Читать книгу: «The Doctor Next Door»

“You’ve come back. It’s about time, don’t you think?”

“About time?” Dr. Brett Elliot hadn’t expected his hometown to stage a welcome parade to celebrate his return. But he also hadn’t expected to be accosted by a beautiful woman he’d never met. “Ms.—”

“You don’t know who I am?”

“You’re not…?”

Something about her amber eyes triggered recognition. He brushed back her auburn curls, exposing a thin scar. She’d fallen from a tree when she was five, and he’d been convinced at ten he was grown up enough to take care of her. That was when he’d decided to become a doctor.

“Rebecca. Little Rebecca, all grown up.”

“People do, you know. Did you think nothing in Bedford Creek would change while you were gone, that we were all just waiting for your return?”

Rebecca had been a quiet little tomboy, all skinny legs and sharp elbows. The woman who stood in front of him now was beautiful.

“I guess things have changed,” Brett said, lifting an eyebrow.

MARTA PERRY

began writing children’s stories for Sunday school take-home papers when she was a church education director. From that beginning she branched into writing magazine fiction and then book-length fiction. She’s grateful for the opportunity to write the books of her heart for Steeple Hill.

Marta lives in rural Pennsylvania with her husband of thirty-eight years. They have three grown children scattered around the globe whom they enjoy visiting. In addition to writing and travel, Marta loves hearing from readers and responding to their letters. You can write to her at Steeple Hill Books, 300 East 42nd St., New York, NY 10017.

The Doctor Next Door
Marta Perry

www.millsandboon.co.uk

MILLS & BOON

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For we are God’s workmanship,

created in Christ Jesus to do good works,

which God prepared in advance for us to do.

—Ephesians 2:10

This book is dedicated to the dear writing friends

and critique partners who kept me going all these

years: Barbara, Andi, Laurie, Dave and Pam.

And, as always, to Brian.

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Epilogue

Letter to Reader

Chapter One

“You’ve come back.”

The young woman’s golden-brown eyes filled with a mix of shock and some other emotion Brett couldn’t identify.

She grabbed his arm, pulling him out of the flow of people coming through the front door of the gracious Victorian home. “It’s about time, don’t you think?”

“About time?” Dr. Brett Elliot hadn’t expected his hometown to stage a welcome parade to celebrate his return. But he also hadn’t expected to be accosted at his best friend’s engagement party by a beautiful woman he’d never seen before.

There’d been no mistaking the sarcasm in her voice. “The party started at eight, didn’t it?” He detached his arm from her grip. People clustered in the adjoining rooms, leaving the wide center hallway quiet.

“The party? Yes.” She glanced toward the crowded living room of the rambling old house, where the party obviously centered. Auburn hair curled around her shoulders; creamy skin glowed against the soft coral of her dress.

No, if he’d known this woman before, he’d certainly remember.

“Well, then, I’m right on time.” He probably wouldn’t have ventured out at all on his first night back in Bedford Creek if he weren’t one of Mitch’s groomsmen. He could hardly avoid the party given for Mitch and Anne, especially since it was at the Forrester place, right next door to his parents’ empty house. Apparently one of the Forrester sisters was a member of the wedding party.

He couldn’t pretend he hadn’t gotten home for it. Someone would notice his car or the light in the window. That was one of the drawbacks he remembered of life in a small town. Someone noticed everything.

So he had decided to make a brief appearance, smile at everyone and beat a quick retreat before too many questions were asked.

Nothing in that scenario included having a stranger look at him with such disapproval. He pushed down his annoyance and tried a smile. “You think I should have come early, Ms.—”

Her eyebrows went up in astonishment. “You don’t know who I am?”

He riffled quickly through his mental file of high school friends. Trouble was, he hadn’t come back to Pennsylvania often during college and medical school on the West Coast. He was much closer since he’d taken the residency at a Philadelphia hospital, but also much busier. And with his parents spending most of the year in Florida, there’d been little to bring him back. People had a way of changing when you didn’t see them for years at a time.

“Well, let’s see. You must be someone I went to school with, right?”

A dimple showed at the corner of her mouth, dissipating her frown. “In a way.”

The smile encouraged him. She couldn’t be that annoyed with him, even if he’d gotten the time wrong. Something about her made him think of Angela Forrester, his high school sweetheart. One of Angela’s friends, maybe?

“Were you a cheerleader, like Angela?”

“No.” Her amber eyes seemed to enjoy a secret laugh at his expense.

“You’re not…”

Something about her eyes triggered recognition. He brushed the auburn curls back from her cheek, exposing the hairline-thin white scar.

She’d fallen from the willow tree in the backyard when she was five. He’d been the first person there, and he’d held the hem of his T-shirt over the cut, convinced that at ten he was grown up enough to take care of her. That might have been the moment he’d decided to become a doctor.

“Rebecca.” Now that he realized, of course, it could be no one else. “Little Rebecca, all grown up.”

