Almost a Family

by Roxanne Rustand

  It would have been all too easy for Erin to watch, as well, for however long Connor stayed out there in the meadow.

  The bright October sun gilded his skin, highlighting the strong angles of his face. With each powerful, downward stroke of the mallet, his black polo shirt stretched over the muscles playing across his upper back. His faded jeans molded his trim hips and strong thighs.

  And his hands were definitely not those of a pampered city boy. They were lean and strong and tanned, and he handled the mallet as if he’d spent a career framing houses and building barns.

  That masculine capability spoke to her on a level she knew she’d better ignore, right along with his easy rapport with Lily and the boys, and the sound of his warm laughter floating to her on the late afternoon breeze.

  Foolish thoughts, she chided herself, as she went back inside and gathered a tray of chocolate chip cookies, lemonade and cups. Out in the yard she sidestepped Scout, who bounced against her legs as she walked over to the kids. “Anyone thirsty?”

  Tyler and Lily jumped to their feet and each grabbed a handful of cookies, then waited impatiently as she poured them some lemonade.

  Drew, who was kneeling in the dirt next to Connor and pounding in a stake, shook his head. “We gotta get this done before the truck comes.”

  “Truck?”

  “Cement truck—he’s gonna pour a kennel floor this evening.”

  “On a Sunday night?”

  Connor rocked back on his heels and surveyed the angles of the two-by-four framework, then pointed toward the opposite side. Drew moved over there and began pounding in another stake.

  “The cement truck driver is one of my patients. We’re doing a little bartering, because his son has medical problems and they don’t have insurance.”

  Erin raised a brow. “This looks like quite a project.”

  He didn’t look up. “The pup can’t roam. It isn’t safe up in the hills, and he doesn’t stay home very well.”

  “But this is such a permanent structure.” She surveyed the rolls of fencing materials. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

  “Absolutely. Drew, you’ve been working really hard. Take a break while Erin and I chat a minute, okay?” Connor rose to his feet, met Erin’s eyes and tipped his head toward the garage. “I need to talk to you.”

  Great. She put the refreshment tray down on a tree stump and followed him to the back of the garage. “Look, if this is about those Hadley charts—”

  “It’s about another wolf sighting.”

  Surprised, she lowered her voice. “Close by? Just one?”

  “East of my house—not a hundred yards away—and some people living on the edge of town reported that their small dogs have disappeared. One of them spotted a gray wolf in the area that evening. I’m guessing that it’s the one I’ve seen up here.”

  Her defensiveness faded. “I thought wolves avoided populated areas.”

  “Livestock is easy prey for them, and there are large deer herds around here. I don’t want the kids to be frightened, but if wolves are going after small pets, you’d better keep a close watch on Scout.”

  “And the kids?”

  “Usually wolves avoid people, but I wouldn’t want them to take any chances.”

  Erin shivered as images of huge, silent creatures flashed in her mind. “Thanks for the warning.”

  She turned to go, but he caught her elbow gently. “Don’t take any chances yourself, either. Promise?”

  “Yes. Of course.”

  “I wish…” His eyes were intent, searching, and for just a moment, she imagined that he was going to move closer and kiss her. Erin felt a thrill race through her that made her knees go weak.

  But then he released her arm and stepped back with a grave smile. “I understand your concern about the hospital…and its patients. But I want you to know that Striker’s autopsy results came back yesterday and were ruled as natural causes. I hadn’t seen the man until he was admitted through the E.R., but he had an appointment with Ed two months ago. All of his prescribed medications were appropriate, and the dosages were correct. None of them could have potentiated or otherwise interfered with the others.”

  “Was he being seen regularly at Hadley’s clinic?”

  “Striker had mild hypertension. A hiatal hernia. Arthritis. Diet-controlled diabetes. Ed carefully followed up on everything.”

  “You think very highly of your uncle,” Erin said.

