The Doctor's Christmas (4 page)

Suppressing that little flutter his smile provoked, she took a knife and split the piece of pie, sliding part onto a different plate. “Let's give Dr. Hardesty a little sliver of each kind,” she suggested.

The pie bakers greeted that with enthusiasm. Evie might be acknowledged as the best cherry pie baker, but no one else intended to be left in the dust. Before Grant escaped from the serving line, they'd managed to add slivers of dried apple, rhubarb, lemon meringue and mincemeat pie.

Maggie helped herself to coffee, then realized that Grant had headed straight for the table where Joey sat. Her nerves stood at attention.

By now, all five hundred and three residents of Button Gap knew about the warning Gus had delivered. They were all on the lookout for Mrs. Hadley. Everyone, in other words, but Grant.

She reached the table quickly. She thought Joey
understood how important it was to keep quiet about their mother's absence, but kids were unpredictable, and it was her job to keep them safe.

Joey wore a rim of cherry around his mouth. “Sure is good pie,” he said thickly.

“You better take it easy, or you won't be able to sleep tonight.” Relieved, Maggie slid into the seat next to Joey. Unfortunately, that put her directly across from Grant.

His level brows lifted. “Are you talking to Joey or to me?”

“Both of you.”

“You're the one who made me accept all of this,” he protested.

“You didn't want to insult anyone, did you?”

He glanced at the crowded plate. “If it's that or my arteries, I think I'll take the arteries.” He took a bite of Evie's cherry pie, and then gave a sigh of pure pleasure. “Although this might be worth the risk.”

Their smiles entangled, and her heart rate soared.

You're mad at him, remember?
she reminded herself, but it didn't seem to be doing any good. Maybe she'd better concentrate on finishing her dessert and getting the kids home.

Unfortunately Grant seemed to be eating at the same rate she was. He put his plate on the dish cart right behind her, grabbed his coat while she was getting the kids into theirs and walked out the door when they did.

“It's chilly out here.” He buttoned the top button of his jacket.

She nodded. “Winter comes early in the mountains. We usually have a white Christmas.”

By Christmas, Nella would be safely home with her children, and one source of Maggie's concern would be taken care of. By Christmas, Grant would be back in his world, probably forgetting about Button Gap the moment he crossed the county line.

The kids romped ahead of them. Joey stopped in the middle of the deserted street. He spun in a circle, his arms spread wide. “Snow!” he shouted.

Maggie looked up. Sure enough, a few lazy flakes drifted down from the dark sky.

“It is snow.” She felt the feather-light touch of a snowflake on her cheek. “Look!”

Her foot hit a pothole in the road, and she stumbled. Grant's arm went around her in an instant, keeping her from falling.

“You're as bad as the kids.” His voice was low and teasing in her ear. “Next thing you know you'll be dancing in the street.”

“Is that so bad?”

She looked up at him and knew immediately she'd made a mistake. Grant's face was very close, his eyes warm with laughter instead of cool and judging. His arm felt strong and sure, supporting her.

The laughter in his eyes stilled, replaced by something questioning, even longing. Nothing moved—no one spoke. The children's voices were a long way off, and the world seemed to move in a lazy circle.

He was going to kiss her. She couldn't let that happen. She had to stop it.

But she couldn't. Whatever her reasonable, responsible brain said, her body had an entirely different agenda.

It didn't happen. Grant seemed to wake himself, as if from a dream.

“Well, maybe we'd better say good night.” There was something almost questioning in the words.

“Yes.” She could only hope she didn't sound as stupid as she felt. “Good night.”

She turned and ran after the children, knowing she was trying to run from herself.

 

Grant let out a sigh of relief as Maggie closed the outer door of the clinic behind the final patient on Monday afternoon and snapped the lock. She flipped the sign to Closed, not that it would actually stop anyone.

“Are we really done for the day?”

