Revealing the Real Dr. Robinson (11 page)

“And the people...they fished for a living. Worked so hard, and seemed happy doing it. There was actually still a millinery shop, Ben. Someone making hats, of all things. I mean, who makes hats?” Wonderment shone in her eyes. “It was the first time I’d ever seen anything outside my own life and I was in awe. I couldn’t believe people lived like these people did.

“Anyway, my father’s colleague turned out to be someone with whom he’d associated when he was guest lecturer at Oxford. Professor Augustus Aloysius Copp. He referred to himself as a licentiate in medicine and surgery, and I thought that sounded more important than just about anything I’d ever heard. Turns out he was a very important man in the medical field.

“But here he was in a fishing village, this man with the most impressive academic record, and he was working as a GP after such an illustrious career. Picking up his medical bag, walking out the door of his two-hundred-year-old cottage and making house calls on a regular basis to people who lived in other two-hundred-year-old cottages.

“My father and I tagged along with him one day and I kept wondering why Dr. Copp was doing it. It was hard work, all that walking, and he wasn’t so young. All I knew was the medicine I saw in my own life every single day. It was very narrow, the way my life was. But, Ben, this was the first time I became aware that there
was
another way. Dr. Copp was happy, his patients respected him and he loved his patients. It was a simple system that worked and he said it was truly the way he’d always wanted to practice medicine.”

“But that kind of a system’s not for you.”

She shrugged. “Not for me. At least, not in the life I have back at Brooks Medical Center.”

“Yet here you are, picking up your medical bag and electric toothbrush and making house calls on a regular basis now. And you’re enjoying it, Shanna. It shows all over you. How can you explain that?”

“I don’t know. Maybe it’s something about knowing how the world needs both Dr. Copp and Dr. Robinson.”

“It also needs Dr. Brooks, wherever she decides she wants to be.”

“
Whatever
she decides she wants to be,” Shanna said, her voice bittersweet.

“You’ll figure it out, Shanna. When you want to. But in the meantime...” He stopped at one of the exam rooms, opened the door and gestured Shanna in.

“What’s this about?” she asked.

He held up his hands. “Good with aching back. Won’t cure anything, but will sure make the aches of the moment feel better.”

“Really? You’d do that for me?” Before he had a chance to answer, she scooted into the room and was already halfway up on the exam table. “Never let it be said I don’t take full advantage when something good is presented me. So, do you want my shirt off, Ben?”

He gulped. “Your shirt?”

“For the massage. Would it be easier without my shirt?”

Images of Shanna without her shirt flashed through his mind, exploded in his mind, sky-rocketed all around his mind, and it was all he could do to maintain his doctorly comportment. Bad idea, this massage. Especially when he didn’t stand a chance of keeping it professional. At least, not in his mind—damned traitor to his resolves.

“No, leave it on,” he said, wishing he didn’t have to say that. But better safe than sorry. “I can get at the places I need without it coming off.”
Unfortunately.

“Lower back,” she said, settling down. “Above the coccyx, just to the...” She sucked in her breath, held it for a moment as his fingers went, almost instinctively, right to the spot. “Yes,” she murmured, hoping it didn’t sound like a purr. “Right there.”

“So, tell me the story of your back injury. Your big,
big
foible,” he said as his fingers applied the first level of pressure. “And the tattoo. What’s that about?”

“Tattoo’s about my first real act of rebellion. Actually, the second part of my first real act.”

“The foible?”

“Yes, the foible. After the whole window-chair incident, I decided I wanted horseback riding lessons. My parents refused. They didn’t have enough time to take me, said it was too dangerous, kept telling me I had better things to do with my time. Take your pick. There was a counterargument for every one of my arguments.” She laughed.

“I will say, it was the first time they ever put up much of a united front against me. Most of the time they deferred me to the other parent, who deferred me back, turning most decisions concerning me into a volley between two parents who didn’t know what to do with me and didn’t want to take the time to find out. In the end, I usually got what I wanted because they got sick of the back and forth.”

“Making you a very willful child.”

