The Magnificent M.D. (3 page)

“Apologies and explanations would be a start, yes. But I'm not going back to New Hope,” he said, setting his cup down with a loud bang. “Ever. Not for you. Not for anyone. Is that clear?”

“Yes,” she murmured, but her eyes said no, it wasn't. Apparently it wasn't clear and she wasn't finished with him yet. Lord, she was maddening. Just as determined as she'd been at eighteen. Maybe more so. But he wasn't eighteen anymore. He'd built up a fortress of defenses since then. He'd carefully roped off his childhood from questions and inquiries. Now he was face-to-face with someone who knew all about him. The sooner he got rid of her, the better.

She reached across the table and gently ran her fingers across his palm. It was just a casual gesture, but coming from her it was incredibly sensual. His gaze locked on hers for a long moment, and his heart thudded. His hand throbbed, the hand he'd used to take out his frustrations on a door last Sunday. He yanked it away and broke eye contact.

He had to get up and leave, to get out of there, to get away from her, but for some reason, he couldn't move. Not with her sitting there, looking at him expectantly, with the ceiling lights turning her blond hair to gold. Waiting for him to give in and say yes. Which he was not going to do.

“You've told me more than I want to know about New Hope, Hayley, but precious little about yourself. You haven't answered my question. Is there a man in your life? Are you married?” he asked, his voice carefully neutral, just to let her know it really didn't matter, he was only mildly curious.

“Not anymore.”

He kept his face a mask of indifference, but inside he heaved a sigh of relief. He didn't know why. He didn't really care if she was married to the mayor and had five kids. It made absolutely no difference to him.

She shifted in her seat and looked over his shoulder, avoiding his gaze. “I prefer not to talk about it if you don't mind.”

“You don't want to talk about your past, and I don't want to talk about my future. Maybe we ought to call it a day,” he said.

“Not yet,” she said, tucking one leg under the other on the vinyl bench. “I don't mind talking about my past, it's just my marriage that I'd rather forget.”

“That bad?”

“That bad. What about you?”

“Doctors make lousy spouses.”

“Too busy?” she asked.

“Busy, unfaithful, self-centered, arrogant. You name it. So I never married. And have no intention of doing so.”

“Girlfriends?” she asked.

“When it's convenient,” he said.

“For you, not them,” she said with a wry smile.

“Of course,” he said. “They come and go.”

“Mostly go,” she muttered, and gave a little shiver of disapproval. She obviously understood only too well. The description of doctors and of his lifestyle disgusted her, and he almost wished he could take it back. He didn't have
to explain he was guilty of most of the above, he could tell by the look in her eyes she thought it went with the territory. He'd never been unfaithful, though, he wanted her to know that. But then he'd never been faithful, either, because there was nobody to be faithful to. Let her think the worst of him. It was better that way. He had an uncontrollable desire to reach across the table and take her hand. So he did. Just a random, casual gesture. He found that her fingers were frigid.

“You're cold,” he said. “You need something hot to eat and so do I.” He ordered two bowls of clam chowder before she had a chance to protest that she wasn't hungry or that she was watching her weight. Many of the women he saw professionally or socially were on strict diets and often suffered from severe cases of vanity and self-absorption. Could Hayley be any different? She could be anything. He didn't know her anymore. But God help him, he wanted to. He wanted to know where she'd been and who'd she'd been with and what she'd been doing…. Heshouldn't ask, he knew he shouldn't, but he did.

“Go on,” he said. “What did you do with that expensive college education your parents paid for?”

“A little of this, a little of that. Nothing very useful, I'm ashamed to say. Until I joined the Peace Corps.”

“You, the prom queen, in the Peace Corps?” he asked, trying to imagine her living without running water or electricity. “What did you do?”

“I was doing what they call community development in a little village in Africa. They say it's the toughest job you'll ever have and it was. Until then I didn't realize how spoiled I was…. Don't smile, Sam, you knew I was spoiled. You told me often enough. I should have known, but I didn't. The whole experience was maddening, frus
trating and demoralizing, but I learned more in those two years than I had in all the years before.”

“What, for example?” he asked as the waitress set the bowls of steaming soup in front of them.

She crumbled a cracker slowly and deliberately into her chowder, then looked up at him. “Self-reliance, independence. But I didn't come here to talk about myself, Sam. I came—”

“I know why you came—you told me. But it's no use. I thought we agreed we'd get caught up, then you'd go back to your room at the St. Francis or wherever it is you're staying. And tomorrow you can fly home and get hold of a data base of general practitioners and find somebody else. Somebody who wants to practice in a quaint, little town on a picturesque Oregon bay…who'd appreciate the clam-digging and the fresh air. How hard can that be?”

