The Prodigal M.D. Returns

by Marie Ferrarella

  Besides, she was no good at lying. Omitting certain truths, yes, but not lying about them. So she gave Ursula the confirmation she was looking for.

  "Yes, that was Ben. He came in for coffee, like you. And to drop off my mother's medication." She allowed a sigh to escape her. She should have known better than to raise Ursula's interest. "I forgot it this morning."

  "Seeing him this morning threw you for a loop, did it?" Ursula asked in a knowing voice. Smiling, the older woman patted her hand. "Don't worry, honey, your secret's safe with me."

  Panic flooded Heather.

  "Secret?" she heard herself repeating with a tongue that felt all but numb. "What secret?"

  "Why, the crush you had on him, dear. I saw it in your eyes every time you looked his way. Addresses written in illegible handwriting aren't the only thing I can read, child."

  There was a long, pregnant pause during which Heather wondered if Ursula suspected something. The woman had always been slightly mysterious, especially in the way she almost always knew when another mine disaster was about to strike—just before it did. It was as if she possessed a sixth sense about some things.

  Did the woman know about Hannah?

  "Well, I'd better be getting back," Ursula told her, glancing at her watch. "After I pay for my coffee."

  It was a subtle hint to get her moving, Heather realized. As of yet, she hadn't even poured the requested cup of coffee. She hurried into the kitchen to get the pot. After filling the foam container to the top, she carefully sealed the lid.

  Handing her a dollar bill, Ursula nodded at the paper bag that Ben had just brought over. "Why don't I just drop that off for you?" The suggestion was tendered innocently. "Your mother might need it."

  Her mother disliked visitors. Martha Ryan had vetoed every attempt Heather had made in the last few years to get her together with people, even women her own age.

  Heather shook her head. "There's no need for you to trouble yourself, Ursula. Her old medication still hasn't run out."

  "No point in waiting to the last minute," Ursula replied cheerfully. "Besides, maybe Martha could use a bit of company." Ursula continued, undaunted.

  She appreciated what the woman thought she was doing, but in her mother's case, it was a matter of casting pearls before swine. "I think you're being exceptionally kind, Ursula, but—"

  "No 'buts' accepted. Unless, of course, they belong to some young, handsome buck," she added with a mischievous wink. And then she leaned forward so that her voice wouldn't carry beyond a few inches as she whispered, "But don't tell Yuri I said so. He's afraid I might see something I like better and leave him. That's why he insisted we get married. Me, I was enjoying my reputation as a scarlet woman." Her laugh was full-bodied and lusty. "Made for a spicy life." She picked up the container and reached for the bag with Martha's medication. "I'll just take that over to your mother before I head back to the post office."

  Reluctantly Heather let her take the bag. "I thought you said you had to be getting back."

  "I do." Ursula looked almost as young as her granddaughters when she smiled. "Eventually. April dropped by this morning for a visit. If there's anything that needs my attention immediately, she'll call me." Ursula patted her pocket, then fished out a small silver object for Heather's perusal. "I have a cell phone now. They can find me anywhere, even if I don't want to be found."

  At times, Ursula talked so quickly, it was hard to piece everything together. Heather backtracked mentally. "Who is April visiting with?"

  Ursula grinned, her eyes sparkling as she replied, "Me."

  Heather was tempted to shake her head, if only to clear away the cobwebs. "If she's visiting with you, shouldn't you be there?"

  Ursula gave her a very patient look, the kind given to children who proved to be slow. "I will be, dear. Eventually." Crossing to the front door, Ursula paused to look at Heather over her shoulder. "Nice to see Ben back."

  She didn't wait for a response.

  The restaurant's foot traffic picked up considerably within minutes of Ursula's departure and, much to Heather's relief, remained that way for the rest of the day. Being busy left her no time to think, no time to examine whether or not she was doing the right thing by seeing Ben socially. No time to be nervous about the evening ahead.

