Dr. Wonderful

by Charlotte Douglas

  “Do you have 911 emergency service?” he asked.

  She nodded. “Paramedics and firefighters man the rescue station halfway between here and town. If we need a deputy, the sheriff’s office dispatches the nearest car.”

  Matt recalled the long drive up the mountain from town to the village. No way to open up an engine and speed around those dangerous curves without flying off the road. “So if you called for help, it could take a while.”

  Becca shrugged. “I told you, crime’s not a problem.”

  “Maybe I should stay here with you and Emily until you find out who was digging in the woods and why.” He couldn’t shake the protective instincts he felt toward Becca, didn’t know where they’d come from. Other than with his mother, he’d never experienced those feelings toward a woman before.

  Come to think of it, he realized with a twist of irony, most of the women he’d known in California were certified man-eaters, more than able to take care of themselves. He’d always been more concerned about protecting himself from them. But Becca had that appealing mix of strength and vulnerability that made him want to fight dragons for her.

  “Look, Matt, we’ve been through this before. Even if I believed that Emily and I were in danger—which I don’t—I can’t afford to have you stay here. The scandal could cost me my job.”

  His temper flared. “And unsavory characters with homicidal tendencies creeping through your woods could cost you your life.”

  “Good grief,” she said with a laugh that deflated his anger. “You’ve been reading too many mysteries. There’s never been a murder on Warwick Mountain.”

  He wanted to say there was always a first time, but he knew when he was beaten. He’d have to move out today, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t keep an eye out for Becca and Emily from the village. Any vehicle heading up the mountain road toward Becca’s would have to pass by the feed store. It shouldn’t take him long to learn to recognize the regulars and spot a stranger.

  Becca paused on the gravel path. “Go on inside. I’ll join you in a minute.”

  She headed toward the barn. Matt entered the kitchen to the aroma of freshly brewed coffee, went to the sink and scrubbed the dirt from his hands. As he finished, Becca stepped inside and plunked a huge and obviously heavy wooden box on the floor.

  “Here’s Grandpa’s tool kit. You can take it with you when you go.”

  Matt suppressed a sigh. He recognized here’s-your-hat-what’s-your-hurry when he heard it. She hadn’t repeated her offer of giving him a hand with the feed-store measurements. Maybe he’d over-stepped the line by suggesting he remain at her house.

  Whatever the reason she’d closed him out, she hadn’t forgotten her Southern hospitality. With a bright but brittle smile, she served him the best and biggest breakfast he’d ever tasted, what he figured would be his last meal in Becca’s house.

  “SO HOW’S DR. WONDERFUL settling in?” Aunt Delilah sat at Becca’s kitchen table, idly twirling the ice in her glass of tea.

  Becca glanced away from the window where she’d been watching Emily give a picnic for her dolls in the backyard. “Don’t know. Haven’t talked to him since he left three days ago.”

  Delilah’s gray eyebrows shot up in twin peaks. “You just abandoned him?”

  “Why is Matt Tyler my responsibility?”

  Her aunt had keyed in too closely on the guilt Becca felt from ignoring the doctor, especially when his coming here was doing the community a favor. But she didn’t dare spend time with him. More than village gossip, what she feared most was her response to him, an excitement that she hadn’t been able to control. Avoidance was her best hope. She’d suffered heartbreak once. She wasn’t about to set herself up for it again.

  “You invited him here,” Delilah reminded her.

  “I invited Dwight Peyseur.”

  “And Matt’s filling in.”

  “For the benefit of the community. Nothing to do with me,” Becca insisted.

  “Then he might as well go home.” Delilah set her glass on the table with a thud. “Folks are too leery of his womanizing ways to let him treat them.”

  “Womanizing ways?”

  “Does People magazine lie?”

  Becca squirmed in her chair. She’d sneaked that issue out of Bessie’s shop yesterday and read the article from start to finish. Twice. The story provided nothing concrete, nothing that proved Matt was anything more than a party animal, but the report included enough innuendo for even the least literal of readers to jump to some fairly steamy conclusions. Implications were clear that Dr. Wonderful had used more than his medical expertise to amplify the smiles of Hollywood’s plethora of female pulchritude.

