“There’s always the possibility that someone just dumped him on the side of the road, though,” she added. “People can be very cruel, or ignorant—they think it’s better than taking a pet to the shelter, and never consider that the animal may starve or be injured. If no one claims this guy, we’ll keep him. If someone does, we’ll go to the shelter and find another dog. I promise.”
While she put away groceries and started supper, she watched them through the kitchen window.
Lily, the limp from her poorly repaired clubfoot so much more noticeable when she tried to run with the pup, beamed with a joy that lit up her sweet face.
Drew so rarely smiled, but now his shouts of laughter echoed through the meadow. And Tyler had for these past few moments seemed like any other carefree child you’d see playing in a backyard, instead of one who’d lived through hell. Please, Lord, let this dog stay with us, she whispered.
Bracing her hands on the sink, Erin closed her eyes and rolled her head from side to side, working out the tension in her neck.
No easy day, this. Poor Frank Willoughby—who’d been on the verge of discharge—should have been back at the nursing home with his wife by now, eating supper. And Connor…
Ignoring the uneasy feeling in her stomach, Erin washed her hands, unwrapped a pound of ground beef and began forming patties.
She’d never expected to run into Connor, much less end up as his neighbor, but she’d made a promise to Stephanie and she planned to keep it.
Even if her premonition of trouble was growing with each passing day.
CONNOR GRIMACED as he hesitated at the door of Ollie’s Diner on Thursday morning, even as the aromas of bacon and coffee and hot, caramel-drenched cinnamon rolls beckoned.
When deciding to come up to Blackberry Hill, he’d planned to cover Ed’s clinic, take good care of the patients and spend the rest of his time in blessed solitude up on Hadley’s Mountain. He’d sworn not to become involved in local hospital politics.
God knew he just wanted to be left alone, especially after the incident at the hospital in Green Bay.
But Grace Fisher—an unopposable force if there ever was one—and his own deceptively sweet office nurse, Linda, had conspired against him, and here he was, walking into a meeting he’d planned to avoid.
Sighing heavily, he stepped inside the small entryway and right into the 1940s. On one side, red vinyl stools faced the long lunch counter with its old-fashioned soda fountain, while high-backed booths lined the other, and Formica-topped tables filled the space between. War posters, antique kitchen utensils and curling vintage calendars covered the walls.
Every available seat was taken, and the din from clinking china, bustling waitresses and the lively conversation of patrons was nearly deafening. He scanned the room for a familiar face.
Guess not. Smiling to himself, he turned to go.
“Wait,” a deep voice boomed from the rear of the room. “Come on back—we’re right here!”
All conversation ceased. All eyes turned to the entryway. Feeling like a burglar caught in the act, Connor stopped and looked over his shoulder. Arnold Olson, a local family-practice GP, waved vigorously from an arched doorway at the far end of the diner. Behind him, Connor glimpsed the edge of a booth set apart from the others.
Wishing he’d moved to the door a little faster, Connor made his way through the crowded room, nodding to the tables full of people welcoming him every step of the way.
“Hey, Doc—I seen your picture in the paper,” called one beaming, white-haired old gent in overalls and a red flannel shirt. “Mighty glad to have you here while Hadley’s gone!”
Clapping him on the shoulder, Connor sidestepped between the last set of tables and a waitress laden with an armload of overflowing plates.
“Good to see you again,” murmured Leland Anderson, a thin, fastidious GP from nearby Portville. He sat in the booth next to Arnold, whose belly barely fit behind the table.
Dr. Jill Edwards, a brunette with her hair caught in a classy twist, glanced up at Connor as she started to slide out of the booth. “Hi, Connor. If you’re joining everyone here, you can have my place. I need to meet my husband.”
“Hold on, you can’t go yet. We won’t have a quorum,” Arnold snorted. He waved impatiently at Connor. “Come on, pull up a chair. Your opinion is important, too.”
