“How about twelve-thirty?” she said to Ethan. “That’ll give me time to get the children cleaned up and feed them lunch.”
“Make it twelve. Lunch is my treat.” Ethan bent over and kissed her on the cheek. “Wear something sexy. I want every man in Timberville to know I’m with the best looking woman in Virginia.”
Matt’s fellow doctors laughed until they held their sides. “It sounds like something out of a Jerry Lewis movie,” Terry Owens said. “No wonder you’re screaming to get out.”
“My favorite is Sa-LOW-me,” Brad Pfeiffer said. “When can I meet her?”
“Maybe you can get Melanie to paint her lips and nails green,” Terry said. “That might put life into some of the geriatric cases.”
“Melanie with green lips and a uniform two sizes too small would give them heart attacks.”
The men laughed again. Matt found it wasn’t as funny as he thought it would be. He hadn’t told his friends about Salome to have them laugh at her. He just wanted to share his experience with them. But somehow it hadn’t turned out like he’d expected.
“Did you get in touch with Georgia?” Terry asked Matt.
“She’s tied up right now,” Matt said. “She promised to call the minute she could get away.”
“What are you going to do until then?”
“Hang around here.”
“I’d wait with you, but I’ve got the graveyard shift.” Terry stood. “Dr. Allison gives me the worst shifts he can.”
“I’ve got a date,” Brad said, getting up and tossing his beer can into a trash can sitting in the middle of the room. “I don’t expect to be back before tomorrow afternoon.”
“Don’t worry about not getting out of that Podunk mountain town right away,” Terry said. “If Dr. Andrews said he’s working on it, he’s doing all that can be done.”
“He didn’t have any idea when he could get you out?” Brad asked.
“No. Dr. Reichenbach makes all the assignments, and he’s against changing them.”
“Then you’d best sit back and keep a low profile,” Terry said. “Let Dr. Andrews do the dirty. If he can’t get you out, remember it’s only a year.”
Maybe, but a year’s lost momentum could take five years to regain.
After his friends left, Matt busied himself straightening the apartment. He didn’t expect Georgia to call. She enjoyed the time they spent together, but her career came before anything else—and that included Matt.
But the thing that bothered him most was he kept thinking about Liz, wondering what she was doing, wondering if she was out with Ethan, if she was kissing him, if she was going to marry him. Matt told himself he was getting desperate when he had to wonder about the dating habits of a stubborn divorcee in a hick town in the mountains.
He picked up his coat and headed out. He knew of at least two bars in town where the action never stopped. If he couldn’t participate, at least he could watch. Maybe that would keep his mind off Liz Rawlins.
Chapter Seven
“If it doesn’t slow down around here, I’m going to quit,” Salome announced when she marched into Liz’s office to hand her the morning mail. “If I’d wanted to work myself to death, I could get a job over at the local diner.”
“Things will slow up soon,” Liz said. “Everybody’s trying to do all the things before summer starts that they’ve put off since last summer.”
The past two weeks at the clinic had been brutal. Their patient load had nearly doubled. It seemed like everyone within a thirty-mile radius had suddenly come down with a cough or a mysterious rash. They had been so busy Liz had had to take over reception while Salome helped Sadie with patients. If things didn’t ease up soon, she was going to have to hire extra staff.
“It’s all Beefcake’s fault.” Salome dropped down into a chair and whipped out her compact. One glance and her eyebrows flew up in dismay. She took out her lipstick and began to do repairs. The color today was a pink so vivid it made Liz’s eyeballs ache.
“Why do you say that?” Liz asked as she quickly sorted the mail. She’d given up trying to convince Salome to call Matt by his proper title.
“You don’t see droves of men crowding in here, do you? It’s the women.”
The phone rang. Salome jumped up. “I’m starting to feel like a racehorse in a starting gate.”
She had hardly disappeared when Matt stuck his head in Liz’s door.