  When quitting time arrived. Heather was exhausted, and nervousness had set in. She realized her hands were damp and cold. They hadn't felt that way since the day she'd marched down the aisle, about to say "I do" to a lie.

  After leaving Lily's, she stopped to take a deep breath. She then slipped behind the steering wheel of her less-than-perfect ten-year-old vehicle. She'd had to give up her Jeep when her mother came to live on the property. The Jeep could not accommodate her mother's wheelchair.

  Maybe she should beg off, she thought as she started the car. She could tell Ben that she was too tired to go out tonight.

  The next moment she changed her mind. Not because she wasn't tired, but because the effort was doomed to failure. Knowing Ben, he would suggest coming over again, perhaps even with some take-out from the Salty Dog. And that was definitely not acceptable, not with her mother lurking around every corner.

  She wished she'd had more time to prepare. More time to come up with some kind of viable plan that could get her and the girls out of the house without having to endure an endless game of twenty questions.

  Her mouth curved. D-Day would have required less planning and maneuvering.

  * * *

  The attack began the moment she opened the front door and entered.

  "Why did that old busybody stop by with my medication?"

  It was as if her mother had been lying in wait for her. Putting on her best, unfazed smile, Heather went straight to her bedroom to change. Her mother didn't take the hint, maneuvering her wheelchair into the room directly behind her.

  "She volunteered," Heather answered, deliberately not looking at her mother as she pulled one of her better, less-used dresses out of the closet. "Thought you might need it." Moving swiftly, something that having two children close together had taught her how to do, she took off her skirt and blouse and slipped on the navy-blue dress. "I thought it was nice of her."

  "Nice," Martha snorted. "All the woman wanted to do was pump me for information."

  Angling the zipper up, Heather paused only for a second to look at her mother. Had coming over here with the medication been a ruse to get answers to some questions Ursula had about her and Ben?

  "What kind of information?" Heather asked, trying to sound nonchalant.

  Martha frowned, once more following her, this time out of the room. "She asked how I was."

  Heather silently released the breath she'd been holding. Everything was still all right. "That's not a crime, mother. That's being polite."

  The look on Martha's face darkened. "That's being nosy."

  Heather knew this line of conversation could drag on indefinitely. She didn't have the time to indulge her mother.

  "Girls!" she called. "Come out here. I need to see you." She looked at her mother. "Then you didn't tell her how you were?"

  Hannah and Hayley came running in from the backyard. Both looked reasonably clean. Nothing a little water and a hairbrush couldn't fix. She could feel her nerves channeling themselves into excitement.

  "I told her that my daughter forgot to pick up my medication, but that didn't seem to faze that dreadful woman, seeing as how she brought it."

  Her mother could take silk purses and turn them into sow's ears. Taking a paper towel, Heather wet it and then swiftly applied the dampened area to Hayley's slightly dirty cheeks. "Like I said, Ursula was being nice."

  Unable to contain her curiosity any longer, Martha demanded, "What are you doing?"

  "Getting ready," Heather replied cheerfully. "The girls and I are going out." The moment her words were out, the two girls began to shift excitedly.

  "Out? Out where?" Martha asked. Heather spent her evenings at home every night. A change in p
attern tended to make her uneasy.

  "To eat dinner at Lily's." She looked at her daughters, two bolts of lightning just dying to be released. "Would you like that, girls?"

  In response, both girls clapped their hands together joyfully.

  Martha's frown only deepened. "Lily's? You just came from there. You just spent all day working there," she reminded her.

  Heather finished brushing Hayley's hair and turned her attention to Hannah. "I know."

  Martha sighed dramatically. "Besides, I don't feel like going out."

  Heather turned to look at her mother. "Then you're in luck, Mother," she replied sweetly. "Because you're not coming."

  "You're not inviting me?"

  "Sorry, I'm not the one doing the inviting." She set the brush down again. "And the one doing it invited just the girls and me."

  "Who?" Martha asked as the girls cheered. "Who invited you out?"

  Heather braced herself for the storm she knew was coming. "Ben Kerrigan."