He laced his description of New Hope with sarcasm as thick as the cream he stirred into his coffee so she wouldn't miss his meaning. To him that quaint little town had been his prison, from which he'd finally escaped. But even as he said the words he could feel the wind off the water, smell the odor of fish from the plant down at the dock, see the water crash against the breakwater as he jumped barefoot from rock to rock. No, they weren't all bad memories. Just most of them.

“I've already tried that,” she said.

“Then try again,” he suggested brusquely.

“Do you think I liked coming here, Sam? Do you think it was easy for me to barge into your office that way, knowing how you feel about me and my family and the town? I've tried everyone and everything. You're my last hope, Sam.”

“What part of no didn't you understand?” he asked. “Nothing could make me go back. Nothing.” He wanted
to slam his fist on the table for emphasis, but that was probably just what she expected from a hot-headed, impulsive surgeon with a chip on his shoulder. He had to control himself, try to stay reasonable, try to get Hayley to accept his decision, go home and fade out of his life again. This time for good.

She stirred her soup thoughtfully, then folded and refolded her napkin while he watched her.

“What about your debt?” she asked at last.

“Debt? I don't have any debt. I had a scholarship to medical school. A free ride. You'll find that hard to believe. That anyone believed in me enough to invest in my future, to fund my education. But they did.”

“I don't find it hard to believe. I always knew you'd be a success. I didn't know
how
successful you'd be. Not until now. Did you ever wonder who your anonymous benefactor was?” she asked, looking up at him from under her impossibly long lashes.

He set his spoon on the table and gave her a long, hard look. Their gazes locked and held as the seconds and the minutes ticked by. His jaw locked into place. His head pounded. And he knew. He knew then what he'd always wondered, what he'd always suspected, and what he'd always known deep down. That he was going back to New Hope whether he wanted to or not. Because he wasn't going to be in debt to or dependent on anyone.

“I have a feeling you're going to tell me, aren't you? Go ahead, Hayley, get it over with and make my day. That's what you came for, isn't it? That's what you've been waiting for.”

B
efore she left the next day, Hayley offered him a ride up the rugged coast in her vintage Chrysler, another legacy from her grandfather, but he declined. That was all he needed, to spend sixteen hours in a car with her…with the smell of her subtle floral perfume wafting his way, her profile always in sight, the curve of her cheek, the arch of her eyebrow. An occasional glimpse of her full breasts under her sweater.

Not that he didn't want the opportunity to hit her with some hard questions. Number one: was it fair to lay this guilt trip on him? Next: how and when and why had the scholarship come about? No doubt it had been meant to encourage him to go to med school, a poor boy, a onetime delinquent who'd barely made it through four years of undergraduate school by busing tables in the cafeteria by day and tending bar at night. But wasn't it also a way to assuage the old man's conscience, too?

There would be time to ask her. Time for her to explain, if she could, what had happened back then. There would be six months, to be exact. So he left a few days after she did, after he'd loaded his black Porsche with the tools of his trade, his notebook computer with a CD Rom and access to the latest developments in medicine from every known medical journal, updated daily, a box of medical journals, clothes and a few, very few, personal items. He didn't need much. He wasn't going to be there that long. Just long enough to pay off his debt.

He thought long and hard about the debt as he drove the coast highway. It was going to take some getting used to after years of feeling no obligation to anyone. He'd pretty much raised himself, put himself through school and now he was in practice for himself. But not out of debt. Not yet. Not for six months. It left a bitter taste in his mouth, hearing he owed her grandfather and, by extension, Hayley and the whole town. He thought he'd done it all on his own. He was proud of that.

It was a good feeling, being independent. Having no one dependent on him. After a childhood spent in poverty he was able to buy whatever he wanted, the fastest motorcycle, the most expensive sports car. Yes, he had a good life. Things were going well…except for the occasional outburst when things didn't go right. He couldn't stand losing a patient. Refused to believe it had to happen. He didn't need to take a break. He'd fully intended to go and confront Al one more time. And he would have if Hayley hadn't come back in his life…if she'd kept the secret the way her grandfather had asked her to.

He drove slowly through town, holding the memories at arm's length, trying to see it as a stranger would, instead of as the town bad boy. He noted the fragrant smell of freshly sawed Douglas fir, indicating the mill was still in
operation. What did they do without a doctor in town when there were injuries? he wondered. The brick buildings on Main Street looked the same, though several shops had closed and boarded their windows. He rolled down his windows to let the salt air rush in and fill his nostrils. He'd forgotten how invigorating it could be. How stale it made all other air feel.