She drew back casually from his touch. “People do, you know.”

He shook his head. “It’s impossible. You used to look like Orphan Annie, all frizzy red hair and big eyes.”

Now she was beautiful. The idea stunned him. How could Angela’s pesky kid sister look like this?

“Gee, thanks. I think.”

“I didn’t mean…” He was thrown ridiculously off balance. Of course Rebecca had grown up. She couldn’t stay little forever.

“You expected me to look like a kid. Did you think nothing in Bedford Creek would change while you were gone, that we were all just waiting for your return? It’s not Brigadoon, you know.”

“Isn’t it?” They’d done “Brigadoon” for their senior class play. Angela had been gorgeous in a tartan skirt. Somehow Bedford Creek had always had that Brigadoon aura—isolated, hidden by its mountains, remote from his busy urban life.

“Things do change. I grew up. Angela got engaged. You can’t just walk back in and find everything the way you left it.”

The edge in her voice startled him. Rebecca had been a quiet little tomboy, all skinny legs and sharp elbows. She’d tagged after him and Angela, always wanting to be just like them, until it nearly drove Angela crazy.

“I guess things have changed.” He lifted an eyebrow. “Way I remember it, you’d no more have argued with anyone than you’d have flown off the roof.”

She smiled, the flicker of antagonism disappearing, at least for the moment. “I think I did try to fly off the porch once, using Mom’s tablecloth for a cape.”

“So you did. Are you still a tomboy?” Teasing Rebecca felt like old times, and the tension he’d been carrying around for weeks seemed to slide away. “Still falling out of willow trees?”

“Not anymore.” Her chin lifted, perhaps with pride. “I’m a physician’s assistant now. I work with Dr. Overton at the clinic.”

The mention of his old mentor’s name jolted something inside him. He had to see Clifford Overton soon, but he already dreaded the encounter. Doc would have to be told what had happened to Brett’s fellowship. And Doc would have expectations of his own about Brett’s future.

“How is Doc?”

A troubled look crossed her face, dimming the sparkle of her eyes. “Getting old.” She shook her head, as if shaking away something she didn’t want to think about. “He’ll be excited to see you. You haven’t been in touch enough.” She pinned him down with a straightforward look he remembered from the little girl she’d been. “You are here to stay, aren’t you?”

Something tightened painfully inside him. Stay? Was that the only choice left to him? He rejected that quickly. With the end of his residency he’d lost his student apartment, so coming to Bedford Creek was the logical thing to do. But as soon as he found a new fellowship, he’d be gone.

When he didn’t answer, Rebecca’s intent gaze seemed to bore into his very soul. “That is why you’ve come back, isn’t it? To take over the clinic from Doc, the way he’s always planned?”

“Not exactly.”

Coming to the Forresters had been a mistake. He should have waited to read about the party on the social page of The Chronicle. What gave Rebecca the right to put him on the spot?

“Then why are you in town?” The edge was back in her voice.

For an instant he wanted to spill the whole story and get it off his chest. The thought horrified him. Nobody needed to know Brett Elliot, M.D., once the pride of Bedford Creek High School, had sacrificed the prestigious fellowship his mother had probably bragged about in every letter to her friends.

“Just on a break.” He took a step back. It was time little Rebecca stopped interrogating him—time he congratulated Mitch and Anne and then got out of here.

“A break?” She stared at him in disbelief. “What do you mean, ‘a break’? Doc’s been waiting for you to come back.”

He fought down a wave of anger. “That’s between Doc and me.”

She didn’t seem to agree. “You have an obligation here, remember? A debt to pay.”

Her challenge stung, reminding him of too much he wasn’t ready to face yet. “My debts don’t concern you, Rebecca.”

“Everything about the clinic concerns me.” She shot the words back at him. They were suddenly on opposite sides of a chasm, glaring at each other.

“Look, if you think…” The rest of that sentence vanished when someone bolted through the archway from the living room and flung herself into his arms.

Memories flooded him. The same perfume, the same clinging hands, the same soft voice chattering a mile a minute. Angela.

“Brett! I thought I heard your voice, but I didn’t believe it. I’m so glad to see you, I just can’t believe you’re here.” She threw her arms around his neck, half choking him.

He tried to disentangle himself, but Angela’s words had pierced the din in the living room. In a moment he was surrounded.

He wasn’t going to escape the party in the foreseeable future. And over Angela’s head he saw Rebecca waiting, apparently ready to demand the answers he didn’t intend to give.

Tension tightened Rebecca’s nerves as she took a step back from the flurry of greetings. The quarrel that had flared up between her and Brett had taken her completely by surprise, and she needed a moment to think.

A cold hand clutched her heart. Brett couldn’t be backing out of his agreement. He couldn’t. She longed to push her sister out of the way, grab Brett’s arm and demand that he explain himself.

