Читать книгу The Police Chief's Lady - Jacqueline Diamond, Lori Copeland, Jacqueline Diamond - Страница 9

Ethan made frequent uninvited appearances in Jenni’s mind over the next few days. As if she didn’t have enough to do with getting to know her staff, meeting patients and searching for an apartment. Now she also had to deal with the shiver of excitement that ran through her every time she thought about that annoying man.

Until recently, she hadn’t understood what people meant when they talked about chemistry. Jenni had dated plenty of guys and had been intimately involved with several, yet they’d vanished from her awareness when they were out of sight. She certainly hadn’t anticipated running into them on the street, imagining she saw their broad shoulders and feeling disappointed if the man turned out to be someone else.

The good thing about chemistry, she discovered, was that it waned over time. By Friday, she hardly thought of Ethan at all, except once in the dry goods store when she caught a whiff of the same aftershave lotion and had to fight the impulse to invent a pretext to drop by the police station.

Why his wife had left him wasn’t hard to imagine. Despite his bluff appeal, the man was bullheaded and judgmental. He’d made no bones about the fact that he was seeking an excuse to pry into poor people’s lives, either, although she was willing to give him credit for caring about the children. As a father himself, he’d need to be a total monster not to have a soft spot for kids.

She still believed he’d been wrong to bring up her past in front of the city council. Ethan might claim he was doing his duty, but she doubted he’d have behaved the same way if he’d come across negative information regarding her competitor.

Thank goodness most people she met that first week didn’t appear to share his reservations about her. The clinic staff, far from clinging to some other candidate or the memory of the two departed doctors, greeted Jenni with enthusiasm, although perhaps that was due to their having lacked an MD on staff for months.

“You can’t believe what a load I’ve been carrying,” Estelle Fellows, the nurse practitioner and business manager, told Jenni. “I’m qualified to handle basic family care and the state of Tennessee allows me to write prescriptions, but without a doctor around, I feel like I’m walking a tightrope without a net.”

“You must be exhausted.” Jenni had sympathized after learning that Estelle had four kids. The eldest, nineteen-year-old Patsy, worked as office receptionist.

“And the hours!” Estelle went on, ruffling her short dark hair in frustration. “People think that because I’m the pastor’s wife, I’m at their beck and call any old time. I hope they treat you with more respect!” Her husband, Ben, Jenni had learned, worked two jobs, as police captain and as minister, so theirs was indeed a busy household.

“I just hope they accept me.”

“I’d say they already have.”

Sure enough, a steady stream of patients dropped in once word spread that the new doctor was on board. Some people must have saved up their ailments, while others, Jenni got the feeling, mostly wanted to take a look at the new girl in town.

She handled a couple of evening emergencies that week, one involving a broken arm and the other a baby with asthma. The on-call arrangement included her, Estelle and a Mill Valley doctor who lived halfway between the towns.

Estelle continued to treat those patients who requested her services, brought Jenni up to speed on the remaining clients and, at her request, gleefully left early a couple of afternoons to be with her younger children, who were on vacation. Later, she promised, she’d gear up to handle vaccinations and back-to-school exams.

A younger nurse, Yvonne Johnson, assisted Jenni in the office. If Estelle had been welcoming, Yvonne was downright effusive.

“I am so glad they hired a woman!” she said as the two of them ate sandwiches together in the clinic’s lunchroom on Friday. Yvonne was a striking young woman with long silver hair and violet eyes, the hue of which was probably boosted by contact lenses. “I can’t afford to move away, especially now that I’ve got a little girl,” she explained “but you wouldn’t believe how prissy folks can be about single moms.”

“It must be tough on you,” Jenni responded. During the past few days, she had heard Yvonne mention her year-old daughter, Bethany, several times. However, she’d said nothing about the father. According to Estelle, his identity remained a secret.

“That’s putting it mildly. I went to Mill Valley to give birth. I just couldn’t bear…” She stopped. “Well, never mind. Tell me about L.A. Did you go to clubs a lot? I’ll bet that would be fun.”

