by Beth K. Vogt
“Is everyone at the MAs’ station?” She followed the receptionist out into the hallway.
“Yes. Paul is half full, but I’m sure he’ll be booked solid before the day’s over.” Evie joined the trio of waiting MAs and the lone male, Paul, the practical joker but oh-so-proficient nurse practitioner.
“Good morning, everyone.” Kendall took a moment to make eye contact with each of her staff. “Ready for another day taking care of the most important people in the world?”
As everyone nodded and murmured agreement, Kendall held out her hands. “Let’s pray, then.”
She bowed her head, not bothering to watch and see what anyone else did. She knew everyone in her practice was at a different place in his or her faith walk. Some were believers like she was; some were questioning. And then there was Evie. The best receptionist she could ever hope for. Kind. Considerate. One step ahead of Kendall most of the time. But when it came to God—nothing.
Still, anyone she hired knew her practice was faith-based—and one of the things she always did was start the day with prayer. Her practice, her privilege.
And today, after her early-morning standoff with Bekah, she needed a few minutes to refocus on God before turning her attention to her patients.
“God, we ask you to bless our interaction with each patient today. Give us wisdom and discernment to meet their needs—physical, emotional, and spiritual. May what we do and say bring people one step closer to Jesus. Amen.”
Kendall stepped back, watching her team move toward their stations.
“All right then. Let’s get this day started.”
If only there was a way to package these moments of peace and quiet and parcel them out during the weeks she missed church.
Kendall sat in the back of the auditorium, savoring the echo of praise and worship music lingering in the room following the morning service. She counted the cost of being a physician before entering medical school—and all along the way. But there were times when she resented how it shoved so many other things out of her life. Relationships. Hobbies. Involvement in her church.
People stood in scattered small groups—couples, families. Making plans for later in the day, later in the week. Truth was, being thirty-six and single—Yes, Bekah, I heard you—made her a misfit in her church in a way that her job didn’t. Most people her age were married. Were moms. And in the medium-sized church she attended, the so-called college and career group catered to young twenty-somethings.
Still, she loved the worship. The teaching. And today she’d been surprised to see another physician, Heath Parker, walk on stage to share his vision for a ministry to support the health needs of families in Africa. She’d met Heath several times when they’d attended the same medical conferences throughout the years. Not that he’d remember her. Usually he was one of the speakers at a regional or national medical conference, thanks to his work overseas in infectious diseases.
Kendall gathered her brown leather satchel that worked as both a purse and a briefcase and her wool car-length coat. She’d stop by the hospital and check on the toddler who was admitted last night after a bad asthma attack. Then she’d take Sully for a walk so they could both enjoy the warm weather before the snow predicted for midweek rolled in over Pikes Peak.
As she exited the double doors of the high school where her “out of the box” church met each week, Kendall heard the sound of fast-paced footsteps. She muffled the sigh building in her chest. Most likely someone with an If-you-have-a-minute-I-have-this-funny-rash question. Such requests came with the medical degree.
“Dr. Haynes. Kendall!”
Now, that sounded like . . .
The next moment, Heath Parker jogged past her, turned around, and slowed to a walk, staying a few paces in front of her. The wind riffled through his receding hairline, tossing the dark brown curls into an appealing tangle. Brilliant blue eyes locked with hers.
“Kendall. Hey. I was afraid I wouldn’t catch you.”
Kendall stopped walking. He’d noticed her, sitting all the way in the last row? She held out her hand. “Dr. Parker. Good to see you again. I enjoyed your talk—”
“Heath. Call me Heath, please.” He wrapped her in an exuberant hug. “And can the I-enjoyed-your-talk spiel. Old friends like us don’t need to do stuff like that.”
Old friends . . . like them? Well, maybe in a very general manner of speaking. Kendall did a mental headshake even as she enjoyed a tantalizing whiff of Heath Parker’s musky cologne. Made her want to duck in for another hug.