Lord, what’s happening here? We’ve waited so long for Brett to come back. You know how much Doc needs him, how much this town needs him. Doesn’t he know that?

The middle of Mitch and Anne’s party was no place for a confrontation. Still, she felt the rush of unasked questions pressing on her lips as if determined to get out.

She took a deep breath and pasted a smile on her face. She’d known the instant Brett walked in that his presence meant trouble. She’d seen him and felt as if someone had punched her right in the heart.

She pushed the thought away. Her long-ago feelings for Brett had been childish adoration, that was all. Not love. She’d been a kid. She hadn’t known what love was.

Mitch Donovan had reached Brett, grabbing his hand to shake it, and Brett’s face lit with pleasure at the sight of his old friend. Rebecca took the opportunity to get a good look at Brett, one uncolored by shock at seeing him after all these years.

Some things hadn’t changed. His hair, the color of antique gold, still fell, unruly, over his broad forehead. Green-as-glass eyes warmed as he hugged Anne Morden, Mitch’s fiancée. He was taller and broader than she remembered—his shoulders filled out the dark wool blazer he wore—and his skin was still tanned, even though it was fall.

He still had that cleft chin, of course, and his smile was the one that had devastated the girls of Bedford Creek High. It had probably devastated quite a few women since, too.

Everyone wanted to talk to Brett, the local boy who’d made good. People were proud tiny Bedford Creek High had produced a graduate who’d gone to one of the best medical schools in the country, and Brett’s mother had never let an opportunity pass to tell people how well he’d been doing.

Rebecca could slip away, unnoticed, out of the range of that smile and the memories it evoked.

She crossed the center hall to the dining room, trying to concentrate on the buffet. The cherry table had all its leaves in to accommodate the food her mother had insisted on. The moment she’d learned Rebecca was going to be Anne’s bridesmaid, she’d begun planning the party, maybe considering it a trial run for the parties that would accompany Angela’s wedding next spring.

Rebecca checked the platters, listening to the buzz of conversation, and frowned a little. Was she the only one who noticed a faint shadow in Brett’s eyes when the subject of his Philadelphia residency came up? Maybe so. Or maybe she was imagining things in the flow of chatter and good humor and congratulations.

She’d thought at the time he took the residency that he should have come home instead. After all, Doc had helped Brett’s family pay for his medical-school education when they’d had a struggle to meet tuition payments. He’d helped other young people, too, but Brett was different. He’d always expected that one day Brett would take over his practice. They’d planned it together, and the only reason Rebecca knew was because she worked so closely with Doc.

But the years had slipped away. Whenever she brought it up, Doc was philosophical. Let Brett take the residency, he’d said. It would make him a better doctor when he did come back.

Well, now he was home, but apparently not to stay. Her throat tightened. She hadn’t realized how much she’d been counting on his return until she saw him. How much longer could they continue at the clinic if he didn’t take over? The secret Doc insisted she keep weighed on her heart. If only she could share it with Brett—

“There you are.” Brett touched her arm, and the cake platter tilted in her grasp. He grabbed it, setting it down. “Anne sent me over to tell you to relax and enjoy the party. There’s plenty of food here. More fat and calories than this bunch should have in a month.”

She managed a smile. Keep it light. You can’t confront him here, so keep it light. “You’re back in Bedford Creek, remember? A party isn’t a success unless the hostess stuffs everyone.”

“Nobody serves crudités and yogurt dip?”

“Not unless they’re serving fudge and cookies with it.”

This was better, joking back and forth with Brett as if it were the old days, burying her worries about the clinic, about Doc, about the future. And ignoring the tingle of awareness his closeness brought. She had to keep things on this level for the moment.

She tried unobtrusively to move a step farther away. Ignoring his warmth and strength would be easier if he weren’t quite so close to her, close enough to smell a faint trace of spicy aftershave, close enough to see the gold flecks in his green eyes.

“Anne tells me you’re a bridesmaid in the wedding next month.”

She nodded. It was safe to talk about Anne. “We’ve gotten to be good friends since she moved here. She’s really someone special.” The secret of Emilie’s birth parents had brought Anne to Bedford Creek, but it was the love she’d found with Mitch that made her stay.

She looked at Anne, bending to disentangle Emilie’s tiny fingers from the bow of a present. She admired Anne’s cool urban elegance without wanting to be like her.

He followed the direction of her gaze. “They are happy, aren’t they?” He almost sounded as if he needed assurance.

“Of course.” Her surprise showed in her voice. “They’re perfect for each other. Don’t you think so?”

He glanced down at her. “Guess I never thought Mitch would settle down. But once he met the right woman, it was all over for him.”

She couldn’t help but smile. “You make it sound like a prison sentence. Is that how you see marriage?”

“It is meant to be permanent.”

He looked back toward the other room, and she realized he was watching Alex Caine, the third member of the trio of friends. Alex, his lean face serious as always, stood back a little, leaning on the cane he sometimes had to use.