  “He’s had a long, successful career. He established a free clinic for low-income mothers and babies—one that I’m covering while he’s away. He’s been well thought of by his peers, and he’s not a careless man.”

  Yet she’d found records of several unexpected deaths at the hospital over the past five years. They’d occurred at seemingly random times, without a discernible pattern that might alert hospital officials, except that so far, every patient had been Hadley’s.

  “I understand that you want to defend your uncle, and I can appreciate your loyalty. But I’m just trying to cover all the bases.”

  “And I want to make sure that your…investigation doesn’t harm a good man.” Connor’s voice took on a definite edge. “He doesn’t deserve it, and it’s a damn easy way to ruin a reputation.”

  “I’m not making any wild claims, Connor, and I certainly don’t have a vendetta against anyone.”

  “Before you assume too much, promise that you’ll be careful. And if you need any help, call me.”

  “Fair enough.”

  But if malpractice had occurred, Hadley’s fine reputation wouldn’t matter. Erin owed it to the people of Blackberry Hill to see justice done.

  ON TUESDAY MORNING, Connor pulled into a parking spot in front of the hospital, turned off the motor and rubbed his stubbled face with both hands.

  He’d been called to the hospital the last two nights, and the late hours had taken their toll—hell, last night he’d never even made it back home. Right now, the thought of a good hot shower and then hitting the sack sounded so inviting that it would have been all too easy to throw the Tahoe back into gear and head for home.

  But the box in the back of the vehicle was too important. He’d worked too hard, lost too much sleep, to risk delaying its delivery now.

  He unfolded himself from behind the wheel and stretched, then rounded the back of the Tahoe and opened the tailgate, grabbed the box and strode into the hospital, ignoring the startled receptionist at the front desk and brushing past a nurse’s aide who scuttled out of his way.

  A vaguely familiar form appeared in front of him as he turned down the administrative hallway.

  “Well, well, well.”

  The nasal tone hit Connor like the sound of fingernails scraping down a blackboard, and he nearly lost his grip on the slippery plastic box in his arms as he pulled to a halt. Revulsion snaked through him. “Wayne?”

  “What a surprise.” The younger doctor gave Connor a sweeping glance, from his old running shoes to his faded jeans, then smirked as he met Connor’s eyes. “Doing deliveries now, I take it—of another kind. How appropriate.”

  A dozen sharp replies shot into Connor’s mind, followed by the temptation to ram a fist into Wayne Bloom’s doughy midsection. But a moment of satisfaction would mean assault charges, and the spineless bastard just wasn’t worth it.

  Connor adjusted his grip on the box and stepped around him. “Excuse me.”

  Wayne moved directly into his path. “Excuses.” He tapped his lips with a forefinger. “Interesting choice of words, Reynolds. Do they know about you here? Do they know what you did? Or is that your little secret?”

  Connor glanced over his shoulder. The hallway was deserted. “Tell me, Wayne. What did you get for your ‘efforts’ on my behalf? A nice Rolex? Money? Or did you do it out of the goodness of your heart?”

  Wayne paled, but at the sound of voices coming from far down the hall, he reached up and coolly adjusted his collar. “I did the right thing.”

  Connor lowered his v
oice. “No, you didn’t. And if I’d stayed around to prove it, you would have been in jail.”

  “Really.” Wayne stepped aside and smiled as two nurses walked by. “Funny, but I’d say that entire hospital in Green Bay has a different opinion.”

  “One not based on fact, believe me.” Connor leaned closer. “If you share your stories here, you’ll be hearing from a lawyer. Fast.”

  Wayne’s mouth pursed into a smug smile. “Not my intent, buddy. Not my intent at all. In fact, I hope we will stay in touch. A good idea, don’t you think?”

  His blood still simmering, Connor swore under his breath as he watched the man saunter through the lobby and out the front door. Not his intent—but something was. Connor spun on his heel and headed down the east wing corridor to the nurses’ station. Why had he shown up here?

  Carl Miller looked up from his charting. “Hey, Doctor—what’s up?”

