Читать книгу The Good Doctor - Karen Smith Rose - Страница 8

Violet drove up to the main house on the Double Crown Ranch the following morning, parking in front of a garden where sage plants and ornamental grasses grew. She was worried. By nature, she hated lying, even by omission. Yet she owed Ryan confidentiality and couldn’t tell Lily where the two of them had been last night. She wished Ryan would tell his wife about his symptoms and that Peter was going to have an MRI arranged.

Peter.

Shaking her head, as if that could rid her thoughts of the neurosurgeon, Violet walked through the arched entryway and opened the wrought-iron gate. A curved stone walkway led through the outer courtyard where native plants and rocks were arranged in a miniature arroyo. Flowering vines perfumed the area as she mounted the steps that led to a wide wooden door in the covered entryway.

At her knock, Rosita Perez opened the door. Pleasantly plump, dressed in a peasant blouse and a long gauzy skirt, she patted her bun as if to make certain it was still there, then smiled.

“You’re right on time. Lanie Meyers isn’t here yet. Traffic from Austin could be keeping her. But Mr. Ryan and Lily are waiting in the inner courtyard. Come on and I’ll get you a cup of coffee.”

This brunch had been planned since last week. Next month the governor would be honoring Ryan with his presence at Steven’s new ranch. The gala was already being organized. The governor’s daughter, Lanie, acting as an emissary for her father, would be coming to brunch to tell Ryan and Lily how glad she was that Ryan was being honored with the Hensley-Robinson Award. It was a preliminary meeting to fill in the Fortunes on some of the arrangements, and Lily had invited Violet to join them.

The foyer of Ryan’s ranch house opened up into a great room with a high, beamed ceiling.

As Rosita showed her through the room, Violet asked, “How’s Savannah?” Savannah was married to Cruz Perez, Rosita’s son. The couple had a five-year-old and were expecting another child soon.

Rosita smiled. “She’s doing well now after that premature labor scare. She just has to take it easy, and Cruz is making sure she does that. I help out with Luke whenever I can.”

“Tell her I hope to see her soon and that I wish her and Cruz well.”

Giving Violet’s hand a little squeeze, Rosita nodded, then opened one of the wood-framed glass doors that led into the inner courtyard. Violet loved the area where a fountain bubbled and an old-fashioned swing stood under a vine-covered arbor. Descending the few steps, she headed toward one of the glass-topped tables.

Right away she could feel the tension. Whatever Ryan and Lily had been discussing had put a frown on Lily’s face. Had he told his wife he was at Peter Clark’s last night?

However, Violet soon knew that wasn’t the case because Ryan gave her a barely perceptible shake of his head.

Spotting Violet, Lily quickly replaced her frown with a smile. At fifty-nine, she was still beautiful. Her Apache and Spanish heritage had given her high cheekbones and large dark eyes framed by thick lashes. She had a wonderful figure and wore her hair in a shiny bob a little longer than Violet’s own hair. She was wearing white slacks today with a colorful striped sweater.

“I’m so glad you could join us this morning.” She gave Violet a hug, which Violet affectionately returned. Always comfortable with Lily, she could usually talk to her easily. That was why it would be so hard to hide anything from her.

Ryan gave Violet a hug, too, as Lily asked, “So how did you like that horse Ryan took you to see last night? He tells me it’s a Morgan, brown with a white blaze.”

Violet’s thoughts seemed jumbled as she tried to come up with an appropriate response. Fortunately, just then, the chime of the doorbell could be heard in the courtyard.

As Rosita hurried away, Lily poured a cup of coffee for Violet from a silver serving set. “That should be the governor’s daughter.” Forgetting the horse her husband had mentioned, Lily motioned to the coffee. “You take it black with sugar, right?”

“Sure do. Coffee in the lounge at the hospital is usually strong and stale. The sugar helps. I’ve gotten used to it that way.”

Lily motioned Violet to a seat and placed the cup of coffee there. “We are definitely creatures of habit, maybe too much so.” Her gaze shot to Ryan.

His mouth tightened and some unspoken message seemed to pass between them.

Hearing footsteps, Violet turned and saw Lanie Myers coming down the steps. She was a beauty and, from what Lily had told her, often in the society pages with her blond hair, blue eyes and voluptuous figure. She had a reputation for being a bit wild, at least that was what the gossip columnists said.

After greetings all around, Lanie joined them at the table.

Ryan asked good naturedly, “How’s your father’s reelection campaign going?”