Jenni hated to admit how boring her life had been. “Once in a while I’d go dancing with some other women from the hospital.” They’d had to drag her, because she hated loud music and rude men.

“Are the guys gorgeous?” Yvonne sighed at the prospect.

“Gorgeous and full of themselves,” Jenni replied.

“You mean they expect sex on the first date?”

“I mean they expect sex before they decide whether there’s going to be a first date.”

The nurse made a face. “That almost makes Downhome sound appealing.”

The fourth member of the clinic staff was a technician, a fellow with the confusing name of Lee Li, who commuted from Mill Valley twice a week to handle sonograms, X rays and routine lab work. Anything complicated had to be sent out by courier, and anyone needing advanced diagnostic treatment such as an MRI had to travel to another town. For major emergencies, Jenni learned, she could call on Vanderbilt University Medical Center’s LifeFlight helicopter to transport the victim to Nashville.

To be so isolated after working in a metropolitan area where medical centers sprouted on every corner felt strange. In L.A., the question had been not where to find a cancer specialist or a neonatal intensive care unit, but which one to use.

Jenni hoped she wouldn’t have to deal with many such cases. No town was immune to tragedy, though.

After lunch on Friday, the influx of patients dwindled. Jenni felt tempted to slip out early to search for an apartment, but her sense of responsibility kept her around.

She enjoyed staying with Karen. However, the house was noisy, since Barry had a stream of newspaper subscribers and advertisers ringing the doorbell and the phone in the early mornings and evenings. Most could have contacted him during work hours, he grumbled. Still, he couldn’t afford to turn away business.

So far, most of the rentals Jenni had found were houses too large for her needs or rooms where she would have to share a kitchen and bathroom with strangers. Other than that, she’d visited one duplex apartment next to another occupied by a large family who screamed at one another while the TV blared.

There had to be something better.

“Dr. Vine?” Patsy, the receptionist, appeared in the doorway to Jenni’s office, where she’d retreated to write up the day’s reports. “Mrs. Forrest just brought Nick in. He scraped his shin and he’s diabetic, so she wanted you to check him out. They’re in examining room two.”

The young woman seemed to assume that Jenni would recognize the names. And of course she did. Nick must be Ethan’s son and Mrs. Forrest, she assumed, was the ex-wife.

Unexpectedly, her throat clogged. What was this woman like who’d managed to tame the glowering beast? And why, Jenni wondered, did she feel a curious reluctance to meet her?

“Is Yvonne with them?” she asked. The nurse should be taking the boy’s vital signs.

“She just finished. She’s in the nurses’ lounge, playing with her baby.” Seeing her perplexed expression, Patsy explained. “Usually, Yvonne’s cousin babysits, but Mrs. Forrest helps out sometimes. Today she brought Bethany with her.”

“I see.” In Downhome, everyone seemed to be connected to everyone else, Jenni reflected as she rose. It was a little disconcerting, but a welcome change from the lack of connections she’d experienced during her own fractured childhood.

Outside the examining room, she read the clipboard containing the boy’s medical history. Now five years old, he’d been diagnosed with type 1 diabetes at age three. A year later, he’d been fitted with a pump to provide the insulin his pancreas couldn’t make.

Like most children, he had some problems complying with the strict diet and the frequent finger pricks to make sure his blood-sugar level held steady. However, the chart indicated he was generally healthy.

Still, the injury concerned Jenni. Due to reduced circulation, diabetics were vulnerable to infections, particularly in their lower extremities.

Taking a deep breath, she tapped on the door, then went in.

Two earnest faces tilted toward hers. On the examining table, a little boy with huge dark eyes and chestnut hair regarded her anxiously. From his slightly dirty shorts and the smudge on his nose, she could tell he’d been playing outdoors.

