Mending the Doctor's Heart
Page 1
Rivals Of The Heart
A new job in Paradise, Colorado, seems like the perfect fresh start for Dr. Ben Rogers. Only problem is, Dr. Sara Elliot has been counting on getting the same job. Once they negotiate a shared trial run, Ben expects working with Sara to be less than pleasant. Instead, he finds himself drawn to her. She’s dedicated and compassionate, exactly the type of woman he used to want—when family was an option. Yet Ben is surprised to learn that Sara’s life is just as emotionally complicated as his own. And if there isn’t room for both of them at work, how can they make room for each other in their hearts?
How many medical positions could there be in a community this size?
Though Ben didn’t want to ask, he had to. “What position, if you don’t mind my asking?”
“Clinical Director of the Community Outreach Clinic. It’s a new program,” Sara explained. “They’re trying to reach the outlying, underserved rural population and seasonal workers and their families.” Excitement lit her eyes as she spoke.
Ben nodded. Oh, he was well versed in the vision for the new clinic, all right. Sara’s enthusiasm was well-placed. The entire project stirred a professional anticipation and energy he hadn’t felt in a very long time.
“I’ve been waiting years for this clinic to become a reality,” she said.
The earnestness in her voice brought his own doubts tumbling out. Hadn’t the Lord led him to Paradise and this job?
Ben met her gaze head-on. “Um, Sara. There’s something you ought to know.”
She cocked her head in question. “What’s that?”
“I’m in Paradise interviewing for the same position.”
Books by Tina Radcliffe
Love Inspired
The Rancher’s Reunion
Oklahoma Reunion
Mending the Doctor’s Heart
TINA RADCLIFFE
has been dreaming and scribbling for years. Originally from Western New York, she left home for a tour of duty with the Army Security Agency stationed in Augsburg, Germany, and ended up in Tulsa, Oklahoma. While living in Tulsa she spent ten years as a certified oncology R.N. A former library cataloger, she now works for a large mail-order pharmacy. Tina currently resides in the foothills of Colorado, where she writes heartwarming romance. You can reach her at www.tinaradcliffe.com.
Mending the
Doctor’s Heart
Tina Radcliffe
Trust in the Lord with all thine heart; and lean not unto thine own understanding. In all thy ways acknowledge him, and he shall direct thy paths.
—Proverbs 3:5,6
Once upon a time I was blessed to work as an Oncology Certified R.N. in Tulsa, Oklahoma, at Camelot, also known as the City of Faith Hospital. This book is dedicated to all the wonderful, Christian nurses, doctors, aides, techs
and support staff who saved lives and shared
the Gospel during their shifts.
To Sharon Medley, thank you for reading
my first chapters and giving me your honest feedback. As always, thank you to my husband, Tom, who never tires of the signs on my office door telling him ‘Do Not Disturb, Writing In Progress.’ Of course it takes a village; in my case that village is called Seekerville: Mary, Ruthy, Debby, Julie, Sandra, Missy, Audra, Janet, Cara, Myra,
Pam and Glynna. Thank you, sisters in the Lord,
for your support.
Many thanks to my editor, Rachel Burkot,
who blesses me with her discerning editorial eye and her cheerful heart, and who makes me
a better writer. A final thank-you to my
supportive agent Meredith Bernstein,
who always makes me feel like a champion.
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Epilogue
Dear Reader
Questions for Discussion
Chapter One
Welcome to Paradise.
Ben Rogers stared at the glossy white sign posted in front of a row of tall Colorado conifers.
Paradise? Doubtful.
Salvation? Possibly.
He shook his head and chuckled.
At least he still had a sense of humor. That was pretty much all he’d taken with him from Denver, besides his leather medical bag and whatever fit in his Land Rover. His future lay beyond the welcome sign that boasted a population of seventeen hundred.
Ben guided his vehicle around an enormous pothole and straight into the heart of the small mountain town. Paradise, Colorado, was nestled in the San Luis Valley, with the Sangre De Cristo Mountains to the north and the San Juan Mountains to the west. At eight thousand feet, the elevation of Paradise was even higher than Denver’s fifty-two eighty.
The mountains provided a picturesque backdrop for the shops that lined the main thoroughfare and the sidewalks dotted with wrought-iron benches and masses of bright summer flowers that overflowed sidewalk pots.
Carolyn would have loved Paradise.
Ben winced, then rubbed a hand across his face. Six months had passed since he’d lost her, but he continued to see the world through his little sister’s eyes.
His stomach growled, offering a distraction. After a four-hour drive he was starving. A glance at the clock on the dash confirmed there was just enough time to grab something to eat before he retrieved the key to his rental cabin and headed to an appointment with his new boss, the medical director of the Paradise Community Hospital. He pulled into an open parking spot along the curb and glanced around.
