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“Cutting to the chase,” he interrupted. “You followed me here to study me.”
“Like I said, it sounds crazy. The only thing I know for sure is that I don’t know anything. I loved being a doctor, think I want to keep doing that. But…” She shrugged. “You need volunteers, and I’m here to volunteer.”
They hadn’t talked about this in Tuscany, and it was something that should have come up when they’d discovered they were both physicians. Of course, how much had he told her about himself? Not much. Shanna had done the same, so he couldn’t fault her for that. “Well, you’re off to a good start, showing up at my door with your own patient.”
“Then you’ll let me stay?”
He’d seen good medical skill and that was almost enough to hire her on the spot. But he was cautious about the people he brought in, even if he had spent time with them on holiday. So while his impulses were telling him one thing, his head was still ruling him. It had to because his only priority was Hospital de Caridad. “You show up on my doorstep and declare yourself ready to work, and think I’ll just let you start working?”
“I was hoping. And you can do an internet search on me.”
“Oh, I intend to.” Although what he’d seen of her already told him everything he needed to know. That, and there was no reason to doubt she was who she said she was. Still, those were personal feelings getting in the way, and whatever was going to happen with Shanna had to be kept professional. From here on out she wasn’t a wishful memory left over from holiday but one of his volunteers. One of the many who got treated no differently than anyone else. In a way, that was too bad, because he’d like those wishful memories.
“You’re a cautious man, Ben Robinson.”
“Have to be.” He smiled. “You never know who’s going to pop out of the jungle and ask for a job.”
“Look, I appreciate the opportunity. Just tell me what you want me to do, then point me in the right direction.”
He pointed at the door. “Evening house calls. You can come along… observation only for now, just to see how we operate. Then after you’re rested…” A sly smile crossed his lips. “And fully checked out, we’ll get you on the full schedule.” He wasn’t sure why he was asking her to tag along, especially as he intended to treat her the way he did all his volunteers—none of whom ever accompanied him on his house calls. Normally, he enjoyed these evening rounds alone, because they got him away from the routine grind and gave him time to walk and think. It was a pleasant way to spend his evenings, yet here he was disrupting himself, and not sure why.
Shanna laughed. “You really don’t trust me, do you?”
“You know how that old saying goes, something about keeping your friends close and your stalker closer….”
“Enemies,” she corrected. “Keep your enemies closer.”
Except he didn’t see anything in Shanna that would make her his enemy. If anything, what he saw was… gentle. Compassionate. “For now, let’s just keep it at stalker.”
“So, do you have a bed for a stalker someplace?” she asked, taking her last sip of mate then pushing back from the table.
Since Amanda and Jack were still occupying the guest cottage until their own cottage was built, and all the volunteer rooms were full, there weren’t many options left open. His cottage was built like all the others, two small residences per cottage, divided by a central corridor. As hospital owner, he claimed privilege and took up both residences in his cottage, using one for living and one for storage, because he valued his privacy. Looked like he was going to have to share, though. An idea with a certain jumbled appeal. “I occupy half the cottage around to the side… you walked right past it when you came in.”
“Half a cottage?”
“Don’t require much.”
“So what you’re telling me is we’re sharing quarters? I’ll take the part you don’t require?”
“Something like that. You’ll get your own room, as well as your own bathroom and a very small living area. So I’ll have someone move my things aside and make room for you.” Everything in that cottage was the sum total of his life, all of it packed into three or four boxes. Bottom line, there wasn’t going to be much of his life to move aside.
“Very practical,” she said. “Me being your stalker, and all.”
He cleared his throat. “Well, then…” What else was there to say after the most beautiful woman he’d ever set eyes on called him practical? The answer was… nothing. There was nothing to say. Not a word. When a woman saw a man as practical, that was as far as they would go. But that was what he wanted, wasn’t it? The two of them going nowhere except on some house calls. Yes, practical was right where he needed to be with her. Right now, though, getting what he wanted didn’t feel so good.
