Читать книгу A Doctor's Vow - Linda Ford, Lois Richer - Страница 12

Chapter Three

“I’m begging, Pete. I know you’re full-time at the mine, but I just need a couple of hours of your time. That’s all.”

Jaclyn paused in the doorway, struck by Kent’s tone. Were plumbers so hard to get? She hadn’t considered that. She’d figured Kent would pick up the phone, hire someone to do the renovation and she’d move in. But he sounded almost desperate.

“I didn’t realize you had an exclusivity clause. Maybe if you asked them to waive it, they’d let you help with the clinic. It’s for a good purpose, for our town’s benefit. That’s what their people promised when they begged us to let the mine in.” He paused for effect. “This would be a good opportunity to keep that promise.” There was silence as he listened. “I really appreciate it, Pete. Thanks.”

Not wanting to be caught eavesdropping, Jaclyn waited a few moments before she let the front door bang behind her. “Hello?”

“Hi.” Kent blinked at her. He was covered in a chalky dust that turned his dark hair gray. He’d been putting on goggles but now pulled them away, his blue eyes meeting hers. “Are you slumming?”

“Pretty fancy slum you’ve got here,” she teased.

“Not yet, but it will be if I can get it done.” He frowned. “Did you need something?”

“No. But I thought you might. I came to see if there was something I could help you with this evening.” Jaclyn made a face. “Emergency was busy today—an issue with the mine. I need to work off the stress. I figured if you were into demolition, I’d channel my energy into that. Have you eaten dinner?” She glanced around amazed by the mess he’d created.

“I haven’t had time for dinner.” Kent gave her pristine clothes a dark look. “You can’t work here dressed like that. Leave this to me, Jaclyn.”

“Nonsense. I make a perfectly good gofer assistant and I can clean with the best of them. Besides, I’ve got the clothes issue covered. But first we eat. Deal?” She waited for his nod before setting down the two bags she’d carried in. She removed containers of Chinese food from one. “Come on. Let’s sample this while it’s hot.”

At first it seemed as if Kent would refuse. Maybe he was used to working alone, or maybe he thought she’d get in his way. Either way Jaclyn wasn’t going to let it dissuade her from pitching in.

“Thank you,” he said when she handed him a loaded plate of stir fried vegetables.

“Welcome.” She separated her chopsticks then speared a piece of pineapple. “Yum.”

“It is good. Thanks,” he said again, looking directly at her, his blue eyes bright.

“I don’t know if Chinese is rancher’s food but nobody in town has takeout steaks.” She giggled at his droll look. “I’m guessing by that kitchen of yours that Lisa was a gourmet cook.”

Kent’s hand froze halfway to his mouth, his face pale at the mention of his wife.

“I’m so sorry,” she said, feeling a fool. “I didn’t mean to bring back painful memories.”

“No, it’s okay.” He inhaled slowly then let out his pent-up breath before he spoke. “Lisa liked to cook if it was for entertaining—invite people over and she would go all out.”

“I remember some parties Lisa invited me to in high school. She was a fantastic hostess back then, and an amazing cook.” She watched the sadness of his face ease. “I suppose entertaining does provide an incentive to create. Not that I’d know. I can do basic cooking, which means I can open soup cans.” Jaclyn took a bite, waiting to see if Kent would continue talking about Lisa or if he would change the subject.

“What happened at the mine?” he asked. “Anything serious?”

Note to self, she thought: stop bringing up Lisa.

“A chemical explosion left burns on a number of miners. Emergency was swamped. This isn’t the day for the traveling doctors so the hospital asked me to help. There were no critical injuries, so that’s a blessing.” She shuddered. “I loathe treating burns.”

“Why?” Kent studied her with a puzzled look.

“Because of the pain. Kids or adults, it doesn’t matter. Burns are the worst for continued pain. After initial treatment there’s always the task of debrading the scar tissue to allow new tissue to grow—very time-consuming and more pain for the patient.” She blinked. “As a firefighter, you probably know that.”

“Since I’ve been on the job we’ve never had anyone badly burned, thank heaven.” Kent said.

“That’s lucky. Now—” Jaclyn lifted out a surprise “—I scored this from the bakery. Are you interested?”

“Who wouldn’t be interested in key lime pie?” Kent raised an eyebrow when she cut a slice.

“What?” She studied the piece then chuckled. “Too small? Well, okay then.” Jaclyn whacked out a much larger hunk of pie with her plastic knife. “Better?”

“Much better. Thank you.” He dug in with relish.

“I’ll have to jog for hours after this.” She tasted her pie and sighed.

“You can join Zac. He’s always jogging.” Kent told her about their other school friend, Nick, and she shared the latest on her best friends Shay and Brianna.

“I remember Shay was offered some kind of contract just after her dad lost his job,” Kent said.

“Modeling, yes. She felt she couldn’t decline it because they needed the money so badly. Her father was broke. But he’s gone now and she’s finishing her physiotherapy degree. And Brianna is a practicing psychologist now in Chicago.”

