скачать книгу бесплатно
“I prefer to retain a degree of formality in the office, Dr. Brandt. It engenders patient trust.” His eyes flashed an unspoken warning.
The words slipped out before she could control them.
“Are you saying that your patients don’t trust you unless you call them by their surnames?”
As a joke, it fell flat.
His whole body stiffened.
“My patients think of me as their doctor, their physician. When they walk through those doors, they expect me to treat their diseases.” His lips pinched white. “What they believe or chatter about outside of this office is none of my concern. Now, if you’ve nothing else, your first patient is waiting.”
Dr. Joshua Darling turned on his heel and left the room.
“Ouch!” Nicole flopped down on the edge of her desk, her eyes wide with shock. “Why do I feel as if he doesn’t really want me here?”
“Because he doesn’t.” Penny slipped through the door and whipped it closed behind her. “I mean, he does want your help. He can’t possibly function without it anymore. But he hates change and lately he’s had to deal with a lot of that.”
“Miss Winifred told me about his wife. How sad.”
“It was horrible, of course. Cancer always is. But that was only the beginning.” Penny straightened a tilting stack of files and opened the first one on the desk. “Sign here.”
“You mean about his partner leaving for South America?” Nicole took the hint and moved to sit while she scrawled her name across the papers presented. “Yes, I can understand how difficult that must have been.”
“He never said a word, of course, but I think he felt abandoned. They’d been quite close. Then, when you add all of that to his problems at home. Well.” She threw up her hands. “I guess it’s no wonder he gets a little testy now and then. The next one, too, please.”
“At home?” Nicole signed. “What’s wrong at home?”
Penny chuckled. “Stick around, Doc. You’ll understand after a few days. Those little cherubs you saw can wreak a lot of havoc. We’re trying to make allowances for him.”
And that, Nicole guessed as the nurse scurried out of the room, was blatantly obvious. She knew from Miss Winifred that Dr. Darling’s wife had died of cancer almost two years ago. But he was a doctor—he’d seen death before. Of course, it was far worse when it was someone you loved, but he had his daughters. Surely he was learning to cope?
“Your patient is in examining room two, Dr. Brandt. May I show you the way?” He stood in the doorway, watching her.
“No, thanks. I just need a second or two more with this file. I promise I won’t knock your schedule off too far.” She smiled, then glanced back down at the case history.
“See that you don’t.”
Nicole made a face at his back, then snatched up the file and stalked toward the room. Tonight she was going to give Professor Adams a call and beg, bully, even bribe him to push up her place on the waiting list. She’d made up her mind, and coming here had only reinforced it.
General practice was not her forte. Hadn’t she always known that? She wasn’t good with people. She was a loner, used to dealing with her own idiosyncrasies. But when it came to reading others, she’d always been a flop. Wasn’t that why surgery seemed so perfect? Technique was number one with surgeons. People skills came a distant second when you were removing an appendix.
But that’s not the only reason you’ve chosen it, is it?
Nicole paused, her hand on the doorknob.
You think your father will finally love you for yourself if you can do the one thing your mother never achieved.
Sometimes being a loner wasn’t so great, especially when you talked to yourself—and yourself talked back.
Thrusting that little voice to the back of her mind, Nicole opened the door and breezed inside the treatment room, a smile pasted on her face.
“Hi, I’m Dr. Brandt. How can I help you today?”
Twenty past five and she still had three patients to see!
“I’m really glad to have met you. I think you’ll find that medication will take care of your rash with no problem. Okay?”
Nicole tried to hurry the woman, but to no avail. To tell the truth, she’d rather enjoyed the garrulous Millicent Maple. Her words shed new light on Dr. Darling and his rambunctious daughters.
“I’m sorry to babble on so, doctor. But you promise you’ll stop by our bake sale on Friday? We’re featuring quilts, too.”
“I’ll try my hardest.” Nicole waffled her fingers in a wave and scurried out the door.
Maybe he wouldn’t notice. Maybe he was tied up with his own chatty granny, catching up on all the latest Blessing news.
“You’re behind, Dr. Brandt.”
She almost groaned. Instead, Nicole fixed a saccharine-sweet smile on her lips and turned around.