  Martha's mouth dropped. "That juvenile delinquent who answered the phone?"

  "He's over thirty, Mother," Heather patiently pointed out.

  Martha raised her chin haughtily. "Doesn't change what he was and probably still is."

  Ordinarily, Heather would have kept her mouth shut. There was no winning an argument with her mother. But tonight was different. She'd had enough of the woman's high-handed ways. "Ben Kerrigan was never a juvenile delinquent. He was and is someone with a zest for life."

  A snort met her words. "Is that what they're calling it these days?" Hands on her wheels, Martha was about to propel herself into the kitchen. It was time for her dinner. "Well, doesn't matter. You can't go."

  Heather's reply stopped her in midroll. "Mother, in case you haven't noticed, I'm over eighteen. I really don't need your permission to do anything."

  Turning the wheelchair around, Martha dramatically clutched at her heart. "I'm not feeling well."

  She'd been through this routine far too often. Heather began to herd her daughters toward the door. "I'll be at Lily's. If there's a real emergency, you can reach me there. Or, better yet, why don't you call—"

  Heather never finished her statement. There was a knock on the door. Flustered, she prayed it wasn't Ben. She wanted a few minutes away from her mother to center herself. To look like something a little better than a harried mother of two and a put-upon daughter.

  Why the effort? It's not like this is going to go anywhere.

  Thinking that it was Ben, as well, her mother ordered, "Tell him to go away."

  "Mama?" Hannah said in an uncertain voice.

  "We're going, girls," Heather responded, quieting their fears.

  But when she opened the door, it wasn't Ben on the other side but Ursula. The moment the door opened, the woman breezed in.

  "Hi, this is short notice, I know," she said quickly, nodding at the little girls and addressing her words to Heather, "but I was wondering if your mother was free this evening."

  Mother is always free, especially with her criticism, Heather thought. She stepped back, allowing Ursula to see her mother.

  "Oh, there you are, Martha," Ursula said, crossing over to her. "Yuri's cousin Jan is visiting from one of those provinces in Canada, I forget which one," she confided. "But we need a fourth."

  "A fourth what?" Martha snapped.

  "I'll explain everything as soon as they get here," Ursula promised. She looked at Heather. "Shouldn't you and the girls be going right about now?"

  Stunned, Heather could only look at the postmistress. "How did you—"

  Ursula's smile was nothing short of serene. "I'm the postmistress, dear. By now you should know that nothing happens in this town without my knowing it."

  "You're a busybody, that's what you are," Martha informed her haughtily.

  "Mother!" Heather cried, embarrassed.

  But Ursula seemed completely undaunted by the blunt accusation. "I prefer 'student of human nature' myself. Now, let's get you into something a little more stylish than that robe you're wearing," Ursula suggested. Not waiting for a comment and certainly not for any sign of agreement, she took hold of the back of Martha's wheelchair and began to push her out of the room. Ignoring the sputtered protests, she made her way toward the guest room and said to Heather. "Keep him waiting a little while, but not too long, dear," she advised. "Men like to anticipate but not stew."

  Feeling a little like Cinderella being liberated by her fairy godmother, Heather took each daughter by the hand and made her getaway.

  Chapter Seven

  Hayley talked almost nonstop all the way to the restaurant. Occasionally, Hannah chimed in, as well. Going out was a big deal for her children, and Heather had a feeling that getting them to bed tonight was going to be a huge challenge. But it did her heart good to see them this excited.

  It also helped her forget that she was nervous.

  As they walked into Lily's, Hayley's steady stream of chatter abruptly halted.

  "Are we getting a shot?" Hayley asked, suspicion coloring her small features the moment Ben joined them.

  He laughed as he ruffled Hayley's hair. "Not unless you want one."

  Hayley shook her head so hard, her silky, strawberry-blond hair fairly flew back and forth about her small face. "No!"

  "How about you, Hannah?" Ben asked, looking at her sister. "Would you like one?"

