by Unknown
They trooped up to the house and ate, and still Alex waited for an opportunity to have a private word with Cameron. It didn't come. As soon as the meal was over, David said, "Hey, Cam, c'mon out and have a look at the relic. There's a knock in the engine I can't seem to locate."
"Sure thing, and then I'll have to be getting back to the office. Bye, Alex."
He reached for her, but she avoided his embrace.
ON TUESDAY AND WEDNESDAY, Alex awoke with a feeling of absolute dread in the pit of her stomach. She'd always bounded out of bed, filled with enthusiasm for her job. Now, she had to force herself to get up and go to work. She dreaded the encounters with King that were inevitable in an area as small as the clinic, but hardest of all to bear were the empty hours spent in her office, dutifully reading medical journals she'd never had time to do more than glance at before, waiting for patients who didn't materialize.
Each morning, she walked into the clinic to find people sitting on the chairs, already waiting for King. She came to hate the sympathetic expression on Ruthie's face and the slight shake of her head, indicating there was no one for Alex to see.
Thursday morning, however, Ruthie's smile was wide. "Mrs. Townsend and the baby are waiting in your office,
Doctor," she chirped. "And you have an eleven and a one o'clock appointment, and another at three."
"Heavens!" Alex clasped her hands together in mock horror. "How will I ever find time for lunch?"
Ruthie laughed, and Alex hurried eagerly down the hall to her office.
Nancy, holding a peacefully sleeping Jason, beamed at Alex when she came through the door.
"Nancy, it's great to see you. And how's our big boy doing?" Alex took the baby, loving the warm, fragrant feel of him in her arms. He looked a little pale and drawn, but relaxed and complacent, and the mark on his head where she'd inserted the IV was already covered with a healthy-looking scab.
"Oh, Alex, he's a different baby. He's so contented, he just eats and eats and then sleeps. I actually wake him up sometimes just to make sure he's okay. And he smiled at me for the first time this morning when I was changing him." She looked from her baby over at Alex, and there were tears in her eyes. "We can't ever thank you enough for what you did for us. I'm convinced Jason would have died if it hadn't been for you. I've told everybody I know what a great doctor you are. I feel like taking out an ad in the paper."
"Better not. I'd probably face bribery charges." Alex was embarrassed, but the praise was sweet balm for her battered ego right now. "Let's just take this handsome fellow into the examining room and see how his incision's doing."
Jason startled and woke as Alex undressed him. He pouted a little, but he didn't cry when she unfastened his clothing and removed the small dressing covering the surgical site.
"This looks just fine, Nancy. Keep it clean and dry, and by the look of it, he'll be totally healed in another week." She changed the dressing and replaced the tiny clothes, then cradled the little boy against her for a long, satisfying moment before she reluctantly handed him back to his mother.
"He's pretty special, this fellow," she said with a grin. "He's my very first patient here in Korbin Lake."
Nancy nodded. "Greg and I talked it over, and we'd like you to be our family doctor from now on, Alex. I'd never go back to Doctor King after what happened." She shook her head and shuddered. "You know, I saw him on the street yesterday, and he barely even said hello, much less asked me how Jason's doing."
King wasn't saying so much as hello to Alex, but she didn't mention it. It would be unprofessional for her to talk about King to Nancy, but fortunately it didn't work the other way.
"I wrote Doc King a letter the minute I got home, you know, telling him we were going to be your patients from now on and why, as if he couldn't guess. If that's all right with you, of course?"
King probably hyperventilated, Alex thought with grim satisfaction. "I'm absolutely delighted to have the Townsend family as my patients," she said with a wide smile.
"Good. Because I need some advice right away about dieting." Nancy grimaced and indicated her stomach and hips. "What do you suggest I do about this weight, Alec? I gained ten pounds each time I lost a baby, and then with Jason, I really went over the top. I'm ashamed to admit it, but I'm about fifty pounds over what I was when Greg and I got married. I'd sure like to lose it, but each time I manage to go down even five pounds, I gain it right back again."
