The Surgeon and the Cowgirl (Harlequin American Romance)
Page 3
“You’re dreaming. I’m sure the surgeon told you that this reconstruction was temporary at best. That knee will need to be replaced. Probably sooner rather than later,” Payson said as he put away his instruments and kept his back to her.
“It works fine for what I do now. I just tweaked it helping Alex. Now, can we get started? The kids are waiting for us,” she said. She went to the door, trying hard not to limp.
Payson followed her outdoors, where children were preparing to mount up. The pony, Molly, trotted around the ring, herding stragglers toward the volunteers and caregivers. The hospital observers stood clear of all the commotion. It took a good fifteen minutes to get the children settled and the therapy started. Even so, there were stops for tears and more than one potty break.
“Is this how the program usually operates? I don’t remember observing this sort of chaos previously,” Payson asked.
“More or less. We’re careful to not push the children too hard. They are fairly new to riding. We don’t want to make them hate it before they discover the joy,” Jessie said.
“There definitely needs to be more structure,” he said as he made a notation.
“I understand why you may think that, but I am trained, you know. I’ve found that—”
“I understand that you took, what, a one-year course?” Payson asked without looking up.
He made it sound as if she didn’t know what she was doing, just like when they’d been married.
He went on as he closed his notebook and looked her in the eye. “I wanted to let you know that I had a meeting this morning before I came out here. There are additional concerns about the program and the affiliation.”
“You mean concerns that you brought up. I should have known there was no way you would give the program a fair evaluation.”
“I’m not any more thrilled about this situation than you are. It has been made completely clear to me that to become director of pediatrics, I’ve got to work with you to get this program ready for an affiliation with the hospital.”
“What the hell does that mean?”
“Jessie, language.”
“I only swear when you’re around.”
“I doubt that,” he said and looked out over the ring. The youngsters rode slowly with big grins on their faces. “I gave a brief report this morning to the committee, and they decided that their involvement needs to be more extensive.”
“Than what? You’re here with who knows how many others. I lost count,” Jessie said.
“I’m going to bottom-line it. The hospital will be overseeing the program while all of the departments do their evaluations and make their recommendations for changes and upgrades to increase efficiency and effectiveness.”
“Payson, please follow me,” Jessie said tightly. She could not have this conversation anywhere near the children because she was going to be yelling and possibly committing murder. When they were fifty feet from the corral, she turned to him. “This is my program. I know I contacted you, but just to ask who I should talk to at the hospital. I never asked for you to take over. You always have to be the one in control, don’t you? You can’t let me do this on my own. It’s just like when we were married. You were always trying to improve things—like telling me I should go to college and diagramming the most economical way to do laundry.”
“Jessie, if I want to be named the director I’ve got to make this program work for the hospital. It’ll be good for you, too. There are a number of departments that are chomping at the bit—pardon the pun—to use your program. It doesn’t hurt that, according to the public relations guy, Hope’s Ride will make the hospital look ‘progressive and forward thinking.’”
“So the children don’t matter? It’s all about image and your promotion? I’m the one in charge here. It’s my program,” she said, hoping she sounded stronger than she felt. Had she hoped he’d come back for her? Not to climb up the hospital rungs?
“Jessie, if you don’t work with me and the others, the hospital will cut off any association. I know a few doctors have given the program a try. They will take away their patients and no one else will refer children to you. It won’t take long for word to get around that there must be something wrong since Desert Valley Hospital won’t refer anyone.”
If she wanted her program to continue, she had to give in. If she were a millionaire, like the members of the hospital’s board, she could tell them to take a flying leap.
“By the way, I did convince the hospital to give you a stipend out of my budget while I run the program.”
“Excuse me. Back up. You’re going to be doing what?”
“I’ll be in charge of Hope’s Ride while the hospital staff is here.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me. You’re going to be my boss?”
Chapter Three
“I won’t exactly be your boss,” Payson said.
“You’re paying me. You’re telling me what to do. Seems like that’s exactly what a boss does,” Jessie fired back.
He was wary because when she was upset, she sometimes acted before she thought. “If you want the hospital to list you as an endorsed program, you’re going to have to accept this condition for now.”
“Fine. I’m sure you’re happy, Dr. Control Freak.”
“If I were your boss, comments like that would get you fired,” he said, only half-joking.
“Good thing that you’re not ‘exactly’ my boss then.”
“Maybe setting some ground rules would help. I’ll give you a written list of the protocols that will need to be followed. That’s not my choice. It’s the hospital’s rules.” He saw her lips go from full to thin and waited for the explosion.
“I understand,” she finally said, not looking any less annoyed but sounding...resigned.
“Great. That’s a start,” he said.
Her capitulation didn’t make him feel like they were on better footing. He didn’t want her program to fail. He’d never wished that anything bad would happen to Jessie—at least, not anymore. The first few months after the divorce, he might have hoped that she’d have to ride rodeo in Siberia.