Connor grabbed an empty chair from a table in the main dining area and brought it to the back booth. Only then did he notice Erin in the corner, her short, dark hair gleaming in the dim light and her delicate features nearly hidden in the shadows as she studied the documents on the table in front of her.
He caught unexpected surprise—and wariness—in her eyes when she finally looked up at him.
“Connor. How…nice of you to join us.”
Wariness? Where the hell did that come from? Then again, she’d been distantly related to Stephanie and would have known her parents. He could well imagine what Regina and Victor would have said about him to anyone who would listen.
Erin glanced at her watch, then picked up the stack of papers in front of her and tapped them into a neat pile. “We were just talking about the needs of the staff and patients at the hospital.”
“And possible ways to improve its financial outlook,” Jill added. “With exponentially rising costs and decreasing revenue, the board has some grim projections for the future.”
“You mentioned an MRI unit,” Erin said, lifting a cool gaze to meet Connor’s. “And a dialysis program.”
“That’s impossible,” Arnold blustered. “We don’t have the facility, we don’t have the patient base. And we sure as hell don’t have the money.”
“Most things are possible,” Erin countered. “It just depends on the level of community support, and how hard people are willing to work for it to happen.”
“Equipment costs are astronomical,” Leland pointed out, wiping his fingertips on a napkin. “You’d need additional trained staff, yet I hear you’re already looking at cutting hours.”
“I am,” she said slowly, “looking at every conceivable way to operate the hospital with greater efficiency, in ways that will ensure the viability of this facility—and this community—in years to come. When I’m fully prepared, I’ll present my findings and my recommendations to the board. That’s why I want to involve all of you. As physicians with hospital privileges, you’ve seen what works and what doesn’t, and know what you need to practice medicine most efficiently.”
Mollified, Leland leaned back. “Then you must know that in the past grand ideas have proven to be great mistakes. Very great.”
Connor fought a smile as he listened to Erin calmly meet one question after another. He was strangely proud of her fast, intelligent responses and her patience with even the most pointed of Leland’s queries.
The Erin he remembered from college had been a shy little thing—lost in Stephanie’s overpowering shadow. That certainly wasn’t the case anymore.
“So,” she continued, “I’d like you all to develop a list of improvements the hospital needs. Equipment, remodeling, new programs you feel would be of benefit to your patients. We’re already into September, and I’d like to campaign for a tax levy. We need to bring this hospital into the twenty-first century.”
Arnold gave a dismissive wave of his hand. “The elections are in November.”
“And likely too soon for us to campaign heavily enough to convince the voters. If it doesn’t appear possible, we could have the proposal withdrawn and request a special election. I’m also looking into some grants, and guaranteed low interest loans being offered to health care institutions by the government.”
“We’ve gotten along before now,” he retorted. “What’s the rush?”
“The hospital, along with the schools here, are a key element of this town’s future. Arnold and Leland, you’re both on the board. You know that there have been concerns about the budget.”
“This is a very small community, Mrs. Lang.” Leland gave her a bored loo
k. “There isn’t a lot of extra money. We’ve even had trouble making payroll from time to time.”
She dropped her attention to the papers in front of her and ran a slender forefinger down a column of numbers on the top sheet. “And if the hospital goes under, there are going to be nearly a hundred full-time, part-time and pool employees without jobs. People who may need to move elsewhere, taking their schoolchildren, their purchasing power and their tax dollars with them.”
“It’s worth looking into, don’t you think?” Jill argued. “We’ve lost a lot of business to Henderson Regional. They offer more services, even if they are farther away.” She glanced at the two older doctors across the table. “People moving into a community want to be assured of good schools and good medical care. If we can’t offer them, the town loses. And we can’t afford that.”
Leland polished his coffee spoon with a napkin, his brow furrowed. “You weren’t here back in ’95. Big plans—everything fell through. People lost money and they lost faith.”