  “I just passed a man in the hallway. Early thirties, maybe. Sandy, thinning hair. Packing an extra twenty pounds of belly. Wire-rims. Do you know what he was doing here?”

  “I asked him that myself, because visiting hours don’t start until nine,” Carl said with a grin. “He said he’d just stopped in town to visit with his Aunt Maude in room 12, but she wasn’t in the mood for company so he didn’t stay long. Knowing Maude, she probably swore at him and sent him packing after the first hello.”

  “Thanks.” So running into him had been a chance encounter, then. Nothing more than that.

  At least, not yet.

  Connor strode to Erin’s office. Rapped once on her door, then walked in and headed straight for her desk.

  Her welcoming smile faded. “What—”

  He dropped the box on her desk, then folded his arms across his chest. “You didn’t want my help, but you’ve got it. Now tell me, where do we start?”

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  ERIN STARED AT THE BOX on her desk, then lifted her startled gaze to the man standing in front of her. Yesterday, she’d heard his laughter and had watched him banter with her children.

  There was no sign of that humor now.

  She stood and ran her fingers across the edges of the hanging files neatly suspended inside the container. “What is this?”

  “You seemed so sure that Ed is guilty of malpractice—”

  “No,” she said quietly. “I’m not sure at all. I’m just checking old records.”

  “But you’ve singled him out, based on just a few cases out of the thousands he’s admitted to this hospital during his career.”

  “He wasn’t even in town when Frank and Milton died, but yes—I’m looking for any possible pattern.”

  “I’ve been researching his old records, and these are photocopies of hospital admissions from 2000 to the present day. The histories and physical summaries. The physician’s order pages and progress notes. In most cases, the labs. With more time, I could go back another five years.”

  He paced to the windows, then back again. “This is, of course, privileged information, but as hospital administrator you have access to all of the originals that have been filed. I just wanted to make it easy to review the overall statistics, so they would be very clear.”

  Erin felt her heart turn over at the hours of work he’d put in to defend his uncle. Connor was really a far different guy than he’d seemed back in college. Had he changed, or had she just failed to recognize him for the person he’d always been?

  “Since I’m here at least once a day seeing patients anyway, let me know when you’re free and maybe I can help you review the records.”

  “I don’t think—”

  “For starters, we could go through these page by page. Together. I’m new here, and I’m not staying, so God knows you won’t find anyone more impartial.”

  At the twinkle in his eye, she couldn’t help but smile back. “Except where Dr. Hadley’s concerned.”

  Connor turned his hands palm up. “If something went wrong in the past, I’m sure he’d want to know about it. So…are you busy right now? Midafternoon? I can’t later, because I promised Drew and Tyler that I’d stop over and show them some fly-fishing techniques tonight. It’s not the season for it, but they wanted to try.”

  “Thank you, but—”

  “In fact, you could have a go, too.” He gave her a disarming grin. “I picked up some smaller rods for the kids, so that size would work for you.”

  “I’m sure the boys will love it, but I’d just be in the way.”

  “Not at all. You could help supervise. It would be safer that way, don’t you think?”

  She frowned, realizing just how neatly he’d cornered her…and just how nice his offer was.

  Time and attention were invaluable, and she knew how little of either Sam had shared with the kids. There’d always been something he’d had to do, someplace he’d had to go, or he’d been glued to a sports channel on the TV.

  She lifted her gaze to meet Connor’s. “I suppose… Just tell me what time and I’ll be ready.”

  At a light tap on the door, she glanced over his shoulder and saw Carl standing there, his brow furrowed. “Yes?”

  “Excuse me—I don’t mean to interrupt your meeting.” He gave Connor a curious look as he walked in and handed him a sealed, business-size envelope. “I didn’t want to miss you before you left.”

  Connor turned the package over. “There’s no name on it. This is for me?”

  “Yeah. You know that stranger you asked about—the man who was wandering the hallway earlier? He just came back and handed this to me. Said it was for you, and had a real attitude about it. He said you needed it right away.”

