by Amy Vastine
“Figures,” she muttered. “Pod mates, those two.”
“Uh, not exactly. Tag is just easy to get along with. Usually.”
“Hey, I’m… I can be easy to get along with, too.”
“You can be, sure…”
Ally gave him her best menacing glare.
They shared a laugh, and then Flynn said, “Ally, seriously, it would behoove you to get along with him. Pull out the charm, which I know is difficult, but which I also know you’re capable of.”
“I’m going to try, Flynn. I promise.” Wondering if Flynn had forgotten, she asked, “Did he contact you about setting up a meeting? We agreed to settle our professional, um, discrepancies under your guidance.”
“Nope. Haven’t heard from him, although…”
She waved him on impatiently. “What? Spit it out.”
“It’s a good idea, I think. He does have a lot of experience.”
She scowled. “As do I.”
“Hey, settle down there,” Flynn teased, raising a conciliatory hand, fingers spread, palm out. “I know you do. All I’m saying is that medicine is collaborative, or it should be. You know that. You also know from working with Abe your entire life that not everyone thinks or believes the way you do. We talked about this before you took the job.”
“I know. I do know that, Flynn. I just wish a different pilot was doing this transport today.”
Slowly he tipped his head, like a thought was occurring to him. “This party tomorrow, it’s for his sister Iris. Did you know that?”
“No.” It figured. Just her luck. Small towns.
Flynn peered at her for a few seconds. “Is this computing? Those women you met the other night, at the Cozy Caribou? Most of them are related to Tag. He has relatives all over this town.”
Ally’s brain went into overdrive. This meant Iris’s sisters, Shay and Hannah, were also Tag’s sisters? Meaning she’d initiated a discussion with his sister Hannah about her arthritis that, had the conversation taken place, would have included mention of alternative treatments.
Yikes. Based on their initial encounters, Tag would not approve. Ally was almost relieved that Hannah hadn’t taken her up on her offer. Almost, because, she reminded herself, she didn’t care what he thought of her. At least today’s excursion would give her a chance to apologize before encountering him in a social setting.
A small smile played on Flynn’s lips. “You know, most women in this town wouldn’t consider it such a hardship to spend the afternoon with him.”
“Oh, yeah?”
“Yeah, he’s generally considered the one to catch around here.”
“The one to catch?” She repeated the statement flatly.
“Rankins’s most eligible bachelor.”
What did that mean? That he was some kind of player or that he wasn’t? “Huh. Well, I’m not most women, am I?”
Flynn barked out a laugh. “That you are not. I gotta get going. Promise me you’ll make nice with Tag James?”
“I promise I’ll…try.”
* * *
TAG WAS SURPRISED when he arrived at the hospital to find that the patient wasn’t ready for transport. His inclination was to seek out Dr. Ramsey, although he knew the task now fell under Ally Mowak’s job description.
With flashbacks of their last meeting flickering uncomfortably before him, he headed to Ally’s office only to find that she wasn’t in.
Tag gritted his teeth as he realized they’d never had that meeting with Dr. Ramsey. He’d headed back to the office that day and asked his assistant, Ivy, to schedule it. But that same evening Ivy had received word that her dad had died, and Tag had immediately given her as much time off as she needed to fly home to Nebraska to be with her mom, assuring her that all tasks would be taken care of in her absence.
Was it too much to hope for that someone other than Ally was assisting with the transport today? Dr. Ramsey or one of the other doctors sometimes accompanied patients, and he knew of at least two nurses who were trained to travel. He went to the nurses’ station on the first floor—they always seemed to know everything—and asked about Flynn and Ally.
“They’re both with patients,” Marlena, one of the nurses, told him a moment later after making a call. “But Nicki wants to know if you’re aware that you’re more than an hour early for your transport?”
“I thought the pickup was scheduled for one.”
“She was afraid of that. She says she called your office this morning to reschedule but got your machine.”
“Ah.” Tag nodded. That would explain it. He hadn’t gone into the office this morning. And probably none of his crew had bothered to check the messages. He couldn’t blame them; that wasn’t their job and he hadn’t asked them to. He made a mental note to give Ivy a raise immediately upon her return and headed to the cafeteria to grab a coffee.
