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That’s how the five of them ended up walking toward triage, all together, Ty in the lead, Claire pushing the chair and Deanna looking like she was in the middle of a really long streak of bad luck.
Claire knew that look. She had once been an overwhelmed young mom, too. More than a day or two had passed when she’d felt completely in over her head, but nobody had cared.
“Here we go,” Dr. Slattery said, pushing through the stainless steel double doors. As soon as they stepped inside, he picked up the phone and spoke into it.
Claire did her best with the chair, the mother close to her heels. “I didn’t mean for this to happen,” Deanna said. “I never thought about Taylor getting cut.”
“I know you didn’t.” Claire had never worried about broken glass or torn up cans either. She’d been too worried about feeding Wes. “That’s why they’re called accidents, right?”
The skin around her lips whitening, Deanna kept her focus on her son. “I suppose.”
The teen closed his eyes. As Dr. Slattery spoke with two nurses, Deanna started looking agitated again. Seeking to calm her, Claire smiled. “So, how old is Annie?”
“Almost four.”
“She’s a cutie.”
“Oh, she is. I tell you, more than one stranger’s stopped me and said she needs to be on TV.” After a pause, she added, “When I think of the things we’ve been going through, I can hardly believe it. I always thought I’d be doing better than this.”
Reaching into her pocket, Claire wrote down two numbers. One was for the Applewood Women’s Shelter, the other was her phone number at work. “This place helped me out a couple of years ago. You might want to give them a call. Or, call me if you like and we’ll talk.”
“You?”
Biting her lip, Claire nodded. “Yeah. I know exactly what you’re going through. Applewood helped me a lot.”
Further conversation was prevented by the appearance of the two nurses. “We’ll take care of things now,” one said as she reached for the wheelchair.
Deanna picked up Annie, who started crying. “I’m sorry,” she said. “She just really likes being with Taylor.”
“We’ll be as quick as possible. I’ll come get you after we take a look.” With a genuine, warm smile, Ty said to Claire, “Thanks for your help. We’ll handle this now. You’ll make sure she gets the paperwork done?”
Thanks for her help? Oh, for heaven’s sakes—she was just doing her job. “Yes, doctor.”
Deanna stared at the curtained area all while juggling a squirming Annie in her arms. “I feel awful that I’m not in there with him.”
“I know the feeling, but I promise, right now it would be better for Taylor if you and Annie let Dr. Slattery and the nurses do their jobs. They’re good people, I promise.”
“Do you know that doctor very well?”
“I do.” Claire knew more about Ty Slattery than she wanted to. He was a resident, too handsome, too friendly and four years younger than herself. “Dr. Slattery’s a good doctor.”
After handing Deanna the paperwork again, Claire knew it was time to leave. “You take care, Ms. Johns,” Claire murmured, barely waiting for her to reply before retreating to the safety of the reception area.
But as the double doors whooshed open and Claire stepped through, she didn’t know if she was more anxious to put some space between her and Deanna Johns—a woman who reminded her way too much of her past—or the one man who’d reminded her that maybe she wasn’t as dead inside as she’d previously thought.
“HEY, CLAIRE,” Dr. Slattery called out just as she was heading out to the back parking lot.
Pulling her navy coat a little more tightly closed, Claire did her best to look relaxed. “Hi. Um, is Taylor okay?”
“I think so. Twelve stitches plus a tetanus shot.” He chuckled. “He’s going to have a sore hand for quite a while.”
And more than likely would be sleeping in a car tonight, Claire realized. She should have thought to go back and see if Deanna had any questions about the shelter. She’d meant to, but had forgotten when she’d reached the main reception room. At least a dozen patients had come in while she’d been gone and Lynette’s usual good temper was in short supply. They’d worked nonstop the next four hours.
But Dr. Slattery didn’t need to know any of that. “Well, thanks again for helping us out.”
“Like I said, I’m glad I hadn’t left yet.”
He was so laid-back and easygoing it was everything Claire could do to remember that she didn’t want to lower her guard around him. His calm, caring demeanor reminded Claire that some men might actually be everything they claimed to be. That was always a nice surprise, since Ray, her ex-husband, hadn’t been.
Dr. Slattery stepped closer, effectively making it difficult to forget that she needed to stay far away from him. “How’s Wes?”
“Wes? Fine.”
“Shoulder still doing okay?”
She remembered Dr. Slattery’s hands gently working Wes’s shoulder at a wrestling tournament a good month ago, checking to see if any real harm had been done on that mat. “It’s in shape, if his performance is any indication. He won two wrestling matches last weekend.”