  “If people—and especially their children—need medical care,” Becca insisted hotly, “what difference does it make if the man’s bedded every actress in Hollywood?”

  “You think he has?” Delilah’s voice raised an octave in interest.

  “I know no more about his sex life than you do,” Becca said with irritation. “The point is, why cut off their noses to spite their faces? He’s here to offer his services, and folks should take advantage of him, particularly the McClains and the Dickenses.”

  “Takes time for people to trust him. Especially with their children.”

  “But we don’t have time.” Frustration edged Becca’s voice. “He’ll be leaving in a month.”

  Delilah pursed her lips, cast a quick glance around the kitchen as if to assure herself that they were alone, then leaned across the table like a conspirator. “I need your help, Rebecca.”

  At the desperation in her aunt’s voice, Becca tensed. “What’s wrong?”

  “It’s Jake’s sister, Lydia.”

  “Is her sciatica worse?”

  “She’s ruining our marriage.” Delilah’s eyes clouded with tears. “In over fifty years, Jake and I have rarely had a cross word, but we’ve snapped at each other like quarreling dogs ever since that woman arrived.”

  “I can’t keep her here,” Becca said. “As soon as Matt’s finished his additions to the feed store, I’ll be introducing him to the community, helping him with his rounds.”

  Delilah shook her head. “Jake wouldn’t hear of Lydia’s leaving our house. Not while her sciatica has her in such pain. But she’s driving me crazy, expecting me not only to wait on her hand and foot but to keep her entertained. Today’s the first break I’ve had since she arrived, and I wouldn’t be out of the house now if Susie Ledbetter hadn’t volunteered to sit with her.”

  “I can come up now and then to stay with Lydia if you need to get out more,” Becca offered.

  “No, that’s not what I meant.” Delilah swept the kitchen with another surreptitious glance. “You can help better another way.”

  “How?”

  Delilah took a deep breath. “Sneak Dr. Wonderful into Lydia’s room.”

  “Good heavens, Aunt Delilah, what are you thinking?”

  Becca wondered if her aunt had slipped a cog, thinking Matt such a womanizer, he’d “entertain” an elderly lady.

  “Get your mind out of the gutter, Becca,” Delilah snapped. “I need the doctor’s medical expertise, not his—”

  Her aunt fumbled for words.

  “His what?” Becca couldn’t help enjoying her aunt’s embarrassment.

  “Not his amorous abilities,” Delilah said with a grimace.

  “Sorry.” Becca bit back a laugh. “I guess I misunderstood.”

  “You sure did,” Delilah said sharply. “After all, Lydia’s got a bad back.”

  Becca tried to keep a straight face. “Lydia would let Matt examine her back?”

  “She hasn’t heard the gossip or read the magazine.”

  “What if Susie Ledbetter tells Lydia while she’s there today?”

  “I made her promise not to. Told her Lydia couldn’t take any excitement.” Delilah reached across the table and grabbed her hand. “I’m desperate, Becca. I have to have Lydia cured and out of my house or Jake and I w
ill continue to be at each other’s throats. The woman has to be the world’s worst patient, and she’s driving me past my limits!”

  Becca took pity on her aunt. “What did Lydia’s doctor in Blairsville recommend?”

  “A few days of bed rest, then mild exercise, but Lydia refuses to get out of bed. Says the pain’s too intense.”

  “You think she’s faking?”

  Delilah shrugged. “Hard to tell. I believe she’s really suffering, but she’s also milking her ailment for all the sympathy she can get. She has Jake wrapped around her little finger, but he’s not the one waiting on her hand and foot.”

  “And you want me to sneak Matt in to see her?”

  Delilah nodded. “Jake’s going to town day after tomorrow. He’ll be gone most of the day. If you could arrange it then?”

  Conflicting emotions warred inside Becca. Delilah had just presented her with a perfect excuse to call on Matt without seeming personally interested. But seeing him again so soon threatened to weaken the defenses she’d thrown up against him. She had hoped for a few more days to gather her senses. Much as she’d like, however, she couldn’t avoid him forever. And she couldn’t turn her back on her aunt’s obvious distress.