  Frowning, Connor tapped the envelope against his open palm. “Thanks, Carl. He…mentioned something about getting in touch, though I’m not sure why.”

  “Strange guy. He said he’d been visiting Maude…but when I took in her ten o’clock med, I asked her about him. She may be cranky and forgetful, but I think she’d remember something that happened a few hours earlier. She said she hadn’t had any visitors at all.”

  CONNOR GRIMACED as he thought about Wayne Bloom’s visit this morning.

  Despite what the man had told Carl, he could have strode down the halls with his trademark doctor-as-God style that few staff members would question, caught Maude’s name on the morning’s menu selection form tucked in the file rack outside her door, and then used her name as an excuse to be in the hospital.

  Another doctor in town had admitted her, but Connor had overheard the staff discussing her early-stage Alzheimer’s. Had Wayne actually gone to see her, and had she simply forgotten his visit?

  This was a less troubling scenario, though given the veiled threat in the note he’d left, it was also unlikely. The cryptic message simply read, “Your secret is safe…for now.”

  Connor swore under his breath. There’d certainly been no secrets kept over what happened back at Green Bay General Hospital. It had all been intensely public, from the first move by Stephanie’s father, who’d been chief of staff.

  It had been intentionally public, designed to humiliate Connor and seed doubt about him throughout the medical community. There’d even been articles in the newspaper, albeit small ones tucked back in the community news section.

  Rather than stand and fight, Connor had simply chosen to walk away. Denying Victor Ralston the satisfaction of even greater focus on the situation had seemed like the right decision at the time.

  Maybe that had been a mistake.

  Connor withdrew a handful of fishing rods and a tackle box from the back of his SUV and strode up to Erin’s porch, where she and the children were all sitting on the front steps. “Let’s go down by the stream, okay?”

  “That, um, sure looks like a lot of equipment,” Erin ventured. Lily hurried to catch up to her and then walked beside her, hand in hand. “What do you think, honey—are you going to try?”

  “Not today.”

  The child slid a shy glance at Connor and he smiled back at her, his hear
t too full for him to speak.

  Her snow-blond hair shimmered in the early evening sun and her skin was so fair, her eyes such a startling silver, that she seemed more fairy princess than child—a sugar-spun creature too lovely to be real.

  What had she looked like as a baby? Were there photographs of her back then? At age one? Age two? On her third birthday or fourth? Or had she drifted through the government system without anyone ever bothering to record those precious memories on film?

  The thought filled him with inestimable sadness for what he had lost…and for what she would never have. A history. Someone to lovingly recall her first steps, first words.

  He glanced over her head at Erin, and caught her watching him. “I’m glad you could all come to the stream.” I’m glad Lily came along.

  Erin seemed to read his thoughts. “Lily wanted to join you,” she said lightly. “None of the kids ever want to be left behind if there’s an adventure in store.”

  A dozen yards from the tree-lined bank, Connor stopped and set the rods and tackle box on the ground. “It’s easy to fish like Tom Sawyer, with a big old pole, a fat red-and-white bobber and a hook.” He handed both boys a fly rod. “You plop your bait out in the water and just watch for that bobber to dip.”

  Drew slouched, as if with blatant disinterest, but his gaze never wavered from Connor.

  Tyler nodded, his eyes wide.

  “Another style is spin casting. That’s what we’ll do when I take you guys fishing. You use a lure, and you do a single back cast like this….” Connor picked up a rod and reel from the ground, flipped the tip of the rod behind him, then snapped it forward. “And your lure goes flying far into the lake. Have you seen people do that?”

  Tyler silently shook his head. “No…except maybe on TV.”

  “Drew?”

  Drew gave a sharp jerk of a shoulder.

  “Well, that’s an art in itself, and we’ll fish that way if we go to a lake.” Connor grinned at him. “These ole Wisconsin fish won’t know what hit ’em.”