by Debbie Mason
His father made a face like he’d been caught and set his half-eaten sandwich on the dining room table. Walking to the couch, he extended a hand to Finn, who’d been struggling to come to his feet. “You’re not ready to go back, son. You’re champing at the bit because you have nothing to do and you’re bored. Just hear them out. It’d be good for you and the town.”
Finn wouldn’t hurt his dad’s feelings by telling him his need to leave Harmony Harbor didn’t stem from only boredom or because his family drove him nuts on occasion, which they did. He knew he’d won the lottery in the family department. He loved them. He just didn’t feel like he fit in anymore. Everything seemed different. His years with Doctors Without Borders had changed his perception of things. So did losing his mom and sister.
His father walked to the front door, adding, “You know, Finn, your brothers had no intention of moving home and look how well it worked out for them.”
Finn considered his chance of escaping. Obviously, the front door was out. He didn’t trust one of the older women not to tackle him. Sneaking out a bedroom window like he used to as a kid was not in the cards either. The house was situated above the harbor, a steep and perilous descent to the rocky shores below. His days of playing Tarzan and Spider-Man were over.
The reminder evoked a sharp stab of pain in his chest. It wasn’t easy acknowledging that his active lifestyle was limited by his injuries. Then again, no one knew better than he did how much worse it could have been.
As his dad opened the door, Finn lowered himself onto the couch and picked up his cell phone. He texted Griffin and Liam. Get your asses to Dad’s. I need backup. STAT.
Both his brothers had the day off, and unlike their father, they’d have his back and not Grams’s. Though he was beginning to think his dad had an agenda, too, and it conformed with Finn’s grandmother’s. Good thing he could count on his brothers. Just because things had worked out well for Liam and Griff didn’t mean they’d expect him to stick around. They understood his passion for working with DWB, his need to make a difference. They got that he was addicted to the rush and the adventure and thrived on the challenge, cherishing his independence and freedom.
But when his brothers walked through the front door, Finn had a feeling he’d misjudged their loyalty. The first sign he was in trouble was the triumphant look his grandmother shared with two of her fellow club members when Liam arrived with eight-year-old Mia in tow and Griffin with two-month-old baby Gabe. Grams was obviously counting on Finn’s niece and nephew to win him over.
But more than that, she was probably hoping the kids would curb his surly attitude. Finn didn’t like to be backed in a corner and they’d been doing their best to put him in one. So far, he’d managed to escape their emotional manipulations.
Looking down at Mia, who wriggled her jean-clad butt in beside him on the couch, he figured that wasn’t going to last much longer. She smiled up at him, and he sighed. It was hard not to see Riley in Mia’s pretty, heart-shaped face. His little sister hadn’t been much older than Mia when she died.
They shared the same bright blue eyes and long, wavy chestnut brown hair. Finn imagined that Liam hoped Mia had inherited Riley’s talent for wrapping the Gallagher brothers around her baby finger. Whatever Riley had wanted, she’d gotten.
If he had any doubt that was the plan, Mia cleared it up when she glanced at his dad and then lifted her forlorn gaze to Finn. “I don’t want you to go back to the place where you got shot.”
He sent his family a you’ve-got-to-be-kidding-me look before trying to reassure his niece. “They wouldn’t let us go back if it wasn’t safe, sweetheart. I’ll be fine. Who’s going to help all those little kids if I don’t go back?”
“Who’s going to look after the little kids in Harmony Harbor if you don’t stay? My mommy’s having a baby, you know. And me, Daddy, and Granddad are really worried about that. Maybe you could just stay until the baby comes? It’s only a few months away.”
It was May. The baby wasn’t due until early October. “Your mommy and the baby are doing great. And Doc Bishop isn’t going anywhere until someone replaces him. Even if he did, the hospital’s not far—”
She cut him off with a crooked finger. When he leaned in, she whispered in his ear, “Granddad and Great-Grandma Kitty are getting old.”