  “I’ll take supper down to him this evening,” she said, “and arrange a visit to Lydia.”

  “Thank God,” Delilah said. “I’m at my wit’s end.”

  “That doesn’t mean he’ll cure her,” Becca warned. “He may be no more help than her own doctor. After all, plastic surgery, not backs, is his specialty.”

  Delilah nodded and sipped her tea. “I understand. By the way, you’re in for a surprise at the feed store. Bobbie Jo at the Shop-N-Go said a big eighteen-wheeler from Lowe’s Home Improvement Warehouse pulled up in front of the feed store early yesterday. Took hours to unload. Lumber, drywall, a refrigerator, you name it. And this morning, a van from a furniture store all the way from Hickory made a delivery. With all they unloaded, you’d think the man was settling in for life.”

  “If you’re a millionaire, you don’t have to do without your comforts,” Becca said with a touch of irony, “even in a derelict feed store. He can afford to order anything he wants, hire any help he needs. I’m surprised he hasn’t advertised for a chef.”

  She glanced at her aunt and could almost see the wheels turning in Delilah’s mind. “You’re not thinking of applying for a job as his cook?”

  Delilah looked aghast. “Jake would skin me alive. No, I was thinking I’ll take Emily home to have supper with us. You take Matt his meal, then report to me when you pick up Emily.”

  “In front of Jake?”

  Delilah’s eyes widened in alarm. “You can’t mention the house call while Jake’s around. He won’t have Dr. Wonderful touching his precious sister.” Then she grinned. “But he’ll be as interested as me in the details of what’s going on in the feed store.”

  Becca nodded. “I’ll call Emily for you.”

  Consumed with reluctance and anticipation, she went to the door to summon her daughter.

  No big deal taking dinner to Matt, she assured herself. She was a grown woman in charge of her own destiny. She could control her response to the handsome doctor.

  Couldn’t she?

  Chapter Seven

  By the time Becca parked in front of the feed store a couple hours later, she had convinced herself that her attraction to Matt Tyler was a mere passing fancy. Nothing special about the man, she assured herself. And the fact that he was too handsome, too wealthy, too self-confident and too soon returning to the other side of the country lessened his appeal even more.

  Nothing she couldn’t handle.

  Taking a deep breath, she slid from the car and removed the basket packed with his supper. No problem. She’d hand him the food, arrange a house call for Delilah’s sister-in-law and be on her way.

  Becca climbed the stairs of the loading dock to the shriek of a circular saw, gnawing its way through wood, which emanated from inside the store. The double front doors stood open wide to the fresh breeze, and late-afternoon sun gleamed through the high windows, illuminating the interior.

  The sight before her tempted her to turn on her heel and flee.

  Dressed only in cargo shorts, work boots and a tool belt slung low on his hips, Matt worked in a broad swath of sunlight from one of the high windows. A thin sheen of sweat slicked his torso, making it gleam like sculptured bronze, and the well-developed muscles of his shoulders and arms flexed as he leaned across a makeshift workbench, guiding his saw through a two-by-four.

  The man had obviously wielded more than a scalpel to acquire biceps and pecs like that, Becca thought. Of course, she reminded herself wryly, with his money, he probably had his own in-house gym and personal trainer. No wonder he looked like an action-movie star, unlike the scrawny, weathered and worn men of Warwick Mountain whose muscles had formed from the backbreaking labor needed to put food on their families’ tables.

  She held to that contrast as a shield against his sexiness, but she couldn’t tear her glance away.

  The saw ripped through the lumber, the noise stopped, and Matt looked up.

  His smile when he caught sight of her drew her like a magnet, and she struggled to resist his charm.

  “Hi.” He set aside the saw, reached for a towel and wiped his face, chest and arms. “If I’d known you were coming, I’d have cleaned up.”

  “I don’t want to interrupt your work,” she said hurriedly and held up the basket. “I just stopped by to bring you supper.”

  He took an appreciative whiff of the air. “Smells wonderful. I’ve been eating frozen dinners for three days.” He nodded toward the rear of the building. “We can eat in the other room.”

