Читать книгу A Wife For Dr. Sam - Phyllis Halldorson, Phyllis Halldorson - Страница 9

Kirsten was wakened the following morning by a loud, piercing noise that brought her to a sitting position before she even had her eyes open.

What on earth was that? She blinked to chase away the sleep-induced fog and looked at her watch. Five o’clock! What was waking her up so early? It was barely light out.

The combination screech and yodel sounded again, but this time she recognized it as the crow of a rooster. She ran her fingers through her hair and snuggled back down into the comfortable double bed in the guest room of Buck Buckley’s house.

It was a nice room, small but clean and starkly furnished in strictly male decor. A brass lamp and a serviceable alarm clock sat on the bedside chest, and a large framed print of a Remington cowboy scene hung on the dark wood wall above the bed. Directly across the room was a double chest of drawers with a wide mirror.

Kirsten sighed and closed her eyes again as the rooster continued to crow. She’d been exhausted when she went to bed the night before, but also too wrought up to sleep.

Damn Sam Lawford anyway! He’d had her totally off balance ever since their cars had collided. He’d made her feel alternately scared, guilty, anxious, angry, sorry and incompetent, and that was just in the half hour they’d spent together right after the accident.

She’d managed to calm down after arriving at the Buckley home, seeing her dear friend, Coralie, again and being welcomed into the bosom of her family. It had been so exciting that she’d even forgotten to report the accident to her insurance company, but then Dr. Sam had shown up and set her off again.

The man seemed to know exactly which buttons to push to scramble her wits! They’d finally gotten that confrontation untangled and were making friendly conversation and getting acquainted when he’d delivered her to her door and dropped that final bombshell.

Kirsten groaned and turned on her stomach to bury her face in the pillow and try to shut out the memory. Never had she been so mortified, or so furious, all at the same time. She wouldn’t have believed there was room in her 125-pound body to contain such a storm of emotion.

How could he have misunderstood her friendly overture so completely? All she’d intended was to have a quiet chat over a cup of coffee, so they could iron out any remaining wrinkles in their ill-fated friendship. She’d figured she owed him that much since she was guilty of damaging his expensive car. What had she said or done to make him think she was trying to seduce him?

Either he was an egomaniac or an idiot, and she suspected it was both!

Rolling onto her back again she stretched both arms over her head. She’d been so upset when she went to bed the previous night that she hadn’t been able to sleep. Instead she’d tossed and turned for an hour or so, then got up and rummaged through Buck’s bookcase for something to read. She’d had a choice of mystery or western, and since she’d already read all the mysteries on Buck’s shelves she settled for a shoot-’em-up western novel and read until one o’clock before her eyelids got heavy and began to close.

Now that pesky rooster was letting her know that it was time for any self-respecting farmer to be up and about. That apparently also included his wife, his children and any guests who might be lurking about. With a sigh she pushed aside the covers and more or less tumbled out of bed.

She had to have a private chat with Coralie, ASAP.

At about the same time six miles away in Copper Canyon, Sam rolled over in bed and shut off the blaring alarm clock. He was sorely tempted to lie back down and rest for just a few minutes before he got up, but he knew better than to do that.

After making a jackass of himself the previous night and insulting Kirsten, he’d tossed and turned for hours before finally falling asleep. Now he felt like a horse who’d been “rode hard and put away wet.” If he dozed off he would oversleep, and then he would be running to catch up with his schedule all day and into the night.

With a moan he forced himself out of bed and stumbled into the bathroom. Years earlier when he was an intern he’d learned to brush his teeth, shave and dress while still half-asleep, and now it was more or less routine.

As he guided the electric razor over his bristly face his mind returned to the debacle with Kirsten the night before. He felt like a fool, which wasn’t surprising because he was a fool. Why else would he have been so quick to jump to the conclusion that she was trying to get him into bed when all she’d offered was coffee and cookies?

The question was rhetorical because he already knew the answer. It was her voice. That low, sexy pitch that sent shivers down his spine. That was a come-on. It had to be.

Then again she’d cleared her throat directly after she’d spoken, and she’d recently been dangerously ill with a viral infection that could easily have affected her pharynx. Her voice could have been husky because the night air still impaired her vocal quality.

He slapped the heel of his hand against his forehead and glared at himself in the mirror.

Idiot! How come that thought just occurred to you? You’re a doctor. You’re supposed to be the expert on such things. Why didn’t you figure that out last night before you opened your mouth and stuffed your foot in it?