On his way out, he ran into his friend Laurel Davidson, the owner of the town’s newspaper, the Rankins Press.
“Laurel, hey, what are you doing here? Chasing a story?”
“Possibly. I have a line on a human-interest piece. What are you up to?”
“Killing time because of a scheduling snafu. Ivy is gone, and my office is bordering on chaos.”
“Speaking of chaos, I am looking for the new hospital liaison, Ally Mowak. You know her, right?”
Tag set his features to bland. “Met her. Briefly.”
Laurel’s brows jumped high onto her forehead. “And…?”
His answer was a little frown and a shrug to match.
Clearly not fooled, not that she ever was, she said, “You can cool the closemouthed, cagey act. I know you flew her cousin in from Jasper Lake after the grizzly bear attack. Tell me what you know, what you think.”
“About what? I don’t know anything. It was pretty intense, Laurel. The patient was her cousin, and we didn’t spend much time chitchatting.” Why did he sound defensive? Tag wasn’t about to mention the controversy Ally had caused with the use of the clay, although he knew gossip had already flown around the hospital like a foot fungus in a dirty locker room. Heck, he’d heard it being discussed at the Cozy Caribou the day before.
Meaning Laurel already knew, which must have something to do with her being here. Her doubt-filled expression seemed to strengthen his deduction.
“Do you know her grandfather is Abraham Mowak?” Laurel asked.
“No…” Doctor Abe Mowak, the well-known, well-connected Native healer and advocate had a reputation for being…unconventional. How had he not made that connection?
“Yeah, we’ve got the granddaughter of one of Alaska’s most renowned Native healers working right here in Rankins. I met her earlier this week before I realized who she was, and even then, I thought she was…intriguing. From what I’ve learned, she’s been working by his side since she was a very young girl. And she’s an Army veteran.”
“Huh. Well, Laurel, it sounds like you already know more than I do.”
“Big surprise,” she teased. “I also stopped by to see Ginger.”
“Ginger is here?” Ginger Weil was a mutual friend. In addition to being a professional photographer, shooting weddings, parties and portraits, she also took photos for the region’s newspaper. She’d been diagnosed with ovarian cancer nearly a year ago, and it hadn’t responded well to treatment.
“Yeah, they admitted her last night with an infection.”
Tag felt his gut tighten with concern. “Is she staying?”
“I don’t know.” Laurel shook her head. “She doesn’t want to. Poor thing. She wants to stop treatment and her family is not taking it well.”
“Yeah, I talked to Jacob last week. He’s not dealing with the whole thing in general. I think I’ll head up there and say hi.”
“She would love that. And so would Jacob. You should try talking to him. He likes
you. Maybe he’ll listen. I’ll see you tomorrow at Iris’s party, right?”
“Yep, her flight gets into Anchorage this afternoon. I’m picking her up after I drop off a patient.”
* * *
ALLY HAD RETURNED from her lunch break to discover a request to visit a patient ASAP. She’d headed to the fourth floor to find a smiling nurse standing outside the patient’s door, seemingly waiting for her arrival.
“Hi, I’m Nicki. You must be Ally. It’s great to meet you finally.” With a wave, Nicki moved to the end of the hall. Ally followed. “Ginger has ovarian cancer. She’s done two rounds of chemo. They didn’t work. Now she says she’s through. Doesn’t want to talk options anymore. Family is distraught. Dr. Ramsey thought a conversation with you might, um, encourage them to accept her decision. Ginger agreed.” Nicki handed her a chart.
“Of course.” Ally skimmed the details and headed into the room.
“Ah, Ally.” Flynn smiled and waved her over. “Thanks for coming. I’d like you to meet Ginger Weil. Ginger, this is Ally Mowak, our hospital liaison. Ginger is a photographer, the most talented one I’ve ever met.”
“Pfft.” Ginger flapped a hand in his direction, but she was grinning. “Charmer. How many photographers have you met?”