“I’m not looking at finding a few big private investors,” Erin said quietly. “Fund-raising options will be important—but this won’t be the type of situation you experienced before.”
Arnold studied her for a moment, his eyes narrowed. Then he threw up his hands. “Hell, I’m not going to be around here much longer. Should have retired five years ago and moved to Florida after my wife died. If you want to give this a try, more power to you—and I’ll do what I can.”
“I agree.” Jill stood and gave Erin a wink. “Go for it, and we’ll start working on a proposal for you to look over. Connor?”
“If you want the hospital to be competitive, you’ll need to update the equipment and the physical plant. It should have been done years ago.” He shrugged. “I won’t be around long enough to see it happen, but you certainly have my support.”
“Leland?”
Placing his spoon neatly across the saucer in front of him, he raised a brow. “It wouldn’t hurt to look into this further, I suppose. The doctor’s lounge has certainly been a disgrace for the past twenty years or more.”
Erin’s hands tensed on her coffee cup, but she merely gave the older man a nod.
Leland’s mouth softened into a faint smile. “Good, then. We’ll get back to you, say…by the 25th of the month?”
“How about the 18th, right here. We’ll have more time to take action—especially if we need to petition for a special election.”
“We’ll try.” Jill waved and headed for the door. Arnold and Leland followed, leaving Erin sitting in the booth, an elbow propped on the table and her forehead resting in her palm.
Connor hesitated. “Headache?”
She started, then gave him an embarrassed look. “I, um, thought you’d all left.”
“On my way.” He grabbed the back of his chair and shoved it toward the neighboring table. “Ambitious plans you have here. For a newcomer and all.”
“It’s my job, and I need to do it well.”
The determination in her voice was unmistakable, and he thought back to the evening he’d stopped by the cabin. He’d seen the kids and her, but no evidence of another adult. Certainly not a second car. “Your husband…”
“My ex is back in Wausau.” Her mouth quirked at one corner. “Enjoying midlife freedom with a girl half his age, who probably ought to take a closer look at the kind of guy she ‘won,’ bless her.”
Connor cleared his throat. “It can’t be easy for you, so far from town—with a full-time job and three kids. If you need to break the lease on your house…or if you want to be closer to town…”
“Actually, I couldn’t be happier.” She briskly tucked her documents and calculator into a portfolio, dropped a five-dollar bill on the table and slid out of the booth. Standing in high heels, she barely came up to Connor’s shoulder. “Thank you for joining us this morning, Doctor.”
She gave him a brief, businesslike smile and strode for the door without a backward glance. If he’d had a communicable illness, she couldn’t have seemed more eager to escape.
Shaking his head, he made his way through the crowded room. She didn’t need to worry.
Stephanie’s family had shunned him ever since her death, and he had no wish to reestablish a connection with any of them now. He had no intentions of starting any personal relationships, either. He’d been down that road already, and it sure hadn’t been a success.
Erin was simply a link to his past, nothing more.
GRACE RUBBED THE BACK of her neck as she stepped out of the pharmacy department, pulled the door shut and started down the administrative hallway toward the front desk. Another long day…and she felt it in every joint. At the door of George’s old office she slowed to glance inside, then stopped and rapped on the frame when she saw Erin at her computer.
“It’s four-thirty—don’t you usually head home now?” The girl looked drawn, and Grace’s bone-deep instincts for mothering kicked into high gear. “This will all wait.”
Erin looked up at the clock on the wall. “Guess I’d better. The kids have been home for a half hour already.” She closed out of the Excel program on her screen, shut down the computer and retrieved her purse from a file drawer. “They called me the minute they got home, but I still don’t feel comfortable having them there alone for very long.”
“They’re what—fourth and fifth graders?”
“Tyler’s in first, Lily’s in fourth and Drew is a fifth grader.”
“So they should do okay then—lots of kids manage alone for a while if their parents work.”