“It’s going,” she observed in a wry tone that made everyone laugh. “Well, it is,” she added with a little shrug. “I don’t know how he does it, shaking all those hands, trying to please so many people. I just got back from a shopping trip in L.A., so I escaped the fray for a while.”

When Violet gave the former debutante an appraisal, she noted Lanie’s cream halter dress shouted designer label all the way. “Do you ever fly to New York to shop?”

Lanie took a few sips of the orange juice Rosita had placed before her. “I love New York—not only the shopping, but the shows. I try to get there a few times a year. Lily told me you live there. It must be wonderful to have access to the theater district, the symphony and ballet all the time.”

“It is, and I should take advantage of it more. But I don’t.”

“Violet’s a neurologist,” Lily interjected. “When she’s not tied up with patients, she’s writing articles. She also sits on the board for a battered women’s shelter.”

“You have a terrifically serious life,” Lanie mused. “No wonder you don’t have much time for the theater.”

“Violet’s mother, Lacey, has been fighting for worthwhile causes since she was a young woman,” Lily explained. “That couldn’t help but rub off on Violet.”

Lily was right about that, Violet thought. Her mother was still fighting for causes she believed in. When she was growing up, Violet had mistakenly believed that her mom’s causes were more important than her family. But she’d been wrong about that. It had taken a crisis to prove to her that both of her parents as well as her brothers valued her more than anything else in their lives. Her experience at fifteen might have made her reticent to become involved in intimate relationships, but it had also made her realize she truly wasn’t alone.

Deflecting conversation from her life, Violet said, “We’re so excited Ryan’s getting the Hensley-Robinson Award. My brother can’t wait to host the party.”

“He recently married, didn’t he? My mother mentioned that.”

“Yes, a few days ago.”

Although Ryan had been fairly quiet up until this point, now he added, “Violet has another brother who got married the same day. When will Jessica and Clyde be back from their honeymoon?”

“Next week some time. The woman my brother Clyde married was a friend of mine. I can’t wait until she gets back so we can really visit.”

“After the experience she had, she and Clyde deserve a long honeymoon.” Lily went on to explain to Lanie how Jessica had been stalked and how Clyde had apprehended the man.

As Rosita served brunch, the conversation flowed easily. Lanie filled them in on details of the gala her father would be attending and the security measures that would be taken.

They’d finished the fruit tart and were enjoying more coffee when Rosita appeared in the courtyard again and stood beside Ryan. “Chuck called from the barn. He said that horse you’re going to gentle just rolled in.”

Ryan looked torn as if he wanted to go down to the barn, yet knew he should stay because of Lanie.

Obviously sensing his predicament, she smiled. “Mr. Fortune, if you need to leave, that’s fine. I have to be going myself. I have an appointment back in Austin this afternoon.”

As she rose, so did Ryan. “Are you sure you have to leave so soon? My foreman can unload the horse.”

“Really, I must be going,” Lanie said. “It was nice to meet you, Violet.”

After goodbyes all around, Ryan said, “I’ll walk you out.” Then he gave Lily a quick kiss and escorted the governor’s daughter through the great room. After Rosita cleared the table except for the coffee, she took the tray of dishes to the kitchen.

Lily gave Violet a weak smile that told Violet brunch had been an effort. “That young woman doesn’t seem to have a path to her life,” Lily commented.

“Maybe some women don’t need one.”

“I found my path when I married Ryan.” That troubled look came over Lily’s face again. “But I wouldn’t change one curve or twist in the path. Sometimes I wonder if Ryan would, though.”

“I don’t understand.”

“I’m worried about him. He had a call from the police again this morning. They want him to come in for more questions. I wish they’d understand he didn’t even know Christopher Jamison. Why can’t they see he’d never hurt anyone?”

That was the question of a loyal wife, but Violet knew the authorities had their own agenda. The link between the Fortunes and Jamisons hadn’t been made public, but there was one. She just hoped that the authorities would soon find the murderer of Christopher Jamison and that Ryan would be cleared.

“The two of you usually draw together when there’s a crisis,” Violet reminded Lily.

“Up until now. But Ryan’s so unpredictable sometimes. For the past few months he leaves and doesn’t tell me where he’s going. I’m beginning to wonder—”

Her voice caught and Violet could see tears well up in Lily’s eyes. One thing she was sure of—Ryan Fortune adored his wife and would never be unfaithful to her.

“Maybe he doesn’t tell you because he doesn’t know where he’s going to go. Maybe he just needs time alone to decompress. Have you talked to him about it?”