They talked for a few more minutes. By the end of the conversation, Payson thought there was a good chance that the two of them could work together with minimal conflict. He hoped so, because his future had been firmly tied to Jessie’s by the hospital. “Tomorrow, we’ll plan for the team from physical therapy to observe. They talked about wanting to stay for two weeks, then they’ll make recommendations. At that point, we’ll discuss how to assess the success of those improvements.”
“Improvements? Yeah, I can already see the improvements, like making sure that you don’t let the kids actually near the horses, or filling out useless forms because you want to have documentation.”
“Jessie, there are certain standards that must be met, but I’m sure we can find compromises. That’s why we’re here—to determine the best way to proceed and benefit both of us,” Payson said, wondering if that sounded as pompous as it did in his head.
“Save the bullsh—you know what. I know there’s no use arguing with you. I’ll save it for the therapists. I have a feeling they’ll be more reasonable anyway,” she said and went on before he could protest. “I’d like to set up an orientation for all of your staff. I know they know their jobs but most won’t have worked around horses. Even my volunteers who are horse people have to go through orientation. It keeps everyone safe. Why don’t you join the first group—that’ll let everyone know how important it is.”
Was she suggesting that he wasn’t taking the collaboration seriously? “Absolutely,” he said. “Administration 101—lead by example.”
“Yeah, I guess,” she said, looking at him oddly.
In the spirit of working together, he didn’t comment. He didn’t have the time anyway. They were largely
silent as they headed to his Range Rover, when Jessie said tentatively, “Alex’s next therapy session might be a good chance for you to observe.”
He paused and wondered if this was a Jessie-style olive branch. “I’ll have to check my schedule.”
“Great. See you at orientation,” she said.
“See you then,” he said. They stood by his SUV. Jessie scuffed the dirt with her boot. Should he shake her hand? No. Even that small contact would stay with him the rest of the day, making him aware that his physical desire for her—and that’s all it was, he assured himself—hadn’t gotten the memo about the divorce and the three years apart. He did wave as he bumped down the lane.
* * *
“EVERYTHING’S FINE, MAMA,” Jessie said patiently into her cell. “The hospital is really happy with the program. It won’t take long for them to give me the okay.”
“If you need money, you let Daddy and me know,” her mother said.
Jessie would only accept more money if the horses were going hungry. Her parents and everyone else had already helped her so much—she couldn’t ask them for anything more. “I’m good, Mama.”
“Are you sure? I know it’s gotta be tough working with Payson. I know how badly he hurt you,” her mother said, a tsk in her voice. Her mother had been equally disappointed with Jessie and Payson when the marriage had ended.
Jessie didn’t want to talk about what had happened. She’d let go of the sadness and the resentment—she’d been sure—or she’d never have called Payson about Hope’s Ride. Since he’d shown up, she’d been replaying their marriage, both good and bad. It all got on her last nerve. “Mama, Payson and I are doing fine. This is about Hope’s Ride and him moving up at the hospital. It’s just business.”
“Mm-hmm,” her mother said. “I’m not too partial to those TV advice doctors, but you know they’re always asking people, ‘How will that work for you?’ So, how do you think that’s going to work?”
“I told you, it’s business.”
“That’s what you said. But, really, darlin’, how can it ever be strictly business between the two of you?”
“We’re divorced, Mama. That’s all there is.”
“You know how I feel about that divorce,” her mama said, “but that horse left the barn years ago. Do you think this is your chance to settle things between you? You know, talk about—”
“We are not talking about the past. That’s over. This is about Hope’s Ride.”
“Is it in the past? Why did you call Payson in the first place?”
Jessie knew this answer. “Because he works at the best pediatric hospital in the valley.”
“Mmm-hmm. What about that teaching hospital that was looking for programs that use alternative therapies? I remember Daddy tellin’ you about it. He saw it on the news.”
“Desert Valley is better,” Jessie said stubbornly.
“Darlin’, that may be true, too, but that’s not why you called Payson.”
“It’s the only reason, Mama. Hope’s Ride needs to be endorsed by and affiliated with only the best hospital. Plus a lot of my kids have doctors there.”
“And at every other hospital in the valley. You are a very smart girl. Even you should be able to figure out why you called on Payson when you were in trouble.”
“It’s business, Mama,” Jessie said, and even she could hear the desperation in her voice. Business was the only reason. She was over Payson. She was the one who’d filed for the divorce, for goodness’ sake. “Having Desert Valley’s stamp of approval will give me a cushion and let me expand in a few years, branch out to help more children.”
“Any hospital could have given you that cushion.”
“Mama, I have to go. I have orientation for the hospital staff today, and then we’ve got a full day of therapy,” Jessie broke in.
Her mother gave a gusty sigh. “Baby girl, you know I love you no matter what. But I swear you and Payson need your heads knocked together. Just business. Not likely. Now, you go and get to work.”
