Her Denali Medicine Man

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Her Denali Medicine Man Page 1

by Denise Gwen




  Her Denali Medicine Man

  The Medicine Women of Alaska

  Denise Gwen

  Contents

  Copyright

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Epilogue

  Copyright

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental.

  Her Denali Medicine Man COPYRIGHT©2019 by Denise Barone.

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

  Contact Information: [email protected]

  Cover Art by Amanda Walker PA & Design Services

  Prologue

  University of Nebraska Medical Center

  December 15th

  “Hey, Sis,” Doctor Sarah O’Reilly greeted, as she clicked on her smart phone. “How you doing? Any sign of the baby yet?”

  “Nope, still pregnant,” Doctor Rachel Livingston, her four-years-older sister replied. “And I am so ready for this baby to be born.”

  Sarah leaned back in her chair and stretched. A freshly minted doctor, and finished with her residency, she could now look back on her years of medical school and feel grateful for the fact she’d finally made it.

  “I just finished my rounds, so you called at a good time.”

  “Oh, good.”

  Sarah tensed instantly at the dispiriting tone in her sister’s voice. “What’s wrong?”

  “Am I that obvious?” Rachel laughed nervously.

  “I’ve only known you my whole life, so, yeah, I know my big sissy.”

  In a stricken voice, Rachel continued, “I need your help.”

  “What do you need?”

  “I’m going to jump in and tell you, or, rather, beg you. Will you come to Alaska and run the Tlingit Reservation Medical Clinic in Hoonah for me while I’m on maternity leave?”

  “You want me to come to Alaska?” Sarah straightened up and wheeled her chair around to gaze out the window. The view of the parking lot, in deep winter, did not inspire. She recalled the name of the town where her sister had settled. “You want me to come to Sitka?”

  “Actually, Sitka’s not the problem. I need you to manage the Tlingit Reservation Medical Clinic, up in Hoonah.”

  “Why can’t Paul visit the reservation once every week?” Sarah asked, even while hating herself for asking. Her sister and her husband were both doctors. They ran a thriving medical practice in Sitka, and they also devoted part of their time to the Tlingit Tribe Reservation Clinic. They ran two busy practices, and deep in her heart, she knew, if her sister was asking her to manage a clinic for her, then she was desperate.

  Something serious is wrong, or else she wouldn’t be asking me.

  “Paul’s worried about me. He doesn’t want me to take the ferry to the reservation every day, especially not while I’m home on bed rest. He wants to stay home and keep an eye on me.”

  Sarah winced at the reminder that she didn’t have a husband, and then her senses prickled.

  “Why are you on bed rest?”

  “I’ve got the beginning symptoms of pre-eclampsia,” Rachel said, tension rimming her voice. “And Paul’s kind of scared.”

  “You sound a little bit scared yourself,” Sarah said gently.

  “I am. I really am, Sarah. Olivia was such an easy delivery, but with this one, first thing I do, is develop gestational diabetes, and now this . . . ” her voice trailed off.

  Sarah let this sink in for a moment before answering. Rachel was thirty-two and this baby was going to be her last. When Rachel was twenty-eight—Sarah’s present age—she was already married and the mother of Olivia.

  Sarah’s biological clock had waited until she’d finished her residency to start ringing, big time, and it hurt, just a little, to talk to a sister who was blissfully pregnant with her second child, although the bliss was on short supply these days.

  Who am I kidding? It hurts a lot!

  “Rachel, honestly, -I-I-I just don’t know. Dad’s not doing so great.”

  “I know,” Rachel said.

  Their father, recently widowed, had begun his precipitous decline. Sarah didn’t share this opinion with her sister, but she sensed that he wasn’t going to last another year. This Christmas would probably be his last.

  “I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t urgent.”

  “I can tell,” Sarah said. “I can hear it in your voice. How soon are you talking?”

  Rachel laughed grimly. “Can you be on the next plane?”

  “That bad, huh?”

  Sarah spared the boring parking lot another withering glance and chided herself for being so wrapped up in her own problems that she’d failed to notice her sister’s distress. Rachel was trying to sound light-hearted, but Sarah detected the underlying terror in her voice.

  “You’re not going to lose the baby, are you?” Sarah asked.

  A hiccup, then a sob. “I don’t think so, but I’m scared, you know?”

  “Yeah, sweetie, I know.”

  “I can’t take care of my patients anymore. I can’t manage it.”

  Sarah’s mind whirred.

  Her timing’s perfect. My new position at the teaching hospital starts January first, but I’m sure I could postpone it, by, say, six weeks or so.

  Perhaps, the time apart might encourage her boyfriend, Grant, to straighten out his priorities. If she left for a month or two, it’d give him a chance to focus on the department chair, and their relationship, without worrying about her.

  “You know,” Sarah said slowly, “I’ve always wanted to visit Alaska.”

  “I’m so grateful for you,” Rachel said, her voice ragged.

  “And I’m so grateful for you. When do I leave?”