“Alex is doing better.” She answered the question he didn’t ask. Alex had barely survived a plane crash the year before, suffering a head injury that eventually healed and a shattered knee that still pained him. It was small wonder his friends worried about him.

Brett nodded. “Alex is tough—nobody knows that better than I do. He’ll be fine.” He focused on her. “So how come I haven’t heard about an engagement party for you? Guys must be standing in line.”

“In Bedford Creek?” She lifted her brows. “There aren’t enough eligible single guys to form a line.”

“Don’t give me that. You ought to be wearing a ring, too.”

She shook her head. “Always a bridesmaid, never a bride. That’s the way I like it, although I’ll never convince my mother. She’s eternally hopeful of getting both her daughters married off.”

“She must—” Brett interrupted himself to look down. “Did you know there was someone under the table?”

She bent, lifting the hem of the linen tablecloth. “Come out, Kristie. Come on, right now.”

A small, sticky hand closed around hers, and her niece slid out from under the table. Chocolate smeared Kristie’s hands and mouth.

“Who’s this?” Brett knelt beside the pajama-clad figure. “I haven’t met you before, have I?”

Finger in her mouth, five-year-old Kristie had an attack of shyness. She leaned against Rebecca’s skirt, shaking her head.

Brett looked up, a question in his eyes.

“Kristie is Quinn’s daughter.” It was useless to hope he wouldn’t ask more questions. He and Quinn were the same age, and they’d been childhood friends. “Honey, this is Brett. He’s an old friend.”

“I don’t think I knew your brother had come back home.” Brett stood. “My mother’s intelligence-gathering skills must be getting rusty.”

“He’s not. Home, that is.” Her heart ached at the thought of her brother’s battle with grief over his wife’s death six months earlier. “He’s finishing up a job. Kristie is staying with us until he comes back.”

Brett seemed to process very quickly all the things she didn’t say. He smiled down at Kristie. “Sounds like you’re a lucky girl, staying with your grandma and aunts. Is there still a tree house in the willow out back?”

Kristie nodded. “Aunt Rebecca and me painted it. It’s yellow now.”

“I’d like to see that sometime. Do you let boys in?”

That earned a shy smile. “You’re not a boy.”

“I’m not?” He gave her a shocked look.

“You’re a man!” She erupted in giggles, and he joined her.

Brett had made another conquest, not surprisingly. He always had been able to charm the birds from the trees. And there was genuine kindness behind his smile. Small wonder even shy Kristie responded to it, just as Rebecca had.

She must have been about her niece’s age when she’d solemnly asked Brett if he’d marry her when she grew up. They’d been in the tree house, and she could still smell the lilacs that had been blooming in the garden.

Brett had been kind; he was always kind. He’d taken both her hands in his and assured her she’d meet someone she’d love lots more than him. He was going to be a doctor, he’d told her. He promised he’d come back and take care of all of them.

She’d tried to blink tears away, knowing a rejection when she heard it, even at five. She’d nodded, as if accepting his words, but her heart had known she loved him.

Now, she could only hope Brett had forgotten that embarrassing incident.

“Come on.” She took Kristie’s hand. “Time we got you back to bed.”

At least that would get her out of Brett’s company for a few minutes. She wouldn’t have to pretend nothing was wrong, and she wouldn’t have to pretend she wasn’t affected by seeing him again.

Kristie’s curly red head burrowed against her skirt. “I’m tired, Auntie Rebecca. Carry me.”

Brett scooped her up before Rebecca could move. “I’ll take her.”

“Wait, let me wipe off the chocolate.” She snatched a napkin. “You don’t need to do that. You should stay here and visit with people.”

She hoped there wasn’t a desperate edge in her voice. The last thing she wanted right now was to be alone with him.

He ignored her. “Here we go.” He hoisted Kristie, hands now clean, to his shoulder. “Hold on tight.” He started for the archway, bouncing her so that she giggled and clutched his hair.

Managing a meaningless smile for anyone who might be watching, Rebecca followed.

They trooped up the wide staircase. At the top, she nodded toward the door next to hers. “This is Kristie’s room.”

“Duck your head, Kristie.” He stooped under the door frame, earning another giggle, and plopped Kristie on the white single bed with its bright quilt. “Ready for bed.”

“Wound up, you mean.” Rebecca pulled back the quilt. “In you go, and say your prayers. It’s way past bedtime, and you have school tomorrow, remember?”

Kristie pouted. “Don’t want to go to bed. Don’t want to go to school.” She bounced. “I want to stay at the party.”

Rebecca could read the warning signs of a disturbed night. “Kristie…”

Brett sat down on the edge of the bed. “You’re not going to tell me this girl goes to school, are you? What are you…fifth grade? Sixth?”

Kristie giggled, not seeming to notice that he was putting her down on the pillow, tucking the quilt around her. “I’m in kindergarten.”