"First we'll make sure there's no medical problem causing it." For the next half hour, Alex did a thorough physical, taking blood and urine samples to rule out any medical reason for the weight gain. Then she counseled Nancy about a low-fat, high-fiber diet, suggesting she eat seven small meals each day instead of three large ones and set aside time every day for a long walk with Jason. "A combination of exercise and frequent low-fat meals will do it, you watch and see," she reassured the other woman.
Nancy's gratitude was heartwarming. When she left, there was plenty of time before her next patient, so Alex strolled next door to the hospital lab with the specimens she wanted tests run on.
"Hey, Alex, how's it going?" Becky Jones was just coming out of a patient's room, and she flashed her wide, friendly smile.
They were alone in the hallway, and for some reason, Alex chose not to make the customary automatic response—that everything was just great.
"To tell you the truth, this is the first day this week I haven't seriously considered drowning myself in the lake," she said impulsively. "I've actually got three appointments today. That's about the same number I've had all week long."
"So business has already increased a hundred percent. You're on a roll," Becky teased, but there was understanding in her eyes. "Thing'U get better, you wait and see. Look, we're having a little party over here later today for Gram. It's her seventy-seventh birthday. You wanna pop over later for some cake and coffee?"
"I'd love to. How's she doing? Did she get the sweater finished?"
"Yeah." A shadow passed over Becky's delicate features. "She's finished the sweater, but she's not doing too
well. We'd hoped she was going to get home for her birthday, but it wasn't possible. Anyhow, come to her room at about four-thirty."
"Sounds good. I'll be there."
"Great. You can meet Emily. She's going to model the sweater."
"I'll look forward to it." A buzzer rang insistently and Becky waved and hurried off. Alex walked outside and made her way along the sidewalk that led to the clinic, feeling more optimistic than she'd felt in days.
As the afternoon progressed, her spirits rose even more. Her day turned out to be almost busy; besides the three booked appointments and Nancy's visit, she saw four other patients: three newcomers to the community and one middle-aged woman. Etta Krantz, a longtime patient of King's, wanted a second opinion on estrogen-replacement therapy for menopause.
King had apparently told Etta he didn't recommend it— there was a history of breast cancer in her family. Feeling enormously relieved that she wouldn't have to disagree once again with King's diagnosis, Alex spent an hour explaining why. She sent Etta home with a list of reading material on menopause and several suggestions about alternate, more natural ways of controlling her annoying symptoms, including vitamin supplements and some herbal remedies Alex was familiar with.
Etta thanked her and left, and Alex went down the hall to get a coffee, taking it back to her desk. She was trying to decide what color to paint her office, and she had a selection of color chips from the hardware store spread out in front of her. She slipped off her shoes and propped her bare feet up beside the telephone, sipping her coffee and studying the samples.
There was a tap on the door, and thinking it was Ruthie, she called out, "Come on in."
"Hello there." Daniel Brandt stepped through the door.
Alex swung her feet off the desk like a child who'd been caught at mischief, and managed to upset her coffee in the process.
"Damn." She grabbed at a roll of paper tow
els to mop up the mess, and he knelt down beside her, dabbing away at coffee stains.
She looked at him and found that he was laughing, and she had to laugh, too. "Protestant work ethic," she said ruefully. "Makes for a guilty conscience over the darnedest things."
"Yeah. When I first got here, I used to have a panic attack if someone I knew saw me strolling down the street at ten in the morning. I expected them to shake their finger under my nose and say, 'Why aren't you gainfully employed, young man?'"
He got to his feet and she did, too. "Sit down, Daniel. I don't suppose you want a coffee of your own to spill?"
"Thanks, I'll pass on the coffee." He sat, relaxed and easy, one long denim-clad leg propped on the other knee. He looked around the office. "Nice place you got here. Minimalist decorating. I like that." His gray eyes sparkled with humor.
Alex laughed. "Actually, I was just trying to decide what color to paint it. What d'ya think?" She held out the color chips.
He considered them. "Not beige. Or mushroom. Everybody seems to be doing walls mushroom these days." He went through the chips and chose a bright, cheery red. "How about this? You'd never have to worry about bloodstains that way."
