Saving Dr. Ryan

by Karen Templeton

  “What do you hear from J.T. lately?”

  Thinking she hadn’t heard right, Maddie looked over at Ryan, who was calmly munching another cookie.

  Mildred had sat down beside him some time ago; now she laid a hand on his arm, her expression serious and just this side of worried. “Funny you should ask me that, since I was just thinking, right before you got here, that he hasn’t come to me since the last time you were out here. I’m a little concerned, to tell you the truth. In more’n twenty-five years, he’s never stayed away this long.” Eyes the color of wilted celery lifted to Maddie. “What do you think it means, honey?”

  “I—I’m afraid I don’t know,” she said, glancing over at the doctor, who wasn’t giving her a clue. “You…talk to your husband a lot?”

  The slightest glimmer of amusement appeared in Mildred’s eyes. “Well, I don’t know as ‘talk’ is quite the right word, since he’s dead and all. But, well, just because I can’t see him anymore, or touch him, doesn’t mean I can’t feel him.” She pressed a hand to the center of her chest. “In here. It’s why I never left this place, even though I know most folks think I’m just tetched in the head. This is where J.T. is. So this is where I belong.”

  Maddie could feel Dr. Ryan watching her, waiting for her reaction.

  “I don’t think you’re touched in the head at all, Miz Rafferty,” she said softly, reaching over to grasp the old lady’s frail hand. “You and your husband must have loved each other very much.”

  Moisture sheened Mildred’s eyes, even though she was smiling. “Yes, honey, we sure did.” Then her smile broadened. “But enough of that. Dr. Ryan told me, last time he was out, that you have three beautiful children, including a brand new baby girl.”

  Maddie sat back in her chair. Just the mention of Amy Rose had signaled her letdown reflex. As with the other two children, her puny little breasts produced more milk than they could hold. “Yes, ma’am, I sure do.”

  “Oh, I just love children. Don’t get much of a chance to see any these days, but I remember taking care of my daughter when she was little as one of the happiest times of my life. Oh! Are you okay, honey?”

  Maddie nodded, waiting for the stinging sensation to pass. “It’s just…getting close to time to feed my daughter.”

  “Oh, for heaven’s sake! Then you need to get going!” The old woman practically bounded off the sofa, as if there was something she could personally do to relieve Maddie’s discomfort. “I remember only too well how uncomfortable I got, when I couldn’t get to Justy fast enough.”

  Cats weaving around their feet, they all headed toward the door. But just as Maddie set foot outside, she turned to Mildred and asked, “Would you…would it be okay if I brought the kids out sometime for a short visit?”

  The look on the old woman’s face nearly brought tears to Maddie’s eyes. “Oh…” she breathed. “Could you?”

  “I’d love to. And I’m sure they’d love it out here, too. How about…next Tuesday, after lunch?”

  “Oh, yes, honey, that’d be fine!”

  It was some time after they were back in the truck before the doctor spoke, leading Maddie to worry that maybe she’d done something wrong. But then he finally said, his quiet, steady voice laced with something that sounded to Maddie almost like wonder, “What on earth made you decide to do that?”

  She looked at him, something inside her clutching at the expression in his clear blue eyes. “Probably much the same reason you stop in to see her. Because you can’t stand the thought of that sweet, lonely old woman out here all by herself with nobody to talk to. Well, except her husband,” she added with a smile, which the doctor returned. As he started up the truck, she said, “I can’t stand the thought of anybody being lonely. Never could. I know too much how it feels.” She glanced over at him, but he was too busy reversing the truck to notice. “Who brings her her groceries and things?”

  He reached up, adjusted his hat. “I do.”

  They jostled along the rutted dirt road for a minute or so before she said, “You like that will all your patients?”

  “If you mean do I bring them all their groceries, no.”

  She laughed. “I don’t mean that. I mean, the way you…I don’t know how to put it exactly. The way you make each one feel like nobody’s more important than they are, just at that moment.” She looked over at him. “You really, really love what you do, don’t you?”