  Chapter 1

  Tlingit Reservation Medical Clinic, the inside passage, near Juneau

  December 19th

  “When is this sister of yours going to show up?” Physician’s Assistant, Jake Roundtree, walked out of a patient exam room, sauntered over to the nurses’ station, and dropped the patient file onto the counter in front of Dr. Rachel Livingston. He shoved his hands deep into his pockets and gazed down at her as she studied a chart on her laptop.

  Rachel glanced up at him and grinned. “Are you hoping to fall in love with my younger sister, Dr. Jake?”

  “Humph,” Jake snorted and rocked back on his heels.

  This had been a running joke between them, ever since Monday, when Dr. Rachel told him that her sister was flying up from the lower forty-nine to run the Tlingit Clinic for her. He cast a sidelong glance at her swollen belly and grimaced.

  This sister had better get here soon, before Dr. Rachel goes into labor.

  “So, what’s the 411 on Doctor Sarah O’Reilly?” Jake inquired.

  “Oh, she’s smart.”

  “You’re not gonna tell me anything, are you?”

  His smile faded as her face contorted with sudden pain.

  “Doc? Rachel? You okay?”

  She closed her eyes for a long moment; he watched as she breathed in slowly, then let it out, then opened her eyes.

 
“I’m okay,” she said finally.

  “Another Braxton Hicks contraction?”

  “Yes.”

  “Are you sure it’s not real labor starting?”

  “No,” she said firmly. “Paul says I’m not due to deliver till January second.”

  “He’s been wrong before, you know,” Jake said.

  She smiled up at him. “I’m fine, Jake. Just another Braxton Hicks.”

  “Okay, Doc, if you’re sure.”

  Rachel rose unsteadily to her feet. “You wanna know something, Jake, I think I will go lie down for a few minutes.”

  “Okay, Doc.”

  Jake watched with uneasiness as she made her way to the break-room and kitchenette. He walked back over to the window overlooking the parking lot and sighed.

  Sarah O’Reilly had better get here soon.

  Sarah stayed awake most of the trip to the Tlingit Reservation Medical Center, including the ferry ride, listening to her brother-in-law, Paul Livingston, as he told her of the Tlingit people, but in the last ten minutes of the drive, her jet lag and her exhaustion overcame her, and she dozed off.

  The SUV bumped hard on something in the roadway then, suddenly, the rhythmic and soothing sensation of a car in movement came to an abrupt stop.

  “Sarah, we’re here.”

  “What? Oh, well, my goodness.” Sarah opened her eyes and looked around her with confusion. All she saw was dense forest. “Where?”

  “Here.”

  Paul pulled the SUV slowly down the incline and, as the trees parted way, she gazed up at the low-slung building with the sign Tlingit Reservation Medical Clinic above it, and her heart plummeted.

  It looks . . . small.

  Paul had been raving to her about the new facility, how modern, how wonderful it was, and she’d allowed her hopes to rise.

  Paul must’ve seen the look on her face, for he smiled. “It’s brand new to me, but I’m sure it’s something of a letdown to you.”

  “Oh, no, no,” she assured him hastily, while inwardly, she agreed. She’d grown accustomed to top-rate facilities during her medical school years, but it wasn’t just the size of the place that made her uneasy; it struck her as forlorn.

  I only have to stay here six weeks. As soon as Rachel returns to the clinic, I can head home to Omaha . . . and to Grant.

  “We here?” a plaintive voice called from the backseat.

  Olivia, Sarah’s four-year-old niece, had fallen asleep after the ferry ride

  “Yes, honey,” Paul said. “We’re here.”

  “Mommy?”

  “She’s inside, sweetheart,” Sarah said. She unbuckled her seat belt, and as she opened the passenger side door, a blast of frigid air slapped her face. She’d grown up in Nebraska, she was accustomed to cold, but the chill of this wind shot straight through her.

  “Brrrr,” she shivered, and drew her heavy coat across her torso as she jumped out, shut the door, and flung open the backseat door. She climbed up and onto the seat and kneeled as she unbuckled her niece from her bucket seat. Olivia tumbled into her arms and burrowed her face in Sarah’s shoulder. “Mommy,” she whimpered.

  “We’ll get you to Mommy in just a jiffy,” Sarah said. She kissed the child’s forehead and snuggled the girl against her chest and wrapped the folds of her coat around her. Olivia wrapped her arms around Sarah’s neck and Sarah’s heart melted and warmed her in the frigid air.

  Paul slammed the door shut and walked across the frozen tundra, his medical kit tucked under his arm. “It’s this way. I’ll bring in our bags later, after we eat.”

  “Okay.”

  Sarah’s belly growled. She’d been so busy talking to Paul during the journey from Sitka, she’d nearly forgotten her hunger, but now that a meal awaited, she realized she was starving.

  “Stay close to me,” Paul called out. “The winds can get really bad, up here on the mountain.”

  “You don’t need to remind me,” Sarah muttered, and hurried to catch up to him.

  “Hurry, Aunt Sarah,” Olivia said.

  “I am,” Sarah said, and a sliver of chill crept down her spine.

  Jake Roundtree’s first impression of Sarah O’Reilly shocked him to his core.

  She’s a beauty.

