Nina saluted and disappeared into the waiting room.
For half a second, she considered checking the messages. Just because it had never been an emergency before didn’t mean today was the same. Except Nina would have correctly assessed the situation just as she’d diagnosed the next patient.
Her mother could wait. Work could not.
Elaine scooped up the file and quickly entered the next exam room.
“Hailey, it’s been a while since we’ve seen you. How’s the rabbit?” Elaine shook hands with Hailey’s mother, whose name she could not remember.
“He’s good. Fat!” Hailey said with a delighted sparkle in her eyes just before she sneezed.
“She’s got a terrible sneeze, coughs all night and I’m afraid her temperature’s up,” her mother said. “It’s probably a cold, but I wanted to make sure.”
Elaine nodded as she listened to Hailey’s lungs, checked her temperature and took a look at her throat and ears. “Well, it looks to me like she’s the latest to catch the cold tearing through town. Something for the cough and congestion will ease the symptoms.” Elaine made some notes then ripped off the top page of her notepad and handed it to Hailey’s mother. “These over-the-counter meds should help.”
“So...no shot?” Hailey asked and then clapped her hands. “Yes!”
“I can tell you’re disappointed. I could round up a shot for you,” Elaine said. She might not have kids, but she liked them. They didn’t usually return the favor, at least not while she was wearing a stethoscope around her neck.
“No, thank you,” Hailey said and rolled her eyes. She straightened the bow in her curls and then carefully folded the pleats in her skirt. Hailey had a unique style. This was a girl who loved color. All of them. And all at once.
“I really like your tights, Hailey. Did you wear those to impress me?” They were striped with all the colors of the rainbow. Elaine looked at her pale green scrubs and wished for more color of her own.
“I like rainbows. Did you know you can only see a rainbow if you’re standing with your back to the sun?” Hailey nodded her head to add extra weight to her delivery. “It’s true.”
“Of course. Did you know that rainbows are made from light bouncing off raindrops?” Elaine answered.
Hailey rolled her eyes again, and Elaine knew she had to up her game.
“Uh, yeah. Did you know double rainbows are caused when light is reflected twice? And you can have even three or four rainbows together, although I’ve never seen one of those.” Hailey looked a little brokenhearted at the confession.
Elaine glanced at her mother and then back to Hailey. Obviously, the girl loved science. Hailey might be Elaine a couple of decades ago.
Her mother waved a hand, a slightly rueful smile on her face. “Unless you want to do this all day, I’d move on, Dr. Watson. I keep hoping she’ll grow out of it, start asking for makeup and pop music.” That was another reminder of the young Elaine—a mother who wanted her to be something she wasn’t.
“Maybe she’ll be a doctor someday,” Elaine said.
Hailey straightened her shoulders and smoothed down her skirt again. “I’m going to be the president someday.”
Elaine studied her face. “Maybe you could be both.”
Hailey brightened as if the idea of choosing had been a real problem. Then she sneezed, and Elaine handed her a tissue. “If you could come up with a cure for colds before you become leader of the free world, we’d all be in your debt.”
Hailey held up her hand for a high five. Elaine answered Hailey’s high five and watched her blow her nose. After washing her hands, Elaine opened the door. “Come in next week if the symptoms aren’t significantly improved.”
Hailey’s mother smiled. Hailey hopped off the exam table in a blur of rainbow colors. Elaine watched them leave and then walked over to Nina. “Looks like you’re right.”
Elaine added a note to the file and slid it across to her.
Nina saluted and handed her the next folder. “One of the Shady Ladies is waiting. Just a follow-up for Sue Jackson.”
Elaine grinned at Nina’s affectionate nickname for the ladies who lived at Shady Pines, the assisted-living facility in town. If they ever heard her use it, they’d have T-shirts made up and start a bowling team to have somewhere to wear them.
“Everything okay in the waiting room?” Elaine asked as she glanced at the doorway. She did not want to check for herself.
Nina’s lips twitched. “We handled it without you.”
Elaine blushed and then laughed. “Of course you did. That’s why I can’t do this by myself.”
Nina brushed that off. “Best doctor in town. Everyone says so, and you know it. Vomit being your kryptonite doesn’t change that fact.” She glared at the ringing phone. “Don’t forget we’re all headed to the Smokehouse for dinner. Wendy’s birthday.”
“Sorry, but I’ve got a shift at the clinic. You guys party without me.” Elaine straightened the stack of forms on the counter in front of her and then shoved her hands into her pockets. “I’ll tell Wendy happy birthday.” Now that Nina had reminded her.
“Sure thing.” Nina’s smile didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Hope you’ll get a day off soon, though. It would be good for you.”
Nina might be right. Elaine had been wondering if she’d know what to do with a full weekend off. She might remember to buy a birthday card for the woman who kept the lights on and the office running.
But as long as her patients needed her, she couldn’t slow down.
That was what she told her mother every time the subject came up.
It wasn’t entirely a lie. After a lifetime of hitting goals and pushing herself, she felt guilty if she sometimes wished for a few hours to drive to Lawrence to buy new shoes.