He couldn't bring himself to go in to Doc Bancroft's old office yet, so he drove past the office that occupied the building that had once been somebody's clapboard house. But that was way before his time. It had been the doctor's office since Sam could remember. Where the old man had practiced medicine with a firm hand. Where Sam himself had been treated for injuries more than once. And once too often. He drove slowly around the block, wondering idly where the bed and breakfast was she said she'd book him into, trying to imagine how he was going to practice general medicine in this town for one day, let alone six months.

 

“Stop pacing,” Matilda Whitlock ordered Hayley. “And stop staring out the window. He's not coming. He never did anything he was supposed to do in his life. Why should he start now?”

“For one reason, he said he would,” Hayley told the rotund nurse, veteran of several decades of service to her grandfather.

“Hah!”

“For another reason,” Hayley continued, “he's changed. He's a successful surgeon. You wouldn't recognize him, Mattie.”

“Want to bet? He's still a good-looking son of a gun, I suppose?”

“I guess so.” Hayley bent over to straighten a stack of
recent magazines on the end table, hoping Mattie wouldn't see the flush that stained her cheeks. The woman saw far too much, remembered everything and was loyal to those she loved and unforgiving to anyone with a character flaw. Sam had had plenty. But that hadn't stopped Hayley from falling madly in love with him at first sight. Now that she was older and wiser, she no longer believed in such a phenomenon. In fact, she didn't believe she'd ever fall in love again with anyone. At first sight or second or ever.

“I'm surprised he'd even think about coming back to New Hope,” the nurse said, dusting off the top of her desk. “After what happened.”

“He didn't want to come, but I talked him into it. It wasn't easy, so I hope—”

“You know what I hope?” Mattie asked, cocking her head to one side. “I hope you won't go losing your head again over that boy. Getting your heart broken again.”

“He's not a boy, Mattie, and I'm not an impressionable girl. I'm a grown woman, and my heart is quite safe, thank you very much. Which reminds me, did you get the results of that heart scan you had last week in Newport?”

“Don't try to change the subject,” Mattie admonished.

Hayley frowned. Like so many health professionals, Mattie thought she was invincible. Either that or she was afraid to learn the results, so she hadn't taken the test. Hayley decided this wasn't the time to press the issue. Maybe Sam could persuade her… Oh, sure, Sam telling Mattie what to do? That would be the day.

“I just hope people here will forget about his past,” Hayley continued, “and accept him for what he is. And I hope he likes it here. Enough to consider staying.”

“Staying for good?” Mattie raised her eyebrows as if Hayley had suggested the town rise up and give Sam a standing ovation for returning home. “The idea of that boy
taking over your grandfather's practice for good, let alone six months…” She gave a shudder of revulsion to show her disapproval.

Hayley took a deep breath. “It's probably not going to happen, so let's not argue about it, Mattie.”

“I'm not arguing. I'm just saying I know he's not a boy anymore, but in my mind he'll always be this town's bad boy no matter what he's done since. And I'm not the only one who feels that way. People don't change, Hayley.”

“As I was saying,” Hayley said, trying to ignore the woman's negative attitude. “Though I know it's not likely, I hope he'll consider staying.”

“For the town's sake, of course,” Mattie said dryly, slanting a knowing look at Hayley.

“Of course for the town's sake. You know as well as I do how much we need a doctor, how people put off getting a checkup, postpone seeing a doctor all because it's a three-hour drive over a winding road to a clinic. With a doctor in town people can sleep better at night. I know I will.”

Mattie cocked her head and gave her a knowing look. “My, my. So Sam Prentice is going to be the answer to our prayers. Cure our insomnia. Save the town. Keep us all healthy. What else? Bring back tourism?”

“Well…” Hayley said.

“While he's at it, how about bringing back the stores on Main Street? I hated to see the dry-goods store close,” Mattie admitted, “not that they carried my size, but still…”

“I didn't say he could perform miracles. He'd be the first to admit he hasn't ever practiced general medicine. He's a surgeon, you know.” She glanced out the window. Where was he? What if Mattie was right and he wasn't coming? What if he'd given in just to get rid of her and
had no intention of following through by actually coming to New Hope? She was going to feel like a fool after spreading the word they had a doctor, if only for six months.

“A surgeon? Where's he gonna do his surgery? We haven't got an operating room, last time I looked. But that's okay. Now that Sam's here everything will be fine, isn't that what you think?” Mattie demanded. “Maybe you're right. Maybe he has changed. I just don't want to see you get hurt again. That boy was trouble from the first moment I laid eyes on him and don't you forget it. You say he's changed? I've got to see that for myself.
If
he comes, that is.”