“It still makes me nervous. Until yesterday I was taking them to and from school, but Drew totally rebelled over that. He said he’d taken care of his brother for years just fine, thank you very much, and that they all thought the bus would be fun. So yesterday, we tried using the bus after school—and the driver left them out way down on the highway.” Erin shuddered. “Heaven knows who could see them out there, alone—and the walk home is a good mile. That’s too far for Lily.”
Remembering that fragile child, with her awkward limp, Grace nodded, feeling instant sympathy for the young woman shuffling the papers on her desk into some semblance of order.
“So the bus driver agreed to take them right up to our door from now on.” Erin stuffed some files and her planner into a battered leather briefcase, then gave an agitated wave of her hand. “We’re giving this idea a trial run—but the first sign of trouble, and they’ll be going to a sitter after school.”
“There could be another option.” Grace studied her thoughtfully. “Do you know Jane Adams, one of the nursing assistants on third shift? She has five kids including a daughter who’s a senior in high school, and her husband is disabled. I’ll bet Haley could use some extra spending money. They’re good people. Trustworthy.”
Erin’s face lit up. “Really? I’ve been asking around, trying to find a dependable high school student, but haven’t had any luck. They’re all either busy with after-school activities or have jobs already.”
“I remember those days well. It’s hard to find good sitters—and then they finish school, leave town, and you have to start all over.”
Erin cocked her head slightly, then faint color washed into her pale cheeks, and Grace chuckled. “No, you’re right. I’m still ‘Miss Fisher,’ but I had dozens of foster kids over the years.”
“That’s amazing.” Erin’s voice was filled with admiration. “You’ve been a busy woman.”
“And enjoyed every minute. I’m past those days, though. Raised my last set of kids a few years back, and now I’m looking forward to retiring from here soon.” Ignoring the wave of loneliness that always rushed through her at the thought, she gave an offhand shrug. “I might do some traveling—and go see some of my ‘chicks.’ They’ve moved from coast to coast now.”
“That sounds wonderful.”
Ah, yes…wonderful. But what about the days and weeks and months after that? The years? “Jane is on the schedule tonight—I’
ll put a note on the time clock for her,” Grace said briskly. “They haven’t had a phone for a while, but it should be back in service soon. Jane could check with her daughter and then call you from here.”
Giving her a grateful smile, Erin fished her car keys from the depths of her purse. “You’re a lifesaver.”
“No problem. You’d be doing Haley a favor, I think. That family doesn’t have it easy.” With a nod of farewell, Grace started down the hall toward her office, thankful that she still had her beloved job. The hustle and bustle of busy days.
What on earth would she do with her life when she had to retire? She’d never been one to sit idle, and she had no one left to share those interminable years ahead.
A brief, poignant image flashed through her head, of the one man she’d always loved.
Maybe…
But who would ever imagine that Grace Fisher, Director of Nursing, could even entertain such foolish thoughts? The years had left her hefty, gray-haired and entirely too practical for such nonsense.
She’d made her choices, and she’d lived with them well. Regrets were a waste of time.
CHAPTER SIX
“I DIDN’T LET SCOUT LOOSE,” Drew hissed.
“Did, too. I bet you left the door open.” Lily, who almost never stood up to him, jammed her hands on her skinny hips. “Now he’s gone. Maybe that wolf will get him.”
“And if Erin knows we lost him again, she’s gonna be mad,” Tyler whispered. “She already said we weren’t being careful enough.”
Tyler, Lily and Drew exchanged worried glances, then turned as one toward the half-closed door of Erin’s home office. On Saturday mornings she usually worked between breakfast and lunchtime, and she’d just gotten started.
Which could, Drew figured, give them a half hour before she might get suspicious about the silence and come out looking for them. “Lily, you stay here. Turn on the stereo. Make noise.”
“We all gotta go find him.” Gnawing on his lower lip, Tyler shifted his weight back and forth. “If we all hunt, we have a better chance. Won’t take so long, either.”
Almost a Family Page 5