He'd been busier than this in the hospital emergency room, of course. Certainly he'd worked longer hours, especially as an intern. But somehow the clinic seemed a heavier responsibility, maybe because there was no one here to back him up except Maggie.

“That's the last of them.” Maggie gathered files from the desk. “Congratulations.”

He lifted an eyebrow, trying not to think about how soft her lips looked, or how he'd almost made the mistake of kissing them on Saturday night. “For what?”

“That was a good catch on Elsie Warner's pregnancy. Some docs wouldn't have seen it.”

He shrugged. “Hopefully it will be nothing, but the ultrasound will tell us for sure. Better to be forewarned than caught unprepared.”

It had been routine, of course. There was no reason to feel elated at the glow of approval in Maggie's eyes.

“Well, you did a good job. And you've been accepted. That steady stream of patients means that the word has gotten around that you're okay.”

He considered that, ridiculously pleased. “Sure it wasn't just the lure of a free checkup?”

“I told you, they don't take charity.” She nodded toward the desk's surface. “You now have three jars of preserves, two of honey, a pound of bacon from the hog the Travis family just slaughtered and a couple of loaves of homemade bread.”

He took a step nearer to Maggie, reminding himself not to get too close. He didn't want to feel that irrational pull of attraction again, did he?

“So deluging me with food is the sign of acceptance in Button Gap?”

“It is.” Her full lips curved in a smile. “Don't tell me the big-city doc actually appreciates that.”

“Hey, nobody ever brought me honey before.” He picked up a jar, holding it to the light to admire the amber color. “You sure this is safe?”

“Of course it's safe.” Her exasperated tone seemed to set a safety zone between them. “Toby Watkins's bees produce the best honey in the county.”

“Well, I can't eat all this stuff on my own, and you have kids to feed. We'll share.”

“You could take some back home to Baltimore with you when you go. Give it to your family.”

He shook his head. “My mother doesn't eat anything but salads and grilled fish, as far as I can tell.” He grimaced. “She might gain an ounce.”

He tried to picture his cool, elegant mother in Button Gap. Impossible.

“You live with your family, do you?”

“No.” He clipped off the word. The Hardesty mansion, as cool and elegant as his mother, hadn't been a place anyone could call home in years. But he wouldn't tell Maggie that.

“I have an apartment close to the hospital. It only made sense to be nearby when I was doing my internship and residency.”

“Will you stay there when your month here is up?”

“Well, that depends.” He put the jar down, and his hand brushed hers. At once that awareness he'd been avoiding came flooding back.

And they were alone in the quiet room with dusk beginning to darken the windows.

Maggie cleared her throat, as if she'd been visited by the same thought. “Depends on what?”

“In a way, on what happens here.” He folded his arms across his chest, propped his hip against the table and kept talking to block feeling anything. “I'm being considered for a place in one of the best general practices in the city. The chief partner is a big supporter of the Volunteer Doctors program.”

Maggie stared at him. “Is that why you came here? To impress him?”

“He suggested it. He said volunteering would be good experience—that I'd learn to relate to patients in a whole new way.”

Actually, Dr. Rawlins had been rather more direct than that.

Technically, you're a good doctor, Hardesty, but you keep too thick a wall between yourself and your patients. I don't want a physician who gets too emotional, but I have to see some passion. Maybe you'll find that if you get into a new situation.

Rawlins was the best, and Grant wanted that partnership. So he'd taken the advice, even though he wasn't sure passion was his forte. Being a good physician ought to be enough.

“And is it working?” Maggie's question was tart, and he remembered what she'd said about volunteers coming here to pad up their résumés.

Anger welled up, surprisingly strong. She didn't have the right to judge him.

“What's wrong, Maggie? Isn't that an altruistic enough motive for you?”

She stiffened, hands pressed against the desk. “It's none of my business why you came.”

“No? Then why are you looking at me as if you're judging me?”

“I'm not.” She turned away, the stiffness of her shoulders denying the words. “I suppose we're just lucky that our needs happen to coincide with yours.”