He applied a little extra pressure just offside her tattoo, causing her to gasp, suck in a sharp breath, then let it out judiciously. “You really know where to hurt a girl, don’t you?”

“On the back, or in the pride?”

“A little bit of both. But you’re right. I was willful. Saw my advantages and took them where I could. Except about the horseback riding. I had no idea what to do against a united front. So I ignored their refusal to allow me to do it and did it anyway. One of my girlfriends had a beautiful chestnut mare boarded at a local stable so I’d go with her after school when she’d go to groom or ride her horse.”

“And you rode her horse?”

“Not exactly. You know that part where you said I was willful...” She flinched again. “Are you doing that on purpose? Trying to hurt me?”

“You’re tensing up.”

Because his fingers on her felt so...good. Perfect. Like they were the fingers that should be massaging her back. “I’m tensing up because talking about my family makes me tense,” she lied.

“Actually, you were talking about your friend’s horse.”

“
My
horse,” she corrected. “There was a beautiful gray there for sale, so I bought her.”

“You had that kind of money when you were a kid? Because when I was that age I was doing good to scrape together twenty dollars.”

“No, I didn’t have that kind of money, but I knew the combination to my dad’s safe so I took a little bit at a time, hoping he wouldn’t notice it missing, or would think he’d miscounted last time he’d checked. Eventually, I had enough to buy a horse.”

He chuckled. “Burglary. Good plan. Where I come from, that’ll get you sent off to a juvenile correctional facility.”

“Where I come from, too. But that’s not what happened. I bought my horse, paid for riding lessons and to have her boarded with that money I was taking, and had a perfectly good secret going for over a year. Then I fell off. Got sloppy saddling my horse, didn’t get everything cinched properly and took a mighty hard fall on one of the trails. Fractured my back, not seriously but serious enough that I had to be airlifted to a hospital by helicopter.”

“Riding in a helicopter with a broken back usually isn’t conducive to being kept secret.”

“Especially when the helicopter sets down on my family’s own helipad, even though I’d specifically told the pilot to take me to another hospital. Anyway, they’d radioed ahead, and when they pulled my stretcher out of the chopper, there to greet me were my parents, my grandparents and a few other family members. Imagine a whole platoon of Brooks medical workers standing there with scowls and folded arms... The scowls came only after they’d determined I was okay, by the way. But still...”

“Secret’s out.”

“In a big way. And I had to give my horse back. Then deal with the consequences of going into my dad’s safe and taking the money, which turned into the kind of hospital duty no one ever aspires to.”

“Did it involve bedpans?”

She nodded. “And that was one of the more pleasant aspects of my punishment.”

He chuckled as he shifted the focus of his massage up a couple of inches. “Something tells me that didn’t end the rebellion.”

“Hardly. My physical therapist...beautiful man, my first adult crush, actually. Let me rephrase that—my first teenage crush on an adult. I fell in love with his tattoos probably more than I fell in love with him. They represented freedom and self-expression. Anyway, he had these big,
muscly arms...”

“Unlike mine.”

“You have nice arms, Ben. Small in proportion to Lance’s arms, but you work out.”

“How can you tell?”

“A girl notices these things, even under long sleeves.” She noticed it was his muscles that tensed up this time. Could feel it in his touch, in the way he attacked her muscles, going from firm and gentle to nearly pinching.

“Had to start when I was a kid. Didn’t see any reason to stop.”

Something to do with his own physical rehab? She wondered about it, wanted to ask, but nothing in Ben made him seem inclined to want to tell her about his scars. So she didn’t ask. Instead, she returned to her own conversation, trying to keep it light to make him feel at ease, because maybe if he stayed at ease, he’d talk about himself. She hoped he would, anyway.

“Like me. I didn’t see any reason to stop rebelling so I got a tattoo. Thought about something dark and sinister like a skull or a snake. Decided I’d rather go artsy. Since I’d broken my back, I choose the Djed, had it put right over my own backbone. It’s Egyptian, by the way. And it’s believed that the Djed is a rendering of a human backbone. It represents stability and strength.”

