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He frowned, absorbing that information. “Where do you take patients if it’s something we can’t handle here?”
“Hagerstown has the closest hospital, and that’s a good forty miles. They have a Life Flight chopper they can bring in, unless the weather’s bad.”
“You make Button Gap sound like the last frontier.”
“Maybe it is, when it comes to medical care, anyway.”
He wouldn’t appreciate the significance of that. How could he? Someone like Grant Hardesty couldn’t understand either the terrifying challenge or the immense satisfaction of providing the only medical care some of Button Gap’s residents would ever have.
They reached the end of the hall. “The office.” She swung the door open. “You can use it, but some of the patient files and insurance forms are stored in here, so I’m in and out all the time.”
She’d found it best to make that clear right away with the visiting doctors. Otherwise, they’d assume it was their private sanctuary.
He glanced dismissively at the tiny room with its battered oak desk, flea-market chairs and office-supply-overstock file cabinets. “It’ll do.”
“The clinic’s hours are over for the day, so if you want to get settled—”
She left it open-ended, wondering how he’d respond. He so clearly didn’t want to be here that she couldn’t imagine why he’d volunteered to come in the first place. Maybe he’d thought it would be a nice addition to his résumé.
He just nodded. “My bags are outside.”
Apparently he intended to give the clinic a try. At any other time, she’d be grateful. But now—
She spared a fleeting thought for Aunt Elly, who’d taken over for her at home when she’d had to rush into the clinic.
The elderly woman hadn’t lost any of the loving spunk that had once made her the perfect foster mother for a scared, defiant eleven-year-old. She’d be all right until Maggie could get back to take over.
“I’ll help you bring your things in and show you the apartment.”
She led the way outside, wondering what he saw when he looked at Button Gap. The village was only a few hours’ drive from his busy hospital in Baltimore, but to him it probably looked as if it had not changed for the past century.
White frame houses and a couple of log cabins clustered around a village center composed of a general store and café, the post office with a flag flying in the wind and the medical clinic. White picket fences enclosed neat front gardens, their late chrysanthemums killed by the last frost. The heavily forested mountain ridges surrounded the town on all sides, rearing upward to cut off the gray November sky.
Maggie looked at it and saw home. He probably saw a hamlet with no coffee bar or decent restaurant in sight.
She might have predicted the new SUV he drove. It had probably been shiny clean when he left the city, but miles of mountain road had splashed it with mud.
He opened the back, and she grabbed the nearest duffel while he picked up two other bags. They matched, of course.
She nodded toward the long frame building that had been first a private home and then a grocery store before the county bought it for the clinic.
“The apartment for visiting doctors is on that side of the office. Mine is on the other side.”
He sent a cursory glance from one to the other. “Okay.” He took a computer bag from the front seat and slammed the vehicle’s door, locking it with an electronic key. “Let’s have a look.”
She unlocked the apartment’s front door and ushered him in, trying not to smile as he glanced around the living room. The county had been cheap with the furnishings, figuring none of the volunteers stayed long enough to make it worth fixing up the place. The beige carpet, brown couch, faux leather recliner and small television on a fake wood stand gave it the air of a motel room.
“The kitchen’s through here, bedroom and bath there.”
He took it in with a comprehensive glance. “I trust your place is a little better than this, since you’re the permanent staff.” His stress on the word said he hadn’t missed her earlier dig.
“Mine was the living room and kitchen in the original house, so it has a bit more charm.” She dropped the bag she’d carried in. “This part was once a grocery store. They knocked down the shelving and put in the kitchen to make it livable.”
His expression suggested he didn’t find it particularly livable. “Is it always this cold?”
“The county can’t afford to heat the place when no one’s here.” She indicated the cellar door. “I’ll start the furnace, but you’d better come with me to see how it works, just in case it shuts off on you in the middle of the night.”
She’d prefer he not think she was at his beck and call for household emergencies.
Taking the flashlight from its hook, she opened the door, letting out a damp smell. She vividly recalled the female doctor who’d flatly refused to go into the cellar at all. Grant looked as if he were made of sterner stuff than that, but you never could tell.
She took a steadying breath and led the way down the rickety wooden stairs. Truth to tell, she hated dark, damp places herself. But she wouldn’t give in to that fear, not anymore.