“Yes, but he just gives me flimsy excuses.”

“Maybe they seem flimsy because he’s not hiding anything.”

“I hope that’s true,” Lily said fervently.

Since Ryan was hiding his symptoms from his wife, that was why Lily suspected he wasn’t being truthful. Maybe soon that would change. After the MRI, she hoped Ryan would tell Lily about his headaches and they could get their marriage back on a strong footing again. They might need to for whatever came next.

When Jason Jamison opened the door to his “mansion,” he considered why he’d bought it when he moved to San Antonio. It was befitting the station in life he intended to rise to. The second reason, just as important, was that Melissa had liked it. She might have been a cocktail waitress, but she had damn good taste.

Noticing the security alarm was off, he realized she must be at home. It was early for him to get home, not even six-thirty. He made a point of working late at Fortune TX, Ltd. so he looked like a go-getter, so he caught Ryan Fortune’s attention, so he could put everything into the plan that was coming to fruition.

When he heard the upstairs shower running, he dropped his briefcase in the marble-floored foyer and hurried up the wide sweeping staircase. His footsteps were muffled by the plush carpeting, and he liked the idea of surprising Melissa. He didn’t like surprises but he liked taking others off guard. He especially looked forward to surprising Ryan Fortune.

He was working on a plan to bring down Ryan and get the revenge his grandfather had always wanted. His grandpa Farley was the only one who had understood him and paid attention to him. During his visits to Farley Jamison’s cabin, Jason had been a rapt listener when his grandfather related tales of Iowan politics. Farley’s own children and wife had abandoned him. Although they were connected by blood, Kingston Fortune hadn’t wanted anything to do with him, either. Someone had to carry on his grandfather’s legacy. Farley had always believed it was because of the Fortunes that he was living his life in a beat-up shack, and he’d convinced Jason to believe it, too.

But Jason had to figure the best way to get what he wanted. With a new face, he was unrecognizable to relatives. Creating a different identity and going under the name of Jason Wilkes, he could accomplish anything.

As he walked down the hall, he took off his suit jacket and loosened his tie. One of his teachers in high school had called him a sociopath. If stabbing a friend and lying to get what he wanted made him that, he didn’t mind the label. His conscience didn’t bother him one whit that he’d killed Christopher. They’d always been like Cain and Abel, the angel and the devil. So much for angels, he thought, as he remembered dumping his brother’s body into Lake Mondo.

After he stepped into the luxuriously furnished bedroom, Jason tossed his tie and suitcoat over a fuchsia chair, hurriedly unbuttoned his shirt and threw that to the pile, too. He couldn’t wait to get his hands on Melissa. He couldn’t wait to feel her hands on him. She knew how to do things—

Flipping off his Italian loafers, ridding himself of his socks, he unbuckled his belt as he went through the dressing room into the bathroom. There was a sunken tub, but his gaze went straight to the shower where he could see the shadow of Melissa’s body behind the frosted glass door.

Before he could open it, she turned off the water and stepped out.

“Jason!” she yelped.

“That’s me,” he said with a smile that was supposed to convey his intentions.

It must have done just that because she shook her head, her bleached blond hair falling in wet tendrils across her shoulders. She hadn’t dried off and she looked sleek and more than ready for what he had in mind.

However, she nipped his desire before he could act on it. “I can’t. Not now. I’m already running late. I have a meeting at seven-thirty.”

“What meeting?” he demanded to know.

“A group of us is getting together to plan a clothing drive for the teen shelter at Christmas.”

“All this charity work you’re doing is getting tedious, and I’m beginning to wonder why you’re doing it.”

Still dripping wet, Melissa came very close to Jason. “Aren’t we pretending to be an up-and-coming married couple?”

“Yes, but—”

She put a slim finger on his chin and studied him with her brown eyes. “No buts. Just as you’re setting up Ryan to take the fall for mistakes in his company, I’m planting a few seeds of my own.”

“And they are?”

“You’ll see.” With the same finger that had played on his chin, she traced his right cheekbone. “How is your project coming?”

“It’s moving along. Fortune TX, Ltd. is spending money on a phony oil deal and Ryan’s fingerprints are going to be all over it.”

“Do you really think they’ll kick Ryan off the board of directors?”

“That’s what I’m hoping.”

Gazing into Melissa’s eyes, Jason saw a flicker of something. What was it? Was she planning something on her own? How would that affect him?

