Tate nodded, smiled at some other people and looked back at Faith.
“Keeps kids out of trouble, right?” she said.
“Some of them. Wait while I shower and I’ll drive you home.”
She shook her head. “Actually, it was pouring rain when I came, so I drove. Besides, it’s getting late. I’ll see you tomorrow at the singles group.”
“Hey, Tate, you’re feeling better, I see,” one of the men from the church said. “Great game. Next time put Harold in earlier. He’s a sleeper.”
“Will do. Thanks.” He looked at Faith. “I’ll swing by and pick you up tomorrow,” he said.
“If it’s nice, I want to walk.”
“Sounds like a plan. I’ll swing by and walk with you.”
Another couple came up to talk to him, and Faith smiled and left, already looking forward to Wednesday. She hoped the weather would clear. A stroll through town to and from the church in the evening would allow more time with Tate.
The next morning Faith was counting the hours until she saw Tate again when she knocked on the exam room door and opened it slightly to find an irate patient.
“I have been waiting more than forty minutes. This is outrageous, and I’m going to tell the doctor,” Muriel Foster said. “I have never had to wait this long. Was there an emergency? The least you could have done was told me. Then I could have decided whether or not to wait.”
Faith was taken aback. She double-checked the folder and saw the time noted when the woman had arrived, almost forty-five minutes ago. But the flag by the door had not been flipped, denoting a patient waiting, until a moment or two ago. She would have noticed.
“I’m so sorry. I didn’t know you were here,” Faith said. “I’ll let the doctor know you’re ready and have been kept waiting. He won’t be long.”
“Well, I never! I have better things to do than sit around here all morning. How can you say you didn’t know I was here?” she huffed. “Marjorie sent me back. She knew I was here. I’m not even sick—just in for a checkup.”
“I apologize, Mrs. Foster. I’ll take your blood pressure and temperature and make sure the doctor comes in right away.” Faith did the routine tasks while trying to remember when she noticed the flag had been flipped. She made it a habit to look down the hallway every time she went in or out of an exam room, or updated files from her computer, set in the alcove of the hallway. It had not been extended when she had helped with the last patient in exam room four. How could she have missed it?
The woman was just as scathing with the doctor when he arrived. He soothed her and told her how things could get backed up with no warning and he also apologized. Once she left, however, he questioned Faith.
“I don’t know how I missed it. I’m sorry. It won’t happen again,” she said, trying to remember if she’d somehow overlooked the fact that the flag had been out.
“Daydreaming about the sheriff, I expect,” Marjorie murmured as she passed them in the hallway.
“What’s that?” the doctor asked.
Marjorie shrugged. “Our Faith has her eye set on Tate Johnson and spends more time mooning about that than work,” she said.
“That’s not true on any level,” Faith protested. She looked at the doctor. “I do not shirk my responsibilities, nor forget what’s going on by daydreaming. And I’m not after Tate.”
“Then how do you explain forgetting about Mrs. Foster?” she asked.
She looked at Marjorie, suspecting what had happened. “I can’t. I’ll make sure it doesn’t happen again,” she said.
“No harm done,” the doctor said. “Muriel Foster does like to have her way. Are the McCrackin twins in?”
“In the waiting room,” Marjorie said. “Is an exam room ready for them?”
“Exam room three is ready,” Faith said. She tried to keep her composure, sure the older woman had deliberately postponed extending the flag until the patient had waited long enough to become angry. But there was no way to prove it and in a case of a newcomer’s word against a longtime employee’s, she knew she’d look like she was trying to dodge the blame.
The rest of the day Faith checked each exam room when she walked by, to make sure it was empty if it was flagged as empty. But the stress of Marjorie’s actions was getting to her.
How long would it take the receptionist to get over the fact that Faith had the job her niece had vied for?
By afternoon, Faith couldn’t wait to leave work. Two more patients had commented on her dating the sheriff. She’d overheard Marjorie making one of her snide comments and now knew where the rumors had started. Beyond refuting that they were dating, she could do nothing to stop the gossip. Only time would let the topic die out as a new one caught the interest of the town’s residents.
Doubly conscious of the rumors Marjorie was spreading, Faith didn’t want to feed them by being seen around town with Tate. She left a message for him at the sheriff’s office, saying she’d meet him at the singles meeting. When she arrived, he was not there. She gravitated toward Janette and Peter, and they discussed the items that had been donated and made a preliminary plan to pick up what they could for the sale.
Tate still had not arrived when the pastor joined them for the Bible study. Faith wondered where he was and gave a quick prayer that he was all right. Something had probably come up. When her phone vibrated a few minutes into the study, she noted that the number was the clinic. Excusing herself, she hurried outside the fellowship hall to answer.
“Bad accident on one of the rural roads. The sheriff’s department is bringing in two injured. I’ll need your help here,” Dr. Mallory said.
“I’m at the church—I’ll be there in less than five minutes,” she responded. She went back inside to get her purse and explain briefly that she was needed and left. Walking rapidly, she reached the clinic in minutes. The lights were on and the door unlocked.
“Dr. Mallory?” she called.