Kent finished his pie and added the plate and plastic fork to his garbage load.

“Both Shay and Brianna have gone through tough times.” Jaclyn gnawed on her lower lip. “It’s difficult to understand why things happen. Sometimes it seems to me that God expects too much of us humans.”

“I’ll second that.” The words spilled out of Kent in a rush of bitterness.

“I’m sure you miss Lisa,” she said before she could stop herself. So much for not bringing her up.

He nodded, accepted the cup of coffee she offered and they drank in silence for a while.

“I’m on call tonight so I might have to take off at any moment. We’d better get to work.” She cleaned up the remains from their meal then met his gaze. “What can I do to help?”

“It’s not necessary, really, Jaclyn.” Kent glanced at her clothes again then quickly busied himself donning his mask and gloves. “The meal was more than enough.”

Jaclyn let him go back to work then put on the white paper coveralls she’d brought, along with gloves and a mask. She began tapping the wall, trying to imitate Kent’s motions on the plaster surface. She must have tapped too hard because huge chunks dropped down at her feet.

“I’m not sure I need this much help,” he said, blue eyes twinkling.

“So tell me what I can do to help because I’m not going away.” She met his stare head-on, relieved when he finally gave a half nod.

“How about stripping the wallpaper?”

“I can do that.” She followed his directions and for the next hour worked feverishly, spraying, scrubbing and peeling away the old borders as she forced the stress from her mind and her muscles.

“How’s work going? Are you swamped yet?” Kent steadily removed the damaged material from the walls, never missing a stroke as he spoke.

“Ha! I wish. My practice is on the way to failure. People won’t even look me in the eye when I meet them on the street. Especially since I asked about the church and how it could be restored.” She yanked extra hard on a strip of paper and smiled as the entire piece came loose. “At last.”

He shrugged. “It might take a while but you’ll break through their reserve.”

“When will that be?” she demanded. “The day after the clinic closes because I don’t have any patients?”

“It’s not that bad,” he muttered.

“You think not? A woman came into the hospital with a sick baby today. I tried to help, but the mom took the kid away, saying they’d drive to Las Cruces. You know how far that is, especially for a sick child?” Frustration leached through though she tried to suppress it. “If this continues, it won’t matter if I open this clinic or not.” She gulped down her panic. “I need patients, Kent.”

He put down his hammer and turned to her.

“I’m really sorry this is happening, Jaclyn. It must feel terrible to be treated like that when you’re just trying to help.”

“I don’t care about me,” she sputtered. “It’s the kids that matter. Their parents won’t let me help.”

“None of them?” His voice softened, flowing over her with compassion.

“Not many. Officially I have eleven juvenile patients on my books. Eleven, Kent, in a population of—what’s the population of Hope? Three thousand?” She clenched her left hand as tears welled in spite of her efforts to suppress them. “I came here because I’m trying to make sure no other kid gets missed like Jessica did. Why is that wrong?”

“It’s not wrong.” He rested a comforting hand on her shoulder. “It’s a wonderful, unselfish, kind and generous thing to do.”

“It can’t be that wonderful.” She dashed the tears away. “I know that God has a purpose for each of our lives, something only we can accomplish for him. I believe the clinic is my purpose. I’ve been praying about it for years. I’m here. I’m ready. So why doesn’t God help?”

* * *

If only Kent McCloy were privy to God’s thoughts.

“I don’t think I can explain God’s actions.” Kent lifted his hand off her delicate shoulder and turned so she couldn’t see his face. “I think I’m on a need-to-know basis with heaven.”

“Because of Lisa’s death, you mean?” Jaclyn sat down on an old sawhorse he’d brought from home, watching him carefully, her big brown eyes inviting him to share. “I can’t even imagine how hard it must have been for you. Do you want to talk about it?”

Hard didn’t begin to describe it, but no matter the release he might find sharing with Jaclyn, Kent wasn’t going to do it. He knew he was to blame. He didn’t want to watch the pity fill her eyes.

“No, I don’t.” That came off sounding harsh so he changed the subject back to her. “Eventually people will get to know you and realize your heart is right.” The last thing Hope needed was to lose yet another doctor. “Don’t give up.”

“Oh, I’m frustrated, Kent. But I’m a long way from giving up.” She rose, took another swipe at the wallpaper. “So how do I go about getting to know the people of Hope?”

“I’m not sure.” He carried a bucket of refuse out to the Dumpster. When he returned, Jaclyn was grinning. “What?”

“I have a great idea. I’m going to join some of their local groups. I can’t cook and I haven’t got a clue how to quilt, but if those groups exist here, I’ll join them.” Her chin lifted in determination. “You’ll have to tell me what kind of activities Hope offers because this place isn’t at all as I remember.”