A true smile lit his face. “I can’t believe I was on call all weekend and didn’t get to see a single match. I’ll have to stop by and watch him compete one day soon.”
“I’m sure you’re too busy for that.” When he blinked in surprise, Claire attempted to soften her words with a smile.
“I mean, you’re a resident, and help with the football conditioning at Lane’s End High, too. You can’t watch all the kids all the time, right?”
“I do my best.” He eyed her again, then ran a hand through his dark brown hair. “Are you off duty now?”
“I am.”
“I’m a little too keyed up to go home. Would you like a cup of coffee or something?”
“No.” She bit her lip, then said, “I mean, thanks, but I’ve got to get home to Wes. He’s probably already combing the cupboards for junk to eat.”
He laughed. “He wouldn’t be a teenage boy if he wasn’t.”
Relief rushed through her as she realized he wasn’t going to make a big deal about her refusing him. “He’s barely a teenager…only thirteen.”
“I still find it hard to believe you have an eighth-grader.”
“Yeah, well.” No way was she going to discuss how she got pregnant too early, married the wrong guy for the wrong reasons, and then nearly lost Wes when her marriage and her financial situation fell apart.
Those days would probably seem like another world to such a handsome, successful guy. Correction, young guy. “Well. Good night, Dr. Slattery.”
He flashed a smile. “Maybe we could graduate to first names? It’s Ty.”
Claire knew that she’d been hanging on to some kind of weird, outdated formality by insisting on using his title. She wanted to keep her distance. “All right. Ty.” She smiled to take the sting out of her voice, though she doubted he even felt a pinch. “I better get on home.”
“How about I walk you to your car? It’s dark out here.”
“Thanks, but that’s not necessary.”
He fell into step beside her. “It’s the least I can do. I’m sure Wes would appreciate someone looking out for his mom.”
Unfortunately, her son had already needed to find someone to look out for his mom. Never again would she be in a situation where she felt dependent or inferior. Never again did she want to depend on a man, even for safety’s sake. “I’m okay.”
“Even so…”
Slowly they walked through along rows of cars and finally stopped in front of her gold Corolla. She shivered a little at the cold, anxious to get in the car and head home.
“This is me. Good night, Ty.”
“For some reason, my schedule’s a little bit lighter this week. Maybe we’ll see each other around sometime soon. I’ll try and make Wes’s next match.”
Even though Wes liked Ty, even though she knew the guy meant his offer innocently, Claire was in no hurry to make any plans with him. She was not in the market for a relationship. And if she was, it definitely wouldn’t be with someone who made her forget all the reasons why she wasn’t in the market in the first place.
But she didn’t want to be rude. It wasn’t Ty’s fault she wasn’t dating material. “Maybe so.” As she turned on the ignition, Claire watched him stride past her parking area to the physician’s lot.
As she pulled out, she saw him behind her, in an Jeep that also looked as if it had seen better days. That took her by surprise—she’d thought all medical residents drove cars at least a little bit nicer than that.
And as she turned left to go one way on the freeway, he went the other.
All served to remind her that there was more separating her and Dr. Ty Slattery than job titles and makes of automobiles.
She’d been widowed, then homeless. She’d collected cans, just like Deanna and Taylor had. She’d almost died and had stayed in the hospital nearly two weeks. Now she lived in a two-bedroom apartment, truly the worst housing in the best school district she could afford.
Ty Slattery had probably never even thought about the exact price of a McDonald’s cheeseburger. She doubted he’d ever worried about his power getting turned off, had probably never been the recipient of pitied stares and too-concerned expressions.
Fumbling for her cell phone, she punched in her home phone number. “Wes, I’m on my way,” she said the minute he answered.
“Good. I’m starved.”
And with that, all Claire’s troubles melted away. There was only one man in her life who mattered and he had size ten feet and was single-handedly trying to eat her out of house and home. “I’ll bring home a pizza,” she said with a smile. “A pizza big enough for two.”
Chapter Two
“Ty, wait up,” Chris Pickett called out just as Ty was paying for his groceries and about to head back out into the frosty parking lot.
Grabbing hold of his two sacks, Ty turned around and waited for his best friend from high school to wheel his loaded shopping cart over. “I can’t believe we’re seeing each other at the grocery store. Who would have ever thought back when we were seniors that we’d be here on a Friday night?”