“He
will
come,” Hayley insisted. He had to come. She had to make it up to him. Explain what happened. The money Grandpa spent on his education was a start, but she had to do her part. Try to make him see they'd had no choice. Because she was to blame for what happened as much as her grandfather.

 

After another trip around the block, Sam finally parked and walked up the sidewalk past a neatly trimmed lawn to the old house with impatiens blooming brightly in the window boxes. Was that Hayley's touch? Engraved on a plaque on the door was his name. His name? How could that be? Who knew he was coming in time to engrave something? He reeled backward. How in the hell…?

Hayley opened the door before he'd even knocked. She was wearing trim designer jeans and a sweater, and she looked like the cat that swallowed the canary. Damn her for the smug smile on her face.

“What the hell is this?” he asked, pointing to the plaque.

“It's your name. It's your office. Do you like it?”

“It looks permanent,” he said with a frown.

“Oh, no,” she said lightly. “I'll have it sanded off and another name put in. As soon as we get our permanent doctor.”

“How did you find the time to have it made? Don't tell me you were so confident you had it engraved before you even left for San Francisco?”

“Let's just say I was hopeful,” she said, her eyes sparkling. She'd won and she knew it. “Come in and look around. I made some changes after Grandpa died. He would never let me touch a thing.”

“Stubborn old coot,” Sam muttered.

“Think what you want, but he was the last of the old-time doctors. Made house calls and never turned anyone away.”

“Not even me,” Sam said under his breath.

“Hello, Sam,” the nurse said. She was sitting behind her desk against the far wall as if she hadn't moved in sixteen years. Maybe she hadn't. Her tone was as frosty as ever, her uniform just as starchy. She'd put on a few pounds, but her expression was the same, stiff and stern and definitely disapproving. He felt as if he was eighteen again, coming in to be patched up for one last time.

“Hello, Ms. Whitlock.”

“I never expected to see you here again,” Mattie said.

“That makes two of us,” he said.

“Think you can take Doc's place, do you?” she asked.

“Now, Mattie,” Hayley cautioned. “No one will ever take Grandpa's place. But Sam has very graciously, very generously agreed to fill in for him. For a while.”

Gracious…generous? That was typical Hayley. Putting a positive spin on everything. Refusing to recognize reality. Except for one thing. The reality that the town bad boy
from the wrong side of the tracks could
not
end up with the town princess and live happily ever after.

“For a short while,” he said firmly. “I'll be out of here and out of your hair in six months.”

“Humph,” Mattie said with a sniff. “What made you come back at all?”

Sam glanced at Hayley, who gave an almost imperceptible shrug. Was it possible that she and her grandfather were the only ones who knew about the scholarship? He hoped so.

“The fresh air. The fishing. The golf. The friendly people,” he said.

Mattie raised her eyebrows. “I'm no stranger to sarcasm, young man,” she said. “I suppose Hayley told you I'll be your assistant. Where you come from you probably have a group of medical students you can order around. And a team of residents. I've seen how it is on those TV doctor shows. But that's not the way it is here. And don't think I'm always going to be available to help you out. In fact, I only work half days on account of my heart.”

“What's wrong with your heart?” he asked.

“Nothing,” she snapped. “I just don't want to strain it.”

“You work half days, I'll work the other half,” Hayley interjected.

Sam turned to look at her, and so did the nurse.

“You?” they chorused.

“Yes, me. Of course I don't have the training or the experience that you do, Mattie, but I might be able to do the billing and…whatever else is needed.”

Sam glared at her. No. He didn't want her in the office, distracting him, trying to help out. Reminding him he was there under duress. Of course, he didn't want old stone-face around, either. He just wished it didn't have to be
either of them. But he was going to need someone. It was true. He had medical students to do his scut work. Interns who made rounds with him and hung on every word he said. And he hadn't the slightest idea how to run an office.

“Well,” Hayley said brightly, “let's take a tour, Sam. I'm afraid the equipment is sadly out-of-date,” she said as they went from the waiting room to the office to the examining room. “Just give me a list of what you'll need, and I'll order it.”

“I'll manage,” he said gruffly. He knew now why he should never have come. Once again he felt like the poor kid from the wrong side of the tracks being patched up by Doc Bancroft. The kid who couldn't pay his bill, couldn't even leave a sack of apples on the porch.

“It's only for six months,” he reminded her and himself. He looked out the back window at a young woman pushing a stroller down Elm Street, and he wondered if he would remember how to deliver a baby, if he'd be telephoned in the middle of the night to reassure anxious parents when their kids were spiking fevers of 104 or having an asthmatic attack. “Maybe no one will come. Maybe they'd rather drive to Portland than put themselves in my hands. Did you ever think of that?” he asked Hayley.