Ally sent her a warm smile. “Hi, Ginger.”
“Lovely to meet you, Ally. Welcome to our family meeting.” Ally was surprised by both the twinkle in the woman’s eye and the trace of sarcasm when she said, “Doc Junior here tells me it’s your job to reassure my parents that I’m a grown woman capable of making my own decisions about my health. I’m looking forward to hearing someone with the proper authority do that.”
Ally took in the two women huddled together off to one side. A beefy man with a gray buzz cut stood on the opposite side of the bed, not frowning, yet there was no trace of a smile, either. Massive arms folded over his muscled chest made his biceps bulge, and everything about him screamed military.
Flynn introduced the man and the older woman as Ginger’s parents, Jacob and Kate. The other woman was their younger daughter, Cara, Ginger’s sister.
Ally moved closer to Ginger. “I understand you’ve decided to forgo further treatment for your condition?”
“Correct.” A confident nod accompanied her response.
“I’m sorry, but I need to ask if you understand what that means. Even though I know that your oncologist, and probably Dr. Ramsey, have already gone over this with you, I’d like to talk—”
“Yes, let’s talk about it,” Kate broke in. “That’s all we’re asking, honey.”
“Any hope is still hope,” Cara chimed in.
“Talking some sense into her is all we want,” Jacob growled.
Oh, dear, this poor family.
“Platitudes are my favorite,” Ginger whispered. Squeezing her eyes shut, she gave her head a shake before settling a determined gaze on Ally. “I’m totally fine talking about it. With treatment, my odds of beating this are less than two percent. Treatment would consist of more brutal chemo. The first rounds left me helpless and miserable and incapacitated and nearly killed me. But if I opt out of the treatment I could have three or four or as many as six or even eight months with relative quality of life. Way, way better than the chemo version of quality I’ve suffered through already.
“I could smoke weed—sorry.” She gave her dad a pointed look before addressing Ally again. “I could legally partake of medical marijuana until I can no longer stand the pain. Then I’ll hook up to a morphine drip and sleep peacefully until I die with as much dignity as dying allows.”
“Stop talking about dying!” Cara barked, her tone bordering on a shout. “You have to fight, Ginger. Why won’t you fight?”
Kate choked on a sob. “Ginger, honey, Cara’s right. Please think about Ella. She needs her mother.”
Jacob stood his ground, menacing and gruff, his blue eyes settled on the wall above Ginger’s head. Ally’s heart went out to him; she wasn’t fooled by the man of steel routine. Why was it that the harder the shell, the more devastating the heartbreak seemed?
A passionate, circular conversation ensued, and Ally understood why Ginger had requested some help. She glanced at Flynn, whose only response was a gentle upward nudge of one brow.
Ally had experienced an uncommon amount of death in her life. Palliative care was one of her grandfather’s strong suits and Ally had shown a knack for assisting him at a very early age. She knew when a patient was making a decision for the wrong reason and when they were making it for the right one. As far as she knew, her intuition and experience had never steered her wrong.
Beside her, Ginger’s eyes were shining and filled with anguish. The sight caused an ache deep in Ally’s chest. She reached across and placed her hand over Ginger’s, lightly squeezing her fingers.
Ignoring the others, Ally asked, “So, Ginger, now that you’ve decided, what are you planning to do with the rest of your life?”
The room grew silent while Ginger’s eyes welled with tears. “You’re the first person to ask me that…” Dipping her chin, she nodded for a few seconds before swiping at a tear on her cheek. “I’ve thought about this a lot.”
“I’m sure you have. I know I would.”
“It even has a title, this last chapter of my life. It’s called Photographs and Memories, like the Jim Croce song. Do you know it? I’m plagiarizing, but I’ll be dead by the time anyone figures it out so let ’em sue me.”
Ally smiled. “Know it and love it. He’s one of my grandfather’s favorite singers.”