In the chair beside him sat a woman of around sixty. Her worried air softened as she smiled at Jenni. From the stylishly cut hair to the trim pantsuit, she gave the impression of a retired professional. A scan of Yvonne’s notes revealed that the woman’s first name was Annette.

This had to be Ethan’s mother, not his ex, Jenni realized with an odd sense of relief. At the same time, she wondered why the grandmother, instead of Nick’s mother, cared for the boy.

“Mrs. Forrest? I’m Dr. Vine.” Jenni shook hands with her. Although she wanted to get to know the woman, she wished to establish a rapport immediately with the patient, so she turned to him. “It’s nice to meet you, Nick.”

“Are you going to stick me with a needle?” the boy asked.

“I don’t plan to.” She glanced at his chart again. “I see you’ve had a tetanus shot, so you won’t need one of those. Can you show me where you hurt yourself?”

Biting his lip, he stuck out his leg. The scrape, midway between knee and ankle, was about two inches long, wide but shallow.

“I cleaned it right away and applied an antiseptic,” Mrs. Forrest explained. “It doesn’t seem like a big deal, but Dr. Luther always insisted I bring him in for antibiotics if he got hurt.” By Dr. Luther she must mean Luther Allen, Jenni thought. Mrs. Forrest had probably referred to him this way to distinguish him from his wife. He’d been the pediatrician and she the family doctor.

“I don’t see any signs of infection,” Jenni was saying when the door opened.

With his muscular frame and restless energy, Ethan Forrest dominated the room even before entering it. Scarcely nodding to the two adults, he rushed to Nick’s side. “Are you okay, little guy?”

“I have a boo-boo, Daddy.” The boy wiggled his leg.

With a grim shake of the head, Ethan glanced at Jenni. There was no sign of lightheartedness about him now. “Well?”

She hoped he wasn’t going to overreact to a minor childhood mishap. In her experience, take-charge fathers who hated losing control often demanded unnecessary treatments. Still, she knew his response stemmed from love. “I was just beginning my examination.”

Reluctantly, Ethan stepped back. “Go ahead.”

Jenni washed her hands at the sink, then bent over the boy. “Tell me how it happened,” she said as she examined the wound more closely.

“I was riding my bike on the sidewalk.”

“In shorts?” Ethan demanded of his mother.

“I didn’t realize he’d gone outside,” she answered without sounding defensive. “Ethan, he’s not made of eggshells.”

“He got hurt, didn’t he?” The chief waved one hand apologetically. “I’m sorry, Mom. It’s just that when they gave me your message, I thought the injury might be serious.”

“I understand,” she replied.

Jenni asked more questions, establishing that the sidewalk recently had been washed and that Mrs. Forrest hadn’t found any dirt or bike oil in the wound. “It’s not necessarily bad that he was wearing shorts,” she said. “Fabric can harbor bacteria, and if it gets pushed into a cut, it’s bad news. Puncture wounds through sneakers are particularly nasty. You wouldn’t believe what grows in some people’s shoes.” For Nick’s sake, she added, “It makes them stink, too. Peeuw.”

He wrinkled his nose and grinned. The sweetness in his face touched her.

Jenni cleaned the wound again. Normally, the nurse would have done this. However, Jenni saw no reason to interrupt Yvonne’s time with her baby, and besides, she wanted to make it clear she took a personal interest in her patients.

“I can apply an ointment if you like, but frankly, it might delay healing,” she told her audience. “I don’t recommend stitches for a scrape like this, since it’s so shallow.”

“Aren’t you going to cover it?” Ethan inquired.

“I will if he’ll be playing outside again,” Jenni answered. “Otherwise, it’s best to expose it to air.”

“I’ll keep him inside,” Mrs. Forrest said.

“Does it hurt?” Jenni asked Nick.

He straightened like a miniature version of his tough-guy Dad. “I can take it.”

“That bad?” she queried.

“Not really,” the boy admitted. “It used to sting, but it’s okay now.”

“You’re a very brave young man. I think you’re going to be fine.”