  They’d reached the main road which would take them back to town. Dr. Ryan stopped the truck, hesitating for a bit before finally meeting her gaze. Maybe it was just the light, but Maddie could have sworn his cheeks were pinker than usual. “Yeah. I really do.” He flexed his hands on the wheel, like he was trying to make up his mind about something, then said, “Only one more stop. Think you can hold out?”

  “Thought you said Mildred’s was the last stop?”

  “This one just came to mind,” he said quietly, looking out the windshield. “Wouldn’t take but another half hour at the most.” Then he turned back to her. “There’s something I think you should see.”

  Chapter 6

  “Oh, dear,” was all she said when they pulled up in front of Ned’s shack.

  Ryan’s insides twisted at her obvious dismay. And no wonder. Besides the mangled, wheelless sedan listing south that as far as Ryan knew hadn’t run since the early eighties, the yard boasted half a chicken coop, piles of…junk from any number of unfinished projects the old man had abandoned over the years, and an outhouse at the back that looked as if it’d fall over if the occupant sneezed too hard. Not that you could see any of it too well through the waist-high weeds.

  “I figured you weren’t going to let this go until you saw for yourself,” he said, and Maddie hauled in a shuddering breath.

  “It looks like one of the little pig’s houses. After the wolf huffed and puffed. And I don’t suppose the inside’s any improvement?”

  “’Fraid not.”

  Then Maddie’s mouth screwed up to one side. “I really couldn’t’ve brought my babies here to live, could I?” she said, only to swat away whatever reply he might have made, her whole body going limp with defeat. “Take me back. I won’t bother you—or Uncle Ned—about this again.”

  “I’m sorry, Maddie—”

  “No, it’s okay.” She turned to him, her smile sad. “I’m glad you showed me. But honestly…” Frowning, she looked back. “How on earth a human being could want to live like this is beyond me.”

  Ryan swung the truck around and headed back toward Haven, his thoughts bumping around inside his head. Where the impulse had come from to take her to see Ned’s for herself, he had no idea. But after she’d so neatly…defined him, in a way that nobody—not his parents, not his brothers, not even Suzanne—had ever been able to do, he felt he owed her that much, at least.

  Nobody had ever seen clear to his soul the way this woman apparently did.

  And it scared the bejesus out of him.

  A good ten minutes later, Maddie was frowning at the passing scenery, wincing every time they hit a bump, wondering what on earth she was going to do now, since Plan A had fallen apart. Which meant she needed to come up with Plan B real fast. Preferably before they got back home.

  No, not home, she corrected herself. Back. Dr. Logan’s house wasn’t her home, and it scared her just how easily the word had come to roost in her thoughts.

  “You’re too quiet,” he said, scattering her thoughts to kingdom come.

  “Just thinking, is all. How’d you find out Ned had broken his hip, anyway?”

  “Luckily, he was in town when it happened. Fell off the curb, right in front of the café. If he’d been out at his place, no telling when somebody might have found him.”

  Maddie shuddered. “Doesn’t anybody go out and check on him?”

  “Folks used to, from time to time. Until Ned took to firing his shotgun to warn people off.”

  She shook her head. “I still don’t understand why anybody would want to be alone
like that. I mean, that alone.”

  After a moment, Dr. Logan said, “Some people just do, Maddie. It’s not worth worrying over.”

  Something in his voice made her glance over, but his attention was focused on the road, his thoughts all locked up inside him.

  With a sigh, Maddie returned to watching trees zipping past and trying not to think about how full her breasts were getting. Maybe because her mama had abandoned her, she didn’t know, but she’d always liked having people around her. Not that she didn’t like a little alone time, now and again, but to go for days or months, or even years, without company would drive her nuts.

  And by company, she thought, she didn’t mean people you had to be around because taking care of them was your job.

  But thinking about all of this wasn’t addressing the problem at hand, which was what was going to happen now. Since it had been more than a week since she had the baby and they were both fine, she didn’t need to be under the doctor’s care anymore. Only, once she got that far in her thinking, she ran into a dead end.

