The clinic was typical with sterile gray walls and subtle printed linoleum floors. The only decorations were some fake ficus trees in large colorful pots. Nurses bustled in and out of rooms, calling out requests or giving directions to each other. The term controlled chaos came to mind, and she’d seen it all before. This was the way the medical system worked. There was no way to predict on any given day or hour how many patients would show up for care.
The waiting room had been packed when they’d arrived, but the instant Desi had mentioned chest pain, they were brought straight in.
A half hour later, Desi was on her way back from making a bathroom stop when the silver-haired nurse who’d taken Gerda away stopped her in the hall.
“Would you like to see your grandmother?”
“Yes. Is she all right?”
“She’s fine and in the procedure room. Follow me.”
Desi found Kent standing beside Gerda’s gurney, talking quietly to her and writing on his prescription pad. He looked casual but entirely in control and in total concentration, with one foot propped on a stool, his powerful shoulders sloped just enough to write with the pad balancing on his thigh.
“Hi, Grandma. How do you feel?”
All of the worry lines Gerda had worn into the Urgent Care had smoothed. She smiled at Desi. “I’m fine. It wasn’t my heart after all, as it turns out.”
Kent turned and found Desi’s questioning gaze. “Hey,” he said. His greeting sounded anything but professional.
“What’s the word?” she asked.
“Your grandmother is suffering from stress. We did an EKG, which was fine, and some blood tests. Though it will take a few hours for all of them to come back, the initial cardiac enzyme test looks good. But Gerda’s vital signs are elevated.”
“I never have high blood pressure,” Gerda broke in.
“Except for today,” Kent replied.
Gerda nodded in agreement. Kent glanced at Desi as if making a point that it also wasn’t every day a long-lost granddaughter worked her way back into her life.
Point taken.
Kent looked like a TV doctor in his white jacket with a stethoscope hanging around his neck. He tore off a tiny paper from his pad and handed it to Gerda. “I’m sending you home with a better antacid than that over-the-counter stuff and some sedatives. I want you to take one of both as soon as you get home, and for the next couple of days keep taking the sedative until you relax and your blood pressure is back to normal. I’ll write out the instructions.” He shifted his attention from Gerda to Desi. “Make sure she doesn’t exert herself for a couple of days. No mayor duties. And no driving.” He looked back to Gerda. “Did you hear me? Don’t exert yourself, okay?”
“I’m old, Kent, but I’m not hard of hearing.”
He gave an exaggerated nod. “This is true.”
Sure, he’d known Gerda all his life, but his bedside manner was easygoing and reassuring, and Desi would bet her classic-jazz record collection that he was like that with all of his patients.
“We’re going to wait until the IV finishes before we let her go home. On top of everything else, she was a little dehydrated.”
“Makes sense since she didn’t eat and hardly drank all day.”
Kent took the prescription back from Gerda and handed it to Desi. “You may want to fill this while you’re waiting, to speed things up.” He walked with her and guided her out the door.
“I’ll be right back, Grandma,” Desi said, relieved that her grandmother was okay, but completely aware of the warm pressure from Kent’s hold on her arm.
He stopped just outside the examination room, out of Gerda’s line of vision. “She’s totally upset about something, and it has driven her blood pressure way up. She needs to relax or she might develop palpitations.”
“I’ll make sure she calms down.”
“Anything going on between you two?”
“Us? No. We’re good. We were looking at some of my mother’s things earlier, and…”
“This condition doesn’t strike me as anything that came on suddenly.”
“No. She’s been preoccupied with some meetings at city hall, but that’s all.”
“Well, make sure she relaxes for the next few days.”
“Will do, Doc.”
They walked the long clinic corridor, which was cluttered with stray equipment and metal tables. This place didn’t quite have the medicinal smell of a hospital, but it came close.
“The pharmacy’s just across the street. Shouldn’t take more than fifteen minutes to fill it, and I promise we’ll have Gerda out of here within the half hour.”