“I need the Baywater family history,” he said. “I’ve just seen Ray Baywater, and I think he’s got heart disease. I remember from his charts that his father and grandfather had it. I’d like to review their treatment and the results. I’d like to know anything you can find out about their diet, too. People here seem to think they ought to live to be a hundred eating chicken, pork and enough grease to give a whole city high cholesterol.”
“Solomon Trinket nearly has.”
“I don’t understand it. Getting blood through his veins must be harder than hacking through a bamboo jungle.”
His head disappeared, and he was gone. Liz smiled. She had recently come to the conclusion Dr. Matt Dennis was a great big fake. He pretended not to care about his patients. He scowled enough to scare little children. He occasionally made patients so furious they stormed out of his office.
But he cared. And the patients knew it. Those who stormed out invariably came back. Those who liked him—and most did—went home and promptly phoned every relative within twenty miles. Within a couple of days, the whole tribe usually managed to think of some reason to drop by the clinic.
Liz had known Matt was smart. His string of scholarships proved that. But after he virtually memorized every chart in the office, she decided he had to be a genius. Even Salome and Sadie had remarked that he seemed to know more about the patients than the patients themselves.
She’d asked him about it a couple of days earlier.
“I’m just trying to be professional,” he had said. “The more information I have about a patient, the better I can diagnose him.”
But that didn’t account for the hours he spent studying charts. He might call it being professional. Liz called it going the extra mile to make sure his patients got the. best care.
Liz noticed with relief that the clock said seven minutes after five. She had gotten off work seven minutes ago. She felt a little guilty about leaving when everybody else had to stay until six, but not guilty enough to stay. She looked at her desk, decided not to straighten it. Salome would cover it with charts before she left tonight. Liz cut off the window air conditioner and went out. It was time to go home and spend a little time with the children before she started dinner. She’d have more time tonight. Matt had already told her he’d be late.
“Can’t we wait a little longer?” Rebecca begged.
“Yeah, can’t we wait?” Ben echoed.
“He’s already forty-five minutes late. The meat loaf will be dry as a bone.”
“I like dry meat loaf,” Rebecca said.
“I like dry meat loaf, too,” Ben echoed.
“If we don’t wait for him, he won’t come to Aunt Marian’s.”
That’s what Liz suspected. Matt had taken to going to her aunt’s with them most evenings, though he never sat on the porch with the adults. He played with the kids—tag, football, hide-and-seek, anything they wanted. He seemed at ease with them, happy, more like a normal human being. But let one of the adults come near him, and he turned into a silent sentinel, stiff and uncommunicative. Liz didn’t know why he liked children and disliked adults, but it was clear he did.
“If we wait any longer, we won’t have time to go to Aunt Marian’s,” Liz said.
“I don’t care,” Rebecca declared. “I don’t want any ice cream.”
That was too much for Ben. “I want ice cream.”
Liz sighed. “I’m sorry, but we can’t wait any longer. Sometimes Dr. Dennis has a lot of patients in the office when I leave. He can never tell—”
The children weren’t listenin
g. Liz heard a car come to a stop in the driveway.
“Here he is!” Rebecca cried. She jumped down from her chair and raced to the front door.
“Want down!” Ben shrieked. “Wanna see Matt!”
Liz didn’t approve of the kids’ calling Matt by his first name. But he insisted upon it, and they insisted upon waiting for him. She heard the excited greetings as he came in the front door.
“Be down in a minute,” he called to her from the hall as he headed up the stairs two at a time like he always did. The children pounded up the stairs behind him. She knew they would. They always did.
While she took pots from the stove and put vegetables into dishes, she listened to the babble of voices from above—the high soprano squeak of Rebecca, Ben’s husky alto and Matt’s resonant baritone. As far as she could tell, all three of them were talking at once. She had no idea how anybody knew what anybody else said.
She didn’t know how Matt stood it. He wouldn’t have from adults. He was forever telling them to calm down, speak slowly and lower their voices. He never once said that to Ben or Rebecca. Now that she came to think of it, he didn’t say that to the kids at the office, either.