“Well, your Djed is artsy. Has a nice sarcasm to it, doesn’t it? A particularly explicit message, which I’m sure your parents didn’t appreciate the first time they saw it.”

“After I had it done I was actually going to keep it hidden, but something about a lower back tattoo and a low-cut swimsuit don’t go together. We have a pool, and I was sitting out there one day, reading a book, and my grandmother saw it.”

“Let me guess. She made a fuss?”

“That’s not even the half of it. By the time the whole Brooks clan got through with me, you’d have thought I’d tattooed it in the middle of my forehead.”

He moved his hands up another couple of inches, splayed out his fingers on either side of her spine, and applied a much deeper pressure than he’d been applying. “More bedpan duty?”

“Enough to make me the bedpan queen of the world.”

“But you got what you wanted, didn’t you?”

“My tattoo?”

“No. Attention. You’re a smart woman now so I’m assuming you were a smart girl then. And smart girls know they will get caught stealing their father’s money, and buying a horse, and getting a tattoo. Your crimes, Shanna, were all pretty obvious. Anyone looking would have noticed them, which is why I believe you did what you did. To see if your parents were watching.”

She’d never analyzed her rebelliousness that way. To her, the things she’d done as a child had been pranks. Stupid, childhood whims. But cries for attention? “They were busy people,” she said, not sure if she should defend them or defend herself.

“Busy people with a child who needed to be noticed.”

Which had made her seem so willful. And she had been, but that was a long time ago. Still, what if that was what he thought of her now? What if he believed her turning up here was something done out of sheer, petulant willfulness? Everything she’d told Ben led her to that conclusion, so why wouldn’t he be led, as well? “That’s why you think I’m here, isn’t it? You think I’m still the child who wants to be noticed? That coming to Argentina is just a step or two beyond my tattoo?”

Bolting up on the table, she twisted round to face him on her way off it. “Tell me, Ben. Is that the conclusion you’ve drawn? That I’m looking for attention so I came out here into the middle of nowhere hoping somebody notices me? That I’m being...manipulative?”

“You’re not driven by selfish needs, Shanna. I know that. I don’t think there’s anything manipulative about you.”

But there was, and that was when she realized it. She was here to use Ben as her means to being accepted back into the family, and into the medical center. Maybe she wasn’t overtly using him, but using him as her role model to get something she wanted was its own brand of manipulation, and suddenly she felt ashamed. She should have been honest with him from the start, and take the consequences as they came. Now it was too late. Ben wasn’t who she’d believed he was. Not at all. And to top that, she was falling in love with him.

“Look, I um...” Sliding to the floor, she paused for a moment, but couldn’t find it in herself to look at him. “About tonight. I can’t go to the village with you. And you do need your rest.” She wanted to suggest another time, but she wasn’t sure she should. Because to go much further with this, she’d have to tell him everything, and to do that would hurt a kind, decent man who didn’t deserve to be hurt.
Hey, look, Ben. I came here to pattern myself after the coldhearted so-and-so I thought you were.
It made her sick to even think that had been her motivation.

“Anyway, I’m going to make sure Beatriz gets back home safely, then I’ve got some paperwork to catch up on. So...” There was nothing else to say, so she didn’t. Sighing, she shook her head in despair, then walked out the door.

* * *

What was the point of any of it? It always turned out the same. He’d taken that step forward, and she’d stepped backward. He’d gone against his resolve, and it had turned out exactly the way he’d known it would. But there were times he just wanted to forget who he was, how he lived. Because, damn it, he was lonely. So lonely he had to force himself to face the next day. Every time he crawled out of his bed, it felt like something was ripping out his heart. And Shanna...he knew she wouldn’t stay. But he’d wanted to forget that. Wanted to forget his past, forget everything.

But it didn’t matter, did it? Or maybe it did. Because it hurt more than he’d expected as he hadn’t been able to brace himself against her the way he did everything else. So, really, what
was
the point?

He was falling in love, which was tantamount to falling into a great abyss. That was the point.