He didn’t want to admit it, but she got to him big-time with that one. His dad and Grams weren’t getting any younger. The loss of his great-grandmother Colleen late last year had reminded him how quickly time went by. He’d been shocked to realize he hadn’t seen her in more than two years, hadn’t seen any of them. He wasn’t even able to make it home for GG’s funeral. Whether his family believed him or not, it wasn’t easy being away from home and missing out on so much. Only there were two sides to that coin. Sometimes it was just as hard to be here.
The reminder helped him hold strong against his adorable niece, who was now happily smiling up at him while covertly giving her dad a thumbs-up. Finn, behind Mia’s back, gave his brother the thumbs-down.
His father, catching the exchange, gave his head a resigned shake. “Come on, Mia mine, let’s take Miller for a quick walk before Granddad has to get back to work. You’re welcome to join us, ladies.”
Finn waited for his grandmother and the Widows Club to take the hint and leave. They didn’t. But Griff, who up until now had stayed quiet, took care of that. “Hey, Grams, would you and the ladies mind changing Gabe for me? I haven’t quite gotten the hang of it. There’s a bottle in the bag. I think he might be hungry,” he said, passing the diaper bag to Mrs. Fitzgerald and buzzing the baby’s cheek before he handed him to Kitty.
Enamored as they all were with Gabe, the women didn’t protest and headed up the short flight of stairs to the second level. Without his grandmother and the Widows Club to harass him, Finn might have relaxed if he didn’t know his brother as well as he did. Griff got rid of the women for a reason.
Finn was about to open his mouth to tell his brother not to waste his breath when Griff quietly said, “If you could stay until September, I’d appreciate it. For Lexi’s sake. I know I can call you anytime, but having you here while she goes through the rest of her treatment gives me peace of mind. I need you here, little brother, and so does she.”
And that was how Finn found himself, two days later, at the clinic on Primrose Lane, wondering what the hell he’d gotten himself into.
In the seven and half hours he’d been there, he’d seen forty-five patients. Only five of whom actually had something physically wrong with them. All five were female and under the age of sixteen. As far as he could tell, not one of them was interested in marrying him.
The other forty had nothing wrong with them. And, as far as he could tell, were very interested in marrying him. If they weren’t, their grandmothers and mothers were. Interested in him marrying their daughters and granddaughters, that is.
At the beginning of the day, it was kind of amusing, even a little flattering. But by ten forty-five it had gotten old and annoying. It didn’t help that he kept thinking of the patients he saw while working with DWB. Those people needed him, desperately. They weren’t fake coughing or complaining about phantom chest pains. They were sick and hungry, wounded and scared. They weren’t spoiled and whiny and ungrateful.
He winced at his unflattering characterizations and intolerance. While there was some truth to his observations, the throbbing ache in his leg was making him grumpy. Knowing his father had been right and Finn wasn’t ready to go back to the Congo wasn’t doing much to improve his mood.
Sherry, Doc Bishop’s nurse and a woman Finn had dated in high school, opened the door to the closet-sized office. She was pretty in a fresh-scrubbed kind of way with rosy cheeks, dark eyes, and long, dark hair held back in a low ponytail. More importantly, she showed signs of being an excellent nurse. There was just one problem. She wasn’t married and wanted to be. “Pain hasn’t let up, has it?” she asked with a compassionate smile.
“
I’m good. Just had to return a couple of phone calls.” He set down the cold cup of coffee he hadn’t had a chance to drink, removed the ice pack from his knee, and surreptitiously hid it behind the welcome-to-the-clinic plant from the staff, which Finn now mentally referred to as the matchmaking clinic from hell. He pushed to his feet with a closed-mouth smile that hopefully hid his clenched teeth from Sherry’s observant gaze.
“Really? I rescheduled Molly, Sally, and Karen’s physicals to tomorrow, but if you’re okay to see—”
“No, tomorrow’s good. On second thought, why don’t you schedule them with Doc Bishop? They’ve been going to him for twenty years. I’m sure they’d be more comfortable—”
“They would be or you would?” she said with a laugh, and then proceeded to share way too much information about all three women before adding, “Dr. Bishop won’t be in tomorrow. Mrs. Fitzgerald invited him to make up a foursome, remember?”
