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“Have you had lunch?”
“Um.” Oh, she hoped he didn’t read the rest of the stuff inside her head. “If having Oreo cookies counts.”
“When I told Bessie you were coming to see Ms. Stone, she left a spread. A thank-you, I suppose. And then they all went shopping.”
The thrum of his voice sent a wave of sizzling energy through her, and she had to give herself a mental swat.
“I wasn’t really planning on staying.” No lunch. No tour. No lusting after the enemy. No long goodbye to the ranch.
She inhaled a deep breath, and her head filled with pine-scented memories. Oak tree gone, new guesthouse, Guy Daley…the swimming hole, the rich, tall forest, beautifully clean air, lazy summer mornings…She wanted to take one of those new guest rooms and stay forever.
“Bessie will be disappointed.”
“I need to leave.”
“Office hours are over?” He raised his eyebrows.
She nodded.
“They’d page or call if they needed you.”
“I still need to go.” Now—or maybe never.
He looked deliberately at the second-story window of the log guesthouse and then back at her. “Chicken.”
A sharp spate of laughter burst from her in spite of herself. “I came. I saw my patient and, I think, left her somewhat pleased.” Okay, she had seen the ranch and had not self-destructed. And now she could go.
He looked at her thoughtfully for a moment. Oh, if he kept looking at her like that she was going to forget he was Henry’s overbearing brother, that he literally held her future, her practice in the valley and her childhood home, in his hands.
“You can have a look around the place,” he said into the silence.
“Really, I—” They seemed to have struck some sort of accidental truce. She didn’t want to tax the accord by being too standoffish. On the other hand, a horrible feeling struck her. He had made an overture to her in the past. And if she fell for it a second time, shame on her. “I do need to go.”
“Before you leave, I have something that might belong to one of your family members.”
“Maybe some other time.” But she couldn’t get her stupid feet to move.
Go? Stay? Dither her brains out? Oh God. What happened to the woman in Chicago who had learned to go toe to toe with the biggest surgeon egos, the meanest patients, the scariest traumas?
“Henry left a note with it saying he thought it might be yours.”
“Henry?”
“It’ll only take a second.”
“Okay. Show me what you’ve found.”
He held out a hand toward the main house. Henry had probably found their stash of fool’s gold. She and her sister had always hoped the shiny chunks they’d found were real gold, but Granddad always dashed their dreams.
Guy reached ahead, pulled open the door to the house and didn’t goad her when she hesitated on the threshold before stepping inside.
“Whooo, whooo, chug, chug.”
She laughed and Guy grumbled something behind her.
Her mother had written that Henry had loved the clock above the stove so much she’d insisted he keep it. It was so like Henry to do so, even though he’d had the rest of the house remodeled.
Ahead, the kitchen shined with new appliances, flooring and cupboards. To her right, the living room took her breath away. The ceiling had been vaulted, and the ceiling and walls were covered with a medium-stained pine to look as if they had been there for a few lifetimes instead of a couple of years.
“Very nice.” The words seemed inadequate, but they were all she could find at the time.
From a little box on the fireplace mantel, Guy palmed a small object. When he walked over, he opened his hand. On his open palm lay a ring. A delicate gold band with a large solitaire ruby sparkled up at her.
She stared in disbelief. The ring looked as if it had been recently cleaned and polished, but she knew it was old, her grandmother’s engagement ring, to be exact.
Maude hadn’t seen the ring for well over two decades, since the day she had taken her mother’s “most precious possession” from its secret hiding place, taken the family heirloom outside and lost it in the snow.
Maude’s stomach began to roil.
Suddenly she knew if she didn’t get out, she was going to hurl. Her hand flew to her mouth, and she ran.
GUY WATCHED THE little silver Subaru disappear around the bend leaving nothing behind but a curl of dust.
He held up the ring and watched the red stone glint in the sunlight. Then he closed his fist around it. He had expected her to snap it out of his hand. Her reaction didn’t fit with the image of the woman he had carried all these years, the older woman trying to worm her way into his brother’s heart and his fortune. Pieces of the puzzle he never had the time to examine too closely were looking more and more like an ill fit.
“You scare the good doctor away?”
“I might have.” Guy nodded at Jake who ambled up to stand at his side.
The two of them watched the dust slowly disperse into the trees beside the road.
“She probably heard about your cooking.”
“As a matter of fact, I offered to share the spread Bessie left this morning.”
“Must be your personality, then.”
Guy laughed and squeezed his hand tighter around the ring. “Must be. I’m hungry. Let’s eat.”
A little bell tinkled in the distance.
Jake started to move off, but Guy stopped him. “Let it go this time.”
Jake turned back. “I’d’ve gladly done that team-building exercise this morning and you could have stayed here.”
“Maybe I’ll have to give you a raise.”
“Wouldn’t be big enough.”
Guy chuckled and headed toward the house, Jake right behind him.
“I’ll be there in a moment,” Guy said. As they entered the house, he went to return the ring to its box on the mantel. He wondered what it was about the beautiful old thing that made Maude DeVane turn pale and flee. Then he remembered wanting to touch the rich brown curls that collected around her face.
Scaring her away might have done them both a favor.
“Food’s on, boss,” Jake called from the kitchen.
ON FRIDAY MORNING, Maude sat at the desk in her office and struggled to keep her eyes open. Irony. She thought of the hours during the last two nights when she had tried to make her tired eyes stay closed.