CHAPTER THREE
“WHO is she?” Amanda asked, waylaying her brother in the hospital hall and practically shoving him into a supply closet. “And why is she staying in your cottage?”
“Technically, the cottages are meant to be shared by two. So she’s not really staying in my cottage so much as she’s occupying the other half of a cottage that was designed to be used by two people.”
“Quit being evasive,” Amanda scolded. “I want to know who she is and if she’s the one you met in Tuscany. Oh, and why she’s here.”
“It’s not what you think,” he told his sister.
“You don’t know what I think.”
“Yes, I do. It’s the same thing you think every time you come up with the crazy idea that I might be getting involved with someone.”
“So, are you getting involved with…?”
“Shanna. Shanna Brooks. And, no… notice the emphasis I place on the word no? No, I’m not getting involved with her. But, yes, she’s the person I met in Tuscany.”
“And didn’t have an affair with.”
“And didn’t have an affair with,” he repeated.
“Yet she followed you here?”
“Yes, but I’m still trying to process the reason.” Saying she wanted to be like him could be open to so many interpretations. “I think maybe she’s just looking for some variety in her medical life.”
“Medical life. So she’s what? Doctor, nurse, technician?”
“Family-practice doctor. Burned out, I’m pretty sure.”
“And she’s looking for a nice jungle hospital to rejuvenate her?” Amanda shook her head, smiled. “Don’t be naive, Ben. She’s looking for you to rejuvenate her. Notice the emphasis I place on the word you? And I couldn’t be happier for you. It’s about time you crawled out of your deep, dank hole and did some real living.”
“It’s a normal hole, and I live just fine in it.”
Amanda’s curiosity relaxed a bit, and she arched playful eyebrows at him. “Well, whatever it’s about, you have very good taste in roommates. In fact, that’s a Robinson trait. Just look what happened to me and my roommate.” She patted her rounding belly. “It worked out pretty well.”
“Because there was something there between the two of you to work out.” He held out his hand to stop her from saying the words he knew she’d say. “I’m fine. Just leave it at that, okay?”
“Yeah, well, a beautiful woman just followed you halfway around the world. I’d say that’s better than fine, and as for leaving it alone…” Amanda gave her brother an affectionate squeeze on the arm then spun away. “Think I’ll go help our new volunteer get settled in.”
“She’s going on evening house calls with me.”
“Like I said, I think I’ll help our new volunteer get settled in… later.”
“Leave it alone, Amanda,” he warned. His sister was a free spirit, which was both endearing and, right this very moment, aggravating.
“According to you, there’s nothing to leave alone.”
“So let’s keep it that way.” There were times, though, when he wished he didn’t have to.
“You chose a beautiful area,” Shanna said, trailing along behind Ben. His long legs kept a brisk pace and while she was tall, just a few inches shy of his six-foot-two frame, with long legs herself, she was struggling to keep up with him.
“It chose me,” he said brusquely. “There was a need here, and I had the means to do something about it.”
“So you set up a hospital, just like that?” He seemed the type who could. Efficient, not a speck of nonsense in him. She wondered, for a moment, if Ben ever had fun in life, then dismissed the thought when she remembered that her life didn’t afford much fun, either. Not even after she’d walked away from medicine and, effectively, everything else in her life. Her goal then had been to see the world, have a good time, forget what frustrated her, what made her angry or sad. Concentrate only on what was good in the moment. Then get back to her life and see how it worked out. This was now the working-out part and fun didn’t matter. It was time to be a doctor again but without the emotional involvement that always got in her way.
“Easier said than done. But from a simplistic viewpoint, yes. I set up a hospital just like that. With my sister. She’s only just started working here full time, but she’s been my partner from the beginning.”
“Why Argentina?” Was it easier to fight his demons in such an isolated place? Maybe working so hard with so few resources helped him cope.