“I can’t thank you enough.”
“This is what I do, you know. It’s my job.”
“Right. I know, but I mean, I’m just glad it wasn’t her heart, and I’m glad you were the one to tell her.” And to take care of her.
“No problem there. Her EKG was fine.”
“And I’m glad you didn’t move to San Francisco and sell this clinic.”
He sent her a thoughtful glance, hopefully taking her comments as they were meant: a compliment.
“Dr. Larson?” A tall, thin nurse rushed toward him with a handful of paperwork. “We’ve got a patient with severe abdominal pain in room ten.”
Kent took the sheets of paper. “I’ll be right there.” He turned back to Desi and took her hand, gave it a quick squeeze then let go. “This is a crazy place to meet up, but it was good to see you again.” His gaze did a quick survey of her, head to toe. She hoped he didn’t do that with all of his patients or family members. Something about that sexy gaze told her he didn’t. “Don’t hesitate to call if you need me.” And he was off.
Basking in the sweet and warm sensations enveloping her, she watched him stride down the hall, larger-than-life, confident and professional as all hell. Wow. Grandma was in excellent hands. She rubbed where he’d held her arm then turned and headed for the pharmacy, fingers crossed she might see Kent one more time before she took her grandmother home.
While waiting for the medicine, it occurred to Desi how important her grandmother had become. Gerda had opened her home and arms the instant Desi had mentioned she’d wanted to come to Heartlandia. As if she’d been waiting all of Desi’s life to have her there. She’d been kind and encouraging ever since Desi had arrived, and Desi felt something more from Grandma, too. She felt loved. Unconditionally.
Desi blinked back the sudden rush of moisture in her eyes, realizing she loved her grandmother, too. Now that they’d been through an emergency together, they were true family.
With a heart filled with a sense of belonging—something she’d missed since her mother had died—Desi retrieved the medicine when her grandmother’s name was called. She smiled all the way back to the Urgent Care, ready to take her long-lost grammy home.
* * *
Two hours later, Desi had tucked Gerda into bed. It was eleven o’clock. Her silver-and-white hair lay thinly over her shoulders on top of an old-fashioned nightgown, complete with lace trim along the neck and shoulders. The sedative made her softly etched skin look saggy, and her normal healthy glow dimmed. She seemed vulnerable and Desi worried about her. What could be eating at her enough to cause chest pain?
A sudden urge made Desi crawl onto the bed beside her and lie on top of the blanket to cuddle near her grandmother. “Mind if I stay with you for a while, Grandma? Just until you fall asleep?”
Gerda smiled and welcomed her with open arms. “I’d love it.”
They snuggled in silence for a few moments, lights on, old-house noises creaking and cracking around them. Desi detected the clean scent of cold cream and loved how at home she felt.
Gerda inhaled long and slow. “I’ve got a lot on my mind these days, and it feels like this huge weight on my chest.”
“I hope it’s not because of me.”
“No. No. You’re the best part these days.”
“Sometimes it helps to share worries.”
Gerda played with and patted Desi’s hair. Desi glanced up at her face.
“But I’ve been sworn to silence.” She bit her lip, knitting her fair brows. “There’s something crazy happening in our town, and I’m half-sick about it.”
Desi sat up. “This is the most peaceful and ideal town I’ve ever been in. What could possibly change that? Zombies?” she teased. “Are there werewolves roaming the pine forest?”
Gerda huffed and rolled her dull blue eyes. “You wouldn’t believe it if I told you.”
She had Desi’s full curiosity. “Want to try me?”
Gerda sat up and smoothed the creases in the sheets. “I’m not supposed to talk about it to anyone outside of the city council. I gave them my word.”
“And your word nearly had you admitted to the hospital tonight. Sometimes sharing a burden makes it lighter.”
“I feel like they set me up. Made it sound so easy to step in as mayor. ‘Just until we can have an election,’ they said. ‘You’ll only be a figurehead.’ Now I feel set up, like they were saving this for—how do they say it on TV?—for my watch.”