“I promised Beth I’d pick up some dinner on the way home. She’s been sick as a dog,” Chris explained.
“Morning sickness all day long, huh?”
“Morning, noon and night. Doc, you said by the fifth month she was going to be feeling better.”
“I told you I was the wrong person to ask. I’ve delivered babies but haven’t helped out with too many pregnancies. Give her OB a call.”
“Beth won’t…she doesn’t want to be a bother.” Chris rested his elbows on the handrail of the cart. “That’s why I’m grocery shopping at seven at night. What’s your excuse?”
Ty stepped to the side so two bundled-up teenagers in Lane’s End High black and gold hoodies could squeeze by. “I live alone. I either shop or don’t eat.”
“You’re making things too difficult. You’re supposed to be out at a club or something when you’re single.”
“Not if you’ve just spent the last twelve hours on call,” Ty replied, thinking that his words didn’t tell the half of it.
“I ended up staying two hours later than I intended when a boy with a cut hand came in, followed by a dozen people with the flu.”
“Ah, winter.”
“Yeah.” Ty also had no extra money for clubs or dates, but that was nothing Chris needed to know about.
“Too bad.” Brightening, Chris said, “Hey, want to come over on Sunday and watch the football games?”
“Beth won’t mind?”
“Nah. You always make her smile. Come on over for a free meal, Ty. There’ll be plenty of food.”
Ty raised an eyebrow at the comment. Hmm. Maybe his struggling financial situation wasn’t too much of a secret after all. “Thanks. I’ll double-check my hospital schedule then let you know.”
“Call me either way. You spend too much time working as it is. You could use a little R & R.”
“I’ll call. I promise.”
When Chris’s cell phone started buzzing, Ty waved goodbye and strode out to his car. For a split second, he gave into feelings of jealousy. His buddy from high school had done everything “right.” He’d gone to a nearby college, met Beth, then, after they’d both graduated with business degrees, they had settled into good jobs and had been working their way up the corporate ladder ever since.
Now, after five years of marriage, they were expecting their first child, who was destined to live in a well-kept home and be driven around in some designer station wagon.
He, on the other hand, was trying to finish up his residency and find a job. He also worked when he could for Lane’s End public schools. He helped coach and condition athletes so he could afford a meal out once in a while.
In the distance, Ty saw Chris pull out of the parking lot, still on his cell phone. Most likely, the guy was talking to Beth. Probably talking about that baby again. Ty tried to shrug off his melancholy.
Tiny, icy bits of snow started falling as he drove along the narrow, hilly streets of Lane’s End. The flakes stuck to his windshield like glue. Ty turned the wipers to a higher speed and pressed the button for wiper spray.
In the distance, bells rang from the hundred-year-old steeple at the First Baptist Church. The bright chimes echoed through the streets, lending as much character and personality to Lane’s End as the flowers hanging in baskets around the scenic historic district in the summer.
After catching a green light at the top of Mission Street, Ty finally pulled into his own house, a restored three bedroom home in the heart of downtown Lane’s End that he rented from another doctor. The ancient oak door stuck as he worked the key into the lock, turning it first to the left, then firmly to the right. When he entered, the first real sense of peace washed over him as he carried his grocery sacks into the remodeled kitchen.
Home, at least for now. The ceilings were a little too low, and the wooden floor was scratched and scraped from Maisy’s toenails. A faint chill crawled out of the window frames and the kitchen faucet had a constant, slow drip. But even counting all those flaws, Ty loved the old place. He loved how it made him feel, living in a house that had been home to so many before him.
Ty wasn’t sure why Dr. Michaels had offered him the place to rent for the past two years, but Ty was extremely grateful. Every two years, the elderly doctor offered one of the residents the home to live in for next to nothing. Dr. Michaels jokingly said it was his way of knowing that at least one of the residents was getting enough rest at night.
Ty knew it was a stroke of good luck. If he wasn’t living on Mission Street, some days he thought he’d be living in a mission.
Now, he had a rundown place with lots of personality and a really nice kitchen, thanks to the previous resident who’d accidentally flooded the dishwasher and ruined the floor and cabinetry.
Quickly, Ty emptied his grocery bags, pulling out the boxes of Hungry-Man dinners that had been on sale, along with two boxes of cereal, a case of Ramen noodles, and a gallon of milk. After picking out the Salisbury steak dinner, Ty leaned back against the counter as the microwave did its magic.
Maisy hopped off the couch and finally came over to say hello.
“How are you doing, girl?” he asked his old retriever.