“Whoa.” Ethan gave her a disbelieving stare. “What about a prescription?”

She remembered his mother’s statement about Dr. Allen. “Antibiotics aren’t recommended in a case like this. Overuse causes them to lose their effectiveness and there can be side effects. But if he develops any pus or the skin becomes red, warm or swollen, or it starts hurting badly, I’ll be glad to prescribe some.”

“That’s it?” the chief asked. “I could have treated him this well myself!”

“I know you’re used to a different approach with Dr. Luther,” she responded. “Times change and so does medical care. We’ve learned that in minor cases like this, sometimes nature is the best healer.”

“I like you better than Dr. Luther,” Nick announced.

“You do? And I haven’t even offered you a sugar-free lollipop yet!” Jenni joked.

“Why do you like Dr. Vine better?” Ethan regarded his son.

“She talks to me and not just the grown-ups.” To Jenni, Nick said, “Do you have any lemon pops?”

“Let me see.” She searched in a drawer. “Sure thing.” After handing him one, she offered a sampling of flavors to Ethan and his mother.

“I don’t mind if I do.” Annette chose cherry.

Ethan tried to keep a straight face, but he couldn’t. “I haven’t had one of these in years,” he admitted, and selected lime.

Jenni relaxed. Apparently, the chief had decided to bow to her expertise. Considering his obvious worry over his son, that meant a lot. “We’ve got coloring books, too.” She gave Nick one about healthy foods.

“You’re good with children,” Annette commented.

“I love kids.” Jenni enjoyed treating them as part of her practice. She hoped the next doctor to be hired would be an obstetrician rather than a pediatrician, although she did want the kids to get the best possible care.

“According to the grapevine, you’re looking for an apartment,” the woman went on.

“Mom!” Ethan’s voice sank to a growl.

Jenni didn’t know what was going on here. Still, she figured she ought to stay out of it. “I’m sure I’ll find one eventually,” she replied, and turned to the chart. “In case of emergency, I need to be sure we have up-to-date contact information.” The Allens hadn’t double-checked phone numbers and addresses for years, she’d discovered earlier. “Is this correct?” She read off the phone numbers for Ethan and Annette.

Both nodded.

“Is there anyone else?” Jenni didn’t want to be too blunt, but omitting one parent seemed strange. “A child’s whole family is important.”

“There isn’t anyone.” Annette glanced at her grandson. However, he was absorbed in looking through his coloring book. “My husband and daughter-in-law both passed away some time ago.”

“I’m sorry.” So Ethan was a widower. Jenni felt a wave of sympathy for the man and child who’d lost so much.

This didn’t make her like him any better, though. In fact, it made her wary, because with his judgmental nature, he probably compared every woman he met with his deceased spouse.

“Speaking of families, didn’t your parents object to your moving so far away?” Annette asked. “They must worry about you.”

“My parents?” That was almost funny, although Jenni didn’t suppose it would strike anyone else that way. “They’re not the sort of people who worry about others, I’m afraid.”

“You’d be surprised,” the older woman said. “Maybe they’re afraid you’d resent it if they showed how much they cared.”

“If they cared, they could have stuck around when I was a kid.” Hearing her edgy tone, she added, “Sorry. That was inappropriate.”

Ethan looked puzzled. His mother wore a determined expression. “I knew you were the right person to rent the flat over my garage! If you haven’t got a family, you should at least live close to one.”

So that was what the two had been clashing about earlier. Jenni peeked at Ethan, but he was studying his son. “That might be awkward, since your grandson is my patient.”

“Awkward? Having a doctor on the premises would be reassuring,” Annette countered. “Besides, everyone in town is likely to be your patient at one time or another. And it’s furnished, which I believe you need, since you didn’t ship any furniture.”

“How do you know that?” Jenni asked in amazement.

“My mother is friends with Gwen Martin, who owns the café, and half the town shows up there to gab.” Ethan’s gruffness couldn’t disguise his affection. “Between the two of them, they know almost everything that happens around here.”

