Lukas Bower could find his way around an unfamiliar hospital or a forest trail almost by instinct. Let him loose in a strange town, however, and he would be lost the moment he stepped out the door. By the time he entered the front door of the cantina—little more than a house with a small unlit sign in the front yard—where he was supposed to meet the others Wednesday night, the tiny place was nearly empty and a Hispanic waiter was clearing the tables. It still smelled wonderful, full of smoky spices and warmth.

      Lauren waved at him from the far back left corner, where two smaller tables had been pushed together for a larger group. Much larger. Only Lauren was left.

      “You’re late,” she called out, still waving for him to join her.

      Lukas stood, staring at her in dismay. He had no desire to be rude, but he also had no desire to have dinner alone with a nurse who worked with him. Was he that late? Where were the others? Still, how could he turn around and walk out now?

      He stepped hesitantly toward the back. “Sorry. I had to finish my charts; then I had to find this place. That turned out to be more of a challenge than I’d expected.” He glanced at his watch. It was eight-thirty and the shift had ended at seven. Okay, so he was pretty late. “How long have you been waiting?”

      “It’s only been about twenty minutes since the last person left. Carol and Rita had to get home to their hubbies as soon as they ate. Connie and Ron, the ambulance team on duty tonight, got a call. Beverly and Buck had a lion to feed, and I know for a fact that Beverly took that Mustang by the car wash to clean it out.” Lauren indicated the cluttered stack of plates that had not yet been cleared. “Sorry, you’re stuck with just me.” She signaled the waiter and kicked out a chair across the table from her. She had released her long, blond hair from its rubber band, and wispy tendrils framed a face devoid of makeup. “I ordered for you, and they’ve been keeping it warm in back.”

      Lukas wished she hadn’t done that. “Could they make it to go? I’ll just take it with me. There’s no reason for you to have to sit—”

      “Sorry, too late.” She gestured toward the waiter, who carried out a sizzling platter of chicken, onion and peppers, and a steamer with hot flour tortillas. “I overheard you telling one of the patients today how much you loved authentic chicken fajitas, so I took the liberty of ordering them for you. Come on, sit down. They won’t taste nearly as good cold.”

      This had been a stupid idea. Why had he agreed to come? But Lukas was hungry, and that hunger overrode his sense of caution. And this wasn’t a date. He pushed the chair back in that she had kicked out for him, and instead he took the chair next to it, in spite of the mess of cluttered dishes he had to move aside. He would not get lured into an intimate dinner for two, or even the appearance of one.

      If Lauren took offense at his small act of rebellion, her expression hid it well. She leaned back and rested her feet on the rail of the chair he had discarded. “Dig in, Doc. I know you’re hungry. I don’t think you’ve eaten anything since lunch, have you?”

      “Breakfast, actually. Late breakfast.” He bent his head in a short, silent blessing, then looked up to find Lauren nodding with approval. Big deal. The nurse in KC had pretended to approve of his faith, too, at first, until it got in the way of other things she wanted.

      “Found a church yet?” Lauren asked, watching Lukas overstuff his first tortilla.

      “Not yet. I haven’t had a chance.” He took a large bite, the force of which pushed half the meat and veggies back onto the plate from the wrap. The smoky heat so filled his mouth and senses that for a few seconds he didn’t realize Lauren had resumed talking.

      “…Covenant Baptist, just about four blocks from where you live.”

      Lukas shot her a wary glance as he chewed and swallowed. “You already know where I live?” He’d just been there a few days.

      “Oh, don’t worry, I’m not checking up on you. The real estate agent who sold you the place is a friend of mine,” she explained as he took another bite and washed it down with water. “You don’t grow up in a small town like Knolls without getting to know most of the other natives. Everyone’s talking about the new full-time E.R. doc, and they probably all know where you live.”

      Lukas gulped another bite without comment. He, too, was from a small town, and because of that he knew he probably wouldn’t be accepted here as one of them for twenty years.

      “So do you think you’ll come?” she asked.

      He stopped chewing and looked at her.

      “To church Sunday.”

      “I’ll probably go somewhere.” He built another fajita, this time with less filling, while Lauren chatted on about the hospital.

      He learned quite a few interesting facts about his new place of employment, such as the doubled volume of patients seen through the emergency department since Mrs. Estelle Pinkley took over as administrator five years ago. The lady had, according to Lauren, brought the hospital out of the computerless dark ages and out of debt for the first time in over a decade.

      “But you’d better watch yourself,” Lauren warned as Lukas finished his last bite of chicken. “The E.R. director doesn’t want a full-time physician working here.”

      “Why not?”

      She shrugged. “With Dr. George, who knows? He fought Mrs. Pinkley about the computers, too. He’s about ready to retire, and he doesn’t like change.”

      Lukas glanced around to find the waiter flipping around the Closed side of the sign in the front window. “Looks like we should be leaving. Will they give us a ticket at the cash register?”

      “Don’t worry, I paid it already.”

      Lukas reached into his pocket and pulled out a ten-dollar bill. He smiled as kindly as he knew how and placed the money on the table in front of her. He knew as he left that he was behaving like a jerk. It bothered him. Lauren seemed like a good, caring person, and she was probably just being kindhearted to a newcomer. Still, he wasn’t going to take any chances.

       Chapter Four

       T hursday morning Lukas arrived at work later than usual, dripping with dew from the light rain outside. He could have kicked himself for oversleeping. The shift change would just have to be with the emergency department director, Dr. Jarvis George.

      “Morning, Judy. Any patients waiting?” Lukas asked as he checked his mail cubicle.

      “Good morning, Dr. Bower.” The E.R. secretary for today’s shift turned from her computer and smiled at him. “Dr. George is in the laceration room sewing a nursing-home patient