Melissa never let him get too close or see too far inside. Now her hand settled on his chest then slipped lower, over his navel and inside the waistband of his trousers. “Maybe I do have ten minutes,” she murmured with a wide-eyed, sultry look that aroused him to a painful level.

Taking the foreplay out of her hands, he scooped her into his arms. She was wet and wild and hot.

“Ten minutes,” she warned him as he carried her into the bedroom.

He dropped her on the bed, let his trousers fall, pushed down his briefs and stretched out on top of her.

“It’ll take what it’s going to take, and your meeting be damned.”

When he saw the look of triumph in her eyes, he knew this was what she’d wanted all along. As she opened her legs to him and kissed him like there was no tomorrow, he had to wonder who really had the power here.

He was going to get it back…one way or another.

It was almost 4:00 p.m. on Tuesday when Peter finally got the chance to call Violet Fortune. Still in his scrubs, he used the phone in the doctor’s lounge. As her cell phone rang, he didn’t have to use many memory cells to conjure up her face. He’d been thinking about her too damn much since she’d left last night, and he didn’t like the invasion into his usually ordered thoughts.

There were several reasons why she should be off-limits for him. Number one—he no longer dated women whose career demands consumed their lives. He’d gone that route once before, and once in a lifetime down that particular road was enough. Number two—not only did Violet Fortune have a demanding career, but the career was in New York. In a few weeks, she’d return to New York City and pick up her life where she’d left it. Long-distance relationships didn’t work. His life, family and future were here in Red Rock. Number three—Violet Fortune rocked his world a little too much. He liked to be in control. Last night, being around her had thrown him off balance. It was an odd feeling that hadn’t happened to him before, not even with his ex-fiancée Sandra.

“Hello,” came a breathless voice after the fourth ring.

“Violet? It’s Peter Clark.”

“Oh, Peter. Hi.”

He heard the rustle of bags. “Did I catch you at a bad time?”

“No, this is fine. I was just setting down the groceries. I stopped at the store on the way back from the Double Crown.”

“You saw Ryan today?”

“Yes. I had brunch with him and Lily and the governor’s daughter. But we didn’t have a chance to talk. Lily’s so worried about him. She sees the stress he’s under. She and I went riding this afternoon and I’m afraid she’s imagining all kinds of things.”

“Hopefully, soon we can put both of their minds to rest. My colleague in Houston has made arrangements for Ryan’s MRI on Saturday. We have to be there by ten. Since our appointment with him for the results is later in the day, I’m wondering if we should stay in Houston overnight. Ryan might be tired. Can you talk to him about it and see how he feels? I can clear my schedule to drive back Sunday morning. One of my partners can cover for me.”

“With no questions asked?”

“With no questions asked.”

A multitude of questions raced through his head concerning Violet. He wondered what her life had been like growing up with Lacey and Patrick Fortune and four brothers. As the only daughter, had she been a tomboy? Somehow he doubted that.

“I’ll talk to Ryan,” Violet assured him. “He mentioned that he and Lily will be attending a fund-raiser for San Juan Hospital at the Madison Hotel on Friday night. He told me the money would be used for high-tech equipment in the pediatrics wing that’s a memorial to your mother.”

“Ryan and Lily have always been supportive of fund-raising attempts for the pediatrics wing. Lily was instrumental in helping me launch the first fund drive.”

Despite the good cause, this was one event Peter didn’t want to be reminded of, thanks to his sisters and that god-awful bachelor auction. In spite of himself, he couldn’t help asking, “Will you be attending the fund-raiser with them?”

“I’m thinking about it. My brother Miles is one of the bachelors being auctioned off.”

“I wonder who bribed him,” Peter grumbled.

“Uh-oh,” she said with a laugh. “Does that mean somebody bribed you?”

“No, with me it was blackmail. My sisters warned me that if I didn’t volunteer, they’d list my name in the personal ads on the Internet.”

When Violet began laughing again, he liked the sound of it. He didn’t feel at all as if she were laughing at him, but rather laughing with him.

Finally, she said, “Thank you, Peter. That felt good. I haven’t had much to smile about lately.”

“Because you’re worried about Ryan?”

“Yes.” She paused then went on, “I came to Red Rock to get away from my practice for a little while.”

“That burnout we discussed?”

There was more silence and he suddenly wondered if she’d confided in anyone about her real reasons for coming to Red Rock. Irrationally, he wanted her to confide in him.

“Yes.”

When she didn’t go on, he said, “Burnout happens.”