“That’s a little scary.” Anonymity had become Jenni’s friend over the years. The fewer people who learned about her family, the better, and getting away from vicious rumors had been one of her reasons for moving to Downhome.

“If you’re my renter, I promise we won’t gossip about you,” Mrs. Forrest said. “I only live three blocks from the Lowells, so you can stop by anytime. The house faces Jackson Park.”

Jenni had walked by the park several times and enjoyed the relaxed, old-fashioned setting. The lush greenery, like much of the Tennessee landscape, soothed her after the hard urban surfaces of L.A. “It isn’t the beautiful Victorian with the window boxes, is it?”

Annette nodded. Ethan shook his head, but he was obviously joking. “She failed to mention that the apartment overlooks my backyard.”

Uh-oh. She’d have the police chief for a neighbor? Not good.

“Can I get back to you on that?” she asked Annette.

“Of course.”

“Take your time,” the police chief said. “Months, if necessary.”

“Ethan, where are your manners?” demanded his mother. “You’ve hurt Dr. Vine’s feelings.”

“No, he hasn’t,” she assured them.

“I know how it feels to be an outsider,” Annette persisted. “When my husband and I moved to Nashville—he worked for a religious publishing company—it took the longest time for me to make friends. Jenni, the least you can do is look at the place.”

“I can’t…”

“Surely you’re curious about the house!” Mrs. Forrest teased. “You’ve acknowledged that you noticed it.”

Jenni smiled. “Yes, but I really can’t come tonight. Karen Lowell is having some friends over for a potluck. Kind of a welcome party for me.”

Apparently satisfied that he’d won the day, Ethan lifted a radiant Nick onto his shoulders. “We men are going to go take care of the bill,” he told his mother. “See you in a few minutes.”

“Giddyap!” the little boy cried, then looked self-conscious.

At age five, he was already feeling too grown up to act like a toddler, Jenni realized.

Annette beamed at the pair as they exited, both ducking to clear the doorway. “I can’t believe my grandbaby’s going to start first grade in September.”

Instinctively wanting to keep her hands occupied, Jenni straightened the examining room. If there’d been patients waiting, Yvonne would have alerted her, so she could afford to linger. “I’m sorry to hear his mother’s deceased.”

“Martha was a beautiful girl and a wonderful singer. She bowled Ethan over,” Annette said. “Nick was only a few months old when she died.”

“That must have been terrible.” Not wanting to pry into Ethan’s personal life, Jenni veered from that subject by focusing on Annette. “You probably weren’t expecting to take on child-raising duties again.”

“No, but it’s worth it,” she said. “I’d do the same to help my daughter, Brianna, Ethan’s younger sister. She just went through a nasty divorce and I’d love for her to move here.”

“I’m sorry about the divorce.” Jenni hadn’t expected so many confidences. “If she does come back, she might need the apartment.”

“I don’t see it happening anytime soon. I’d like you to take a look at the place.”

Annette obviously wasn’t an easy woman to dissuade.

“The offer’s open. Drop by any time.”

“Thanks,” she replied.

After Annette left, a glance at the clock showed it was after five o’clock. Jenni gathered her purse, helped Yvonne close the office and went out to the compact car she’d leased.

Tonight ought to be fun, a chance to let down her hair and get to know some other women. Karen had promised that they’d give her the lowdown on the singles’ scene.

Jenni didn’t want to start dating anytime soon, though. Ethan already considered her a husband-stealing flirt, and for some reason, she wanted to disprove his low opinion.

The prospect of living next door to him made her shudder. No one could stand up to that kind of scrutiny, especially if she was being compared with an idealized wife.

Yet an image lingered of him carrying the little boy on his shoulders, two pairs of dark eyes shining and two sets of white teeth flashing. It made Jenni long for something she’d never had and probably never would have.

Pushing away the thought, she headed for the Lowells’ house.