She couldn’t help smiling despite her irritation over his being so late. He was kind to her kids, two fatherless children who desperately wanted a man around to play with and look up to. She couldn’t help but be grateful for that. Neither could she help but like him for his kind heart. He didn’t think he had one—in fact, gave every indication of not wanting one—but he was becoming an integral part of her children’s days. She didn’t know what they were going to do when he left.
Matt hadn’t said anything about leaving in nearly two weeks, but it hung over Liz’s head like a rain cloud waiting to dump on her. No matter who followed him in the clinic, it would be an awful jolt for the patients. It would be a terrible jolt for the kids. And if she was perfectly honest, she wouldn’t like it very much herself. He didn’t include her in his good humor and smiles, but she’d grown comfortable with having him around.
She took the meat loaf out of the microwave and sliced it.
It did irritate her that he was cold to her. The tension caused by their differences over Salome and Ethan’s mother had eased, but she still couldn’t penetrate his reserve. A tumbling sound on the stairs told her Ben and Rebecca were racing to see who would be first to the table. Apparently Matt was ready for dinner.
Ben won. Liz suspected he got a head start. He was very competitive, always looking for chances to beat his sister at anything. Rebecca would rather talk a minute longer, but she hated to lose. She always tried her hardest. This time she knocked the chair into the table. Aware that she’d gone too far, she quickly sat down and dropped her gaze to her lap. Ben took one look at his mother’s face and decided not to crow about beating his sister.
“Here you go, sport.” Matt lifted Ben into his chair. He’d given up his high chair when Matt brought home two thick medical catalogs for him to sit on. Ben took great pride in being able to sit at the table like everyone else.
“Sorry to be so late,” Matt said, “but at the last minute they brought in a boy from the camp with a broken arm. It didn’t take long to set, but I had trouble with the cast. I never had to use plaster before.”
“You should have let Sadie do it. She’s done dozens.”
“The medical board sent me here to get some family-medicine experience. I imagine plaster casts were one of the things they had in mind.”
He had that gritted-teeth look he always got when he spoke of the medical board, but it was an opening she couldn’t ignore. “Have you heard from them, I mean about when they’re sending your replacement?”
“Time for the blessing.”
He was stalling. He told her he’d never said blessings until he came to her house. She told him they always did at her table. They held hands. It was Rebecca’s night to give the blessing.
It took them several minutes to serve the children. Fortunately they were hungry and didn’t bombard Matt with news of what they’d done that day.
“You didn’t answer my question,” Liz said once everyone was served.
“I haven’t heard anything,” he replied without looking up.
“What does that mean?”
“I don’t know.”
“The longer they wait, the more disruptive your leaving will be.” It wouldn’t do any good for her to worry about that. She had nothing to do with who was sent to the clinic or how long he stayed.
“Are you leaving?”
Both children had stopped eating, anxious expressions on their faces. Liz was ashamed of herself. She’d let her curiosity make her forget how the news might affect the children.
“All the doctors leave,” she said. “They come here for a short time and then they’re sent somewhere else.”
“I don’t want Matt to go,” Rebecca stated.
“Me, neither,” Ben said.
“I’m afraid it’s not up to us. He was supposed to go somewhere else. They sent him here by mistake. As soon as they get things straightened out—”
“I’m not going anywhere anytime soon,” Matt said. He was looking at Rebecca, but Liz got the feeling he was speaking directly to her. “The medical board doesn’t like to move people around too quickly, even when they’ve made a mistake. I imagine I’ll be here for at least the rest of the summer. Probably a good deal longer than that.”
Rebecca’s grin went from ear to ear. “Can you play kick ball with us tonight?”
“Only if you eat in a hurry,” Liz said. “You know bedtime is eight o’clock.”
She got the usual chorus of groans, but Liz was firm about that. Her children needed their rest.