“Wow!” He managed a suitable look of surprise as he clicked off the bedside lamp, leaving the room bathed in the soft glow of the night-light. “So how do you like kindergarten?”

“Okay, I guess.” She looked down. “Sometimes Jeffy takes my crayons. And he says I’m a…a carrottop.” She said the word as if it were monstrous.

Rebecca’s throat tightened. She’d known something was wrong at school, but Kristie had been stubbornly uncommunicative about it. Now she’d blurted it out to Brett on the basis of a five-minute acquaintanceship.

“Do you know what a carrottop is?” Brett smoothed her red curls.

She nodded solemnly. “Grandma had some carrots in her garden.”

Brett lifted a springy strand of red. “I’ll bet she did, but Jeffy was talking about your hair. Because he thinks it’s the color of a carrot.” He glanced up at Rebecca, smiling. “Aunt Rebecca had hair this color when she was your age, and I always thought it was the prettiest hair color in the world. Maybe Jeffy thinks so, too.”

Rebecca’s heart gave a ridiculous thump. He was talking nonsense to soothe Kristie, of course. She couldn’t let it affect her. Couldn’t let it bring back sharp, evocative images of a much younger Brett. He wasn’t that person anymore. And she wasn’t that little girl.

“But he teases me.”

“I’ll tell you a secret.” Brett leaned close to the child and lowered his voice to a whisper. “Boys only tease girls they like.” He looked up at her again, eyes laughing. “Isn’t that right, Aunt Rebecca?”

She kept smiling by sheer effort of will, heart thumping. “That’s right.”

She wasn’t the child who’d idolized him any longer. But she’d have to do something about the ridiculous way her heart turned over every time he smiled at her.

Chapter Two

Memories assailed Brett as he poured a mug of coffee in the sunny kitchen of his parents’ house the next morning. Memories of himself and Angela, back when she’d been the most important person in his world. He had to smile now at that infatuation. Angela didn’t seem to have grown up at all since then. It was Rebecca whose maturity astounded him.

Mitch and Alex hadn’t changed, though.

He smiled, thinking of them, but a shadow tinged his mind. He could keep his problems a secret from most people, but he couldn’t withhold them from Alex and Mitch.

Still, their support was one thing he knew he could always count on, no matter what. The three of them had faced death together, once upon a time. That had created a bond nothing could break.

His mind drifted back to the party the night before. Rebecca had been right— Mitch and Anne really were meant for each other. The fact that they’d be starting married life with a ready-made family of her adopted baby and his foster son just seemed to add to their glow.

Alex was another story. Brett frowned down at his cup. Alex might be able to hide his pain from other people, but not from him. He’d give anything for a look at Alex’s medical charts. He owed Alex—owed him a lot. If there was a way he could make up for the past, he’d like to find it.

He put down the coffee. Somehow everything—every concern, every conversation, even every thought, led him straight to the clinic. Rebecca was probably wondering why he wasn’t there already, and she wouldn’t hesitate to tell him so. If he’d known pesky little Rebecca would turn into such a beautiful, determined young woman, maybe he’d have stayed in touch.

Or maybe he’d have avoided her like the plague.

He didn’t owe Rebecca an explanation, regardless of whether she agreed. But he certainly owed one to Doc, easy or not—and it was time he paid him a visit.

He drove out to the corner, then turned uphill. In Bedford Creek you were always going either up the mountain or down toward the river. There wasn’t anything between. The town was wedged tightly into the narrow valley, with mountain ridges hemming it in.

The new tourist brochures his mother had sent him described Bedford Creek and its mountains as the Switzerland of Pennsylvania. People had obviously tried to live up to that billing, decking houses with colorful shutters and window boxes. Now, the boxes overflowed with marigolds and mums.

Apparently the publicity campaign was working. Strangers slinging cameras dotted the sidewalks, and a line waited to board the old-fashioned steam train for a jaunt through the mountains to see the autumn foliage. In another week or two the woods would be in full color, and the place jammed.

Doc Overton’s clinic sat at the top of the hill, its faded red brick looking just the same as it always had. Brett’s first glimpse of the familiar white clapboard sign swamped him in a wave of nostalgia. He pulled into the gravel lot and got out of the car slowly.

What had led to that promise he’d once made Rebecca about becoming a doctor? One of those early visits, when Doc thumped him and patted his head and told him he was fine? Or when Doc had responded to the interest he’d shown in some procedure, taking the time to explain it to him? Whenever it had been, Doc Overton had certainly been part of it.

It had been too long since he’d been back, too long since he’d let Doc know how much he appreciated his mentoring. That had to be a part of the talk they needed to have. He took the two steps to the porch and opened the door.

New wallpaper decked a waiting room that was far more crowded than he ever remembered it being. It looked as if he’d have to postpone their conversation. Clearly Doc wouldn’t have time for a talk this morning—not with all these patients waiting.

He didn’t intend to rush this conversation. Telling Doc the changes he wanted to make to the future they had once planned wouldn’t be easy.