Grant’s footsteps thudded behind her. He had to duck his head to avoid a low beam, and he seemed too close in the small space.
“There’s the monster.” She flicked the light on the furnace—a squat, ugly, temperamental beast. “It’s oil fired, but the motor’s electric.”
She checked the oil gauge, knelt next to the motor and flipped the switch. Nothing.
Grant squatted next to her, putting one hand on her shoulder to steady himself as he repeated her action. His touch was warm and strong, giving her the ridiculous desire to lean against him.
“Doesn’t sound too promising.”
His voice was amused, rather than annoyed, as if he’d decided laughter was the best way of handling the situation. Maybe he was imagining the stories he’d have to tell, back in the city, about his sojourn in the wilderness.
“It’s just stubborn.” She stood, putting a little distance between them. She closed the door that covered the switch, then gave it a hearty kick. The furnace coughed, grumbled and started to run.
“Nice technique,” he said. “I’ll remember that.” His voice was low and rich with amusement, seeming to touch a chord within her that hadn’t been touched in a long time.
She swung around, the beam of the flashlight glancing off rickety wooden shelves lined with dusty canning jars. A wave of discomfort hit her, and she went quickly to the stairs.
“The furnace will keep running until the thermostat clicks off, but it’s always a little drafty upstairs. I hope you brought a few sweaters.” I hope you decide this isn’t for you.
If he left, they’d be without a doctor until after the holidays. If he stayed—
She didn’t have any illusions about his reaction if he discovered the secret she hid. No one else in Button Gap would give her away, but he might.
“I’ll make do,” he said. He closed the cellar door behind them.
Grant wouldn’t have a chance to give her away, because he’d never know. She’d make sure of that.
“Do you have a family, Maggie?”
Her heart stopped. “No. Why do you ask?”
His gaze fixed on her face, frowning, as if he considered a diagnosis. “I thought I saw a kid at your window when I arrived.”
“That must have been Calico.” She tried for a light laugh. “My cat. She loves to sit in the window and watch the birds. You probably saw her.”
He gave her a cool, superior look that said he wasn’t convinced. “Must have been, I guess.”
Oh, Lord, I’m sorry. Really I am. But isn’t protecting some of Your little ones worth a white lie?
Somehow she didn’t think God weighed sins the way she’d like Him to.
And she also had a sinking feeling that told her she might not get rid of Grant Hardesty anytime soon.
“So you lied to the man, child?” Aunt Elly looked up from the piecrust she was rolling out on Maggie’s kitchen table, her faded blue eyes shrewd behind her steel-rimmed glasses.
“I didn’t want to.” The defensive note in her voice made her sound eleven again, trying every trick in the foster-kid book on Aunt Elly before realizing the woman knew them all and loved her anyway. “But I didn’t want him to find out about the Bascoms.”
She shot a glance toward the living room, where Tacey, five, and Robby, four, were playing some kind of a game. Joey, at eight considering himself the man of the family, wasn’t in her line of sight. He’d probably curled up with a book on the couch, keeping an eye on his siblings. She lowered her voice.
“You don’t know what he’s like. Stiff-necked, by-the-book and arrogant to boot. I can’t take the risk of letting him know about the kids. He’s the type to call social services the minute he knew.”
Aunt Elley fitted the top crust over apple slices from her own McIntosh tree. “So you been saying, child. But you don’t know that for sure. Might be good to have a doctor handy with three rambunctious kids in the house.”
“I can take care of them. Besides, Nella will be back soon.” She wouldn’t give in to the fear that Nella Bascom, having lived with an abusive husband for too many years, just didn’t have it in her to raise her kids alone.
“You heard anything more from her?” Aunt Elly slid the pie into the oven and closed the door.
“Three cards and one phone call.” She nodded at the Christmas card she’d taped on the refrigerator where the children could see it every day. “She says she’ll be back for Christmas. That’s what she said in the note she left with the kids in the office.”
Shock had hit her when she’d opened the office that morning and found the Bascom kids in the waiting room. Tacey and Robby had been curled up like a pair of kittens, sleeping since Nella had left them at dawn. Joey had been watching over them.
“Nella will come back,” she said again firmly, as if Aunt Elly had argued with her. “Once she gets used to the idea that her husband isn’t around to hurt her anymore, she’ll adjust.”