“I guess it does, but this time when I lost a patient, not only her husband questioned my judgment. I did, too.”

“You’re a perfectionist,” he said kindly, without criticism.

“Aren’t you?” she shot back. “Don’t we have to be?”

The first day they’d talked, he’d felt a bond with Violet because of Ryan. Now he realized they had another bond, too—their work. “We have to use our skill the best way we know how. We can be perfectionists but we’re not God.”

When she took a deep breath, he heard it. As doctors, they had power, but sometimes they didn’t realize their power was finite.

“You’re right, of course,” she murmured. “And usually I take what happens in stride. For the past couple of months I haven’t been able to do that. I took a cruise to get some perspective.”

“Did it help?”

“It was a distraction but no, it didn’t help.”

“Maybe once we know what’s going on with Ryan you’ll find perspective again.”

“Maybe.” She sounded doubtful.

Peter’s pager beeped. “I’m being paged,” he said to Violet. “Hold on a minute.”

Seeing the extension number, he knew he had to go. “I have to check on a patient, Violet.”

“I know the sound of a pager when I hear it,” she assured him with complete understanding. “I’ll talk to Ryan and one of us will be in contact with you.”

In spite of the conversation they’d just had, Peter hoped that person would be Ryan. Violet Fortune was simply too interesting, too intriguing and too beautiful for his peace of mind.

However, when he said goodbye, he wondered if she would be at the bachelor auction Friday night.

Whether she was or wasn’t didn’t matter. He was going to sleepwalk through it, get it over with and take whoever bought him to the Riverwalk the following weekend. That would be his contribution to charity.

Giving up fistfuls of money would be a hell of a lot easier.

As Peter headed to the third floor to answer his page, he couldn’t sweep Violet from his thoughts. At least not until he stopped at the nurses’ desk in Pediatric ICU, learned which patient needed him and went down the hall to Celeste Bowlan’s room. The six-year-old was crying and nothing the nurses tried could console her. For whatever reason, Peter’s presence always seemed to calm her. He strode toward her bed now, his heart going out to the little orphan with the straggly straight black hair, bangs and huge dark eyes.

“Hey there,” he said softly. “Nurse Carmelita told me you’re having a bad day.”

When Celeste turned her tearstained face to his, he saw her desolation and sorrow. Over a year ago she’d been staying with a babysitter when her parents, who had gone out for the evening, had been involved in a three-car pileup. They’d both died on impact.

Celeste had been entered into the system and placed with a foster family. But her foster family hadn’t cherished her as her parents had. Apparently her foster father had been a closet alcoholic who’d been driving drunk with Celeste in the car. They’d been in an accident, and Celeste’s back had been fractured. Along with spinal injuries, a lung had collapsed, and she’d experienced belly trauma. Peter was going to operate to fuse her spine, but he had to wait until she was more stable.

The social worker on Celeste’s case had told him she wouldn’t be going back to that foster family, but another hadn’t been found yet. Unable to walk and absolutely alone in the world, she was desolate with good reason. He tried to visit her as often as he could.

Pulling up a chair beside her bed, he brushed a few tears from her cheek. “Come on now. Let’s see if you can stop crying so we can talk.”

Sedated and on pain meds, Celeste was groggy. Slowly she complained, “You didn’t come in all day.”

He felt a stab of guilt, but he really hadn’t had a spare moment.

“I know, but I had patients to see. They need help just as you do. I was going to come in tonight, though. I promised, remember? You said you’d pick out two books and I was going to read both of them to you.”

“Will you still come tonight?”

He had to smile. If Celeste could get two visits out of this, she was going to do that.

“Sure, I’ll come back later.” He heard the med cart being pushed by a nurse rattle across the tile in the hall. “First I just have to grab something to eat and make some phone calls.”

Her face fell and he saw tears well up again.

“On the other hand, I could buy a sandwich from the vending machine and eat it here,” he said. “Then you can tell me what videos you watched today.”

The room had a VCR, and Peter could see from the stack on the table that the nurses had picked out quite a few for Celeste. “I’ll be back as soon as I find some food.”

“Promise?” she asked.

He held up his hand like a Boy Scout. “I promise.”

All at once his conversation with Violet came to mind, and he remembered what she’d told him about being burnt out. Maybe she would consider spending some time with Celeste. A woman with time on her hands might be just what the little girl needed. He’d broach that subject when they took Ryan for his tests or if she came to the fund-raiser Friday evening.

Insisting to himself again that he didn’t care if she came or not, he went on a search for supper.