“Thanks for all your hard work, Nina. I couldn’t manage without you.” Elaine fought the urge to scurry away because a patient was waiting. She wanted to be sure Nina understood how important she was. Normally, Elaine did the job and let the emotions settle where they would, but something about today made it important to say exactly what she meant.
“You aren’t dying, are you?” Nina raised both eyebrows. “You don’t do the touchy-feely.”
“Definitely not dying. I’m a doctor. I would know.” Elaine waved her file. “And on that note, I’ll get back to work.”
“These sick people won’t cure themselves.” Nina zoomed around her to find the next patient to fill up the currently empty exam room.
Elaine tapped the file on her hand and considered that. Nina was exactly right. She was the best doctor in town. She’d worked hard to get here, and she was doing what she was meant to do. That should be satisfying. And it was. She was proud of herself and what she’d accomplished, but lately she’d been wondering if there was supposed to be more. Or at least a bit of breathing room.
The thought of slowing down scared her. What if her practice slipped? What if she disappointed her patients?
Who would she be if she wasn’t the number one doctor in town?
Elaine rubbed her forehead to ease the nagging headache that came from second-guessing her life and not getting enough sleep. Learning to relax wouldn’t be the worst idea. Maybe she should take the advice she’d given Robert Collins. A new hobby could improve her whole outlook.
And if that hobby was restoring an old inn, the site of her favorite family getaways, she could also make another dream come true.
All she had to do was convince Dean Collins to hit the road again and she would have the Bluebird all for herself. How hard could it be?
CHAPTER TWO
DEAN COLLINS FOUGHT the urge to kick his feet like a bored four-year-old. After reading all the news he could get his hands on—old issues of the local paper, the state paper and his favorite online news sit
es—he’d come to sit on the edge of the dock while his father fished. Dean had wanted to start a conversation or make a connection or whatever the proper term was for two grown men talking about their feelings.
And they were sitting in silence.
Like they did most of the time, in fact. He raveled the edge of the latest pair of jeans he’d managed to destroy. For years, his wardrobe consisted of heavy boots, worn jeans and a collection of T-shirts that could fit in a backpack. No shorts. But these had a ripped knee and a bloodstain from an ill-fated trek from Dharamsala. That was the kind of thing he did for fun: climb mountains and shake off a skinned knee when the climb turned into a tumble.
Now he dangled his feet in the water and hoped for a nibble—anything exciting. Adjusting to the change of pace was harder than he’d thought it would be.
“Nice weather.” The whole world over, there was one topic of conversation everyone could fall back on: the weather forecast. Maybe they were on different sides of hot vs. cold or wet vs. dry, but everyone had an opinion about the weather. Tall Pines was no exception.
In fact, the weekly forecast enjoyed some prime real estate on the last page of the Times. Most of the world had gone to infographics. Not so here. He’d actually had to read the forecast so he was prepared to converse.
Obviously, there was no need yet. His father’s grunt could be taken as either agreement or disagreement, but it didn’t do much to pick up the conversational ball and run with it.
Even if they’d had a rousing conversation about precipitation, he’d still be bored.
Or maybe restless, antsy. Thinking could be trouble, but the urge to move usually kept him distracted. Outrunning bad memories was a habit he’d picked up early. His problem now was that, no matter how fast or far he went, they were catching up.
So, with his first strategy failing, he’d come back to the place it all started: home.
“How’d the doctor visit go?” A question that required either an answer or outright rudeness. That ought to open the door.
“Good.”
So the question wasn’t as foolproof as he thought. “Sheesh, no need to talk my ear off.”
His dad glanced in his direction. “You’re one to talk. Ready to tell me about this concussion and why you don’t sleep?”
Dean pulled his feet out of the water and stood. “You know the military. Bunch of worriers.”
His dad’s lips formed a thin line, and Dean was afraid he was coming up with questions Dean had no answers for. “Right. They do love to coddle the journalists they cram in beside their delicate soldiers.”
Dean rolled up the sleeves of the flannel shirt he’d pulled on over his ragged jeans and stepped into flip-flops that looked as though they’d been feeding a small family of rodents. “The unit I was with got caught in a firefight with a small band of rebels. There was an explosion. No one was killed, but I hit my head. Saw stars. That was enough for the army doctors.” He shoved his hands into his pockets. “You know me. I’ve had way worse.”
His dad was quiet for too long. Finally, he said, “At least it brought you home for a few days.”
His father never had been good at guilt trips, but he might be getting better.
“I’m glad you had a nice visit,” Dean mumbled and turned to go...somewhere. He had no idea where, but he’d made his effort for the day.
His father’s voice stopped him. “Invited her out. She’s coming to take a look around.”
“Who? The doctor? Why?” The place definitely would not show well, not yet. He’d get to work on that soon, but not today. Today was for forcing himself to take it slow. He had to learn sometime, and the sooner, the better.
His dad sighed and pulled his pole out of the water to set it on the dock. “She used to visit. Loved the tearoom and the inn.”
Dean looked over his shoulder at the house he’d grown up in. When his mother was alive, she’d settled for nothing less than pristine white paint with bright blue shutters, precisely manicured gardens and flags snapping in the breeze to welcome visitors.