“Before you ask, no, it’s not about isolating myself from the world because I’m an alcoholic and the temptations here might be fewer. They’re not. And I don’t consider this isolating myself from the world. My parents were humanitarian workers here for a while. And my sister’s native Argentinian, from a region south of here.”
“I’d wondered if it might have something to do with your… shall we call it demon. But it’s not, and—”
“Not, it’s not,” he interrupted.
“Then I’m glad Argentina comes naturally to you. Choosing where you want to be because it’s the right fit or because of the emotional involvement makes your existence there easier. Oh, and just for the record, you overcame a problem, and I admire that. I hope it’s not an issue for you, because it’s not for me.”
“You’re the only one I’ve ever told, Shanna.”
“And that’s as far as it goes. I hope you’ll trust that, because we all have our past mistakes. Believe me, I have my share.” Rebelliousness, a husband she never should have married. Definitely a few mistakes there. “But live and learn, or live and wallow. What you’re doing here in Argentina isn’t wallowing, and that’s what matters.”
He nodded, seemed to accept that explanation from her, then smiled. “No, being in Argentina isn’t about wallowing because I’ve always loved it here. The people are great, and they’re also very appreciative of our efforts—even the little things that don’t matter so much in most medical facilities. You know, give them an aspirin for a headache and they’re thankful. Back home, you give a patient an aspirin and, well, let’s just say it’s not likely to be received in the best spirit.”
Something she understood completely. Her family employed a cadre of lawyers to keep all things worked out, including the irate patient who might refuse an aspirin for a headache then turn around and sue because she’d wanted a narcotic. As part owner of Brooks Medical Center, Shanna understood that all too well. Which made Ben’s set up here seem all the more appealing. “Well, I may need an aspirin for some legs aches if you don’t slow down. You’re tall, long legs, I’m having a hard time keeping up.”
He stopped, measured her up, nodded. “Somehow, I don’t think you’ve ever had a hard time keeping up. In fact, I’m betting that in one way or another you’re always out in the lead.”
“Not all the time,” she said, hearing the sadness starting to slip into her voice. “Sometimes I’m so far behind I’m not sure I’ll ever catch up.”
Ben stopped. Turned to face her. “Which has nothing to do with our walking pace.”
“Nothing.” She was surprised by his responsiveness. Had she made a cryptic remark like that to her ex-husband, he wouldn’t have caught on. But Ben did. He absolutely did, which tweaked a change in her opinion of him. Made it a little softer in her estimation. And a little less dispassionate.
“If I slow down, are you going to tell me why you want to be like me? I’m not sure I like the idea of being watched that closely.”
“Some people might be flattered.”
“Or suspicious,” he countered.
“Or hanging on by a thread.”
“Let me guess. You’ve come to a crossroad, don’t know which way to go, so your choice is to copycat me?” He resumed walking, but much slower this time. “Let me tell you, Shanna. That sounds crazy.”
“I know. But all my options at that crossroad are leading me to another career path.”
“Then flip a coin.”
“Would, if I could. But it’s not that easy.”
“Sure it is. You’re a family practitioner. That seems like a pretty good path to me. So stay on the path you’re already on and figure out how to make it work. If you still enjoy practicing medicine.”
That was exactly what she was doing, trying to figure out how to make it work. But Ben didn’t need to be privy to these things about her, especially the part where she wanted to figure out how to separate herself from the emotion the way he did. Telling him everything would only make him wary and watchful of her weaknesses, the way her grandfather had been.
Here, at Caridad, she had the perfect opportunity to work one on one with the exact kind of doctor she had to become in order to survive—the doctor who didn’t flinch or cry when her patient died, or didn’t get so emotionally invested she lost sleep, couldn’t eat. Her grandfather had called her a sissified practitioner. Her father had backed that up and no one else in her family had come to her defense, which meant they all agreed to some extent, if not totally.