Heath stepped back, tucking his hands into the pockets of his khaki slacks. “I talked with your pastor before church. He mentioned you attended. I looked for you, but didn’t see you until just now.”
Ah. That explained it. The pastor had given him a heads-up. But still, Heath looked for her. Nice thought.
“So, do you have time for lunch? I’m told Thai Basil is good. I’m still learning my way around the restaurants in town.”
The unexpected invitation stalled Kendall’s response. She’d planned on heating a sweet potato in the microwave before walking Sully. “Lunch? Sure. Sounds great.”
“Terrific! Let me walk you to your car and then we’ll caravan there.” Heath fell into step beside her.
Despite the fact that she was all of five feet tall—five three, if you counted her leather boots—she found it easy to keep up with Heath. Average height, he ambled alongside her, asking general what-have-you-been-up-to questions about the church and where she lived. At her Jeep, he opened the door, waiting while she buckled herself in, and then leaned on the door frame.
“A Jeep, huh? Somehow I imagined you’d drive something fancier.”
“I rebuilt this car with my dad. Nothing fancy for me. I’m a Jeep girl.”
Heath patted her hand where it rested on the steering wheel. “Okay, Jeep girl. I’ll see you at Thai Basil. Looking forward to learning more about you.”
Kendall watched him walk across the parking lot to a black Hummer H3. To each his own off-road assault vehicle. But from the shine on his custom wheel rims, Kendall doubted Heath Parker went into anything more remote than a gravel parking lot. Oh, well. She wouldn’t judge the man by his car.
As Heath followed her out of the parking lot, she made a mental note to stop by the hospital later that evening and check on her patient. Today was not going the way she planned. Not at all.
“This is one well-thought-out setup, Kendall.” Heath turned a circle in her apartment, stopping to face the bank of windows revealing a view of the mountains. Sunshine streamed through the clouds, casting them into varying aspects of shadow and light. “And all you have to do is walk downstairs to go to work each day.”
The satisfaction that lit inside Kendall like a slow-burning Fourth of July sparkler whenever she contemplated her combo work/home environment glowed brighter. “I’d say I’m happy here, but I’m not.”
Heath shot her a startled glance, the afternoon sunlight glinting off his Colorado-sky-blue eyes.
A little-girl giggle escaped. “I’m over-the-moon happy here.”
Heath nudged her shoulder, his chuckle joining hers. “So, when do I get to meet Sully?”
“Ah, Sully. I’m warning you, Heath, the dog has no social graces whatsoever. This, despite repeated attempts at training him.”
“Some dogs aren’t meant to be tamed. Like some men.” He waggled his eyebrows at her. “I’m not afraid of your dog.”
Kendall let Sully out from the bedroom, where he sat whining as if she’d ignored him for hours. Which she basically had, thanks to lunch with Heath. The dog bounded out in a flurry of paws and legs and “woofs,” skidding to a stop in front of Heath, who knelt to meet him.
Please don’t let the dog-who-never-met-a-person-he-didn’t-love scare him off.
Not like she expected Heath Parker to be around much. Or again, for that matter. No sense getting her hopes up.
She watched Heath bury his hands deep in Sully’s brown, curly fur,
turning his head away from Sully’s kisses. Going to the kitchen, she gathered the dog’s leash and other walking supplies.
“You sure you want to come along for this?”
Heath gestured to the outdoors. “It’s a beautiful day in Colorado. I’ve been invited to go on a walk with a lovely woman and her very friendly dog. Why would I say no to that offer?”
Right, then.
“It’s just that you’re a little overdressed for the occasion . . .” Kendall motioned to his navy blue blazer, white dress shirt, and yellow tie.
“Next time I’ll make sure I’m appropriately attired.” He shucked off his tie, tucking it in his pocket. “And this is easily dealt with.”
Next time.
“If you want to hook this on his collar, I’ll just grab my flats and my windbreaker and we’ll go.”
“Perfect.” Heath took the brown leather strap from her.
If this had been a romance novel, this was where the author would insert the line: His hand seemed to linger on hers.