Finn rubbed his jaw. “I’m not sure that’s something you should share—”
She made a ha-snort sound and then cuffed him on the shoulder. “Not that kind of foursome, silly. They’re playing golf.” She ha-snorted again. “It’s no wonder that’s where your mind went after the offers you’ve had today. Kerry will get a good laugh over that one.”
If Sherry had her master’s in gossip, Kerry, the receptionist, had her PhD. Finn figured he’d provided them with enough to talk about for a month at least. He lifted his chin in the direction of the examination rooms. There were five. “Who’s next?”
“I cleared out the waiting room of all but legit complaints, so you only have four. Patient number one won’t take long. She just needs her script renewed.” She handed him a file.
He looked at the name and handed it back. “Might be better if Doc Bishop sees Ms. Templeton.”
“He left early. Mrs. DiRossi invited him for dinner, and I think he wanted to get spiffed up.” Sherry frowned and looked from Finn to examination room number one. “Is there a reason you don’t want to see Dana?”
Chapter Six
Olivia moved from the chair to the examination table. Smoothing her white linen skirt over her thighs, she carried on a pleasant conversation with Dr. Bishop in her head. It became less pleasant when she went from talking about the weather to the reason she was there.
She’d taken the last of her antianxiety medication three days before. Talking to Stanley on Mother’s Day had broken the dam that held back a tidal wave of hurtful emotions and painful memories. Now she was drowning in them. She needed something to help her shut down the crippling panic. An anguished sob broke in her throat at the thought of what Stanley expected from her. She pressed a fist to her mouth to keep the sound from escaping.
In for four, hold for seven, out for eight, she told herself. It took a few moments of controlled breathing for her pulse to slow. Once it did, she felt a little light-headed and weak and stretched out on the examination table.
She held up her phone to check the time, wondering what was keeping Dr. Bishop. It was just a simple prescription renewal. An anxious knot tightened in her chest. What if he wanted to know why she needed the pills? What if she had to tell him about the whole sordid affair? She’d be a babbling basket case if she told him what was actually going on.
Surely he would just give her the prescription with no questions asked. He was a lovely man, kind and warm. He wouldn’t embarrass or shame her or make her feel weak. It wasn’t as if she had a problem. It wasn’t like she visited the clinic every few weeks asking for more. The only time Dr. Bishop had renewed her prescriptions for temazepam and lorazepam was her first week in Harmony Harbor, so of course he wouldn’t question her. She was getting herself worked up for nothing.
She looked up at the buzzing fluorescent light, closing her eyes against the brightness. The sterile, white room reminded her of the hospital, and she began redecorating it in her mind. But as she lay there daydreaming of a calming color scheme—imagining the ceiling painted powder blue and decorated with marshmallow clouds—her breathing slowed, her sleep-deprived body growing heavy and relaxed. The colors melded together, and the buzzing faded to a peaceful hum. She uttered a silent hallelujah just before falling asleep.
“Olivia.”
No, no, no, she inwardly cried at the deep voice intruding on her sleep. “Go away,” she said aloud, her thick tongue garbling the words. She turned on her side.
“Olivia, wake up. You’re at the clinic.”
She blinked open her eyes and stared at the white wall. That voice sounded disturbingly familiar. She glanced over her shoulder and uttered a mortified groan. Finn Gallagher stood behind her wearing a powder-blue button-down shirt that did amazing things to his eyes and was just as flattering to his broad chest. At the sight of the stethoscope around his neck, her absolute worst fears were confirmed, and she quickly flipped onto her back to get up…and slid on the paper and off the table. She would have landed on the floor if Finn hadn’t reached out to grab her. His handsome face contorted with a pained grimace as he bore the burden of her weight.
Her cheeks warmed. “I’m so sorry. I’ll just…” She couldn’t believe she’d hurt him again. Obviously, she couldn’t be in the same room with the man. And that was completely fine with her, because the last person she wanted to ask to renew her prescription was Dr. Judgy himself. An image of her spinning his wheelchair on the patio came to mind. She had a lot of nerve criticizing him.