CHAPTER NINE

“T
HEY
’
LL
both be back next week,” Ben explained to Shanna as the two of them shared a hasty breakfast at his tiny kitchen table, sipping coffee and eating
sandwiches di miga,
crustless sandwiches stuffed with red peppers, tomatoes, lettuce, ham and hard-boiled eggs. He was glad Amanda and Jack were returning to Caridad but concerned at the same time because, while his sister’s pregnancy was textbook perfect, he knew she would throw herself into the work here the way she always did, and it worried him.

Of course, she was Jack’s to worry about now. He was only the bystander, as it should be. In so many ways, though, he envied her the life she was building. Husband, son, baby on the way...he’d never dreamed of having those things. Why fool himself? Marriage, family, happily-ever-after bliss weren’t in his future, and he’d known that for a very long time.

“So if I left, you wouldn’t be in a bind?”

“You’re thinking about leaving?” It didn’t surprise him. Shanna needed more than this. She was too vital to contain here. He understood it, but he didn’t like it.

“Maybe. Haven’t really decided yet.”

“Going back to Chicago? Back to your practice.”

She shook her head. “I, um...I’m going back, but in a different direction. Going to step out of patient care, leave that for those more suited to it, and focus on hospital administration. Chief Operating Officer.”

That surprised him. No, that shocked him. “Which means?”

“A lot of responsibility. I’ll be accountable for the smooth and efficient operation of all our various facilities, including the management of the profit-and-loss statement for the hospital’s business. I’ll also oversee the integration of our strategic plan, and provide oversight for the development of high-quality, cost-effective and integrated clinical programs throughout Brooks Medical Center. Our management portfolio is diverse, Ben, and this position carries with it a substantial scope of obligation. It’s a new position for Brooks Medical Center and my family feels it’s best keeping it in the family.”

“Then why are you here, working harder than you’ve probably ever worked in your life, telling me you want to be like me?”

“One last fling to see where I belong, I suppose.”

“What you’re telling me is that based on what you’re doing here, you’re going to return to Brooks and never see another patient again? How does that make sense, Shanna? Because that’s not you. You love patient care. In fact, I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone love it the way you do. Anyone looking at you can see it. And anyone who knows you knows that not being in patient care will make you miserable. So why the change?”

“You adjusted to your life, Ben, based on your circumstances. That’s all I’m doing—adjusting.”

“But I didn’t walk away from the one thing I truly love.”

“I’m not walking away, either. Simply walking in another direction.”

Something else was at the bottom of this because Shanna clearly did not want to make this move. Judging from the dismal look on her face, she knew it was a mistake. Yet for some reason he didn’t know, she was about to go through with it. “Are you trying to get yourself even more lost?” he asked. “Because the minute you put on your administrator hat, that’s what’s going to happen to you, and I think you know that.

“Some people are born to be great administrators, Shanna. But some are born to be great healers, and that’s what you are. Your heart, your soul...it’s all about the care of others, and if you walk away from it, you’re going to regret it every day of your life. And the down-to-the-soul kind of misery you’re going to feel can cause you to do things to yourself you’d never believed you could.” Alcoholism. Drug addiction. And worse.

“No, I’m not trying to get myself any more lost because I’m not sure it’s possible to be any more lost than I already am,” she said on a dispirited sigh.

“Then why leave here? We may not have all the whistles and bells you have at Brooks, but I believe you know who you are here.”

“Why leave?” she asked, then immediately countered with, “Why stay?”

“Because you love the work, you can’t deny that.”

“Yeah, well, I love lazy days on a tropical beach, too. But not enough to spend the rest of my life there. Besides, you’ll be back to full coverage, so you’re not going to need an extra doctor hanging around.”

“Don’t make this about what I need or don’t need for Caridad. We always need doctors. That’s probably never going to change. So why are you really doing this?” Why the hell couldn’t he just bring himself to tell her he wanted her here? That he liked having her around? That she made him feel...she simply made him
feel?

Because that would call for a step further, a commitment he didn’t have in him. Oh, she’d stay out of pity, or some selfless act that bound her here only as a doctor, because that was who Shanna was. In the end, though, she’d quit looking at him the way she had when she’d kissed him, the way a lover did. Seeing that look die was something he couldn’t bear. That was why he couldn’t ask her or tell her or beg her to stay. Because she would, but for reasons that would only hurt her.