All right, girl. This is not a romance novel. Real life. Your life, remember? Romance for you never leads to happily ever after.
A few minutes later, she and Heath walked behind Sully, who acted as if he’d never heard the command “heel!” She would enjoy the sunshine, the just-right warmth of the April afternoon as they walked to a nearby park—except Sully yanked her arm first to the right and then to the left as he investigated unseen scents along the sidewalk.
“Let me try.” Heath slipped the leash from her hand, then positioned her hand in the crook of his arm.
Very smooth, Dr. Parker.
“So why a goldendoodle?”
“Well, I had asthma as a child.” Oh, good grief, am I really starting with my childhood? “Some people believe goldendoodles are hypoallergenic. My goal was to let Sully come into the office sometimes, cheer up the patients, that kind of thing. I liked the idea that he wouldn’t aggravate patients’ allergies or asthma.”
“But?”
“You’re walking him. Sully’s a big galoot. Friendly as all get-out—but uncontrollable. Until he behaves, there’s no way I’d let him in my office.”
“And you named him Sully because . . . ?”
Of course he’d ask that. Her innate honesty compelled a truthful answer. “Um, Dr. Quinn, Medicine Woman.”
“Clarification, if you please, Dr. Haynes.”
“In the TV show Dr. Quinn, Medicine Woman, Jane Seymour plays Dr. Mike, a female frontier doctor. Sully is the love interest.” She kept her eyes trained on her dog. “I decided every female doctor needed a Sully.”
Heath’s deep chuckle teased a responding laugh from Kendall. “Only your Sully has four feet.”
“Exactly.”
“Kendall, you are delightful.” He threw an arm around her shoulders, pulling her to his side in a brief half-hug. “I didn’t think one of the advantages of moving to Colorado was seeing you again.”
“R-really?”
“I knew it was time to leave the mission field, to come back to the States. I knew God was leading me back here. I’m not sure what’s next—”
“But what about your medical goodwill organization?”
“There is that. I’m still in the early brainstorming stages. Colorado Springs has so many faith-based organizations—and I see this as something a little different.” Heath turned onto the path leading into the park.
“How so?”
“Well, broader-based.”
“Nondenominational?”
“More than that. I don’t even want to label it as a faith-based organization. If I do that, I lose out the opportunity for federal funding.”
Kendall sidestepped a couple of toddlers chasing after a stream of iridescent bubbles blown by their mother. “Is that so bad?”
“No, not necessarily. But I feel like it’s an option I’m supposed to pursue—at least initially. My goal is to get as many people as possible excited about improving the health of people in third-world countries. And I believe I know just how to do that.”
“How?”
Heath shook his head. “Ah, today is not a day to talk medicine. Although I can’t think of anyone else I’d rather have listen to my ideas and give me feedback. According to your pastor, you’re quite well respected in town.”
“You mean, I work long hours.”
“No. He told me about your practice. A solo practitioner in this day and age? Almost unheard of.” Heath tightened his grip on the leather leash when Sully tried to run after a boy who biked past. “And your monthly asthma clinic at Front Range Mission Outreach? Methinks you have a generous, caring heart, Kendall.”
“The same could be said of you.”
“But we weren’t talking about me, were we?” He walked in silence for a few minutes, eyes trained on several children swinging, legs pumping hard and fast, propelling them high into the air. “Let’s talk about something more important.”
“Such as?”
“Such as when we’re going to go out again. Dinner later this week?”
CHAPTER FOUR
“I’m glad you were free this afternoon, Kendall.” Rachel unbuckled her seat belt, tugging her straw cowboy hat off her head and releasing her long hair. “This way we have some one-on-one time before we meet up with everyone else tonight and go looking for my wedding dress.”
“Me, too. This was a great idea.”
“Thanks for leaving the top off the Jeep today.”
“No problem. This is crazy-warm weather for April.” Kendall tucked her keys in her hip pouch and climbed out of the CJ5. “I’m starving. You?”