Maybe the best course was to see Doc and arrange a time when they could be alone, uninterrupted. He exchanged greetings with people he knew as he edged his way to the desk.

He nodded to the receptionist, wondering if she was someone he should remember. “I’m Dr. Elliot. I’d like a word with Dr. Overton when he has a moment.”

“Brett.” Rebecca appeared from behind the rows of files, looking startled. “I didn’t expect to see you so soon.”

He lifted an eyebrow. “Funny. I got the impression I’d better show my face around here pretty quickly or someone might get after me. Can’t imagine why I thought that.”

A warm flush brightened her peaches-and-cream complexion. “I can’t either.” She gestured toward the hallway. “Come on back.”

The treatment area had changed even more than the waiting room. Cream paint unified it, and a modern counter had replaced the old rolltop desk where Doc had once kept a jumble of papers. Charts were neatly filed, and an up-to-date computer system ruled the countertop.

He stopped, assessing the changes, then turned to Rebecca. She’d changed, too. Her bronze hair was tied back from her face, and a matching bronze name pin adorned her neat uniform. Everything about her spoke of efficiency and professionalism. How strange to see little Rebecca so grown-up and businesslike.

“Were you responsible for all this?” He gestured toward the changes, knowing old Doc wouldn’t have modernized a thing if someone hadn’t pushed him into it.

She looked startled. “I guess I did suggest we were due for some up-to-date touches.”

“You mean you nagged him until it was easier to say yes.” He smiled at her. “Don’t fib to me, Rebecca. I know both of you too well.”

“Something like that.” She smiled back, but there was a shadow behind it. She was probably still thinking about their unfinished conversation the night before—

“There you are.”

The familiar voice sounded behind Brett, and he swung around.

“About time you were getting back here to see us.”

“Hasn’t been that long, has it?” He gripped Doc’s hand, emotion flooding him. It had been too long. Rebecca had been right. Doc Overton was getting old.

The hair he remembered as iron gray was white now, and Doc’s shoulders stooped, as if he’d spent too many years carrying all the medical burdens of the town. The lines in his face formed a road map of wisdom and caring.

“Come here, boy.” Not content with a handshake, Doc pulled him close for a quick hug, then pounded his shoulder. “Good to see you. How are they treating you at that big city hospital?”

There was the question he didn’t want to answer, and it was the first one out of Doc’s mouth, of course.

“Things are going okay.” He managed a smile. “It was tough getting used to Philly after all those years in California.”

“Not enough beaches, huh?” Those wise old eyes surveyed him. “If you want to succeed in this business, you have to make some sacrifices.”

“Like having any time for yourself,” Rebecca said. She held out a chart. “I’m sorry to interrupt the reunion, but you’re running about an hour behind already.”

“Doc always runs an hour behind,” Brett said. That was probably because Doc had never heard the notion that the physician should spend only ten of his precious minutes with any single patient. And if he heard it, he’d dismiss it. He knew his patients too well to rush anyone out of the office. When you were closeted with Doc Overton, you felt as if you were the most important person in the world to him. “Don’t people still set their clocks by him?”

Rebecca smiled, but it was more an automatic response than an agreement. “I’m afraid people are a bit more impatient than they used to be.”

Doc shrugged, lifting his hands. “What can I do? This young woman runs the place, and she runs me, too. We’ll have to get together later.”

“How about supper tonight? We can catch up.” And talk about the future.

Doc nodded. “Sounds good, if I get out of here at a decent hour. I’ll call you.”

“I’ll see you later, then.” He should be ashamed at the relief he felt over putting off the difficult conversation.

“Why don’t you stay and help out?” Rebecca’s voice stopped him before he took a step toward the door. “You’re licensed in Pennsylvania, aren’t you? You could see some of Doc’s overflow and let him get through by lunchtime for once.”

“You think people really want to consult a doctor they knew when he was a kid?” His reluctance surprised him. Maybe it was the thought of treating people he knew so well—people who’d watched him grow up.

“Don’t worry about it.” Rebecca gave him a challenging look. “They accept me as a professional, believe it or not. They’ll listen to you.”

His gaze clashed with hers. She’d made her attitude clear last night, even though they hadn’t had a chance to talk about it again. She thought it was time he took over for Doc, and she probably couldn’t imagine there might be something better than a one-doctor practice, either for the town or for him.

“Good idea.” Doc nodded. “Let folks see a real city doctor for once.”

Brett forced a smile. He wasn’t about to let little Rebecca push him into saying anything to Doc about his plans in front of her, if that was in her mind. But he could hardly walk away with Doc looking at him so expectantly.

“Sure. I’ll be glad to see some patients.”

He caught the satisfied look on Rebecca’s face, and his jaw tightened. Rebecca might have won this round, but if she thought she could manipulate him into doing what she wanted, she’d better think again.