“Yes, I am, Dr. Darling. Since every patient is new, it does take some time to go through the case histories. I’m sure you can understand that. Excuse me.” She opened the door and walked inside, determined to meet each need without watching the clock.
At ten after seven Nicole sat down to finish her files. At twenty after eight, with Penny’s help, she managed to get the whole lot off her desk.
“There we go. All ready to start fresh and clean tomorrow.”
Penny grinned, but her next words were cut off.
“Dr. Brandt, why have you kept my staff overtime?”
Nicole twisted to face him, her face burning.
“Just a moment, please, Dr. Darling.” She turned to Penny. “Thanks so much for all your help. I’m really sorry I’ve kept you so long, but I don’t know what I’d have done without you.”
“Not a problem. Actually, I enjoyed it. Good night.” Penny lifted the stack of files, grinned at Dr. Darling and sauntered out of the room.
Nicole closed the door behind her.
“Now, Dr. Darling. What was it you wanted to talk about?”
“Your lack of organization,” he muttered, staring at the mess she’d made of her office.
“I am not disorganized—I am new in this town. I am trying my best to do a good job here, but I will not sacrifice time with my patients to satisfy your need for a timetable. I’m sure that, given time, your ‘quotas’ will be met.” She got up, pulled on her jacket and lifted her purse. “Now, if that’s all, I’ve had a very long day. I’d like to get home.”
She was too tired and too frustrated to wait for his assent. She walked out of her office, out of the building and down the street toward Miss Winifred’s.
It really was a glorious evening. The sun was just beginning its descent and the spring air had cooled off enough to bring a quickness to her step. It felt good to stride along, stretching muscles that had been tense for far too long. Her stomach rumbled as she walked, reminding her that lunch had been a long time ago and rather puny at that.
Once on “her” street, as Nicole had begun to think of it, the tension slipped away as she strolled under awnings of newly budded maples, drawing in the scent of crocus, hyacinth and daffodils that blossomed in every yard but the last.
She paused for a moment at the gate to Miss Winifred’s to stare at the house just down the street, across the way. The Darlings lived there. She should have guessed it that first day, but it had taken Miss Winifred to point it out. There were bicycles strewn across the driveway. Bright pink balls, a green plastic doll carriage and a child’s yellow jacket spilled across the still-shaggy grass.
But there were no flowers in the window boxes or tumbling out of the big urns that sat beside the front porch.
“Hey, it’s her!” Ruthie barreled out the front door and down the steps of her house, clad in a flowered pink nightgown and a pair of fuzzy slippers. “Hi, Doc! Remember me?”
“How could I forget?” Nicole grinned. “Hi, Ruthie. How’s the arm?”
“Oh, it’s all right. I hafta get this cast cut off pretty soon, though. Our class is going to take swimming lessons!”
“Hmm. That sounds like fun, but you’ll have to wear it until your arm is healed.” Nicole listened as the little girl chattered about her life.
“Ruthie? You’d better get your butt in here before Dad gets home.” An older version of Ruthie stood on the doorstep, glaring at her sister.
“Do you remember? That’s Rachel. She thinks she’s the boss, but she isn’t. She’s only one year older than me, and I’m six.”
“Ruthie!”
“Just a minute,” Ruthie yelled over her shoulder. She leaned closer to Nicole, her face screwed up in concern. “Quick! What am I supposed to call you? I can’t just say doctor all the time, can I?” Ruthie’s blue eyes darkened as she considered. “You did mean it when you said we’d be friends?”
It had been a ploy, something to get the child to trust her while she treated the arm. Nicole had never had sisters, never been around young children. She knew diddle about being their friend.
But something in this sprite’s eyes made her want to be Ruthie’s friend.
“Ruthie, I’m warning you!”
“I’m coming.” Dejected, Ruthie turned toward the house, slippers flopping as she walked.
“It’s Nicole. You can call me Nicole, Ruthie. And yes, I’d like to be your friend. If you want to.”