They were lucky. The people of Button Gap got
his services for a month at no cost to the community, and he got the experience he needed to land the position he wanted. It was a fair exchange.

So it didn't matter to him in the least that knowing his motives had disillusioned Maggie.

Not in the least.

“Y
ou sure keeping the boy out of school is the only way of handling this?” Aunt Elly still looked worried on Tuesday morning as Maggie headed for the office.

Maggie paused, wishing she didn't have to hide Joey away from his friends. Was she overreacting? Letting her own fear of the county social worker govern what she did with the children? The memory of the deputy's visit was too fresh in her mind to allow her to judge.

“I know he doesn't want to stay home.”

She glanced toward the living room, where Joey was trying to convince his siblings to play school. They didn't seem impressed with the idea of sitting still.

“I just don't know what else to do. If he's in school, it's too easy for Mrs. Hadley to find him.”

Aunt Elly gave her a searching glance, as if plumb
ing the depths of Maggie's soul. “What did his teacher have to say about it?”

“She agreed it was just as well.” Nobody at the small Button Gap elementary school would want to give them away, but they also couldn't risk running afoul of the county. “That way they're not to blame. It's not long until Christmas vacation anyway, and Emily Davison will tutor him. He won't fall behind.”

“Guess maybe it's for the best.” Aunt Elly's agreement sounded reluctant, but really, what else could they do? “How are you going to explain it to Grant?”

Her fingers clenched. “I'm not.” She shook her head. “Honest, we can't take the chance. He can't know about Joey being out of school.”

“I don't want to lie to the man.” Aunt Elly's blue eyes darkened. “I'm not saying I won't, in a good cause, but I surely don't want to.”

“We can't risk telling him the truth.” Aunt Elly might think Grant could be trusted, but Maggie wasn't so sure. She kissed the older woman's cheek, its wrinkles a road map of the life of service Aunt Elly had lived. “Trust me. We can't depend on him.”

Aunt Elly nodded, clearly still troubled. “I'll go along with you, child. But keep your mind open. The doc might be a better man than you take him for.”

Maggie slipped out the door, shrugging her jacket closer for the short walk to the clinic's door. Aunt Elly always gave everyone the benefit of the doubt.

We can't depend on him.
She didn't even
want
to depend on the man. He was an outsider, and he didn't
mean a thing to her except as an obstacle to keeping those children safe. Not a thing.

She opened the clinic door. Grant, in the hallway pulling on a lab coat, turned to her with a smile lighting his normally serious face. Her heart gave a rebellious jump.

“Morning.”

She concentrated on hanging up her jacket. What did Grant have to smile at, anyway? Certainly the last words that had passed between them the day before had been anything but friendly. She reached for her lab coat, only to find that Grant was already holding it for her.

“Thank you.”

“Sure.” His hands brushed her shoulders as she slipped the coat on.

With an effort, she steadied her breath and took a step away from him. It was just the effect of his closeness in the dim, narrow hallway—that was all. She certainly didn't have any longing to lean against him or to rely on him. Absolutely not.

“You came in early.” She slipped past him, rounding the corner into the reception area and snapping on the overhead light.

He followed, leaning against the door frame. The harsh light picked out the fine lines around his eyes, the slant of his cheekbone. His usual neat pants, pale blue dress shirt and lab coat seemed to advertise the fact that he was out of his sphere.

“There's not much else to do. What's on our plate for today?”

Grant sounded determined to be friendly if it killed him. He'd probably decided that it didn't pay for the two of them to be at odds.

She might feel that way, too, if she weren't weighed down with the secret she had to keep, to say nothing of that ridiculous little flutter she felt every time he got too close.

She sat down at the desk and glanced over the list of appointments. “This looks pretty routine, but I imagine we'll have some walk-ins. Cold and flu season is on us already.”

“Nothing like having a waiting room full of people sharing their germs.” He leaned over her shoulder to look at the schedule, running his finger down along the list.