Would it be The Prospector restaurant, or Patti Jo’s Café and Bakery? Ben stepped out of the Land Rover and inhaled.
Cinnamon rolls?
The tantalizing aromas of butter, cinnamon and vanilla lured him to a quaint shop with etched-glass windows.
Oh, yeah. Patti Jo’s won, hands down.
Tinkling bells sounded as he opened the bright crimson door. Before him, customers patiently stood in line at the single cash register, most perusing the glass cases filled with pastries as they waited. Ben scanned the small room, noting that every single bistro table and red leather booth was occupied.
Waiting wasn’t his strong suit. Maybe he’d try the restaurant instead.
He turned to leave just as an elderly man seated at a table to his far left began to cough. Mere moments later, the man stood and clutched his throat before he stumbled back from the table. The coughing stopped, and his face took on a blue tinge.
Without thinking, adrenaline surging, Ben pushed forward through the customers.
But not soon enough.
The man crumpled, striking his head on the table edge as he spiraled down to the floor. Ben reached him and automatically slid his fingers along the victim’s neck.
Pulse still strong. Thank You, God.
He placed his ear to the man’s chest.
Air movement negligent.
Tilting the man’s head, Ben searched his mouth for an obstruction. None evident. Yet something had occluded his airway.
“Everyone step
back.” Ben turned to a waitress and nodded toward the silver-haired woman who hovered close. “Can you help her to a chair?”
He made purposeful eye contact with the cashier, a young girl whose face was pale, her eyes rounded.
“What’s your name?” Ben asked, while quickly positioning himself behind the barely conscious man.
“Susan.”
The girl’s frantic glances darted back and forth from the man on the floor and then to him again.
“Susan, look at me,” he commanded. “I need you to call 9-1-1. Right now. Okay?”
She nodded and pulled a cell phone from her smock pocket.
Arms around the fallen man’s waist, Ben gave a practiced abdominal thrust. Once. Twice. Three times. The air pressure action caused something to dislodge and shoot from the man’s mouth into the air. A sharp sucking inhalation filled the now-silent room before the man coughed, and then began normal respirations.
“That’s it,” he encouraged. “Just breathe. I’ve got you.”
A collective sound of relief fluttered through the small crowd.
Ben’s own breathing slowed now that the crisis was over. For a moment he simply rested on his haunches, stunned with the realization that he’d just responded to an emergency like his old self. There’d been zero time for second thoughts, self-doubting or the crippling panic attacks.
He swallowed hard and took a deep breath.
Thank You, Lord. Thank You.
Easing the elderly man away from him, Ben began a quick inspection of his head, parting the gray hairs where blood oozed from a scalp wound.
“I’ve got gauze for that laceration.”
Ben turned, his gaze slamming into the clear green eyes of a petite dark-haired woman, about his age. She reached a latex-gloved hand forward and applied pressure to the victim’s head.
“Thanks,” Ben murmured, grateful for the assist.
After a minute, the woman lifted the corner of the now blood-saturated gauze.
He peered at the site. “Not too bad.”
“Nothing a couple sutures won’t fix,” she said.
Surprised, Ben glanced over his shoulder and gave a nod of agreement at her words. Her confident demeanor said she obviously had a medical background.
Before he could consider that further, the siren of an emergency vehicle echoed. The sound became louder and louder until two paramedics burst through the door of the shop.
As they strode toward him, Ben carefully rose to transfer the care of the victim for a complete evaluation.
“Choking incident. Resolved with Heimlich.” Ben addressed the uniformed medics. “Minor scalp laceration, approximately one-eighth centimeter, secondary to head trauma.”
He turned away, relieved that everyone’s attention was on the victim, which allowed him to slip to the front door.
As he turned away, the elderly woman who’d been with the fallen man grabbed Ben’s arm.
“Thank you, son,” she said. “You saved my husband’s life.” Her soft eyes overflowed with emotion as they met his.
“You’re welcome, ma’am.”
Head bowed, Ben collected himself. He’d doubted himself for so long; the simple thank you touched a place inside that desperately needed affirmation. Maybe God could still use him.
When he looked up, his eyes met the familiar gaze of the woman who’d assisted him. She pulled hand sanitizer from a first-aid kit that now sat on the café table and squeezed some liquid into her palm before handing the bottle to him.
“Here you go, Doc.”
“Thanks. How’d you know I’m a doctor?”
“Would you believe it takes one to know one?” Amusement skittered across her face.
“Really?” Ben smiled. As he cleaned his hands, he noted with interest her red-plaid Western shirt, well-worn and snug jeans and scuffed cowboy boots. A doctor, huh?
“I’m Sara Elliott. Dr. Sara Elliott.”
“Ben Rogers. Nice to meet you.”