“Good.” Ruthie’s smile transformed her face as she raced back, ignoring her sister’s angry squeal. Her head tipped to one side. “But Nicole is what everyone calls you. You should have a special name, a friend name.” Her face tilted up, curiosity evident in the big blue eyes. “Don’t you have one?”
“A special name?” No one had ever called her anything but Nicole. Except her mother, she suddenly remembered. So long ago, when they’d snuggled together and read stories. That’s where Nici had come from.
“You could call me Nici,” she murmured. “My mother used to call me that.”
“Does she still?”
“She’s dead. She died when I was a little girl.”
“Hey,” Ruthie crowed, eyes blazing. “Just like me! My mom died, too. She always called me Ruthie. Now there’s just me an’ Rachel and Roz.” She lowered her voice, checked over one shoulder. “Sometimes I call her Rosie. An’ there’s my dad, of course. He sometimes calls me Ruth Ann. I like Ruthie better.”
“Then Ruthie it is.”
They grinned at each other like coconspirators. The low rumble of an engine drew Ruthie’s attention. She gulped, then offered a watery smile.
“Whoops! It’s my dad. I gotta go.”
She scurried toward the house, turning when she reached the top stair to smile and lift her hand. Her voice rang through the air as clear as a bell.
“See you tomorrow, Nici.” Then Ruthie slipped into her house.
“Good night, Ruthie. See you tomorrow.” Nicole waited just long enough to watch Dr. Darling try to steer into his littered driveway.
Then she turned and quickly walked through the gate and up to her temporary home, determined not to be there when he bawled those darling girls out for leaving their toys in his way.
The red door opened before she got there.
“My dear, what a long day you’ve had!” Miss Winifred ushered her inside. “Come along, I’ve got a bowl of chili just waiting for you, and some of my fresh kaiser rolls to go with it.”
“Sounds perfect.” Nicole shed her coat and bag at the entrance, then followed her hostess through to the kitchen. “Smells good, too.”
She sat down obediently, whispered a quick grace and sampled the big fluffy roll.
“These are wonderful! Did you have a good day at your bakery?”
Nicole knew for a fact that her hostess had risen before four this morning in order to get a head start, and yet Miss Winifred looked as fresh as she always did.
“Yes, thank you, dear. We had a lovely time. Furly Bowes, she’s my assistant, you know. Well, Furly got there long before me, had all the breads nicely rising. We had our cases filled before nine. I do love it when that happens. Folks appreciate a full selection.”
Miss Winifred walked over to the counter and returned with a plain white box with red script running across one corner. Nicole read it surreptitiously. “Blessing Bakery—made with love.”
“I brought you one of my specialties.”
“Oh, you shouldn’t have! Not when I’m such a push-over for anything baked.” Nicole savored the last spoonful of chili with a smile. “We used to have a housekeeper who made shortbread at Christmas. It literally melted in your mouth.”
Now, where had that come from? The people of Blessing, Colorado, didn’t need to know the details of her pathetic past. Nicole lifted the lid of the small square box.
“Oh! It’s a big cookie.”
“One of my love cookies. I only make them when I feel the Lord gives me a special message to pass on.” She sat down across from Nicole, her eyes sparkling. “Go ahead, read it.”
With gentle fingers lest she damage the flaky, heart-shaped cookie, Nicole lifted it out of the box. Vivid red icing spelled out a message.
“All sunshine makes a desert.” Puzzled, she looked across at Miss Winifred. “It’s very nice.”
“Oh, it’s not just nice, dear. Those are words to live by. Problems come to us for a reason and help us appreciate the good times far more than we would have without them. Here, let me pour you some tea to go with that.” She tipped her cornflower teapot, allowing the fragrant aroma of black currents to waft through the room.
“This tea is like nectar.” Nicole sipped again, then broke off a tiny corner of the cookie and ate it. “Your cookies are delicious, too, Miss Winifred. I promise I’ll think about your words.”
“Thank you.” The older woman fiddled with her cup, her forehead wrinkled. Finally she looked up at Nicole. “I haven’t been completely honest with you, dear, and I’m afraid that’s caused you some hurt.”
“What do you mean?”
“Today was difficult, wasn’t it?”
Nicole quickly glanced away. She had no desire to answer.
“I knew it would be.”