His nearness made her voice tart in self-defense. “People come because they're sick, remember?”

His hand paused on the chart, then pressed flat. “Come on, Maggie, give me a break. You know I was kidding.”

“Sorry.”

That abrupt word certainly didn't sound very gracious. Aunt Elly would be ashamed of her, if she heard. She took a breath, trying to find something better to say. The trouble was, she just couldn't forget why he was here.

Grant leaned against the desk and folded his arms across his chest, looking down at her. He did that disdainful expression really well. People like him were probably born with the ability.

“What is it, Maggie? Are you still bothered by my motives for volunteering?”

She pushed her chair back, its wheels squeaking, to put another few inches between them. “I'm sorry,” she said again, knowing she still didn't sound convincing. “It's really none of my business why you're here.”

“That's right—it's not.” His lips tightened. “Most people have a little self-interest in what they do. Probably even you, truth be told.”

“I don't know what you mean. I'm here because they need me here.”

“And because you like to be needed.” He whipped the words back at her.

For a moment, all she could do was stare at him. “That's not true.” Was it? She tried to search her conscience, but that wasn't easy when she was feeling thoroughly annoyed with him.

He shrugged, as if it didn't really matter to him at all. “Have it your way. The point is that your motives don't affect the care you give people. Nor do mine.”

They'd drifted into dangerous territory. She had no desire to let Grant Hardesty know anything about the forces that drove her. That was between her and God.

She took a steadying breath.
I need to get out of this conversation, Lord. I can't afford to say one more thing that annoys him.

“You're right.” She stood, because she couldn't sit there any longer with him looking down at her. “I don't have any complaint about the care you're giving
our patients. We're lucky to have you, no matter why you came.”

She started to brush past him, but he didn't move. She cleared her throat.

“I'd better get the door unlocked. It's almost time to open.”

He looked at her for another moment, then stepped back to let her go by. As she did, she glanced at his face and then was sorry.

She'd created a barrier between them with her attitude. She shouldn't have done that. The last thing she needed was to make Grant any more annoyed and suspicious than he already was.

 

“Take a deep breath for me.”

Grant listened to the patient's breathing sounds, realizing he'd been functioning on automatic pilot for the past half hour. That was Maggie's fault, actually. He was still conducting a silent argument with her in his head.

Why couldn't he just dismiss her opinions for what they were?—the typical self-righteous proclamations of a woman who thought people had to have the highest of motives for every single thing they did.

Probably because he didn't really believe that. Maggie might be prickly, but she did have the best interests of Button Gap at heart.

She belonged here. He didn't. It was as simple as that. For a moment he seemed to see her the way she'd been Saturday night at the church, her eyes lit
with laughter as she joked with the children, her face glowing.

Not a helpful image. He was not attracted to Nurse Maggie, not in the least.

He took the stethoscope from his ears and made eye contact with the elderly woman who'd fulfilled Maggie's prediction about cold and flu season starting.

“That doesn't sound too bad. You go ahead and get dressed, and I'll leave a prescription at the desk with Maggie. Take the pills and get some rest, and you'll be feeling better in no time.”

Her thanks followed him as he strode out of the exam room door.

He was trying to take this morning at his hospital pace, he realized. He may as well slow down. There was no point in rushing through the Button Gap clinic as if it were a city hospital—he couldn't even see the next patient until the current one was out of the exam room.

Inefficient. He frowned. Maybe he ought to give Dr. Rawlins some suggestions about running the clinic more efficiently.

He rounded the corner, to see Maggie leaning across the counter in animated conversation with someone in the waiting room. Any suggestions he made wouldn't reflect adversely on Maggie. He was thinking about the physical setup, not the staff.

He tossed the file on the scarred oak desk as she turned toward him. He pulled the prescription pad
from his pocket. “I'm giving Mrs.—what was her name?”

“Robbins. Addie Robbins.”

He scribbled quickly. No use trying to slow down. Ingrained habits died hard. “I'm giving her an antibiotic for that bronchitis.”