“That’s why we’re here.” Rachel led the way into the rustic restaurant tucked into the mountainside along Highway 24. The vivid mural painted on the outside was a colorful hint that one side of the building was dedicated to Colorado wines. But today they were focused on the restaurant. “Is a table outside good for you?”
“Absolutely.” Kendall already knew what she was ordering—the Buffalo Wine Burger. Her mouth watered at the thought of char-grilled meat flavored with just a dash of red wine topped with grilled onions, roasted green chilies, and sautéed mushrooms. She always topped it off with a slice of Swiss cheese.
Rachel placed her order for a portobello mushroom sandwich and the waitress brought their drinks, leaving the two women to relax at their creekside table. The faint sound of water tripping over rocks gentled Kendall’s spirit, wiping away the last remnants of work stress. Sunlight through bare tree limbs and evergreen branches and a whisper of a breeze tickled the back of her neck.
“This is a great way to spend my afternoon off.” Kendall closed her eyes, inhaling the hint of springtime in the Rockies.
“And this is the perfect place to eat.” Rachel leaned back in her wrought-iron chair, legs stretched out in front of her. “Sometimes I forget it’s up here.”
“I know. And then I eat here again and I think, Why don’t I come here more often?”
“Exactly. I’ll have to mention this place to Tony. We should bring his family here when they come out for the wedding.”
Kendall scrunched her nose, tempted to peek at her phone. But even without checking, she would bet it had been less than ten minutes since Rachel last mentioned Tony. Or the wedding. It was all right. Rachel was in love. Engaged. Tony and the wedding were top priority.
“Speaking of the wedding—” Rachel turned her head so she could look at Kendall. “—I wanted to check something with you.”
“Sure. Is there something I can do?”
Even as she asked the question, Kendall doubted Rachel needed anyone besides Melissa-the-über-organized to keep track of all the wedding to-dos.
“I wanted to make sure I didn’t hurt your feelings.”
“Hurt my feelings? How?”
“When I asked Melissa to be my matron of honor, instead of asking you—did I hurt your feelings?”
Kendall made certain she didn’t look away from Rachel when she ans
wered. “I’m fine, Rachel. Really.”
“You didn’t answer the question.” Rachel sat up, twisting around to face her. “I did, didn’t I?”
Now would be a good time for the waitress to come back with their food, but of course Kendall ordered her burger medium well, not rare. “Rachel, the four of us are all friends. You’re free to arrange the wedding party however you want. The important thing is that we all are going to be a part of your wedding.”
“Still evading the question, Dr. Haynes.” Rachel reached over and clasped her hand, her diamond glinting in the sunlight. “And I have my answer. I’m sorry I hurt your feelings.”
“It’s fine. Really. I’m happy for you.” Kendall squeezed her friend’s fingers. Once. Twice. Let go. “It’s your day. You plan it the way you want it to go.”
“I wasn’t not picking you, Kendall. It’s just that I thought it would be easier for you if you weren’t the maid of honor, you know?”
“No . . . I don’t know.”
“We’ve been friends how many years now? Five? How many weddings have we attended together?”
“Probably an even dozen.”
“And we both dreaded them.” Rachel shook her head as if replaying scenes from weddings past, her long, dark hair swishing around her shoulders. “Watching another single gal walk down the aisle while we either wore a dress she picked out for us or sat in the pew and wished it was us.”
Kendall sat with her chin resting in the palm of her hand. “Wow, you make us sound like two sorry single women.”
“Well, I know there were days we felt sorry for ourselves.” Rachel stopped talking as the waitress delivered their food.
For a few moments, Kendall focused on her late lunch. The ciabatta bun was as fresh as always, the lettuce crisp when she bit into her burger. She’d swim an extra ten minutes tomorrow to pay for this indulgence.
Rachel swallowed a bite of her sandwich, wiping the corner of her mouth with a napkin. “I remember watching another thirty-something woman like me get married about a year ago. Deanna Jensen—I met her through work. As she walked down the aisle, this thought skipped across my mind: Now her life begins.”