“Back here, getting things ready.”
She went back and saw exam room one’s door open, the doctor inside laying out a tray of bandages and instruments.
Quickly, she put away her purse and slipped on a tunic she kept in her drawer. It would have to do—she didn’t have time to get home and into a uniform.
“Do you know what happened?” she asked.
“Some fool was driving his truck too fast,” he said. “Lost control around the curve near the Hendricks’ farm and smashed into a tree. Two injured, both teenagers. Sheriff’s Department’s notifying the parents, and they’ll meet us here. We’re doing triage. If they need more care, we’ll transport to the hospital in Monkesville.”
In no time, the fire department’s ambulance pulled up by the front door. The EMTs jumped to the ground and pulled out one gurney with a young woman strapped on for safety. A moment later, they helped a teenage boy out of the back and walked with him into the clinic.
The next half hour was busy with X-rays and sutures, pain meds doled out, and dealing with parents frantic with worry about their children. Faith was conscious of Tate’s presence, the bloody smears on his uniform attesting to his help at the scene. His demeanor calmed the parents. His steady assurances had them feeling better about the situation. And when both teens were given the okay to return home, they thanked the sheriff, the doctor and Faith. And the young man’s parents began telling the boy what the consequences were going to be, now that they knew he was safe.
Tate came to the exam room when everyone had left. “Sorry about missing tonight’s meeting. We got the call just as I was starting out.”
“I wondered where you were,” she said as she began cleaning the exam room. Tate leaned against the doorjamb.
“It could’ve been worse. At least they were both wearing seat belts,” he said, idly watching her work.
“I did. And that we got notified right away. I doubt either would have bled out, but we strive for speedy responses to accidents.” He glanced at her. “The Hendricks’ dog was barking and wouldn’t stop, so he went out to see why. Spotted the truck and called it in.”
“I’m glad neither of them was seriously injured. And it might be a good thing in the long run—they’ll both think twice about driving too fast in the future,” Faith said.
She turned and stopped, since Tate blocked the door. “I need to clean up the other room before I go,” she said.
He nodded and stepped back into the hall, glancing at his clothes. “Pretty gross,” he said.
“I’ve seen worse,” she said, passing him to get to the next room.
Tate followed and again stood in the doorway.
“I need to get home and shower and change,” he said.
He met her eyes.
“I’m fine here, if you’re just waiting until I leave.”
“I’ll wait until you lock up. Then drive you home.”
“Not necessary. No need to give rise to gossip.” She tried to maintain her resolve to keep a distance between them until the rumors died down.
“We can turn out all the lights, sneak to the patrol car. It has tinted windows—no one will see,” he teased, watching her closely.
Faith laughed. “Okay, maybe I’m overreacting, but every third person who came to the clinic today had a comment about you and me. I think Marjorie is fueling the gossip, and I wish she’d stop.”
“Again…why do we care? We know the truth.”
“Which is?”
“I like being with you, you like being with me. We have a good friendship,” he responded.
“Umm.” Hard to refute, except, in all honesty, there was an awareness that could definitely spill over to stronger feelings, if she let it. Which she wouldn’t do.
“Okay, let’s sneak out,” she said, still smiling at the thought.
Tate enjoyed that she was amused by his comment. He liked seeing her happy and laughing. Especially after the gruesome cleanup she’d had to do tonight. Those kids were lucky they hadn’t been injured more seriously.
The drive home was short. Faith insisted she’d be fine getting up the steps to her apartment. Tate stood by the patrol car until she was inside, then headed for the station. He wanted to write up the report and double-check that the truck had been towed. He had a change of clothes at the station and could shower there.
He hoped the gossips would find something else to chew on and leave Faith alone. Until then, he’d do his bit by staying away.
Until Saturday’s barbecue.
Faith drove to the Johnsons’ home Saturday afternoon. She had butterflies as she parked on the street, already crowded with cars, and walked to the house. The day was perfect. The sun shone from a cloudless sky, and there was enough air stirring to keep the temperature comfortable. Hearing the laughter and murmur of conversations from the rear, she walked around the side and stopped. It seemed as if half of Rocky Point was present in the large yard. There was a huge brick barbecue near the back of the house, already smoking. A cement patio about the size of a football field was full of picnic tables, folding chairs, huge umbrellas and people. Large covered bowls and trays of goodies filled two tables sitting in the shade of the house.
She was questioning whether this had been such a good idea when Cecile Johnson spotted her.
“Faith, welcome. Come on over. So glad you could come.” Cecile’s warm welcome chased away the trace of shyness.
Faith greeted her hostess with a smile. “Is half the town here?” she asked, glancing around. Where was Tate?
“Only seems like it sometimes,” Cecile said with a laugh. “Come on, I’ll introduce you around.”
Within minutes, Faith felt even more connected. Turned out, she knew more people than not. Some were patients, others she had met through Trinity Church, a few she’d chatted with at the ice-cream parlor.
“You know Marcie,” Cecile said as they approached the café owner.
“Of course. I enjoy her restaurant probably more than I should.”
