I stick around, you’ll change your mind.”
Her jaw dropped. “How utterly ridiculous,” she sputtered.
“Is it?” he asked.
She didn’t answer—a telling sign in his opinion. When she spoke again, her voice was coolly professional.
“I’ll bring the charts of the people you should see today. You can use my office.”
“I don’t want to inconvenience you—”
“Too late,” she said shortly. “You already have.”
She reached for the knob, but he knew if she left it would be a long time until he could safely continue this conversation. “Wait.”
Marta hesitated. Turning to face him, she raised one eyebrow.
“This doesn’t have to be difficult. For either of us.”
“Oh, it won’t be,” she determined. “Because you’ll have your patients and I’ll have mine. Our conversations will be limited to medical topics—nothing personal. And my grandfather’s name is hereby off-limits.”
She was beautiful when she was angry. Her warning, however, didn’t intimidate Evan. “Winston needs you.”
She scoffed. “You can’t make me feel guilty. He doesn’t need anyone, least of all me.”
“It’s true,” he insisted. “You need him, too. You just don’t realize it yet.”
“Spare me the psychoanalysis, Dr Gallagher. I’m not interested.”
“It’s common sense.”
Marta turned the knob and opened the door. “Common sense or not, it appears we’re at an impasse. I’m not including Winston Clay in my life and you’re not leaving until I do. So I hope you don’t have any long-term career plans because this part of Kansas will become beachfront property before I’ll change my mind.
“Now, if you’re truly here to work, shall we get started?”
Evan had pushed as far as he dared. For now. “By all means. But, Marta, I don’t give up easily.”
She stared at him for a long moment. “Neither do I.”
“I will not let him get to me,” Marta muttered as she jerked charts off the racks, starting with Monica Taylor’s. “He’ll do his job and I’ll do mine. That’s all.”
Deep in her thoughts, she didn’t notice the whisper of Ros’s wheels coming behind her.
“It’s not a good sign to hear you talking to yourself so early in the day,” Ros said cheerfully. “I noticed a familiar Lexus parked outside.”
“Don’t remind me,” Marta complained.
Ros glanced around. “So where is he?” She leaned forward. “On second thoughts, don’t tell me where you stashed the body. I’d rather not know.”
“He’s in my office. Apparently he’s wiggled his way into Dr Campbell’s good graces and is now going to be our physician.”
“Unbelievable. Do you think you can manage one day a week in his company?”
“It’s worse than that. He’s going to work every morning for who knows how long.”
What a depressing thought. To be in the presence of one of the all-time most handsome men and know his goal was only to be a thorn in her side—a constant reminder of things better left forgotten.
Why couldn’t he be short, forty pounds overweight, balding, and have a face capable of curdling milk with one glance? At least then her hormones wouldn’t add their two cents’ worth to the situation.
“Great. Who do you want me to call first?” Ros had a list of patients with conditions requiring a physician’s attention, but which weren’t of an emergency nature. Rather than drive to Liberal, those people had asked to wait until the next time the doctor visited.
“Must you be so cheerful about this?”
Ros shrugged. “It’ll be nice to have easy access to a physician for a change.”
“I just wish it would have been someone else.”
“Things have a way of working out,” Ros said.
Marta groaned as she pulled the last chart. “Just what I needed. My secretary waxing philosophical.”
�
�And all at no extra charge,” Ros quipped.
Marta held the stack under Ros’s nose. “Then I must be paying you too much. See if you can get in touch with these folks.”
Ros, gifted with an ability to remember names, glanced at the tags and nodded. “Will do. I’ll let you know in a few minutes.”
Marta took the charts down the hall, grateful for the camaraderie she shared with Ros. She’d need someone to help get her through the upcoming weeks until Evan Gallagher faced facts and accepted defeat.
She found him in her office, studying her notebooks filled with diagnostic protocols.
“These cases are the most pressing,” she said, dropping the files on her desk. “Ros will let us know as soon as they arrive.”
He took the top folder. “Ricardo Rodriguez.”
“He has a knot on his forehead about the size of a golf ball.”
“Tumor?”
“It’s probably a lipoma. He’s had one excised before just like it, so he’s not worried about it being cancerous. His son is getting married at the end of the summer and he doesn’t want to have a lump on his face for the pictures.”
Evan nodded. “OK. What about Maria Gonzales?”
“Thirty-year-old diabetic. Her last hemoglobin A1C test was way out of range. I thought it might be a good idea if you saw her.”
“What about her blood glucose?”
“The few times I’ve checked it with the meter, it’s been fine but, as you know, a finger-stick test only shows her current status. The A1C test indicates long-term compliance.”
“Do you think she’s cheating on her diet or just needs to adjust her insulin?”
“Both.”
“All right.” Evan opened the third chart. “What about Juanita Lopez?”
“Hypertension. She’s thirty-five and developed high blood pressure about six months ago. She was taking oral contraceptives at the time, and so we discontinued them. Her BP dropped, but has steadily climbed again. It hasn’t been below 150 over 100 for about six weeks.”
“Have you done any urine studies? Catecholamines, metanephrines, creatinine?”
Marta shook her head. “Dr Laraby—he left before Dr Evans came on board—talked about doing those, but he never ordered them.”
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