Half hanging on the table and half in his arms, she hurriedly slid her feet to solid ground and stood. Only she hadn’t factored in how close they were standing, and the movement sent him back on his heels.
“Oh no.” She grabbed his stethoscope to keep him from falling backward. It’s possible she was a little overzealous in her effort to save him because the drum came off in her hand. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to break…” She winced as the tubing snapped free and sprang up to slap him in the face.
Finn stared at her and then gave his head a slow shake as if unable to believe what had just happened.
“I know, crazy, right?” Olivia said with a little laugh, trying to make light of it as she handed him the drum.
He didn’t laugh.
Her smile fell. “Can you not move?” She went to grab the wheeled stool for him.
“Stop. Please don’t try and do me any favors, okay? Stay right where you are.” Keeping an eye on her, he moved slowly backward and then reached behind him for the stool. She winced as he carefully lowered himself onto it. He pointed to the chair against the wall. “It might be less dangerous if you sat closer to the floor.”
“Thank you, but I’m here to see Dr. Bishop. So I can wait in the—”
“You’ll be waiting awhile. He’s left for the day.” Finn took a pair of black-framed glasses out of his breast pocket. He put them on while swiveling to the open laptop on the counter beside the small hand sink. After he’d typed something on the keyboard, he glanced at her with his eyebrows raised. “Sherry said you were looking to have a script renewed.”
It was a little disconcerting to see Finn wearing glasses. Of course he looked just as gorgeous, but he looked older and more serious too. Because she was distracted, it took a moment for her to register the hint of censure in his smooth voice. Once she did, she picked up her red purse from the chair. “It’s all right. I’ll come back when Dr. Bishop’s in.”
Finn stretched out his legs, crossed an arm over his chest, and tapped his thumb against his full bottom lip while keeping his probing gaze on her.
She should have left before he opened his mouth. All she had to do was look at his arrogant pose to know what would come out of it.
“It won’t do you any good, Olivia. I’m going to recommend that Dr. Bishop not renew or write you any further scripts for opioids, sleeping pills, or antianxiety meds.”
She stared at him, stunned. That was far worse than what she expected him to say. “You’re making me sound like a drug addict. I’ve never been prescribed opioids.”
He turned the computer screen. “Dr. Bishop prescribed Percocet, an opioid, for you last December.”
“I know what an opioid is. And Dr. Bishop prescribed Percocet for me because I broke my wrist when the carriage house burned down. I’m sure that’s on there as well as the only two other prescriptions he wrote for me. Last September. Months ago. Hardly the pattern of an addict, wouldn’t you agree?”
“I would, if I hadn’t seen what I did on Mother’s Day. You were dangerously high. Your behavior was erratic.”
Panic seized the muscles in her chest, and not just because everything he said was true. She was afraid he’d follow through on his threat. She couldn’t keep going on little to no sleep. She had to tell him something to make him understand. “I was upset.”
“We all get upset, Olivia. But we don’t all turn to drugs and booze when we do. That type of behavior indicates there’s a problem, don’t you think?”
“Yes, of course it does. But this isn’t an everyday occurrence, and it certainly wasn’t an everyday stressor. I’m an event planner. I deal with problems all the time, and I don’t need to take a pill or have a drink. I don’t,” she said defensively when he raised an eyebrow. “You don’t know me. You have no idea what I’m dealing with.”
The chiseled angles of his face softened. “I do. I know you lost your son and your husband within a year of each other. I’m sorry, Olivia. I truly am sorry for your loss. But that alone doesn’t mean I’ll turn a blind eye to your problem.”
“I don’t have a problem!” She briefly closed her eyes, embarrassed that she’d lost her temper. “I just need something to help me get through the next couple of weeks. I’m not sleeping and—”
“No, I’m sorry. I can’t. But I’m here and so is Doc Bishop whenever you need to talk. And when you’re ready, I have a list of support groups, and there’s a couple of facilities I can recommend. But, Olivia, you won’t be getting any prescription drugs here or at any other clinic or pharmacy in the area.”