  And judging from the doctor’s pensive expression, so had he. Except then he looked right at her, like he could read her mind, and said, “You know you and the children can stay in my house as long as you need to.”

  “Thank you,” she said. “But I don’t want your charity.”

  His mouth went all tight, like he was holding back from saying what he was thinking, which was just fine with her. Then his cell phone rang.

  “Okay, Marybeth,” she heard him say as they pulled into his driveway. “I’m on my way, but I’m sending the ambulance, too. See if you can get an aspirin in him, it might help until we can get there.”

  “Is everything all right?”

  He was out of the truck and around to her side, opening her door for her before she had a chance to open it herself. “It’s Sherman Mosely,” he said distractedly as she got out, “the town’s lawyer. His secretary thinks he’s having a heart attack—”

  “Then why’re you still here?”

  Five seconds later, he wasn’t.

  An hour later, her breasts no longer felt like they were about to pop. Unfortunately she couldn’t say the same for her brain. Especially as now she was worrying about somebody she didn’t even know. Or maybe it was more that she was worrying about the man that everybody was looking to to make sure this Mr. Mosely would be okay.

  Sure seemed like a lot of people leaned on Dr. Ryan. Which would be okay if he had somebody to help bear the load from time to time. Far as she could tell, though, he didn’t, not really. Not even his brothers. What a shame, to have family right here in town and not be close to them.

  Not that this was any of her business.

  Now wearing a ratty old pair of leggings and a loose shirt that buttoned up the front, she wandered around the too-quiet house for a little bit, patting her daughter on her back as she walked. She had a good half hour to kill before she had to pick up the other two kids: it occurred to her she hadn’t seen the doctor’s office yet, and since she didn’t think it was any big deal if she peeked, she did.

  The waiting room, painted ivory with dark wood trim, smelled comfortably of steam heat and old wood. Assorted chairs and benches lined the walls, as well as a shelf full of toys and books, the usual assortment of old magazines. Off of that was an exam room with lots of glass-doored cabinets and counters and drawers and such, that looked pretty spiffy and up-to-date, and past that, what she took to be a records room with wall-to-wall filing cabinets, some of the drawers half open. Finally she reached the doctor’s office, a fair-size room all in browns and tans. In front of a bay window looking out over the backyard sat the biggest wooden desk she’d ever seen. An old-fashioned blotter, bare except for a prescription pad and a Bic pen, nestled in the middle of piles of charts, folders and assorted official-looking papers.

  Still rubbing the baby’s back, Maddie made her way over to the desk. She saw her own chart in the wreckage, saw dates written on others going back a good two months. There were what looked like insurance claim forms, too, a whole stack of them, sitting drunkenly in a bin on one corner.

  She blew out a stream of air that tickled her bangs: judging from the state of this office, everything she’d heard about Oklahoma tornadoes was true.

  Clearly Dr. Logan had fallen way behind in his paperwork. Frowning, Maddie shifted the baby to hold her in one arm, gently sifting through the nearest pile. Not that she meant to pry, but…

  Lord, this man needed a keeper.

  Not that this was any of her business.

  The grandfather clock out in the front hall chimed, alerting her that she needed to get a move-on if she was going to get the children on time. It was faster to take the car, but both the church and the school were within walking distance, which sounded like a good idea right now. She needed to do something to work off all these jittery feelings. Besides, she hadn’t really had a chance to explore the town. And maybe something would pop up in her face while she was out. A job. Someplace to stay. A million dollars.

  Well, she thought, bundling Amy Rose into the stroller Didi Meyerhauser’s daughter Faith had brought over, you never knew, did you?

  “Mama! Please?” Noah looked up at her, his eyes like a pair of chocolate drops. “Can’t we eat in there?”

  If Maddie had realized their walk through town would take them by way of the town’s only eating establishment (that she could tell, anyway), she would probably have chosen a different route.

  “I’m sorry, baby, but I didn’t bring my wallet with me.” Not that it would have made any difference, even if Hank Logan had refused payment for her motel room, or so Dr. Logan had said. Although she had to admit, the smells coming out of the Haven Café were real tempting. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d had a hamburger and french fries. Or a chocolate shake.