Was her plan going to work? The question kept revolving in Rebecca’s mind while she found a lab coat for Brett, showed him the examining rooms, led him through her system.

She hadn’t been able to sleep after the party, her mind constantly returning to Brett. What had he meant when he’d said he was just home on a break? Didn’t he realize how much Doc needed him? How much all of Bedford Creek needed him?

It had taken her longer than it should have to realize she needed to pray about it. Even then, she’d found herself wrestling with the situation, trying fruitlessly to see an immediate solution.

Finally, exhausted, she’d left it in the Lord’s hands and gone to sleep. And when she woke, the answer seemed so clear.

Brett wouldn’t listen to her, and he certainly wouldn’t let her tell him what to do. But if she showed him how desperately Doc needed him, he’d do the right thing, wouldn’t he?

Doubt gripped her. The idealistic boy she’d known would have. She wasn’t so sure about the sophisticated stranger he’d become.

Well, doing something was better than doing nothing. The opportunity to show Brett how much he was needed had come. She had to take advantage of it.

“If you’re all set, I’ll just see which of the patients would be willing to switch to you.”

Brett raised an eyebrow. “Don’t you mean, would agree to be fobbed off on the new guy?”

It was going to be tough to keep a professional distance, she thought, if he persisted in looking at her with that devastating smile. “I’m sure there won’t be a problem. I’ll just try to keep everyone happy.” She shuffled rapidly through the charts.

“Is that your main objective in life?”

The question caught her by surprise. “What do you mean?”

He leaned against the counter next to her. “Keeping everyone happy. You seem to do a lot of that.” He gestured at the renovated office. “You’re certainly keeping Doc happy. And making a difference here. Is that why you chose a medical career?”

“I…” She bit back the response that sprang to her lips, shocked at her impulse to tell him he was responsible for that decision. That was something Brett didn’t need to know about her. “I guess, in a way. Doc needs help, and it’s not easy to find qualified medical personnel who want to come to a small town and work in a one-doctor clinic.”

“So you felt it was your duty?”

He really seemed to want to understand. “It wasn’t just that. My family’s here, and after Dad died, they needed me.”

The familiar picture formed in her mind. Her father, his face lined and tired, grasping her hand in his. You’re the responsible one, Rebecca. You’ll have to take care of them.

Brett nodded, but she could see the question still in his eyes.

“There are plenty of opportunities for physician’s assistants these days,” he said. “You could go almost anywhere.”

“I’m happy here.” Why did he assume that just because he couldn’t wait to leave Bedford Creek, other people felt that way? “Not everyone’s destined for the medical fast track.”

He gave her a wary look. “Is that aimed at me, by any chance?”

She wouldn’t get anywhere by antagonizing him. “No, of course not.” She picked up a chart. “Are you ready for the first patient?”

His gaze probed for a moment, as if he tried to see into her thoughts.

Finally he nodded. “Bring them on. I’m ready.”

She put Minna Dawson’s chart in Brett’s stack and showed him to an exam room. Chronic indigestion—and Minna was anxious to get back to the shop. She’d agree to see Brett if that meant moving her appointment up.

Doc fell further behind with every patient; everyone knew that. But everyone didn’t know how tired he was. They didn’t see the little lapses she’d been vigilant at catching and correcting.

Tension knotted her stomach. Doc had to have help, and soon. If only Doc would be honest about how much he needed Brett.

As she took histories for the other patients, did preliminary work-ups, and moved smoothly through the morning’s routine, her brief conversation with Brett played over in her mind.

She’d have to be careful. Brett wouldn’t respond to her trying to make him feel guilty. She knew that instinctively. Just as he seemed to know too much about her instinctively.

If he saw through her so easily, he’d figure out what she intended before she’d even started. She couldn’t let that happen.

Somehow Rebecca had to see to it he realized this was where he belonged.

Please, God. Please let this work.

Repeating her prayer silently, she went to see how Brett was doing with Minna.

“I don’t believe it, that’s all.” Minna sat on the edge of the table, clutching the paper gown around her with both hands, a mix of anger and fear on her face. “You’re just making a big mistake!”

The woman’s words rang in Brett’s ears. You’re making a big mistake. Those had actually been the supervising physician’s words when he found Brett following his ethics instead of the hospital rules. Brett had known in that instant that he would have to sacrifice his fellowship for his principles.

Now he was hearing those words again, and by the look on the woman’s face, she didn’t have much trust in her new doctor.

His jaw clenched. Whether she trusted him or not, he had to make her listen.

“Now, Minna, you don’t mean that.” Rebecca’s calm voice cut through the tension in the small room. Just her presence seemed to take the level down miraculously.

“Dr. Brett is a fine doctor,” she went on, “but if you’d rather see Dr. Overton, we can arrange that. I’m afraid there will be a wait, though. He’s so booked up today. It might delay your getting back to the shop.”