He couldn’t resist a further assessment, from the sprinkling of light freckles that dusted her small nose to the teasing smile that touched her lips and reached her eyes. There was something about the pint-sized beauty that sharpened his senses.
“Nice job with Orvis.”
“Orvis?”
“Orvis Carter. His daughter-in-law owns this café.”
Ben nodded as he digested the information. When his gaze met Sara’s and held for a long moment, he was surprised at the connection between them. Or had he imagined it?
Flustered, Sara Elliott pushed a thick, dark braid over her shoulder and shoved a few loose tendrils of hair back from her face. No, she seemed as taken off guard as he was.
The slight tilting of her head revealed a long, thin scar running from her temple to her ear, parallel with her hairline. It was obvious from the silvery shade and flattened texture that it was years old.
Curious.
Ben looked away, then slid his phone from his pocket, grimacing when he saw the time. “I hate to Heimlich and run, but I’ve got to be somewhere.”
He pushed open the door of the shop and moved the conversation past the still-lingering crowd and the paramedics who were finishing up, out to the sidewalk.
“No problem.” She followed him outside. “I’m sure we’ll meet again. Paradise is a small town.”
“Do you live here?”
“I grew up in Paradise.” She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and leaned closer, her voice conspiratorial. “But the truth is, I’m here about a job.”
“Oh?” Ben froze, his mind calculating. How many medical positions could there be in a community this size? He’d done his homework. Paradise Hospital itself only had four physicians on staff, and there were a handful of family-practice physicians scattered throughout the valley.
Though he didn’t want to ask, he had to. “What position, if you don’t mind my asking?”
“Clinical Director of the Community Outreach Clinic.”
This time his brows shot up. If Sara took the response as confusion, she was right.
Almost.
“It’s a new program,” she explained. “They’re trying to reach the outlying, underserved rural population and seasonal workers and their families.” Excitement lit her eyes as she spoke. “There’s also a plan for a clinic team to assist during severe weather emergencies that can hit the valley and the foothills.”
Ben nodded. Oh, he was well versed in the goals, the budget and the vision for the new clinic, all right. Yeah, Sara’s enthusiasm was well placed. The entire project stirred a professional anticipation and energy he hadn’t felt in a very long time.
“I’ve been waiting years for this clinic to become a reality,” she said.
The earnestness in her voice brought his own doubts tumbling out. Hadn’t the Lord led him to Paradise and this job?
Ben met her gaze head-on. “Um, Sara. There’s something you ought to know.”
She cocked her head in question. “What’s that?”
“I’m in Paradise interviewing for the same position.”
* * *
Sara opened her mouth then closed it. Not really?
She looked at Ben. His chocolate-brown eyes were unwavering, and the expression on his face said he was very serious.
That didn’t make sense. The director position had been all but given to her.
She glanced at the tall, lean man in front of her again, scrutinizing his reserved expression, doing her best to ignore his appeal in the expensive black polo shirt and crisp tan chinos.
“Awkward,” Ben murmured. He ran a hand through his well-kept dark hair and shook his head.
“I’ll say.” His discomfort only matched her own. “So, you’re meeting with the medical director t
oday?” she asked.
“A Dr. Rhoades? Yeah.” Once again he glanced at his phone. “I’ve really got to get going. Been on the road for hours. I need a quick shower and change of clothes.”
“Where are you staying?”
“I’ve rented a place.”
Sara blinked. “Already?”
He shrugged. “Obviously there was some miscommunication.”
“You’ve quit your job, as well?”
“No, I’ve been on a...sabbatical.”
Was that a flash of pain she saw in his eyes before he looked away? There was obviously a story to be told. One he wasn’t going to share with a stranger.
“And you?” he asked. “You said you grew up here.”
“I did, but I live in Boulder. I’ve been back for several weeks now. My father had a cardiac incident.”
Ben furrowed his brows. “I’m sorry to hear that. He’s okay?”
“What he is is stubborn.” Sara shook her head. “My reason for moving back to Paradise.”
He took a step toward the curb. “That’s admirable.”
“Hardly, but let’s not even go there.” Sara waved a hand in the air. “Besides, you have to get going.”
His eyes widened a fraction, but she ignored the question on his face.
“What time is your appointment?” she asked.
“Two.” He pulled car keys from his pocket.
“I’m meeting with him at three.”
“I see. Well, ah, good luck, then.”
“Thanks. You, too.”
Ben seemed to hesitate, glancing down at the sidewalk, then up before he spoke again. “Sara.”
The pleasant sound of her name on his lips surprised her. “Yes?” she asked as their gazes connected.
“No matter how it turns out, it was nice to have met you.”
She paused at the words, her response a breathless, “Thank you.”
With a crooked smile, he turned away.
Sara followed his easy gait as he walked down the street.
Oh, no, no. This was not good.