“You’ve got more than enough volunteers to cover, Ben, so you really don’t need me.”

“But it’s nice having someone here for...for continuity’s sake.”

She laughed bitterly. “That’s me. Standing right in there for continuity’s sake.” She glanced down at the sandwich she’d been nibbling at for the past twenty minutes, then tossed it across the room, hitting the trash can with it dead center. “Look, I’m not going to leave you in a lurch, if that’s what you’re worried about. I may wear my heart on my sleeve when it comes to dealing with my patients, but I’m responsible.”

Ben pushed back from the table so abruptly his chair toppled as he stood. “Whoever said you weren’t?”

“Outright? Nobody. By implication? My father and my grandfather. My mother, my grandmother. My brothers. See, I’m the one who didn’t fit into the mold, and maybe that’s some of that willfulness from my youth hanging on. Maybe it’s not. I don’t know. But I do know this. There comes a time when you have to meet your life head on. This is my time. And my life...it is what it is.” She spun, headed for the door, got to the doorway then stopped, and turned to face him.

“I love Caridad, Ben. Love what you’re doing here. For me, that’s always the problem. I love, and it gets in the way. You, of all people, should understand that, because you’ve managed to push all the love in your life so far to the sides I doubt you could even see it from wherever you choose to stand.”

While she hadn’t meant that to be cruel, what she’d just said slapped him so hard he could almost feel the literal sting. It was true, of course. Just not easy to hear. Even more difficult knowing Shanna could see that in him.

“I, um...I spare other people’s feelings,” he said with much more composure than he felt. “Because I know how it is to come face-to-face with a flaw. That’s what I am, Shanna. A flaw. And I accept that because while people may take pity on me for a little while, it doesn’t last. So why put anybody through that? Why put myself through it when I know how it turns out in the end? So if you see that as shoving love aside, then that’s what it is. But that’s me. It’s not you. Love doesn’t get in your way. It’s what makes you who you are...a doctor who exudes passion and compassion. Losing that to paperwork is...it’s unfortunate. And wrong.”

“But what happens, Ben, when the passion and compassion get in the way of good doctoring?”

Now he had the perfect picture, the perfect understanding of what her family had done to her, and it made him sick to his stomach. “You said you wear your heart on your sleeve.”

She nodded. Swallowed hard. “That’s me. Heart on my sleeve. A real sissified practitioner because I get too emotionally involved.”

“Who the hell ever said something like that to you?” Actually, he could guess. He’d met Miles Brooks once. Recognized his handiwork.

“It doesn’t matter, because it’s true. I get too involved. Lose objectivity.”

“Your grandfather is wrong, Shanna. And it does matter. Your greatest ability is the way you empathize with your patients. You understand them in ways most doctors can’t, and to berate that shows ignorance and intolerance. So why are you going back to a place where you can’t be the kind of doctor you have a natural gift for being simply to try and fit yourself into a mold that will never fit you?”

“Because if I don’t, it’s not just my spot in the family medical practice I’ll lose. It’s my spot in the family. And in spite of who they are, or what they are, I don’t want to walk away from them.”

“Maybe you don’t, but think about how they’re willing to walk away from you. Look, Shanna, I know what it’s like to have everything you’ve ever known taken away from you. After I was burned I spent a year, a complete year simply fighting to survive, and I gave up more times that I can probably remember. Not because of the pain, not because of the prospect of dozens of surgeries in my future, but because I knew that my old life was gone. I lost my youth, I lost my innocence and I lost everything I’d ever thought I would have in life because one simple thing I loved doing—working on cars with my dad—went bad in ways no one could have ever predicted.

“Trust me, it’s not easy coming back from that loss. By the age of nineteen I was an alcoholic. Couldn’t get through my day without bracing myself with a drink or two or ten. Then when that wasn’t enough to get me through, I added drugs to that mix.”

“Ben,” she gasped, “I—I didn’t know.”