  “Oh, I can’t stay—”

  “But I want to show you what I’ve done.”

  Becca hesitated. She still had to arrange for Lydia’s house call. “Well, maybe a minute.”

  “I’ve eaten alone the last three days. A friendly face across the table would be a treat.” He pointed to the basket. “And if that thing’s as full as it looks, there should be plenty for both of us.” He glanced past her. “Where’s Emily?”

  “Having supper with Aunt Delilah,” Becca said automatically, then bemoaned her lack of guile. She could have used her daughter as an excuse to escape quickly. As she glimpsed the alterations to the building’s interior, however, her curiosity overcame her desire to retreat from Dr. Wonderful’s tempting presence.

  “You’ve accomplished a lot in a few days,” she observed with genuine admiration.

  “Here, let me take that and I’ll show you around.” Matt set her basket on the worktable, then waved an arm toward the half-formed wall. “I’m framing the front room now, the one I’ll use to receive patients.”

  Becca bit her tongue. With all his hard work, she didn’t have the heart to tell Matt that she doubted anyone would be using his services. Except Lydia, she reminded herself. And the McClains and the Dickenses, if she could persuade them.

  “This way,” he said. “I’ll show you the rest.”

  Becca was no expert, but even to her untrained eye, the framing in the building appeared sturdy, straight and true. Professional. She had the impression that anything Matt set his hand to, he’d do well. He pulled back plastic sheeting that covered a door frame, and she stepped into the back room and stopped short in surprise.

  “Needs paint on the drywall and a door,” Matt said, “but this is where I live.”

  Matt had worked a minor miracle. Becca moved to the center of the room and circled slowly, taking in the details.

  A trestle table in light wood flanked by two matching chairs sat beneath a high window. Nearby stood a gleaming stainless-steel refrigerator, and a rolling wooden cart held a microwave oven and coffeemaker. Grouped atop a large geometric-print carpet in earth tones in the middle of the room were a cordovan leather sofa, two chairs and an entertainment center. On end tables flanking the sofa and chairs, bronze lamps with Arts and Cra
fts shades cast a soft ambient light throughout the area. In the corner by the bathroom sat an armoire that matched the entertainment center.

  “How did you accomplish so much so fast?” she asked.

  “I learned to do without sleep when I was an intern,” he explained. “Working late, it didn’t take long to frame and drywall. And less than an hour to arrange the furniture.”

  A tall, narrow packing box leaned against the wall next to the armoire. “What’s that?” she asked.

  “A shower unit. There’s just enough room to squeeze it next to the toilet, but I wanted your okay before I installed it.”

  “That’s fine,” Becca stammered, still trying to comprehend how much the man had completed in so little time. Not only the work, but also the amount of thought and planning that had gone into the project. Matt had needed more than money alone to turn this corner of an abandoned building into an attractive, livable space. Although, judging from the obvious quality, he hadn’t skimped on cost.

  “Where do you sleep?” she asked.

  “Sofa makes into a bed. Not that I’ve used it much yet. Sit down. Try it out.”

  Again Becca hesitated. If she was going to ask a favor for Lydia, however, she had to be polite. She perched on the edge of the sofa. The smooth, glove-soft leather caressed the back of her bare legs and the plump cushions seemed to embrace her.

  Matt went to the refrigerator, removed a bottle of wine and took two glasses from the shelf beneath the microwave. “I’ve been waiting for someone to help me celebrate.”

  “Celebrate?”

  “That I haven’t lost my touch as a carpenter. Guess it’s like riding a bicycle. It all came back quickly once I started working.” He uncorked the bottle with distinct expertise, filled two glasses and handed Becca one.

  She eyed the drink warily. She hadn’t drunk wine since her days in Pinehurst. Alcohol clouded her thoughts, loosened her inhibitions and made her maudlin. She needed a clear head to deal with Matt.

  “A toast?” he asked.

  Thinking quickly, Becca clinked her glass to his. “To better medical care for the folks of Warwick Mountain.”

  “A noble sentiment,” Matt said, “and one I endorse, but this isn’t the Rotary Club.” He touched his glass to hers. “To friendship.”