  Hannah's deep-green eyes widened to the size of the proverbial saucers. She took a step closer to her mother, but this time, didn't hide behind her. "No, thank you."

  Ben didn't know which little girl amused him more. He looked at Heather. "Polite, even in her uncertainty. Reminds me of you."

  Heather wished she could believe she had left an impression on him, but he was just being charming, nothing more. She summoned a glib smile, the same one she used when the miners would flirt with her when she waited on them.

  "You never knew me well enough to have anything remind you of me," Heather pointed out.

  Ben opened the door for her and her daughters, standing back until they had all filed by. His eyes washed over her as she passed. "You'd be surprised."

  The moment they entered, the din surrounded them, but she still heard him. Still picked out the sound of his voice. His answer seemed to ripple along her skin, causing the tiny hairs on her arms and the back of her neck to stand up at attention. As if in anticipation.

  Down girl, she ordered herself. He didn't mean anything by that. He was just being Ben, nothing more. Charming and seductive as ever. She sincerely doubted that he even remembered they had made love that one night. But her reason refused to prevail. Her nerves continued to jump around.

  A fine way for the mother of two to react, she upbraided herself.

  "There, that table," Hayley declared, her daughter's enthusiasm slicing through the serious mood building within her.

  The little girl pointed her finger at a table where they usually sat whenever they came to the restaurant. Ordinarily, Lily's was not filled to capacity. This time a couple sat at "their" table.

  Heather vaguely recognized the young couple as people who had been several grades ahead of her in high school. Hades was a very small town where almost every face was familiar if not well-known. She glanced around. There were no other available tables. Lily was probably being run ragged. She should be here, pitching in, not acting like a customer, Heather thought.

  Very gently she pushed Hayley's hand down. She'd told the girl countless times not to point. "Honey, there's someone sitting at the table. We'll get the next one that's free."

  "But I want that one," Hayley said, pouting. "It's our special table," she insisted. Hayley cocked her head as she looked up at her mother. "You said so."

  "We can't always have what we want," Heather told her younger daughter patiently.

  She silently prayed that Hayley wasn't going to start carrying on and causing a scene. Under normal circumstances, it wouldn't embarrass her. There wasn't a parent alive who hadn't endu
red at least one tantrum at the hands of their child. But she hated the thought of it happening in front of Ben. She wanted him to like her children, to see them as little people, not nuisances.

  Why? What difference can it possibly make? Having no answer that was acceptable, Heather locked away the taunting voice.

  "Amen to that," Ben said.

  Heather looked at him sharply, wondering if she'd just imagined him saying that. The next moment he was kneeling down to Hayley's level.

  "Do you really want that table, Hayley?"

  The little girl bobbed her head up and down. With the sixth sense of a child who knew she was going to get her way, her eyes never left the face of her new knight in shining armor.

  Ben rose to his feet again. Heather looked at him uneasily. "Ben, what are you going to do? She has to learn to be patient. We can't just—"

  The rest of her protest dried up as Ben flashed her that grin that went straight to the center of her stomach.

  "Maybe we can," he told her. "Just this once. Stay here."

  Stunned and speechless, she watched Ben walk over to the table that Hayley considered her personal property. Everything about his body language was engaging as he spoke with Bill and Susan Jessop, the people who were seated at Hayley's table. Before she could wonder if Ben remembered them, she saw the hearty exchange of greetings, followed by a very short, friendly conversation. And then the couple rose, vacating the table.

  Hayley was jumping up and down beside her, clapping her hands together. "He did it! He did it!"

  The next moment Ben beckoned her and the girls to join him. Hayley flew over on feet that barely seemed to touch the floor.

  "Ben, what did you say to them?" Heather asked as she and Hannah caught up.

  The adulation that shone in Hayley's eyes warmed his heart in a way that caught him by surprise. "That this was my first night back and that I was celebrating with an old friend and her daughters, one of whom had her heart set on sitting at her 'special' table. I told them I'd pick up the tab for their meal if I could have this table. They were finished anyway and thought it was a good deal."