Unexpected Daughter. Suzanne Cox
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responded in a voice that rattled the walls. Behind Cade the door to the room swished open and he dreaded the sight of the scowling Mary Carson.
“What’s the problem?”
He didn’t look up immediately, but he noted that this wasn’t Mary’s voice.
“I’m trying to talk with a patient, if you don’t mind,” he barked, turning angrily toward the door. He’d really had enough of people second-guessing his opinion. He was the damned doctor, after all.
“Brij, I got another sore on my leg.”
The old man sat quietly waiting as doctor and intruder stared at each other. Cade knew shock registered on his face, but he couldn’t control it. Brij was obviously short for Brijette, a name he would’ve shot to the moon and back to keep from hearing again. Now the woman had materialized in front of him.
“What are you doing here?” He tried not to wad the patient’s chart in his hand.
She stepped into the room, shutting the door behind her. Green scrubs skimmed over more curves than he remembered, but her silky hair remained jet-black. He wondered, when she let it loose from the tight knot, if it would flow halfway to her waist like it used to. The skin on his chest tingled at the memory of the midnight strands washing across his body, and his hand rubbed the tingling spot automatically, as if the silken pieces had actually touched him.
“I work here.” She passed in front of him to stand next to the patient while he tried to drag his mind to the present, to remember the truth about her.
“You can’t.”
She glanced at him, then began pulling at the tape on the dressing he’d applied only minutes ago. “I can and I do. But don’t you think we should discuss this later?”
Cade hated to admit she made good sense. He stood by while she examined the wound, wanting to tell her she had no business coming in here undermining his authority. She’d likely recommend a hoodoo magic mud potion for the guy and in a few weeks they’d be sending him to a surgeon to have the leg removed.
“I recommended hyperbaric treatments. I believe they have the equipment for that in Baton Rouge.” He waited patiently for her to argue and possibly offer to say a few words over the leg. She’d always had a way with what she called swamp medicine. He called it mumbo jumbo.
“I’m afraid Dr. Wheeler is right.”
“But why can’t I use that red stuff you gave me before?”
“I don’t think that will work. This is much worse than what you had before. I’ll see that Emma schedules transportation for you when she makes the appointment.”
The old man and his wife nodded while Brijette taped the dressing in place. Cade followed her so closely he nearly bumped into her when she stopped in the hall.
“I appreciate you not offering some other treatment to my patient.”
She shrugged. “You ordered what was appropriate.”
“Well, thank you very much, considering that I am the doctor here.”
“And I’m the nurse practitioner. I happened to have seen that patient several times before. He doesn’t take care of himself like he should. But I guess you didn’t see much of that where you came from.”
He frowned. “So what was the red stuff you gave him before? A potion you whipped up from the eye of a lizard and some swamp root?”
A cool mask settled on her face. He didn’t make a habit of belittling people’s backgrounds, but she had made him this way, showed him what really mattered to her. So what did he care if he hurt her feelings?
“Actually, it was a new wound medication we’ve just gotten in. I’ve used it occasionally with good results.”
He hadn’t expected her to answer, and when she did he realized not only did he sound like a complete ass, but they’d drawn a crowd. Two patients from other rooms waited in the hall, watching them. Emma, the receptionist, peered around the corner and a blond girl he’d never seen before appeared near the back door with a plastic box in her arms. She was wearing scrubs, so maybe she worked here, too.
Rather than respond, especially since there wasn’t much he could say, he strode to Emma’s desk and dropped the man’s chart on the counter.
“Schedule hyperbaric treatments for him—it’s in the chart.” He glanced toward Brijette. “And transportation.”
Whatever “transportation” meant. He hoped Emma knew what to do. He didn’t wait for an answer, but left the desk and stomped to his uncle’s office. On the way, he pulled the prescription pad from his pocket. How he’d overlooked her name on it all morning, he’d never know. Maybe his brain had been selectively blocking everything about Brijette Dupre from his mind, including her name printed right in front of him.
CHAPTER THREE
“WHY DIDN’T YOU TELL me Brijette Dupre worked in this clinic?”
His uncle leaned away from his desk. “Why don’t you sit down, Cade?”
Cade walked across the small office and dropped into a chair.
The older man sighed. “Honestly, I wasn’t sure what existed between the two of you all those years ago. I knew you didn’t part…happily. I figured you might not come if you knew she worked here. I hoped once the two of you met again, you could get past your differences.”
Realizing his lungs might burst from holding his breath, Cade let the air slip between his teeth in a soft hiss. He’d made an idiot of himself in front of his uncle. Uncle Arthur knew he and Brijette had been more than friends, but if Cade acted like a scorned lover, everyone would think he still had feelings for her.
“I’m concerned she’ll practice her brand of medicine in this clinic on patients I’m responsible for.”
“What brand of medicine do you mean?”
“You know exactly what I mean—all those voodoo, hoodoo remedies. I know her grandmother taught her that stuff.”
“She does know the old customs, but she’s a licensed nurse practitioner and that’s what she does here.” Doc paused for a moment, his brows knitting together. “Brijette’s completely ethical and would never jeopardize a patient’s health.”
Cade twisted in his seat. “Well…I’m not sure if I trust her.”
His uncle smiled. “You’ll see she’s completely trustworthy. Remember she was only seventeen when you were here before. Whatever happened, just keep that in mind. You’ve both done some maturing since then.”
He nodded, unwilling to say what he was really thinking, which was that certain people never changed. Instead he moved on to another topic of concern.
“If I’m going to run this clinic, she’s not going to be off on Thursdays. I’ll need her here.”
Doc sat forward, crossing his arms on the desktop. “No, she won’t go for that. Besides, she’s not off on Thursday. She has a makeshift clinic in one of the small communities near the river, taking care of patients who can’t make the trip here to see a doctor.”
“She’ll have to postpone it until you’re able to work again.”
His uncle straightened, his features hardening. “No, Cade. I’ve worked this clinic by myself and you can, too. If it’s too much for you, I’ll postpone my surgery until I find another doctor to help while I’m away.”
If he’d wanted a reason to leave, he had one now. He could say it was too much work and take off to Dallas immediately. He studied the slightly pasty complexion of the man in front of him. He actually owed his uncle more than a few months’ work at his clinic. The man had taught him about life, and not the high-society life his mother had so wanted him to adhere to.
Cade