“Don’t eat so fast,” Matt said to Ben. “You’ll have meat loaf all over the floor.”
“Hurry up,” Ben said, ignoring Matt’s words of caution. “Wanna play kick ball.”
“If you get sick at your stomach—” Liz began.
“They’ll have a doctor at hand to take care of them,” Matt said.
Nobody asked for seconds. In no time, the kids were up from the table and racing upstairs to brush their teeth.
“I’m sorry about spoiling dinner,” Matt said as he got up to follow them.
Liz looked at the remains of a dinner she’d worked nearly an hour to prepare. Bolted in ten minutes. It was enough to make her want to nail the kitchen door shut and take out a lifetime’s lease on a booth at a burger joint.
“It’s okay,” she said. “I don’t suppose a doctor can turn his back on a kid with a broken arm, not even at dinnertime.”
She didn’t envy the woman Matt Dennis married. She’d never know when they could sit down to dinner.
What was she talking about? When he married, if he married, he’d choose a career woman. They’d both have secretaries to work out their dinner schedules. They’d probably eat in restaurants. They wouldn’t see their own kitchen in daylight except on weekends.
“You should have eaten without me,” Matt said.
“I was willing, but the children weren’t. I don’t know what you’ve done to them, but you’ve turned them into loyal disciples.”
“It’s being good at kick ball,” Matt said with a grin Liz was certain had already melted a million female hearts before he turned it on her and her daughter. “I’d better change, or I’ll be late.”
Liz looked at the table. Except for the meat loaf, there wasn’t a thing on it that couldn’t wait an hour. She put the meat loaf in the refrigerator and headed toward her room. She was going to play kick ball tonight. As she remembered, she used to be quite good at it.
“You never told me you were such an athlete,” Matt said to Liz. They were headed home after a vigorous game of kick ball that ended up involving nearly every kid in Iron Springs close enough to be attracted by the whoops and hollers of the players. It even drew Liz’s cousin and her husband off the porch.
“Mama was great, wasn’t she?” Rebecca asked.
<
br /> “Sure was,” Matt said. “Next time she plays on our team.”
He’d been surprised when Liz came out of her bedroom dressed in a T-shirt and old cutoffs. He’d known she had a really good body, but he hadn’t seen it so well delineated since the day he arrived. The effect on his groin threatened to embarrass him.
“Mama’s gooder than anybody,” Ben said.
Liz hoisted Ben off the ground for a quick kiss. “It’ll be you and me against Matt and Rebecca. Do you think we can take ’em?”
“Yeah,” Ben said with a wide grin. “Matt gotta play on Mama’s team, too.”
Rebecca took hold of Liz’s and Matt’s hands. “We can all play on the same team,” she amended. “Then nobody can beat us.”
All of a sudden, Matt could almost see himself walking down the middle of the road, holding hands with two kids, laughing and joking like he was married to Liz. Like they were family.
It gave him the chills. He couldn’t believe he was acting this way. He never had before. As long as he could remember, he’d told himself he didn’t need to belong, that he didn’t want to be part of a family like this. It had taken years for him to admit he’d done that because he was afraid it couldn’t happen, that he’d be rejected again if he tried. He knew relationships like this didn’t work. They hadn’t for him. They hadn’t for Liz. He didn’t belong in a place like this. But having come, he should have had enough sense to keep his distance. He had to leave. They had to stay.
But he couldn’t draw back. It felt too good. Besides, it would soon end. Why not let go just this once? What harm could it do?
Liz patted both children on their bottoms when they reached the steps of the house. “Rebecca, I want you in my bathtub in two minutes. Ben, you be ready the minute Rebecca gets out.”
“I want Matt,” Ben said.
“He’s got work to do. Besides, you’ve worn him out already.”
“I want Matt,” Ben insisted.
“I’ve told you it’s rude to—”
“You still have to clean up because I was late,” Matt said. “Consider my helping Ben with his bath my apology.”
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