“You could go looking for her.”
She could. The postmarks told her Nella had run to the small West Virginia town where she’d once lived. “I’ve thought about it. Prayed about it. But—”
Aunt Elly nodded. “You figure if Nella’s going to have strength enough to raise those youngsters on her own, she’d best come back on her own.”
“She will. And I’m not going to let those kids get sucked into the system in the meantime. Nella would probably never get them back if that happened.”
They both knew what Maggie had experienced in the foster care system. It lay unspoken between them.
“I reckon Button Gap can take care of its own,” Aunt Elly said. She glanced out the kitchen window. “But it looks like you’ll have to tell the new doc something.”
“Why?” She slid off her stool, dusting her hands on her jeans.
“’Cause here he comes, and he’s got ahold of Joey by the collar.”
Before Maggie could move, a knock thundered at the door. Shooting Aunt Elly an appalled look, she moved to open it.
Grant stood on her step, holding Joey by his frayed jacket collar. “This kid belong to you?”
“Not exactly.” She grabbed the boy, pulling him inside the kitchen. “He’s a friend. What are you doing with him?”
“I found him in the cellar.” He stepped inside without waiting for an invitation. “He was trying to dismantle my furnace.”
“He can’t have been.” Her rejection was automatic, but her heart sank. Actually, he could. Joey was fascinated by all things mechanical. Worse, he might have heard her earlier and decided to help the new doctor go away.
“Yes, he was.” Grant planted his hands on his hips, glowering at her. Then he seemed to become aware of Aunt Elly, watching him with what might have been an appreciative twinkle in her eyes. And of Tacey and Robby, standing in the doorway, looking scared. “Sorry, I didn’t realize you had company.”
“Not company.” Aunt Elly wiped her hand on the sprigged apron she wore over a faded housedress, then extended it to him. “I’m Aunt Elly. I guess you’re the new doctor.”
“Grant Hardesty.” He sent Maggie an annoyed glance. “I thought you said you didn’t have any family. Your aunt—”
“Nope, not her aunt.” Aunt Elly was obviously enjoying herself. “Ellenora Glenning, if you want to be formal.”
“Mrs. Glenning—” he began.
“Call me Aunt Elly,” she said. “Everyone does.” She grabbed her bulky gray sweater from the coat hook inside the door. “I’d better get, Maggie. Watch that pie. And you children behave yourselves, you hear?” She twinkled at Grant. “You two can probably fight better without me here.”
She scooted out the door, leaving Maggie to face the music.
Maggie gave Joey a gentle push toward the living room. “You go in and play a game with your brother and sister now. We’ll talk about this later.”
Joey sent a sidelong look at Grant. “I won’t be far off, if you need me.”
She tousled his fine blond hair. “I know. Go on, now.”
When he and the other children were out of sight, she turned back to Grant.
“Why did you lie to me?” he asked before she had time to think.
“I didn’t, not exactly.” Well, that sounded feeble. “You asked if I had any family. I don’t.” She pointed to the windowsill where the elderly calico cat slept, oblivious to the hubbub. “And you might have seen Callie.”
“I might have, but I didn’t.” His frown deepened. “It’s obvious these kids are staying with you. Why didn’t you want me to know?”
Part of the truth was better than none. “Their mother is a friend of mine. She had to go out of town for a few days, so I’m watching them while she’s gone.”
“That doesn’t explain why you didn’t tell me the truth when I asked.”
“Look, I just didn’t want you to think the children would interfere with my work.” She hated saying it, hated sounding as if he had the right to disapprove of anything she did. “They won’t. I have plenty of people to take care of them when I’m working.”
“Your system didn’t seem to work too well when the boy decided to take my furnace apart.”
“Joey. His name is Joey.” She took a breath. He had a point, unfortunately. “I’m sorry about that. He’s interested in how things work. Do you need me to come over and fix it?”
“I can manage.” There was a note to his voice that she didn’t like. “But I don’t want to work with someone I can’t trust.”
She wanted to lash out at him, tell him she didn’t want to work with him, either. Tell him to take his changeable eyes and his chiseled profile and go right back to Baltimore where he belonged.
But she couldn’t. Like it or not, she was stuck with him.
Chapter Two