"You're no help at all, and you're also a trifle ghoulish."
"Why is it no one appreciates my practical nature? And speaking of practical—" he dug into the pocket of his shirt and put a beeper on her desk "—this was my excuse for coming by."
"Thanks. I appreciate it."
"Not half as much as we do. We'll try not to call on you unless it's something we absolutely can't handle."
"Hey, call me. I don't mind. At the moment, I'm not exactly overworked anyway."
"You're going to be. It just takes time in a small town for people to change their ideas. Hell, there's still the odd dinosaur to contend with here in Korbin Lake." He winked.
It dawned on Alex that Daniel was probably well aware of the situation here at the clinic with King. Working on the ambulance service, he'd know King well and also hear all the gossip that was a part of being around any hospital.
She remembered that he'd been a lawyer. "Do you ever miss the courtroom, the excitement of criminal law, Daniel?" The way I miss theER at St. Joe's?
"I did for the first few months, yeah. I was hooked on the adrenaline rush you get in a courtroom, I guess. It takes a while to get over." He looked at her for a long moment. "You miss the city, huh?"
She nodded. He was easy to talk to. "It's a big adjustment, coming here. I'm sure I'll get used to it, but—"
To her absolute horror, she felt her eyes fill with tears. She ducked her head to hide them.
"You've got a tricky situation here, Alex." His voice was warm and intimate and filled with sympathy. "People get set in their ways when they get older. They're not open to new ideas or to the fact that maybe it's past time to step down." He didn't mention King's name, but they both knew what he meant. "If I can ever be of any help, even just to listen, call me." He reached for her prescription pad and scribbled down his home number and then got to his feet. "Gotta go." He tapped the beeper he'd set on her desk. "We sure appreciate you offering to carry this."
"Thanks, Daniel." She had the feeling she was thanking him for more than the beeper.
He paused with his hand on the doorknob. "About those color chips, Alex. Maybe get a second opinion. Unfortunately, I'm color-blind."
He left, and she laughed outright. Daniel Brandt was funny and kind, and both those traits were what she needed just now. Trouble was, she needed them from Cameron instead of Daniel Brandt.
But she was still smiling a short while later when she hurried into the hospital and down the corridor to Winifred Lawrence's room. She'd driven to the small nearby shopping mall a few minutes before and pondered over what she could bring the old woman, deciding finally on a pretty porcelain container of hand-and-body lotion. She'd had the clerk tie a huge red ribbon on the bottle, and she'd chosen a funny birthday card, as well.
She paused in the doorway, suddenly shy. The room was filled with a mixture of hospital personnel and visitors. A huge homemade chocolate cake sat on Winifred's bedside table along with a stack of cards. Her bed was littered with small and large packages in pretty satchels or wrapped in bright paper. The tiny old woman was obviously weaker and even more frail-looking than when Alex had first met her. Each breath was an effort, in spite of the oxygen she was receiving, but her wrinkled face was wreathed in smiles and her bright eyes shone with happiness and excitement.
A tiny girl in a white ruffled dress and the blue sweater Winifred had made was sitting on the end of the bed, her back to Alex.
"Hey, come on in. Glad you could make it." Becky quickly introduced some of the hospital staff whom Alex didn't know.
Still feeling a little awkward, she moved to the bedside to place her gift with the others. She touched the old woman's hand and smiled down at her. "Happy birthday, Winifred. You probably don't remember me. I'm—"
"Doctor Alex," Winifred wheezed, smiling and nodding up at Alex. " 'Course I remember. Couldn't forget such a pretty face. I was just sewing up Emily's sweater when Becky introduced us the other day. Emily, honey, say hi to the new doctor."
Alex turned to the child with a wide smile, and shock rippled through every nerve ending. Emily had the distinctive slanted eyes, rounded face and protruding tongue of a child with Down's syndrome.
"This is my daughter, Emily," Becky said, and Alex reached out and gently took the tiny girl's hand in her own, crouching down so that she would be at the child's eye level.
"Hiya, Emily. Hey, don't you look pretty in your new sweater. Did Great-Grandma make you that?"