It was hard to get her mother’s voice out of her thoughts. In the dark days when Jessie had been considering divorce, Mama had counseled against it. Instead, she said that Jessie and Payson needed to talk and maybe see a professional. Jessie had tried to follow that advice, but it didn’t help that when they could actually find time to talk, one of them was always tired and distracted. Their discussions quickly broke down into hurtful fights.
Then Jessie stopped asking her mama for advice and went to visit a divorce lawyer. She had just wanted the pain to end. Perhaps now she could admit that, as she signed her name to the papers, Jessie had known that she and Payson still had unfinished business.
* * *
“I THINK THAT went well,” Jessie said to Payson as they ended the orientation later in the day. “Even you seemed comfortable around the horses.”
“Why are you so surprised? It wasn’t like it was the first time I was ever around a horse,” he said, giving her a lowered-brow look that was supposed to intimidate her.
“Dr. Mac.” Alex’s little-boy voice carried easily from where he was getting out of his mother’s car and into his wheelchair, which was a sure sign that Alex was having a bad day. “Dr. Mac. You came to see me ride.” He bounced in his seat and a grin stretched across his face. His brush with near disaster hadn’t dampened his enthusiasm for the horses.
“Sure thing, buddy,” Payson said.
Jessie was surprised. He’d told her that he was leaving right after the orientation session because he had a stack of paperwork back at the hospital. She’d been relieved. Without him around, she didn’t have to think of the interrupted conversations that she knew they needed to continue. Even in the face of Alex’s excitement, a part of her wanted to tell Payson to go—the part that recalled vividly every caress they had ever shared and the part that still got disconcertingly hot and bothered when their arms accidentally brushed or he stood near enough for her to catch the fresh scent of his shaving cream. She said nothing.
“I get to feed Molly her apple today. Miss Jessie promised. ’Member I didn’t get to before when you were here and then Mommy wouldn’t let me come and now Mommy said this is the last time I’m coming to see Molly, so I gotta give her the apple.”
“Your last time?” Payson asked quietly.
Alex pulled on Payson’s arm to get him to lean closer and whispered in a voice that still carried to Jessie. “Mommy said that I couldn’t come anymore ’cause they said that there wasn’t no more money for riding.”
Jessie looked at the little boy’s mother and saw her eyes swimming in tears. “Come on, Alex,” Jessie said, getting behind his wheelchair. “We’ve been waiting for you. You ready to ride?”
“Yep,” Alex said.
“Are you sure? You got your boots?”
He stretched out a foot. “Yep,” he said. This was a game that he and Jessie sometimes played.
“What about jeans? You got your riding jeans on?”
“Yep. Mommy forgot to wash them, but they don’t stink too bad.”
Jessie leaned over and took a deep sniff. “I don’t know. You smell like...road apples,” she said with a grin.
“Miss Jessie, what’s that? Is that the kind of apple that Molly likes?” Alex asked.
Jessie hesitated, looking back at Payson to see if he’d heard the exchange. He was in deep conversation with Alex’s mother. It didn’t really matter if he’d heard, she told herself, because Payson wouldn’t remember her teasing him about road apples and how it had led to their first date. She was the only one who kept being blindsided by memories of their time together.
Jessie couldn’t stop her smile as she explained to Alex that “road apples” was a different way to say horse poop.
He giggled. “Horse doody don’t look like apples.”
* * *
PAYSON WATCHED ALEX find his body’s center as Jessie placed him on a small horse for his therapy session. He was beaming. Obviously, sitting on a horse was better than anything that even Santa could’ve brought him. Payson had spoken with Karin about Alex’s comments and discovered the foundation that had been covering the cost of the therapy had to make some tough decisions about what they would fund. Alex and his riding hadn’t made the cut.
While Payson may not have been completely convinced of riding’s therapeutic outcomes, he could see that there was a psychological benefit in Alex’s case. Recently, the little boy had been more positive about his limitations and even more willing to do his conventional therapy. Payson needed actual research before formally agreeing that Hope’s Ride made a difference for patients’ physical recovery and progress, but in some very specific cases, he could see that the therapy did influence outlook and attitude. The question was whether that improvement made the program worthy of affiliation with a hospital like Desert Valley. If it did, money situations such as Alex’s would likely go away.
“Let me give the foundation a call,” Payson had finally told Karin as tears streaked down her face. “I’m not promising anything, but maybe I can give them the assurance they need.”
“Dr. MacCormack, if you call them, I know they won’t say no.”
“I don’t know about that, but I’ll certainly see what I can do,” he said, and then asked her questions about Alex’s recent regression to the wheelchair. He hadn’t seen anything on the X-rays after the boy’s fall and nearly getting run over by the horse, but Payson worried there was something that had not shown up immediately. Karin explained that Alex had insisted on the chair because he wanted to save all of his strength for the riding and for feeding Molly. Payson had to smile at Alex’s determination to figure out how to work around his illness with as little fuss as possible. Once again, he had to admit that his patient’s improved attitude could be attributed to Hope’s Ride.