A battle ensued inside Gerda, and her conflicted expression made Desi understand the importance of Grandma’s word. If she said she’d keep a secret, well, she’d keep it even if it made her sick.
“All the more reason to share.”
“Oh, Desi, I…”
Feeling guilty for putting more pressure on her grandmother, Desi backed off. “You don’t have to tell me, Grandma. I understand. You made a promise.”
Another deep breath lifted Gerda’s chest. “The thing is—I want to. I know I can trust you, and no one will ever find out, will they?”
“You have my solemn vow.” Desi raised her right hand and made her most trustworthy face, then crossed her heart for good measure.
Gerda laughed. “That’s exactly what I said my first day on the job as mayor.”
They chuckled together, holding hands and smiling at each other, enjoying the few lighter moments.
Gerda made a playful expression. “This sedative is making me feel all swimmy-headed and a little loose-lipped.”
Desi winked. “You do look awfully relaxed.” She didn’t think she could feel any fonder of her grandmother at that moment.
“Secrets are hard to keep when you feel all loosey-goosey.”
Desi kept grinning, sensing the vault was about to crack. She lay back down beside Gerda, so as not to stare at her. Gerda grabbed her hand and squeezed.
“Heartlandia doesn’t have a lot of natural resources anymore. The fishing industry has moved north and we aren’t rich in anything but trees, and we want to keep them, not cut them down. What small textile factories we once had have all closed over the last twenty years or so.
“A hundred years ago, our astute mayor Bjarnesen set out to make us the best little tourist town in Oregon. He opened our port to cruise ships, made sure the trains took extra-long stops here and campaigned for better roads and highways out this way. More and more families turned their big old houses into bed-and-breakfasts or rentals. Everyone took extra-good care of their property and homes. The town focused on all the things that would bring people here for vacations. Novelty shops, Scandinavian goods, excellent yet inexpensive restaurants. The mayor even built the Heritage Theater and brought in talented musicians and singers from all over the country.”
Gerda took a sip of the water from the glass on the bedside table that Desi had left for her. “This medicine makes my mouth dry.” She took another sip and wiped a drop that slipped out. “He put us on the map and we’ve been living a modest but contented life as a tourist attraction ever since. We’ve built our reputation as a place where people work together for a better life. Fishermen and Native Americans, Scandinavian and American. Heartlandians. We boast how the Chinook people nursed shipwrecked sailors back to health and taught them the secrets of hunting and fishing our oftentimes-treacherous river waters.”
Gerda yawned and cast a quick glance Desi’s way, finding her undivided attention, then laid her head back on her pillow.
“You probably haven’t been there yet, but we have a two-mile-long brick wall called the Ringmiren that the first Scandinavian settlers helped the Chinook people build. It circles the farthest limits of our city and it delineates the sacred Chinook burial ground. It’s said that thousands of souls lie in rest there, and it is a sacred place.”
“I didn’t know any of this, Grandma. It’s fascinating. Will you take me there?”
Gerda nodded, looking very sleepy. “It took ten years of preparation, and two years to build, but last year we finally finished our own city college.” Her voice grew weaker. “I chaired the board for the city-college project. We thought it would bring more opportunity for employment for residents and also draw students from surrounding cities to attend. We hired our wealthiest businessman and contractor, Leif Andersen, to build the college from our designs, and it is beautiful, too. He did a fantastic job.” Gerda lifted her head again and took another drink of water, and Desi thought soon she’d need to refill the glass.
Worry changed her expression. “During the process of building, Leif’s construction crew dug up some old trunks filled with antique sea navigation instruments and a captain’s journals.”
Desi had been enthralled before, but the new twist riveted her attention. “Are you serious? Wow.”
Gerda wiped her brow, pushing a few errant strands of hair aside. “‘Wow’ is right.” Her eyes blinked open and closed as if she fought off sleep. “We’ve brought in a history expert who teaches at the college, Elke Norling. She’s the sister of one of our police sergeants who’s on this special council with me. You met him at the festival. Kent’s friend Gunnar?”
