The Doctor's Devotion. Cheryl Wyatt
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ex got arrested for speeding past a school bus and almost striking a child. That was my last straw,” she explained.
“He was reckless in general. With others’ lives and their relationship.” Lem relaxed. “I’m glad she refused to marry a man who’ll have little regard for his future children’s safety.”
While Grandpa was right, Lauren felt like sinking into the seat. She didn’t like Mitch knowing about the poor judgments she’d made.
“Do you miss him?” Mitch asked gently.
“No, actually I don’t.”
He’d not only ignored Lauren’s frequent pleas to slow down, he’d ridiculed her for caring. Mitch was obviously the precise opposite kind of person. One who cared deeply about the safety of others. If only that would ease her concern over his closeness with Lem. Maybe in time. Right now, it hurt. Badly. Still…
“It makes me feel better knowing Grandpa has someone like you looking out for him.” Lauren meant it. She shouldn’t be jealous. The men’s friendship should ease her guilt about living in Texas. But being here with Grandpa and the fear that he contended with made her never want to leave him again.
Unfortunately she’d given her word to her best friend, who’d forfeited her career to start the specialty business with Lauren. They’d poured their talents, time and savings into it. The first pangs of doubt about her decision assailed Lauren.
Lauren studied Mitch. Did he know why Grandpa’s fear surfaced now? He needed to. Maybe he could help alleviate Grandpa’s anxiety. Just because Lem’s grandfather and father died in their seventieth year didn’t mean Lem would. Right?
For a fleeting moment, she hated that she’d taken out a loan to start her seamstress shop and bound herself to be a business partner with her friend. It hog-tied her to Texas.
“He misses his only granddaughter.” Mitch raised his chin in a perceiving manner. “Lem tells me your parents died within hours of one another. I’m deeply sorry. What was it?”
His frankness surprised her. “Carbon monoxide poisoning. Their room sat over the garage of a house we’d moved into that winter. Daddy started the car to warm it up before taking me to school and Mom to work. They lay back down and…never woke up.” Lauren blinked swiftly against a wave of emotion.
“Losing her mama and daddy made Lauren want to become a nurse to help people,” Lem inserted. “And educate on safety and accident prevention.”
“I hear you,” Mitch said soberly. “I believe every accident is one-hundred-percent preventable. My dad perished in a motorcycle wreck.”
“Across the road from the trauma center site,” Lem added.
Had that inspired Mitch to build it? Lauren studied him.
Mitch turned onto the interstate that led Refuge to Eagle Point. “Dad was critically wounded. He could’ve been saved by surgery, had a hospital been closer, and if the person who pulled out in front of him had been looking.”
Lem clicked his tongue. “He also lost his mama. She died from cancer not caught in time. She didn’t have insurance and put off going to the doctor until too late.”
“But thanks to Lem inviting me to church chili-suppers and becoming like a second dad, I turned out all right.” He grinned.
Lauren’s heart arched toward Mitch. “I know what it feels like to lose someone to something preventable.”
Lem harrumphed. “Yeah, preventable like me losing you to Texas again when your building renovations are complete. I hope you hired horrible contractors who delay the timeline.”
“Grandpaaaa. Don’t be cranky. My friend sacrificed a lot to go into business with me. She’d be devastated if I bailed.”
“Yes, it’s prudent to honor your word, but that doesn’t make up for the fact that you made this big decision out of duress.”
“I’m glad you’re here, Lauren.” Mitch’s chuckle dissolved the squabble. He sounded like he really meant his words.
She crammed her hands under her knees. “Thanks. The seamstress shop will specialize in costumes and uniforms. A percentage goes toward charities for children who’ve lost parents.” For some reason her formerly noble plans felt barren.
“She makes specialty clothes for free to needy little kids and nursing home patrons, too,” Lem added. “Nice, although I hate that she’s not using her nursing skills like her sewing gift.”
“Grandpa! We don’t discuss that,” she remarked gently. Futile since she inherited her stubborn streak from Lem.
A determined scowl bore down on Lem’s bulbous nose and farm-freckled grin. “She don’t like me pestering her about it.”
“So I won’t tread there, either,” Mitch said with another tension-diffusing smile, which thinned into a tenacious line as his gaze gripped Lauren’s in the mirror. “Yet.”
What did that mean? She eyed Lem, smug now, then Mitch. Neither man’s expression offered clues. “This smacks of conspiracy.” She folded her arms and refused to look into that mirror, or Mitch’s arresting eyes, again.
Her resolve lasted an entire eighth of a mile.
At the next red light, she caught Mitch studying her through the rearview mirror. He said nothing at first, then, “Feels almost like we’re having a family spat here.”
“Yeah. Hatfield and McCoy caliber,” she quipped. Especially if he joined forces with Grandpa and tried to talk her back into nursing. Not happening. Even if Lem put him up to it. And no one softened her like Grandpa could.
He’d essentially raised her every summer since her tenth birthday after her parents died. She spent the rest of the year changing homes with the seasons, depending on which relative had room. Lauren’s mom was Lem’s only daughter. Grieving over her had bonded the two like suture glue.
Now it seemed as if Mitch’s bond with Grandpa was stronger.
She shifted in her seat to put some distance between herself and Mitch. His overwhelming presence in the truck’s cab made her feel snuggled next to a nuclear reactor with a compromised cooling system. Lem stretched, scooting her closer to Mitch again. She shot Lem a that-did-not-help look.
Which he ignored with fervor.
The whistling old scamp clearly had matchmaking in mind, which meant he was out of his mind. Lauren would no more date a doctor than Grandpa would give up his greasy biscuits and gravy.
These last twenty minutes were going to be one long ride.
Despite her pulse pounding, the ribbon-cutting was not something she could bring herself to joyfully anticipate. Hopefully her unruly heart rate had nothing to do with notions of romance.
* * *
Mitch never thought this day would come. Or end.
But here he was, standing at the door of a dream. He poised an outrageously large pair of scissors over the ribbon. “They’re heavier than my military rifle.”
Laughter erupted from the crowd. Bulb lights flashed and popped from every angle. Townspeople and reporters snapped images of Eagle Point Trauma Center’s grand opening.
Surgery tech Kate Dalton leaned over the microphone. “You’d think our top trauma surgeon would slice right the first time,” she teased in reference to this being Mitch’s second attempt.
“Cut me some slack. These are duller than your bedtime stories.” Actually Kate’s stories coaxed countless soldiers to sleep, though she claimed she bored them into oblivion instead.
“Come on, Mitch! Those scissors can’t be older’n me,” Lem heckled good-heartedly from the crowd.
Laughing, Mitch sought out his friend