“Nobody does, outside my family. It was a bad time for all of us, but the point is I lost myself in profound ways I still don’t understand. I couldn’t figure out my day, let alone my life, because I was scared to death to face my loss. And that’s what you’re about to do. You’re about to lose yourself in such a profound way because you’re afraid to face the loss of your family. But the loss of Shanna Brooks is a far worse loss.”

She swiped at the tears streaming down her cheeks as Ben crossed the room and pulled her into his arms. A place where she fit so naturally. It was a dangerous thing he was doing. But for the moment Shanna’s need was greater than his, and nothing else mattered.

“You’re a good man,” Shanna finally said through her sniffles. She put her hand over his heart. “I don’t know what you’ve suffered in the past, but you have too much goodness in your heart to shut out the people who see it, who want to be part of it.” Her hand moved to the right, and came to rest on the buttons of his white camp shirt. “A few days ago, when I told you my goal was to lose myself...” She undid the top button of his shirt. “That’s what you do, isn’t it? Lose yourself, pray to God nobody finds you. It’s no different than what I’m doing, is it? You isolate yourself in a jungle clinic for fear someone will get too close. I isolate myself in my family for fear they will turn their backs on me. Makes us quite a pair, doesn’t it?”

There was nothing in him that was prepared to deal with this—with her brutal honesty. Because she was correct. It was easier being lost. “I tried the other way, and it didn’t work.”

She undid another button. “Because you didn’t want it to work, Ben. You’re a capable man. Maybe the most capable person I’ve ever met, so you’re not going to be stopped at anything you truly want to do.”

He raised his hand to cover hers, to stop her unbuttoning his shirt, because what she’d find underneath was so obscene, and Shanna was so pure. “What I want is my practice here.”

“And to be left alone,” she said. “You forgot to add that part, Ben. You truly, sincerely want to be left alone. Want to be a recluse, live your life out without anybody coming close. Then someday Amanda’s children can talk about their odd uncle, the one who spent his life in this one-room apartment and only came out to work.” She drew in a shuddering breath, then let it out and looked up at him. “I show it all too easily, and you hide it all too easily.”

Without provocation, without warning, she pulled her hand away from his, then grabbed hold of his shirt and literally ripped it open, exposing every bare inch of his chest.

“Damn it to hell,” he grunted, grabbing at the fabric, trying to cover himself.

“No,” she said, her voice almost a whisper as she grabbed his hand. “Don’t, Ben.”

“You don’t understand...” Shoving her hands off him, he spun around and literally broke into a run, to his bathroom, to his closet, anywhere to cover himself. Anywhere to get away.

But Shanna was too quick. She caught up, practically tackling him as she grabbed him from behind, and held on. Laid her head on his back, wrapped her arms around his waist and simply held on for dear life. For a minute, or an eternity...it all blended together. His needs, his desires, his reality... Then he snapped back to where he needed to be. “Don’t do this, Shanna,” he said. “Don’t fool yourself into thinking that this could be something other than what it is. We’re colleagues, that’s all there is. That’s all I do.”

“But is it all you
want
to do?” she asked him. “Tell me the truth, Ben. Is that all you want of us?”

“All I want is...”

“To be left alone to practice your medicine. That’s what you keep saying. And maybe you believe it. But I don’t.”

How could he do this? How could he walk away from her and not look back? He wanted her to stay. Wanted to live in the fantasy that everything would work out, that they could end up like Amanda and Jack, and work through the obstacles to find the love. But he knew better, because he knew himself. And Ben Robinson, as himself, was the one thing Shanna didn’t know. She saw the doctor and the outward manifestations of the man, but the layers underneath were so grisly they would defy Shanna’s usual sunshine optimism. To see that diminished or destroyed in her...he couldn’t do it, because it was that optimism he’d first loved about her.

“We all make choices based on who we are, Shanna. It’s one of those facts of life you can’t escape.”

Loosening her grip, she slid round to the front of him and gently pulled apart the ripped fabric of his shirt. “What if you make choices on the wrong perception of yourself?” Gently, so very gently, she traced her fingers over his chest, over his scars. “Could that be you, Ben? Could that be what you’ve done to yourself?”