The Doctor's Perfect Match. Irene Hannon
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by, he discovered it wasn’t quite as easy to distance himself from the image of those defeated green eyes.
Chapter One
“Are you getting a cold, dear?”
Stifling a sneeze, Marci Clay continued to wash the china plates by hand as Edith Shaw, her new sister-in-law’s Lighthouse Lane neighbor, bustled in from The Devon Rose’s dining room with another tray of glasses. It had taken them all afternoon and into the early evening to put the tearoom back in order after yesterday afternoon’s wedding reception.
“I hope not.”
“You’ve been working too hard since you’ve been here.” Edith tut-tutted as she slid the tray onto the stainless-steel food-prep station in the middle of the kitchen. “It was a very generous gesture, offering to manage the tearoom while Heather and J.C. are on their honeymoon. But that’s a lot to take on with very little preparation.”
In hindsight, Marci had to admit Edith was right. Given her meager cash reserves, however, it had been the best wedding gift she’d been able to offer. Volunteering to keep Heather’s tearoom running during their absence had allowed her brother and his bride to take a longer honeymoon—a gift they’d assured her was priceless. And with her just-earned diploma in hand and no job yet lined up, she had the time.
She’d also assumed her years of waitressing experience would be a sufficient background for the duties at The Devon Rose. But during her indoctrination last week under Heather’s tutelage, she’d quickly realized that the world of high tea and Ronnie’s Diner were at opposite ends of the spectrum.
The only thing that had kept her from panicking was Edith’s willingness to help—plus the invaluable support of Heather’s capable assistant, Julie Watson. Knowing she could count on those two women to back her up, Marci had convinced herself she could pull this off.
What she hadn’t counted on was getting a cold.
“Having a few second thoughts?”
At Edith’s question, Marci regarded the older woman. Her short contemporary hairstyle might feature silvery gray locks, but she radiated youthful energy, and her eyes sparkled with enthusiasm—and insight.
“Maybe.” Marci shoved a springy curl out of her eye with the back of her wet hand. “I’ve done a lot of waitressing, and I’m a decent cook, but this is a really high-class operation. I feel a little out of my league among all this linen and fine china and sterling silver.”
“Join the club.” Edith chuckled and planted her hands on her ample hips. “I’m more of a chilidog-and-French-fry gal myself. And I’m sure Emily Post or Miss Manners would have a field day critiquing my table etiquette. But if I can get the hang of this tea thing, you can, too.”
“I appreciate the encouragement.” The words came out scratchy as Marci continued to work her way through the pile of plates.
“Goodness!” Edith gave a sympathetic shake of her head. “I hate to say it, but that sounds like the beginning of a cold to me.”
“I think I’m just tired.” She’d been working extra hours at Ronnie’s to build up her anemic savings account, had stayed up late and consumed far too much caffeine studying for finals and finishing term papers, then had rushed off to Nantucket to learn the ropes at The Devon Rose and participate in all the wedding festivities.
The walk home in the rain last night from the restaurant hadn’t helped, either. She should never have indulged in that pity party—nor let regrets about her own bad choices overshadow her joy in J.C.’s well-deserved happiness.
“I’ll tell you what.” Edith surveyed the kitchen. “We’ve got most of the mess cleaned up. The tearoom’s closed tomorrow and Tuesday, so there’s nothing urgent that needs to be done today. Why don’t you turn in and let me finish up? It’s better to throw off a cold early than to run yourself down and end up sicker.”
That was true, Marci conceded. Besides, she was feeling more lethargic by the minute.
“If you’re sure you don’t mind, I think I will.”
“Of course I don’t mind.” Edith shooed her away from the dishwasher and pushed up the sleeves of her I
Not all families, Marci amended in silence as she thanked Edith and headed upstairs. Hers hadn’t been anything like that. Except for J.C, who’d stuck by his brother and sister even through the dark times, despite their efforts to push him away.
Now, thanks to him, she and Nathan had gotten their acts together. But they both had a lot to make up for on the one-for-all, all-for-one front. That’s why she was determined to follow through on her commitment to keep The Devon Rose running during J.C. and Heather’s absence.
Crawling into bed, Marci pulled the covers up to her chin, closed her eyes and hoped that whatever bug was trying to establish a toehold would give up and retreat.
“Thanks for stopping by, Christopher. Sorry to interrupt your holiday weekend.”
Christopher frowned as he followed Edith to the front door of her house. What holiday?
Then it dawned on him. This was Memorial Day, a time of fun—and rest—for most people. For him, it was just another workday.
“No problem, Edith. I needed to come into town anyway to visit a few patients in the hospital. And I’m on duty in the E.R. later.”
“Don’t you ever take a day off?”
He smiled. “Now and then.”
Shaking her head, she stopped at the door, her hand on the knob. “You know what they say about all work and no play.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
“You do that. Anyway, I hated to call you, but Kate worries so much about Maddie that I get paranoid over even the slightest sniffle when I’m babysitting the girls.”
After his numerous visits to Kate’s small cottage, which was tucked between Edith’s house and The Devon Rose, Christopher was well aware of the charter-fishing captain’s worries about her daughter. “It’s better to err on the side of caution with asthma. I’m glad it was a false alarm.” Shifting his black medical bag from one hand to the other, he checked his watch. “I’d better be off if I want to get to the E.R. on time.”
To his surprise, Edith didn’t budge. “I hate to delay you any further, but I’m a little concerned about Heather’s new sister-in-law.”
“Heather Anderson? From The Devon Rose?” He saw the tearoom owner regularly at church, though they weren’t well acquainted.
“Yes.”
“She got married this weekend, didn’t she?”
“Yes. A small, intimate wedding. Very romantic.”
“What’s the problem with her sister-in-law?”
“I hope nothing. She’s supposed to manage the tearoom while Heather and J.C. are in Europe on their honeymoon, but yesterday she seemed to be getting sick. If she’s still feeling under the weather, would you mind popping in before you head to the hospital? I could rustle up a loaf of pumpkin bread for you to sweeten the deal.”
Christopher grinned. “Sold.”
Her eyes twinkling, Edith waved him to a chair. “Give me one minute while I ring her.”
The minute stretched to five, and when Edith returned with a plastic-wrapped loaf of pumpkin bread in hand, her face was etched with concern.
“She sounds terrible. But she said asking you to stop by is too much of an imposition and not