  He’d been standing at the window, close by the entrance, when he saw two hooded figures approaching from the dark, and he recognized the taller one instantly as Doctor Paul Livingston. The shorter figure looked somewhat stout, until he saw a tiny face peeping from the top of the figure’s coat.

  Olivia. And Sarah must be carrying her.

  He hurried to the front entrance and opened the door to admit them, and they hurried in with a gale force wind blowing against their backs.

  “Oh, my goodness!” Sarah said.

  “It cold!” Olivia crowed.

  “It’s good to see you all made it back… safe and sound,” Jake said, gazing closely at Sarah as she stood in the foyer of the medical clinic.

  He gave himself a moment to peruse Doctor Sarah O’Reilly. Her cheeks, flushed pink from the cold, gave her an animated appearance, and as she gazed around her with interest, he got an unprecedented opportunity to simply drink her in.

  Wow. She’s just… wow.

  Medium height, slender, with a heart-shaped face, a sallow complexion, and luxurious, raven-black hair piled up on her head and with wisps of hair framing her face, he’d never seen a more beautiful girl before in his life.

  As she shook her head, the loosely coiled bun came loose, and her long hair cascaded down her back, mixing in with the ice crystals on her coat, giving her hair a translucent appearance.

  Well, there was one, before her.

  Sarah was in shock.

  Paul had raved to her about Jake Roundtree, how kind he was, how hard-working, how great he was as a physician’s assistant and with the patients—and, except for the one piece of information that Paul let slip, that Jake prescribed medications, highly improper—the guy sounded like a saint, but when she finally caught sight of him, she inhaled sharply.

  Oh, my God, he’s gorgeous!

  A tall, muscular man stood in the foyer with his hands shoved deep inside his white lab-coat. His gaze focused on the floor as he rocked back and forth on his heels, apparently lost in thought. His head rose and his eyes settled on the three of them, giving a wide, happy grin.

  Sarah looked at him, a sensation of something hot and exotic rippled through her.

  But after the introductions were made . . . that’s when the problems started.

  Jake had expected Rachel Livingston’s sister to be her mirror image. He loved Rachel Livingston, he thought her a fine doctor and a lovely person, but in the mutual attraction department, she simply didn’t do it for him. Rachel was tall and willowy, with strawberry-blonde hair trimmed neatly to her shoulders. She was also aloof, which he’d initially surmised was due to her training as a doctor, but finally attributed it as her nature.

  From the way Sarah handled little Olivia on her hip, he sensed that she had a warmer spirit and temperament.

  He shoved his hands deep into the pockets of his lab coat and fought a rising nervousness.

  “Uncle Jake!” Olivia cried out. “This is my auntie Sarah. She’s from the lower forty-nine.”

  “The lower forty-nine, eh?” Jake asked.

  “Yes,” Olivia said. “She’s from Nebraska.”

  “Ah,” Jake smiled, gazing into the bright green eyes of this beautiful woman.

  “Yes,” Sarah said with a wry smile. “And the weather’s not too far different here from what’s going on down in the—what did you call it, Olivia—the lower forty-nine?”

  “Jake, Jake, Jake!” Olivia cried out. “Hold me, hold me, hold me!”

  He’d been reaching for Sarah’s hand for a handshake, but Olivia wriggled out of her aunt’s arms and she let the child to the ground—a bit ungently, at that—and Olivia ran to him wrapping her little arms around him as he hugged her.

  Olivia squealed and s
creamed with joy, but as he glanced over his shoulder at Sarah, he saw a look of annoyance flashing across her face.

  What’s the matter with you, lady? I guess I made a mistake. You don’t like children that much.

  Okay, so first impressions . . . could be wrong impressions.

  Dr. Sarah O’Reilly’s the prettiest lady I’ve seen in my life, but wow, what a cold fish!

  And, just like that, his favorable impression of her dimmed.

  Once Grant gets named as the department chair of the pediatric oncology unit, he’ll be ready to marry me. I need to keep reminding myself of this fact.

  As Olivia cooed in Jake’s arms, Sarah gazed at the clinic. A tiny part of her grew uneasy. This place was small. How in the world did Rachel and Paul run a practice here, let alone provide good quality care to the members of the Tlingit Reservation?

  She shook out the remaining hair from the rubber band, her scalp enjoying the freedom from the band that’d held it off her neck for the past hour. She ran her fingers lightly through her it and took a few steps around the foyer.

  Grant wouldn’t be the least bit impressed with this place. He’d be horrified.

  An ache of loneliness rose in her heart and she tried to push back her sad feelings. Grant would be waiting for her when she got back. He’d told her the six weeks would pass like quicksilver.

  Doctor Grant McCall had been first her professor, then her friend, then her boyfriend, and now her live-in lover. Despite her reservations about the propriety of it—and pretending to their father that she was still living on her own—she’d moved in with Grant four weeks earlier in the hopes that he’d soon produce a ring.

  Sarah’s mind remained focused on marriage and babies, but the only topic occupying Grant’s time and energy these days, was his relentless campaign to get named as the department chair of the pediatric oncology unit.

 

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