“I want a few more months of taking photos and making memories. One last glorious Alaskan summer…” Ginger swallowed and nodded as if to blink back more tears. “I want to spend time with my daughter and take photos to leave for her. I want us to do things and make memories and document them together. Memories that don’t include me sick and vomiting and so weak that I can’t even hold her or read to her or sing Jim Croce songs…”
Ally squeezed her hand while she gathered her thoughts, awed by her strength and bravery and the beautiful poetry of her words.
“What I don’t want…” She cleared her throat. “What I don’t want is to lie in bed wishing out the window, you know what I mean? Lying there dying and thinking about all the things I wish I was doing? I want to do them, live while I can. So, Ally, that’s what I’m going to do with the rest of my life.”
“Ginger, that sounds just lovely.” Ally lifted a shoulder. “I can’t imagine anything better.”
“Me, either.”
“You realize that it will be painful? That, in the end, it could possibly be more painful than if you chose chemotherapy? Physically, I mean, because the cancer will be allowed to grow. Chemotherapy kills your good cells, but it also kills the cancer cells and can prolong your life.”
“I do. Dr. Fulton, my oncologist in Glacier City, was brutally honest about that. I asked him to be because I want to be prepared. But I’ll have quality time, that’s the point.”
“Okay, good. You get it. Your daughter is lucky to have you. How old is she?”
“She’s eight.” Ginger reached toward the bedside table, picked up a frame and handed it to her. A photo collage, Ally realized, and in each and every image there was a petite girl with a heart-shaped face, wide smile and lively eyes that were nearly identical to her mother’s, right down to the glowing inquisitiveness in their startlingly blue depths. Some images featured the little girl alone, others included her with a happy and healthy Ginger, her grandparents, Aunt Cara and presumably other loved ones. In some, there was a fluffy gray cat.
“These photos are gorgeous. Dr. Ramsey is right about your talent. And your daughter is beautiful.”
“She is! And smart and kind and artistic and imaginative. All the things I dreamed my child would be.”
Ally stared into her eyes, pouring every bit of s
upport she could manage into the look and the touch of her hand on Ginger’s. “I dream of those things for my daughter, too, if I’m ever lucky enough to have one.”
“Thank you for understanding,” Ginger whispered.
“You bet. Have you applied for your medical marijuana card yet? I know some doctors who specialize in this area. They can work with you and suggest strains that are symptom specific. It’s—”
“Wait! What? Aren’t you going to try and talk her out of this? Jacob, do something,” Kate demanded.
“Yeah!” Jacob erupted. “Hold on here for one minute! This is your solution? I thought doctors took an oath to save lives.”
Cara was looking at Flynn. “Dr. Ramsey, is it possible she doesn’t know what she’s saying? I’ve read about how chemo can affect the decision-making process. It can make people confused and—”
“Cara!” Ginger cried.
Eyes bright with tears, Cara turned toward her sister. “I’m sorry, Ginger. I’m so sorry. I just… I love you so much. And Ella…” Her voice broke with a sob.
“It really wouldn’t be like that, Jacob,” Ally said calmly. “I know it’s easy for me to say because Ginger isn’t my daughter, or sister, but I can tell you that I’ve seen hundreds of people die in my lifetime, both working for my grandfather’s medical practice and from my time as a medic in the Army. The acceptance of an inevitability we all have to face at some point isn’t necessarily giving up. It can be a way of taking control. And, without exception, it’s one of the bravest acts I’ve ever witnessed.”
The room went quiet. Jacob peered at her as if he’d only just seen her for the first time. Kate looked thoughtful. Cara’s sobs quieted. Ginger was beginning to look tired, and Ally didn’t blame her.
“How about if the four of us, you and Kate and Cara and me, talk about this down the hall? There’s a private room right next to the lounge.”
“Thank you,” Ginger told her before fixing a pleading gaze on Cara.
Ally watched a light dawn in Cara’s red-rimmed eyes and felt a rush of relief when the woman began nodding. “Mom and Dad, let’s do that. Let’s go and let Ginger rest. I think it might be a good idea to hear what Ally has to say.” Tugging her bag up from the floor, she adjusted the strap over her shoulder and added, almost like an afterthought, “And we can say some things, too. Ask questions and…yeah. This will be good.”