He ripped off the script and handed it to her. She looked at it, frowning. He could almost hear her thinking.

“What?” he snapped. She had some criticism loitering in her mind, he could sense it.

“Maybe it would be better if you considered prescribing—”

He slapped his palm down on the desk. Then, mindful of the room full of waiting patients, he jerked his head toward the rear of the clinic.

“Come back to the office for a moment, Maggie. Please.”

She pushed her chair back, and he heard her footsteps behind him as he stalked back the hallway. As soon as they were inside the crammed office, he swung to face her.

“I'm the doctor, remember? I don't need you second-guessing me on the meds I prescribe. I don't need you second-guessing me on anything.”

If his harsh words intimidated her, it didn't show. She just looked at him for a long moment, her dark eyes giving nothing away. Then she went to the glass-fronted cabinet against the wall and pulled out a box. She thrust it into his hands.

He looked at the contents of the box, frowning.
“Drug samples. So what? If I say the patient should have a particular medicine—”

“A particular medicine that she'd have to drive twenty miles to get.” Maggie's voice didn't betray any emotion, but her dark eyes narrowed dangerously. “If she had a car, which she doesn't. And even if she could get to the pharmacy, she couldn't afford the medication.”

All of a sudden he was on shaky ground. He tried to regroup. “If she has to have it—”

Those soft lips of hers looked as if they were carved from ice. “If she has to have that particular antibiotic, I'll drive down and get it and pay for it myself. But if she doesn't have to have that particular one—” She jerked a sharp nod at the box in his hands.

“You want to give her the medicine.”

“If we give her the antibiotic samples, saying the medicine is part of her office visit, she just might take the pills instead of going home and treating bronchitis with herbal tea and coneflower.”

His irritation drained away. He looked again at the box's contents, packed tight with everything from beta blockers to Zithromax. “You've probably got enough to supply Button Gap for most of the winter. Where did you come by these?”

She shrugged. “Some of the drug reps know how hard up we are. They've been freehanded when it comes to samples.” She glanced down briefly, then looked at him with a certain amount of caution. “I
wasn't trying to second-guess you. I just wanted to be sure Addie got what she needed.”

He lifted an eyebrow. “Don't you ever get tired of being right, Maggie?”

She looked startled, but then her face relaxed in a smile. “Careful, Doctor. I might remind you of that when you don't want to hear it.”

That smile did nice things to her face. And he shouldn't be noticing that.

“Okay.” He flipped quickly through the contents of the box and pulled out what he needed. “Give her these, and make sure she understands she has to take all of them. I don't want to see her back again because she decided to save some for a rainy day.”

“Will do.” She turned, then paused at the door. “Grant…thanks. I appreciate your listening to me.”

“When you're right, you're right.” It was easier to admit than he'd have expected. “Just don't make a habit of it.”

Her eyes danced. “I'll try not to.”

She was gone before he could say anything else. That was probably just as well.

He frowned absently at the dusty file cabinets. He and Maggie had moved from antagonism to an easy banter in a matter of moments. In most hospital circumstances that would be fine, but he and Maggie were alone here. They'd both be better off if they kept things strictly business.

But he had an uneasy suspicion that if he made Maggie laugh too often, “strictly business” would be a tough policy to follow.

 

She might actually begin to enjoy Grant's presence if she had a clear conscience. Maggie stacked patient files and glanced at the clock. Morning office hours were over—Grant would be out soon with the final patient. She'd lock the door, and then they'd be alone again.

And again, she'd be tempted to relax, to laugh with him, to talk. To tell him more than she should.

She touched the faint scar that crossed her collarbone. Faded now, it barely showed, but her fingers could trace the line. It was a vivid reminder of how easily a child could be hurt.

Of what her responsibilities were. She had to protect Joey and Tacey and Robby. There wasn't anyone else.

So she wouldn't let her guard down with Grant. She couldn't.