The woman’s death grip on her gown relaxed a little. “I can’t have that.” She scowled. “What a mess that girl will make of things if I’m not there, and there are plenty of visitors in town today.”

Obviously Rebecca knew just what tack to take with the woman. Of course she knew the patients well. The Bedford Creek Clinic wasn’t like a city hospital emergency room, where you treated someone and never saw him again.

“Now, Mrs. Dawson, I just want to run a simple test,” he said. “It’ll take no time at all.” He met Rebecca’s gaze over the woman’s head. “EKG, okay?”

He saw the flicker of doubt in her eyes, and it nettled him. Who was the doctor here?

“Right away,” she said, calmly professional whether she doubted his judgment or not.

“Don’t see why I have to do that.” Mrs. Dawson’s lips pressed together. “It’s worse than usual, but it must be my indigestion, see? Doc always gives me a prescription, and that fixes me right up. I don’t need any test.”

“This is like the one we did on your husband last year,” Rebecca soothed. “You remember. It’s just a precaution.”

He seized on the word. “Just a precaution. It’ll only take a few minutes, and then you’ll be out of here. And if you want, we’ll have Dr. Overton take a look at the results, too.”

She nodded slowly. “Guess if Doc looks at it, it’ll be all right.”

He suspected he knew what Rebecca was thinking. That he was being presumptuous, that he was overriding Doc’s opinions. He nodded toward the hall, and Rebecca followed him out.

“You’re thinking it’s her heart?” Her golden-brown eyes were troubled.

He shrugged. “I don’t like the pain she’s having, or the rapid pulse.” He tried a smile. “Could be because I was holding her hand, but I don’t think so.”

She didn’t argue, but he could sense the reservation was still there.

“Well, we’ll know soon enough.”

He stayed out of the way while Rebecca went to get the EKG machine then returned to the exam room. The last thing the patient needed was any white-coat anxiety at the sight of a new doctor. Especially a new doctor she didn’t particularly trust.

He frowned. He was more concerned about Doc’s reaction. The first patient he saw, and she’d put him in the position of contradicting his old mentor. Doc had been treating her for indigestion, not angina.

He shook his head. At least Doc would probably be more forgiving than Dr. Barrett had been when Brett disagreed with him.

“The woman should have been sent to the county hospital.” Dr. Barrett’s tone had been icy. “They handle the indigent cases.”

Brett could have protested that she needed care immediately, but Barrett would have disagreed. He could have said that for the first time in a long while he was doing what God called him to do, but that argument wouldn’t have impressed Barrett. As far as Barrett was concerned, he was God in his little medical world, and no hapless resident should try to challenge him.

So Brett had put himself on the line, insisting the woman be admitted and going over Barrett’s head when he had to. Barrett had given in, but the pay-back had come soon enough. The surgical fellowship he’d been a shoo-in for had disappeared.

“Here it is.” Rebecca came out into the hall with the strip, just as Doc appeared. Obviously she had alerted him, and Brett felt another spurt of annoyance.

Doc reached for the strip. “Let’s have a look.”

His tone was neutral, but Brett’s jaw tightened. He didn’t like being in opposition to Doc, even though he was sure he was doing the only thing possible.

Doc frowned.

Brett’s tension edged up. “How’s it look?”

“The EKG is definitely out of normal range.” Doc pushed his glasses into place on his nose, his hand fumbling with them. “I should have suspected it was more than indigestion before this. If I’d done an EKG last month, it might have shown something then.” He handed Brett the strip. “Mind if I talk to her? It might come better from me. She’ll have to go to the hospital for more tests on her heart.”

He shook his head. “Of course not. She’s your patient. She’ll want to hear it from you.”

He should feel good. He’d been right. But he couldn’t erase the stricken look from Doc’s eyes.

He stayed out of the way while Doc soothed the woman and talked to the husband called in from the waiting room, and Rebecca made efficient arrangements for her transport to the nearest hospital.

“Forty miles away.” He stood next to her as she hung up the phone.

“Forty miles by mountain road.” She grimaced. “It’s okay for Minna, but sometimes…”

She let that thought trail off, but he knew what she meant. Forty miles might as well be four hundred, in some cases. Bedford Creek should have a better choice than one overworked doctor or a forty-mile drive.

“Now, you’re going to be fine.” Doc went to the door with Minna and her husband. “They’ll take good care of you, and I’ll be by to see you tonight.”

The fear seeped from the woman’s face at the words. “All right, Doc. If you say so.” She looked at him with absolute confidence.

The door closed behind them. Doc came back, rubbing his head wearily.

“You shouldn’t drive clear over there tonight.” The words were out before it occurred to Brett that Doc might take offense at his meddling.

Doc just shrugged. “Got to. She wouldn’t rest easy if I didn’t stop in. She trusts me.” He straightened, looking at Brett. “That was a good call, Brett. I’m glad you were here today.”

Funny. He’d forgotten, in all those years away, how much Doc’s praise meant to him.