The Doctor's Christmas. Marta Perry
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handled it herself, but that was why he was here. Wasn’t it?
He half listened to her chiding the kid about crossing some creek on a log. He’d committed himself to tending the medical needs of this western Maryland mountain county for the next month. It wasn’t what he’d intended to do after completing his residency, but the eventual reward would be worthwhile.
So here he was, lost in the wilderness until Christmas. He suppressed the edge that always entered his mind at the thought of the holiday.
At least, this job would get him away from his mother’s round of society parties. That was something to appreciate, anyway.
The boy had stopped wiggling, listening intently as—what had the mother called her? Maggie, that was it—as Maggie told him a story about encountering a bear in the woods. Fanciful, but it kept him quiet.
“There you are.” He stood back, pleased with the neat stitches. He hadn’t lost his touch. “The nurse will give you a sheet of follow-up instructions.”
He went to the sink to wash up. Before he treated any more patients, he’d get a lab coat out of his bag. It didn’t look as if he could count on the free clinic to provide them.
He heard the soft murmur of the nurse’s voice as she took mother and son to the outer office, explaining the instructions to the mother. Nurse Maggie seemed to have all the kindness in the world for her patients. And none for him.
Well, that was too bad. Presumably she was used to working with different doctors, since they rotated in and out of this place. She’d just have to adjust to his way of doing things.
If he stayed. The thought that had recurred since he left Baltimore came again. He didn’t have to stay.
The outer door had closed. He went back to the reception area, noticing pale green walls that needed a new paint job, posters urging flu shots and well-baby checkups, a row of metal folding chairs. Maggie whatever-her-name-was stood at the desk in the little cubbyhole behind the counter, frowning down at an envelope in her hand.
“Let’s start over again.” He leaned against the doorjamb, giving her what he hoped was a friendly smile. “I’m Grant Hardesty, volunteer doctor of the month.”
The woman’s chocolate-colored eyes seemed made for smiling, but they held a cool reserve when she looked at him. “I’m Maggie Davis. Permanent nurse.” She laid a faint stress on the word.
“Nice to meet you, Maggie.” It hadn’t been so far, but things might improve. He slid his jacket back on.
She lifted the envelope she held. “Your paperwork arrived the same day you did, Doctor. That’s the way the mail usually functions up here in the mountains. I didn’t think they’d send us a new doctor until after the holidays.”
“You got lucky,” he said lightly.
“Yes.” She looked him over, seeming to estimate the cost of his leather jacket and Italian loafers. “Now that you’ve seen what Button Gap is like, do you still intend to stay?”
There was a challenge in the words that he didn’t miss. For whatever reason, Maggie Davis either didn’t want him to stay or didn’t think he would. Or maybe both.
Well, she was wrong. With faint surprise, he realized that at some point in the past half hour, he’d made a decision.
He lifted an eyebrow, smiling slightly. “Sorry to disappoint you, Ms. Davis. I fully intend to stay.”
In her need to get rid of him, she’d given herself away. Maggie gritted her teeth. She should at least pretend to be welcoming.
“I’m not disappointed. It’s just that the last volunteer doctor they sent us from the city couldn’t make it twenty-four hours without his mocha lattes.”
His eyes, as changeably blue and green as Elk Lake, narrowed a little at the implied criticism. His eyebrow quirked in a question. “Does that mean people will be taking chances on how long I’ll stay?”
The county board that ran the clinic would undoubtedly not appreciate her antagonizing the new doctor the first hour he was here. She tried to smile.
“It won’t be that bad. But outsiders do sometimes find staying in Button Gap a bit of a culture shock.”
“I’m here to provide medical services, not run for citizen of the year.” He abandoned the casual posture, straightening to an imposing six feet or so. The height went well with his classic, even features, his expensively cut brown hair and the tilt of his head that seemed to say he was better than everyone else.
She stiffened her spine. Aunt Elly would call him a “fine figure of a man,” no doubt. Well, Aunt Elly didn’t have to work with him.
“No, they won’t elect you citizen of the year,” she said. “But they’ll probably arrive bearing welcoming casseroles.”
“I’ll have to count on you to tell me how to respond, won’t I?” He gestured toward the doorway. “For now, you can give me the grand tour.”
She nodded, moving reluctantly past him, getting a whiff of some expensive, musky aftershave. She knew his type. She’d certainly seen it enough times. Dr. Grant Hardesty was your typical doctor-on-the-way-up, filled with the arrogance that came from an expensive education, a doting family and a hospital staff who’d probably catered to his every whim.
She was stuck with him for the next month, and he couldn’t have come at a worse time. A fleeting surge of panic touched her, and she beat it back down. She didn’t panic.
In spite of the determined set to the man’s firm mouth, she doubted he’d last a week, let alone a month. He probably had an elegant girlfriend back in Baltimore and a list of holiday parties a mile long. She’d just make sure he didn’t tumble onto her secret in the meantime.
“You’ve already seen our exam room.” She started down the hall.
He stopped her with a light touch on the arm. “Room, singular?”
The criticism in his voice annoyed her all over again. “One exam room.” The words were crisp. “One waiting room. One nurse/secretary/receptionist. This is a free clinic, not Johns Hopkins. We’re lucky the county provides the building and my salary.”
He lifted his hands. “Okay, truce. I was just surprised. I know you serve most of the county.”
She nodded. At least he realized how big this job was. “Lots of miles, but not so many people. Not enough, anyway, to convince a doctor to stay full-time since old Doc Harriman died, and that was fifteen years ago.”
She gestured toward the door they passed. “That’s locked storage. We have to keep meds on hand, because the nearest pharmacy is twenty miles away.”
He frowned, absorbing that information. “Where do you take patients if it’s something we can’t handle here?”
“Hagerstown has the closest hospital, and that’s a good forty miles. They have a Life Flight chopper they can bring in, unless the weather’s bad.”
“You make Button Gap sound like the last frontier.”
“Maybe it is, when it comes to medical care, anyway.”
He wouldn’t appreciate the significance of that. How could he? Someone like Grant Hardesty couldn’t understand either the terrifying challenge or the immense satisfaction of providing the only medical care some of Button Gap’s residents would ever have.
They reached the end of the hall. “The office.” She swung the door open. “You can use it, but some of the patient files and insurance forms are stored in here, so I’m in and out all the time.”
She’d found it best to make that clear right away with the visiting doctors. Otherwise, they’d assume it was their private sanctuary.
He glanced dismissively at the tiny room with its battered oak desk, flea-market