  Maddie looked down into her son’s eyes and just managed not to let out a weary sigh. She really shouldn’t’ve thought about that chocolate shake. “There’s tons of food at ho…at the house, sugar. We don’t need to be buyin’ anymore.”

  “Mama, I gots money.”

  Now Maddie turned her attention to Katie Grace, who was standing there holding a dollar bill in her hand. “Where on earth did you get that?”

  “Ivy gived it to me yesterday. She gived one to Noah, too.”

  Maddie looked at Noah. “She did?”

  Noah was busy searching the pockets of his coat, finally coming up with the dollar bill on the fifth or sixth try. He gave Maddie a big grin. “I forgot. So can we go eat lunch in there, Mama?”

  Well, she didn’t know whether to be ticked at Ivy or not, although she supposed the midwife was just acting like a granny, was all. But she did know that two dollars wasn’t going to get them very far, even though the prices listed on the menu posted in one corner of the window were pretty reasonable. And the chalkboard sign said they were serving homemade split pea soup today. Lord, Maddie hadn’t had split pea soup in a dog’s age…

  “Mama?”

  She sighed. “Two dollars, huh? Well, I suppose we could swing some french fries and one Coke, but you’ll have to share, okay? Then I’ll give you your real lunch after.”

  The kids let out whoops of glee, then practically killed themselves seeing which one could get inside first. Noah won, then remembered he needed to hold the door open so Maddie could manuever the stroller inside.

  Warmth and noise and delicious cooking smells swirled around her when she entered, the conversation level dipping slightly as many of the patrons—mostly male, she noticed—stopped chewing and talking long enough to give her and the kids a curious look. But that only lasted a second or two. Behind the counter, a round, brown-faced woman in a gussied-up black sweatshirt and dangly earrings, her short gray hair cut close to her head, was holding forth about something with a young man who was pretty much all legs and cowboy hat. Every once in a while, she’d let loose with a belly laugh that made Maddie smile in return. There were two other waitres
ses in pink uniforms and sneakers, one young and blond, one middle-aged and suspiciously brunette, zipping from table to table, yakking away as well.

  The woman behind the counter glanced over, caught Maddie’s eye, said something to the young man and made tracks in Maddie’s direction, wearing the brightest smile Maddie had ever seen.

  She grasped Maddie’s hand in both of hers, said her name was Ruby Kennedy, that she and her husband Jordy ran the diner, then added, “You must be the gal stayin’ up at Doc Ryan’s place.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Maddie said, but the woman had already turned that bright, loving smile on the children, asking them their names and cupping each of their heads in turn when they told her. “And who’s this little angel?” she asked Maddie, squatting even lower to softly touch the baby’s hand.

  “Amy Rose.”

  Ruby grinned up at Maddie. “You sure picked some pretty names for your babies, Mama,” she said, then turned back to the children. “Y’all hungry?”

  “Oh!” Maddie touched the woman’s arm, lowering her voice so nobody else would hear. “I’m sorry, but I’ve only got two dollars, uh, with me, I told them they could share some fries and a Coke—”

  “Never you mind about that,” the woman said, straightening up. “You just go on ahead and sit over there—” she nodded toward an empty booth by the window “—and we’ll get these babies fixed up. You, too, Mama,” she added, giving Maddie the once-over.

  “But I can’t—”

  “Got us a tradition here, honey—all newcomers to town get their first meal free. Now get on over there before these poor little things fall over from hunger. You all like hamburgers?” she asked the children.

  And that, apparently, was the end to the discussion.

  By the time they’d all finished, it was so late they pretty much had the place to themselves, since the waitresses were gone until five when the dinner rush would start up. Ruby’s husband Jordan, who did most of the cooking, came out to say “hey,” and the kids’ eyes just about bugged out of their skulls at the sight of the huge, bald-headed man with the single gold loop in his ear. But his smile was just as big and bright as his wife’s, and his low, rumbly voice soon put them both at ease. When he left, Ruby joined them in the booth, clearly settling in for a good old-fashioned gossip session.