But, then, look at them, the stalwart Brooks family doctors—her parents, grandparents, brothers. Why would they back her up when they were so entrenched in the Brooks family ways? She was the ousted, the one who didn’t fit. If she wanted back in, she was the one who had to do the changing. Thing was, she wasn’t sure anymore if she really wanted in, and maybe that was what bothered her. However it went, for now, she was exploring options, and Ben was the best option she’d come across. “I love practicing medicine. But for the moment I’m openly observing all paths and leaving it at that.” Such a confusing place to be.
“Well, in that case, this path leads to Vera Santos, who had a stroke about a year ago. She gets along fairly well, takes care of her grandchildren during the day when their parents are working, and she has a passion for eating anything and everything that will elevate her blood pressure.”
That caught her interest, shook her right out of her confusion. “What medication is she on? Chlorothiazide or furosemide?”
“No medicine. But she’s eating more fish and grain. Garlic, too. And she’s currently concentrating on eating more vegetables and fewer sweets.”
“Is it working?”
“Marginally. Her blood pressure is still high, but not as high as it was when she had her stroke last year. Which I’d consider progress.”
“Progress would be convincing her to take a pill.”
“Which she won’t do because she doesn’t trust our kind of medicine.”
“So she doesn’t get treated? Her medical condition is like a ticking time bomb, Ben. You know the statistics, she’s ten times as likely to have a second stroke because she’s already had one and her hypertension isn’t controlled. I mean, how can we let that happen?” It didn’t seem acceptable, especially with a condition that could kill her. And there she went again, heart on her sleeve and emotional involvement she shouldn’t be having.
“She does get treated, Shanna. She’s on a better diet, she’s losing weight—doing nicely at it, her blood pressure is lowering, and I check her once a week. More, if she’s not feeling well. And the big thing is, if she refuses my treatment, and I have offered a variety of options, including pills, I can’t force it down her throat.”
Ben held the gate open for Shanna, then followed her up the path to the front door. “We deal in realities here. It would be nice to give her a pill, but the reality is, she’s allowing me to do only what she wants me to do. It’s all I have to work with. I don’t like it, because my preference would be something more aggressive. But it’s not my preference, so I have to make do and be glad she allows me to do what I’m doing. The alternative could be doing nothing at all.”
And there was his practical side, the one that didn’t jump in with both feet and get emotionally tangled up at the start. “But she knows the consequences. I tell her every time I see her. Don’t like the result, but it’s her decision to make, her consequence to deal with.”
Shanna knew about choices and consequences. She was living the consequence of her choice now. Somehow, though, losing a family, which she feared was part of what was at stake for her, didn’t equate to losing a life, which was exactly what Vera Santos had at risk here—her life. So who really cared that she was already over the emotional edge for this patient? It wasn’t like her grandfather was standing there, calling her a sissy for caring. He wasn’t. Quite simply, Shanna wanted to help Vera Santos and that didn’t make her a sissified practitioner, no matter what anybody said.
“What if I can persuade her?” she asked. “What if I can get her to agree to take the pills?”
“That sure of yourself?” he asked.
“That sure of human nature.” She knocked on the front door, then smiled at him. “And of myself.”
“Well, if you’re that sure, here’s the deal.” A mischievous glint popped into his eyes. “You get her to agree to the pills and after house calls I’ll show you around the village, take you to dinner at the cantina.”
She liked the glint, liked this unexpected side of him because previously, when they had been in Tuscany, he’d never initiated the plans. Whatever they’d done with one another had been more as a result of them mutually stumbling into something together. So Ben asking… that was a nice touch.
“Then get yourself ready for the pay-off, Dr. Robinson,” she warned, “because I’m ready for that night on the town.”
“But here’s the flipside. What do I get in return if she doesn’t agree?”
“She’ll agree,” Shanna said quite confidently.
“But if she doesn’t, what’s in it for me?”
She thought hard for a moment. “A humble apology for being wrong?”
“Not enough.”