“Hey, always glad to welcome customers,” Marcie replied, giving Faith a quick hug. “Anyway, today’s a treat, I don’t have to worry about a thing.”
“Oh, excuse me, I see the Overtons,” Cecile said, giving Faith a little pat on her shoulder.
“Drinks are in the coolers near the barbecue. I think Todd puts them there so he gets to see everyone. Otherwise, he’d miss people, chained to the barbecue as he is.”
“Can’t someone else help?” Faith asked Marcie as they walked his way.
“No way. Todd would never let anyone else approach his barbecue. We were so worried the year he had his stroke that this event would be canceled.” She grinned. “He did allow Tate to help that year. A one-time-only deal, though. Hey, Todd, Faith just got here.”
“Hi, Faith. Help yourself to a drink. We’ll start serving the ribs in about an hour.”
Marcie and Faith wandered from group to group, chatting with neighbors, laughing with friends. Faith loved that fact everyone seemed to know each other and mingled so well.
She still hadn’t seen Tate. Had he been unable to attend?
“There’s Zack. He and his car club. Honestly, you’d think a retired race-car driver could stay away from the track,” Marcie said in fond exasperation.
Faith nodded and looked over toward the spot in the yard Marcie indicated. Zack Kincaid was surrounded by excited, chattering teenagers, and Tate stood beside him with an indulgent expression on his face. When Zack spotted Marcie, he said something and then walked directly toward her. Everyone laughed. Tate stayed where he was, but looked over and gave a wave to Faith. She waved back.
“Tell me more about the car club,” she said when Zack joined them. He put his arm around Marcie’s shoulders.
“Zack started it to help out Sean, a local teenager. Tate was instrumental in getting him connected with a place large enough to have a track,” Marcie explained.
“At first they wanted to race. But the parking lot we took over isn’t conducive to that. So now we have an obstacle course, and parking spots and contests to see who can drive the best—or park the quickest—things like that. Each kid has to have a note from his or her parents to participate,” Zack added.
“And when school starts, they have to keep up their grades,” Marcie chimed in. “That was Tate’s idea.”
“Yeah, I just wanted them to learn driving safety,” Zack said, smiling down at Marcie.
Faith was taken aback by the pure love shining in his eyes. Glancing at Marcie, she saw it reflected in hers. She had once thought she and Allen had shared such a connection.
“Glad you came,” Tate said, drawing her attention away from the other two a second later. “Meet Sean O’Connell. Sean, this is Faith Stewart. She’s the new nurse at the clinic.”
“Nice to meet you,” Sean said, holding out his hand.
“I hear you are the one who got the car club started,” she said to the teenager as she shook his hand.
“Naw, Zack did. It’s great.”
“Go get your drink and take some back to the rest of the kids,” Tate suggested. Sean nodded and took off.
“Sorry I wasn’t here when you arrived. Mom introduce you around?”
“Yes. Then Marcie took over. So, were you at the car club this morning?”
“Yeah, I go as often as I can. Keeps the kids on their toes. Come with me—I need a drink. It’s hotter today than I expected.” They walked to the coolers. Tate greeted his dad, offered to help and was firmly refused. The sheriff smiled and shrugged.
“The car club sounds aw
esome,” she said as they drifted toward the edge of the patio to stand beneath one of the large umbrellas.
“It’s definitely gone a long way in teaching kids about responsible driving,” Tate said. “And it helps that everyone thinks Zack is some kind of hero.”
“Hero?”
“He’s a grand prix racer—won a lot of races. Well known for that.”
“Umm.” She turned to look for him in the crowd. He was still with Marcie, and a couple of others. He looked right at home.
Jenny came running over. “Hi, Faith. How’s my puppy?”
“Doing great. Are you coming tomorrow after church to see her?”
“Yes. And Melissa and Sally Anne, too. If that’s okay.”
Faith smiled. “It sure is. I’ll have snacks.”
“You’re the greatest! Hi, Sheriff Tate. Are you getting a puppy, too?” Jenny asked.
“I’m afraid I’m away from home too much,” he said.
“You can come visit mine when I get her,” Jenny offered.
“Thanks. I’d like that.”
She grinned, then dashed away to rejoin the kids playing on the grass some distance away. Faith counted ten boys and girls around Jenny’s age, but wasn’t sure she included everyone since they were playing tag and running back and forth, laughing and shouting.
The girls must have said something, because a minute later two young boys came running straight toward them.
“Sheriff, my mom said I can go on the tour,” said one of the boys, out of breath when he stopped in front of Tate. He breathed hard for a minute. “But it has to be on a Saturday—I can’t miss school. That starts in two weeks. Can we do it on a Saturday?”
“Sure thing, Jimbo. Want to firm up a date now? I can’t make it for the next few Saturdays. How about the Saturday after the Kincaid wedding, at ten?”
“Okay, I’ll tell my mom.”
“And me, too, Sheriff?” the other boy asked, his eyes shining with hope.
“Of course, Will.” Tate said. The boys high-fived each other and the sheriff. Then they plunged into the group on the patio, searching for their mothers.
Rocky Point Promise Page 13