The little girl stared up at Alex for a long moment. Then a wide, happy grin lit up her features and she stretched her arms up in a plea to be held.
"C'mon, then." Alex scooped her up, and Emily's arms snaked around her neck, her head flopping on
Alex's shoulder, her mouth pressed into Alex's neck, breath wet and warm and fragrant.
"Well," Becky said with a note of surprise in her voice. "Seems you've made a conquest, Alex. She's not always that responsive to strangers."
"We're soul mates," Alex said lightly, cuddling the child against her. "Besides, she likes my perfume."
Everyone laughed and then called greetings to two new arrivals who'd just appeared in the doorway. One carried a cardboard box filled with sandwiches and the other a flat tray of fancy baking.
"Alex, this is my mother, Sadie Jones, and my aunt, Lily Keeling. They're the caterers for this gala event."
Sadie might well have been Becky's older sister. She was shorter than Becky but still slender, and she had the same startling red-gold hair and sparkling hazel eyes as her daughter. One had to look closely to see the fine lines around her mouth, the slight softening of the dramatic jawline that indicated she was, indeed, Becky's mother.
Lily was quite different, tall and heavy and wrinkled, with silver hair and glasses, but with the same ready smile. They greeted Alex warmly, and Lily remarked, "Looks like our wee Emily's adopted you, Doctor Alex." She planted a kiss on Emily's cheek. The child smiled at her but didn't loosen her hold on Alex's neck.
The women handed around sandwiches and sweets, and someone poured glasses of apple juice.
"Well, Winifred, if Doc King ever shows up, we can cut this cake and get you to open those presents," someone said, and Alex felt an alarm bell go off in her head. She should have guessed that King would be invited. She knew for a fact he wouldn't be pleased to see her here.
She had to get out. Being insulted by King would ruin what had turned into a pleasant day, and she'd feel huinitiated in front of these kind people. Gently, she tried to untangle Emily's arms and set her back on the bed, but the tittle girl was having none of it. She shook her head no and tightened her clasp on Alex's neck. Alex tried to catch Becky's eye, but the nurse was talking to Lily, and both lily and Sadie were busy handing around the food they'd brought.
"Well, well, W
inifred, this is quite a party you're throwing." King's bluff, hearty voice had every head in the room turning toward the doorway, and Alex felt her heart begin to pound.
CHAPTER TWELVE
ALEX TURNED SLOWLY and faced Dr. King. He was holding a huge bouquet of long-stemmed roses, beautifully arranged in a cut-glass vase, and he looked past Alex and made his way to Winifred's bedside, setting the flowers down beside the chocolate cake.
"Olinda sends her regards. I can't take credit for the flowers—she arranged them," he said with great good humor.
Alex could see the pride and affection on Winifred's face when King bent and pressed a noisy kiss on her cheek.
"Happy birthday, my dear. And many, many more," he added gallantly. There were tears in many eyes at his words, because everyone was aware that Winifred had perhaps reached her final birthday.
"I made them all wait so you wouldn't miss out on the cake," Winifred said with difficulty. "We all know how you like chocolate cake, Doctor. Would you cut it for me?"
"I'd be honored, Winifred." With a wide smile, King wielded the knife and sliced the cake into neat, even portions, joking about his surgical skills as he slid each slice onto a small paper plate and personally handed them around.
Alex, her stomach in an anxious knot, stood as far away from him as she could get, murmuring quietly to Emily, waiting for an opportunity to hand the little girl to one of her relatives and escape.
But to her amazement, King cut an extra large piece of cake and brought it straight over to her. "I see you've made a friend, Dr. Ross," he remarked in an neutral tone. "I happen to know this young lady's as fond of cake as I am myself. I thought the two of you might like to share."
"Why.. .thank you, Doctor." Alex was so surprised she fumbled and nearly dropped the plate he handed her.
"Hollister. The name is Hollister. No need to stand on ceremony, Alexandra, isn't that so?" His gaze wasn't as friendly as his tone indicated, but at least he was offering an olive branch of sorts, and Alex accepted gladly.