The gray boards and peeling paint, ragged flower beds and air of general fatigue almost made it hard to believe it was the same place.
Except the beautiful bones were still there. He counted six windows across the front of the house, the finest guest rooms, and wished he’d thought to camp in one of those. The view of the lake might have helped calm some of his anger and irritation and just...overwhelming emotion.
Something had to or he might have a meltdown, lose the control he’d worked so hard to hold on to. Sometimes, when he was staring out the window in the middle of the night, he wondered if he was already there.
“Hope she’s not too disappointed,” his father murmured, and Dean turned to see his dad’s eyes were locked on him.
“I wish I’d known, Dad. I might have been able to help.” And the guilt he’d been buried under when he’d lurched to a stop under the old oak tree would have been much lighter. But he hadn’t known. Because he hadn’t been home in a long time.
Without his mother to hold them together, he and his dad had struggled. It was easier to take the next story, jump on a plane and tell himself it was all for his career. His father never complained about missing him and never mentioned needing help. He’d thought they were both satisfied.
Until that career nearly killed him, and he had nowhere else to go.
“Well, I’m here now, and I think I know what to do to get this place up and running. We’re going to make some changes.” He tried to infuse the statement with confidence. The last time he’d suggested changes, he’d been too young and unstable to convince his father. Now both of them and the Bluebird were in desperate need of a change.
“About that...” His father turned to look out over the shore next to the short dock. “She wants to buy the Bluebird. Renovate it. Maybe we should consider that. Neither one of us should be tied down by the past.”
Speechless, Dean stared at his pale feet and the weathered boards of the dock. He’d never really thought about a life without the inn. Knowing it would always be here when he was ready made it easier to brave the most dangerous spots on the planet. He’d trusted his father to make sure he had a home just in case he ever needed somewhere safe.
Getting the Bluebird open would be hard work, but running a fish camp like he had in mind or even a country inn seemed like a vacation after dodging bullets and crooked foreign politicians for years.
That career, the one he’d loved for so long, wasn’t a smart way to spend the rest of what would be too short a life. If he could learn to slow down, settle in, everything would be perfect. If he couldn’t do that in Tall Pines, he had no idea where to go next.
Maybe it was time to have the conversation he’d been putting off since he arrived.
“Listen, Dad,” Dean said as he scrubbed his hands through his hair, “you probably have some doubts, but I have a good plan, one that will work. You’ll still be free to fish or hit the road or whatever. You can trust everything to me.”
His dad was silent, and Dean fought the urge to explain himself to this quiet man who’d always been content like this, sitting on the dock and watching the water. This plan to explore the country all alone was a new development, another one Dean was having a hard time adjusting to. He watched his dad stand easily and bend down to grasp the fishing pole.
“For how long?” His father spoke softly, but it was a loud thought in the silence of Spring Lake on a summer day.
That was the only question he didn’t have an answer for, and it was the most important one.
“Maybe you could explain what’s going on, son.” His father reached up to squeeze his shoulder, the same way he’d done when Dean was a teenager and needed encouragement. It wasn’t one of his mother’s perfumed hugs, but the way he wanted to fling his arms around his father�
��s neck was just... He was a grown man. Crazy enough to travel the world with a camera and a backpack. He could handle his own problems.
“I think...” How could he say it without alarming his father? The last thing he wanted, now that his dad was considering moving forward, was to hold him back. “You know how, when you’re busy, you keep adding things on, piling on one more job and hurrying through this thing to get to the next until finally something happens and you can’t catch up anymore?”
His father frowned and considered the weathered boards under his feet. “Been a long time, but maybe. That what happened to you? Need a vacation? You could always hit the road with me. Sure would be exciting.”
Dean gave a hard laugh. Yeah, that was what happened. Except it was so much worse than missing deadlines or being late with bills. Watching men fight for their lives took a toll. Sitting on a beach and soaking up the sun was only the first step in his recovery, but it was one he could take immediately.
“I need a new life. I need to sleep without the threat of death or the memory of my last assignment waking me up. I need...” Dean hated even saying the words out loud, admitting his weakness, especially to his father. “If I don’t do something new, I’m afraid I’m not going to make it, Dad.”
His father didn’t look away until Dean awkwardly cleared his throat. These attacks of emotion that came out of nowhere rattled Dean, but the truth was he had no control over them. He hated that.
They might shock his father, but he’d never let Dean down, either.
“And you think this place can give you what you need?” The doubt in his voice was clear. Dean tried not to take it personally, because he wasn’t fully convinced himself.
They both heard the crunch of gravel down the washed-out road.
“Guess she’s here.” His father squeezed his shoulder again. “We’ll figure it out, son.” Dean hoped to convince them both that letting him have the Bluebird was the best decision, but the right words wouldn’t come.
“Just meet her. I’ll show her how run-down the inn is. Might be enough to convince her she’d like to build her own house somewhere nearby. We could be neighbors, and everyone’s happy.” His father didn’t look like he believed that, though.
The Bluebird Bet Page 2