“It’s the same place, but we’ve gone through some issues. When the town split over the mine almost two years ago, there were a lot of hard feelings. Cliques developed.” She frowned at him and he sought an example to illustrate his point. “Like there used to be a ladies’ aid society, but it’s for the pro ladies now,” he told her. “Pro meaning pro-mine. The ladies against the mine and the problems they thought it would bring to their families left that group and started their own. That one is called Hope Circle and it has no relationship with the other group.”

“Should I join one, or both?” She frowned, rubbing her chin.

“Don’t ask me. I don’t even know what they do in their meetings.” Kent shrugged. “I only know they do not do it together. We used to have a family bowling night. Everyone came out, brought their kids and had a great time together. Now we have the Christian night and the Followers’ night.”

“You’re kidding me,” Jaclyn said with a wry smile. Despite her messy work, she still looked as if she’d stepped out of a magazine. Her white paper suit did nothing to disguise her beauty.

“I wish I were kidding.” Kent forced his gaze off her. “The rift goes a lot deeper. Neighbors don’t talk to neighbors. Old friends don’t have coffee together. Fellow citizens bicker over fence lines and every other petty issue. It’s bad. They even insist on different services at the church. The place needs repair badly but nobody is willing to work with anybody else on it.” Talking about this made him feel worn-out. “I was a town councilor when it happened. Now I’m the mayor. It’s my fault things got so bad.”

“You feel responsible?” Jaclyn blinked at him. “Why?”

“I couldn’t find a way to mediate, to bring them together.” Painful reminders of arguments he’d interrupted, friends he’d tried to reunite and the bitterness underlying everything weighed on his soul. “In the end the town voted on it, the majority won and the mine went ahead, but the issues remain.”

“Democracy worked. How is that your fault?” When he stored his hammer in his toolkit, Jaclyn asked, “We’re finished for tonight?”

“I am. I’m beat. I had a very early morning.” Kent turned away as she shed her paper suit.

There was so much about this woman that spoke to him. Her beauty, her determination to give, her spunky grit in coming here to help him and her strength of purpose in keeping the vow she’d made her sister all demonstrated a woman filled with resolve and fortitude. Her determination astounded him—joining town groups after being virtually ostracized by the community was a gutsy move.

This was one amazing woman.

“There’s a long way to go with this place, isn’t there?” Her voice was quiet, almost solemn. She stood, holding the leftover pie, waiting for his answer as he locked the building.

“It’ll be tough, but it can be done.” Kent hoped he wasn’t going to regret saying that.

“But it’s costing you a lot. I should have considered that.” Under the streetlight, Jaclyn’s pale hair glowed like a halo around her heart-shaped face. “If you want to back out, tell me. I can find another way.”

“Can you?” Kent doubted it.

She looked so small, so delicate. A sudden urge to protect her from the gossip and the hurt she might endure overwhelmed him. Silly. He barely knew Jaclyn anymore.

And yet Kent did know her. He knew her heart was for her patients. He knew her commitment was total. After tonight he also knew her resolve was firm.

“I shouldn’t have asked you to do it. You have enough on your plate.” A tight little smile curved her very kissable mouth. “I don’t want to add to your burdens, Kent.”

“Too late.” He grinned. “I want to make this clinic happen, Jaclyn.” In that moment he realized it was true. “If they could forget their differences, the pristine countryside they’ve lost, the promises made and broken, the hurt feelings because they didn’t see things the same way—if they could only see that their differences are making us all weaker—” He sighed. “Maybe if they could unite in your clinic’s cause—well, I guess I see it as a sort of rallying point for people in Hope.”

“You do?” A fan of tiny smile lines appeared at the edge of her shining eyes. “How?”

“Your clinic isn’t part of the old system. It’s new, different. Maybe it can help undo past damage and end some of the bitterness. Maybe that’s God’s plan in all of this.” Kent had no business saying that since he wasn’t in touch with God anymore. But his idea about the clinic felt right.

“Thank you for saying that, Kent. I admit I was a little discouraged when I came here tonight, but I feel reenergized now. You can’t know how much that means to me.” She stood on tiptoe and brushed her lips against his cheek before shoving the pie at him. “You’re a wonderful man, Kent. Lisa would be proud of you. Good night.” Jaclyn got into her car and drove away.

Lisa would be proud of you.

The surge of hope Kent had experienced drained away. Lisa wouldn’t be proud. She would know he was trying to make up for past mistakes. She would recognize that he was trying to redeem himself by getting this clinic up and running.

As if you could redeem yourself for causing your wife’s death.

God has a purpose for each of our lives, something only we can accomplish for him. The clinic is my purpose. Jaclyn’s words echoed inside his head as he drove the familiar route home.

What’s my purpose, God?

But as he pulled up to his house, memories of the past crowded out whatever answers God might have whispered.

If only Kent could have a chance to start fresh, like Jaclyn. He’d do so many things differently.

Maybe if he worked hard enough on her clinic, he could finally rise above his regrets.