She would dream the image of Guy Daley smiling at her, reaching out and gently pushing her hair away from her face. His lips would cover hers, and she would kiss him back, until her eyes would snap open and in the darkness of the night she’d feel the loss as if it were real.
Then she’d go back to sleep and see the glint of red and gold disappear into the snow.
So much snow.
A light tap on her office door made her sit up straighter. “Yes, Arlene.”
“Your first patient is ready for you.” The office secretary had shown up like a trouper this morning, pencil behind her ear, ready for whatever came.
“Thanks.” Maude had been surprised to see the office full of patients. Today there were even a few without appointments who “needed a minute with the doctor.” She suspected most of them were there to see if Maudie had really turned into Dr. DeVane or if they should start looking elsewhere. Didn’t matter. She’d see them. Show them they could have confidence in her.
Maybe she should have gotten some ice cream.
By the end of the day when the last patient left, she thought she might have gained a little ground. Taciturn bunch, most of them, so she could only hope.
She closed the last chart and put it in the “to file” stack on Arlene’s desk. A nice soak in the tub was in order.
The phone on the desk rang. She looked at the decidedly anti-tub device and after the second ring picked it up. “This is Dr. DeVane.”
“Dr. Avery. I need Dr. Avery right away, please.”
“Dr. Avery is gone.” Maude replied to the desperate-sounding voice on the other end of the line.
“But I need him. When will he be back?”
“Mrs. McCormack,” Maude said when she recognized the nasal sound of the nearly hysterical woman.
“I need Dr. Avery.”
“I’m afraid he’s gone for good.” The woman was the mother of a pair of little boys and the wife of a town council member. “What can I do to help you?”
“He can’t be gone. He’s not leaving until next week.” The voice on the phone neared panic.
“Come to the clinic. I’m here now.”
“No. I can’t come to see you. Maybe I’ll try his mobile phone. Maybe he’ll—”
Suddenly, the line went dead.
Maude stared at the silent phone in her hand, then set it softly into the cradle. Should she try to call her, search for her? But where had the woman called from? Her car? Her home?
Reason told Maude to wait for another call. So she forwarded the clinic phone to her mobile and walked slowly to her car.
When Doc Avery was still in town and Maude was learning about his patients, Mrs. McCormack had found excuses not to have Maude see any of her family members.
Maude had tried to tell herself Mrs. McCormack was used to Dr. Avery. He had delivered her and her two children, after all. But when Mrs. McCormack had canceled her husband’s appointment with Maude and had him wait an extra day to have his earache treated by Doc Avery, it seemed more than loyalty.
On the way home, Maude stopped at the grocery store, where she acquired dinner without even hesitating behind a display of anything. A few people smiled and some stared. When she was in her car and almost home, her phone rang.
“You’ve got to come. Come now. Sammy can hardly breathe. Please, help me.”
“Where are you, Mrs. McCormack?” Sammy, the four-year-old McCormack. Red hair. They all had red hair.
“We—I was going to take him to Kalispell. I wanted him to see a doctor.”
Maude let that one go.
“Where are you now?”
“Oh God, help me. I’m just outside of town.”
“Can you get to the clinic in a few minutes? Safely?”
“Yes! Yes!”
“Put the phone down and drive, I’ll be there before you get there.” It didn’t make sense to go out into the community to see the boy. She had none of her emergency equipment, and by the time the rescue crew could be mustered the boy would already be at the clinic.
Maude thumbed off the phone, parked and unsnapped the phone’s cover. Tucked inside the casing, she kept the on call roster for the clinic staff. The roster let her know who expected to be called for emergencies. Abby was off, but Phyllis was a good nurse and her husband assured Maude that Phyllis would be there soon.
After she got to the clinic and prepared, she went outside to wait. A few minutes later, a car screamed up the street with the horn blowing. A van pulled over and let her by. The people of St. Adelbert did care for one another.
Mrs. McCormack’s car nearly sideswiped another as she turned sharply onto the ramp. In one fluid motion, she screeched to a halt and jumped out of the car. The blue van pulled in behind her.
Maude wrenched open the rear car door and leaned in. The four-year-old looked up at her in distress. “It’s all right, Sammy. We’ll get you some help right away.”
She lifted him from his safety seat, and with his body hot in her arms, she hurried into the clinic. His feathery red hair brushed her cheek. His little chest heaved in the struggle to move air in and out.
He pleaded for help with his eyes. “It’ll be okay, Sammy. I’ll make everything okay.” At least his color was good.
Somewhere in a corner of her mind, she realized she had seen Guy Daley get out of the van. What did he want?
“What’s wrong with him, Doctor?” Mrs. McCormack followed, breathless with fear.
“Tell me what’s been happening, and I’ll figure it out.” She hurried into the room stocked with pediatric equipment, where she jerked the head section of the patient cart into the upright position with one hand, and then gently placed Sammy on the cart.
“Sammy, I’m going to put a mask on your face. Just like the jet pilots wear when they fly up in the big blue sky.”
He nodded again and she slid a small mask onto his face to deliver moisturized oxygen. She looked up at Mrs. McCormack.
“He had a fever this morning, and then he started to cough like he couldn’t stop. About two hours ago he started having a bit of trouble breathing and it kept getting worse. What are you going to do for him, Doctor?”
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