Читать книгу Sacred Trust - Hannah Alexander - Страница 15

A t eight o’clock Friday evening, Lukas completed his patient charts and sat back with a sigh. As usual, the evening rush hour had hit with a vengeance, making up for a midafternoon lull. He’d seen twenty patients today, several with high acuities—two chest pains, one asthma, a surgical abdomen, and a broken leg. Not bad for a day’s work when you also took into account the numerous flu, strep, pneumonia, sprain and workmen’s compensation patients he’d also seen. He’d had to fly one heart attack out via chopper to the trauma center at Cox South in Springfield. There was just so much this small, class-four facility dared to handle without sending some patients to a place with more specialized equipment and medical expertise.

Lukas decided not to wait until he got home to call his father, but opened his cell phone as he changed from his scrubs to his street clothes. He smiled when Dad answered in the middle of the first ring, then frowned at the sight of his rumpled clothes in the mirror. He had to start using hangers.

“Hey, Dad,” he said after the preliminary greetings, “I’m off this whole weekend. What do you think about that?”

“I don’t believe it,” came his father’s musical baritone voice. “It’s been months since you had a Saturday and Sunday off in a row. How’d you manage that your first week there?”

“I’m the only full-time physician working at Knolls Community E.R. Since most of the other docs practice family medicine during the weekdays, that’s when I work. Mrs. Pinkley warned me that once she wins her battle with the number crunchers, she’ll be hiring more full-time doctors in the E.R. and then I’ll have to share my cushy hours.”

“What did you tell her about your problems in Kansas City?”

“The truth. I told her that I had personality differences with my trainer during my residency, and—”

“Did you also tell her you weren’t the only one who had trouble with him? Did you tell her that he and a nurse lied on the witness stand about your actions?”

“No, I just showed her the court papers where my name was cleared and the hospital was forced to stop blocking my license. She checked my references and told me that was good enough. She also said that it was her opinion that docs were worse about professional jealousy than attorneys. I guess she was satisfied, because she hired me. She’s quite a lady.”

“Is she married?”

Lukas sighed and rolled his eyes. “Yes, Dad, she’s married, and she’s retirement age.”

“Doesn’t hurt to ask. Found a church yet?”

“Not yet.”

“Just think, you might even have time to join the choir and actually be there every Sunday for a change.”

Lukas shook his head. Dad had never come to grips with the fact that his youngest son could not carry a tune. “What are you doing this weekend? I thought I might drive up. It’s only about a two and a half hour trip to Mount Vernon from here.”

“We won’t be home tomorrow. We’re driving to Roaring River with the Goennigs for some fishing.”

Lukas stifled his disappointment. There was plenty to do this weekend. “Still feeling like a newlywed?”

“I still am a newlywed. It’s only been a year.”

“How’s Beth?”

“Busy as ever.” Besides being the church librarian, Lukas’s new stepmom, Elizabeth, was on the kitchen committee at church, and she helped out at the senior citizen center and delivered food for Meals on Wheels. She’d been good friends with Mom and Dad before Mom got sick, and she was there for them throughout the chemotherapy and radiation. After Mom died, Beth had been there for Dad as a friend. She, too, had lost a spouse five years earlier, and Lukas had always been glad of her friendship. She’d fit perfectly into the family, and she was good for Dad.

“I wish you’d called sooner,” Dad said. “We just made the date with the Goennigs today.”

“That’s okay, Dad. I probably need to stay and settle in, anyway.”

“Oh? Don’t tell me you actually have furniture now. That tiny apartment of yours barely had room for a bed and a couch.”

“I had a small kitchen table, too.”

“Does your new house have a kitchen?”

“Of course.”

“Have you found your way into it? I bet your refrigerator isn’t even hooked up yet.”

“I don’t have a fridge here.”

“It figures.”

“I haven’t had a chance to get one. I’ve only been here a week and I’ve been working. I’ll probably pick one up tomorrow somewhere.”

“Do you have a stove?”

“The house came with one, yes.”

“Let me guess. You don’t even know if it’s gas or electric, do you?”

“I specifically remember the gas flames when they showed me the house.”

Dad sighed. “Do you have any new kitchen utensils? Last time I checked, all you had was that skillet and spatula Beth gave you for Christmas last year.”

“I eat out a lot. I used to keep cereal and milk when I had that little fridge in KC, but most of the time the milk got old before I had a chance to drink it.”

Dad clicked his tongue. “You’ve been a bachelor too long, Lukas. You need a wife.”

“I haven’t had any volunteers.”

“Any possibilities? Any dates lately?”

“No actual dates…”

“But…?”

“But nothing. One of the nurses invited me to eat with some of the staff, but I was late and everyone else had left. She’s been nice so far, but I just don’t—”

“Son, you have to get over what happened in KC. You can’t let one woman’s actions hurt your own growth.”

“Dad, that woman’s testimony in court almost destroyed my career. All she had to do was cry sexual harassment when I wouldn’t go out with her, and seduction when she turned up pregnant, and they listened! If it hadn’t been for that DNA test—”

“But you’re not in jail, and your career has not been destroyed. God is faithful.”

“I know, but people aren’t. There are some pretty vindictive people in this world.”

“That’s why you always count on God, not people. You’re a good doctor, Lukas. Don’t forget that. And you’re a wonderful person. You deserve a loving woman, someone who shares your ethical standards—someone who shares your faith. Don’t give that one misguided nurse the power to color all of your relationships with all other women for the rest of your life.”

Lukas hesitated, glancing at his watch. “I guess I should go get some dinner before everything closes. Have a good time tomorrow, Dad, and tell Beth I sent my love.”

There was a loud sigh over the phone line. “I’ll tell her. Take care. Our prayers are with you every day. And, Lukas? One little date with a nice Christian lady wouldn’t kill you.”

After Lukas hung up he pulled on his jacket, grabbed his bag and walked out to the car. Sometimes he wished he’d kept his mouth shut about the Kansas City court case, but Lukas had never been able to keep secrets from his father. Besides, being fired from the hospital and kicked out of the residency program had left Lukas without an income for several months, until his permanent medical license had come through. During that time, not long after Mom’s death, Lukas had gone home to stay with Dad and work as a respiratory tech at St. John’s in Joplin.

Enough wallowing. Though he was disappointed about his immediate plans falling through, the weekend still beckoned ahead like a long holiday. There were hiking trails to explore and a river nearby. He’d heard one of the EMTs—Buck, the guy brave enough to try to feed Cowboy’s lion—talk about how he liked to fish. Fishing didn’t measure up to hiking, but the company would be nice. Of course, Lukas hadn’t been invited.

Ten minutes after leaving work he parked on the town square by the courthouse, took a picture textbook out of his bag to study while he ate and walked down the street to the only place on the square still open this late, Little Mary’s Barbecue. He liked this café, not only because they served his favorite food, barbecued ribs, but also because of the homey atmosphere and the fact that they pitched their homemade dinner rolls to you from across the room, just like at Lambert’s up near Springfield. Lukas carried his book with him over to a corner table, ordered a plate of ribs and proceeded to read about dermatological medicine, his latest in a series of subjects he wanted to know better. His two-week dermatology rotation had bored him to death, but sometimes a case would crop up in the E.R. He wanted to hone his knowledge.

He smelled the sharp, smoky aroma of ribs as the server set the platter on the table. Then he heard a quick intake of breath, but by the time he glanced up from his reading, the server was stalking away—and “stalking” was the word for it. She shot him a glance over her shoulder as she neared the kitchen, and he could have sworn he saw offended animosity in the look. What was wrong with her?