Desi nodded, remembering the solidly built police officer with flashing green eyes and a cautious demeanor.
Gerda yawned again. “Anyway, as you can imagine, we’ve been going through these journals with a fine-tooth comb and they tell an earlier and very different history for our town.”
“What do you mean?”
“We’ve just scratched the surface, but if we can authenticate these journals, which is what we’re working on, we will have to face the fact that our beautiful little history of Heartlandia is only partly true. And the big question is what we should do about it.”
“But isn’t it better to know the whole story? The complete history?”
“Not when our livelihood depends on our selling ourselves as a peaceful storybook town catering to tourists.” Gerda sought out Desi’s eyes and held her gaze. “Not when these captain’s journals tell dark, dismal horror stories about our past. Not when we have to face up to the possibility that Hjartalanda was discovered by a scurrilous ship captain. A pirate.” She’d spit out the word as if it had tasted horrible.
Desi’s mouth dropped. “A pirate?”
Gerda, who looked more and more haggard as she unwound her tale, nodded. “A pirate.”
Chapter Seven
Desi watched her grandmother drift off to sleep just after getting to the meaty part of her tale. Amazing. A pirate had first discovered Heartlandia. Captain Jack Sparrow, perhaps? Desi snickered and fought the urge to wake her grandmother to get the rest of the story out of her, but instead she gently covered her to her chin, then turned off the light and tiptoed out of the room.
No wonder the acting mayor of perfect little Heartlandia was having chest pain.
How in the world was Desi supposed to process this crazy information? Of course she would keep it to herself as she’d promised, but, wow, what a wickedly fun twist for a town known as paradise.
She went downstairs to shut off the rest of the lights and made sure the front door was locked. Just before she turned off the dining room light, she saw Kent’s truck pull to the curb. It was half past midnight.
Guiltily she stood like a voyeur and watched his tall yet graceful frame exit the car and smoothly stride to his front door, the walk of a confident man who’d worked hard and
done a lot of good for his community that night. There was much to like and respect about him. The fact that he was gorgeous was icing on the cake.
She allowed herself to entertain a quick fantasy about how it would feel to be waiting up for him and fall into his arms as soon as he came through the door. She’d never waited up for any man. Clicking back into reality, she made a right turn and walked toward the dining room switch plate. No point in dreaming about something that would never happen.
A quiet tapping on the front door snagged her attention before she reached her mark. Making her way back to the door, she looked through the peephole. It was too dark to see anything but a shadow.
“Desi?”
Her pulse nearly leaped in her chest. “Kent?” Hadn’t she just watched him head for his house? With leftover habits from L.A., she left the chain latched and opened the door, first making sure it really was Kent. “Hey,” she said through the crack. With nervous fingers she quickly unlatched the chain and opened the door wider.
“How’s she doing?” His huge and sturdy silhouette loomed so near, she fought the urge to run her hands across his chest to make sure he wasn’t a ghost.
“She’s asleep now. Doing well.” Seeing him in the dark sent all kinds of reactions buzzing through her body.
The white of his teeth as he smiled made a chill bubble burst in her chest and ripple across her shoulders. “Good. Don’t let her—”
“Exert herself,” she finished for him, returning his grin. “I won’t.” For the second time that night she raised her hand in an oath. “I promise.”
He lingered, taunting her with his gorgeousness. “Good. I’ll check back tomorrow.”
On the verge of saying the requisite “You don’t have to,” she stopped herself. Even though she had things under control, she didn’t want to ruin her chance of seeing him again. “Thanks.”
They stood watching each other for a few more heartbeats. Desi felt kind of goofy, and her cheeks were on the verge of cramping from all the grinning, but she did not want to be the first to say good-night and close the door. This crush really did have to stop.
A Doctor for Keeps Page 10