His shoulders slumped and he turned off the razor as he muttered a barnyard oath. What was the matter with him? Why did he talk like a braying ass every time he tried to carry on a conversation with her? Nobody liked to be embarrassed by a slip of the tongue, but his tongue didn’t just slip when he talked to Kirsten. It pitched and bucked and landed him flat on his backside.

Even more important, why did it matter so much to him? He didn’t even know her. All told they’d only been together four and a half or five hours at the most. She was nothing to him but a damn nuisance, and still he felt sick when he remembered the pain and contempt in her tone as she’d delivered that last scathing and well-deserved tonguelashing to him.

No woman since Belinda had been able to hurt and upset him so deeply, and that terrified him more than anything else that had happened. He’d vowed never to set himself up for that much agony again, and up to now he’d never allowed a woman to get close enough to try. It was obvious to him that he couldn’t handle a busy medical practice and a deeply committed love affair at the same time. It had to be one or the other, and he had to make a living. Besides, his medical practice could never betray him the way a lover could.

Still, he had to apologize to Kirsten. He could never square it with his conscience if he didn’t. As soon as he had a few minutes free he would call her, tell her how sorry he was for insulting her and try to persuade her to have dinner with him as a parting gesture. A way to try to soften some of the justifiable contempt she felt for him.

For some reason it was important to him that she not always remember him as an insensitive clod.

By eight o’clock breakfast had been served at the Buckley farm, and Jim and the hired man who was replacing Buck while he was gone had left to do whatever it was they did in the fields. Amber and Gloria were still asleep, and Coralie and Kirsten were taking a breather and having a second cup of coffee at the table in the kitchen.

Kirsten wanted to talk to Coralie about Sam, but she hoped to lead up to it gradually, instead of tackling the thorny subject head-on. The problem was she couldn’t think of a way to do that, so she just asked the first question that came to mind. “What time do your stepdaughters wake up?”

Coralie chuckled. “During the school year they have to get up when Jim and I do, so we negotiated a compromise for the summer vacation. I’ve assigned each of them chores around the house that must be completed every day, but as long as they keep up with them I let them sleep as late as they want to in the mornings. So far it’s working out beautifully.”

Kirsten was surprised. “How did you get so knowledgeable about handling teenagers? As I remember from your letters, they were pretty undisciplined when you first came here.”

Coralie shuddered. “That’s an understatement, but I just think back to when I was their age and remember how I felt. Besides, they’re at a time in life when their bodies are growing and changing so fast that they need a lot of sleep.

“Jim’s daughters are very bright and mature. They’re always open to suggestions, it’s only orders they resist. But, hey, we’ve got much more exciting things to talk about than adolescent discipline.” Her eyes twinkled, and a happy smile lit her face. “I’m dying to know how you liked Sam. Did you let him kiss you good-night when he took you home?”

Kirsten sighed and took a big swallow of her coffee. She’d known Coralie would be hoping to hear that Kirsten and Sam had fallen in love at first sight, and preferably that they’d already started making wedding plans.

She hated to dash Coralie’s dream of negotiating a match made in heaven. Actually, now that there was no longer even the remotest possibility of such a thing happening, Kirsten realized that deep down she’d been more open to the idea than she’d been willing to admit, even to herself. It could have been great to live in a small country village as the wife of the town’s handsome doctor.

But not this town’s doctor! No way! Obviously Coralie didn’t know that Jim’s friend was a self-centered egotist who assumed that every woman he dated was panting to get him into bed.

Just thinking about it started her adrenaline pumping and gave her the energy to tackle the sensitive subject. “Coralie, we need to talk,” she said carefully.

“I know. So talk,” Coralie answered eagerly. “What did you think of him? Isn’t he a hunk?”

“Oh, he’s a hunk, all right,” Kirsten agreed.

“Did he ask you to go out with him?” Coralie obviously hadn’t caught the sarcasm in Kirsten’s tone.

“No, he didn’t, and if he had I’d have said no,” she answered starkly. Apparently there was no polite way she could make Coralie understand that her matchmaking was unwelcome, and Kirsten was through pussyfooting around.

Coralie’s eyes widened. “But why? Are you two still upset over that accident? Surely you can put that behind you—”

“No, it’s not that,” Kirsten interrupted. “I’m sorry but I just don’t like the man and he doesn’t like me, either.”

Coralie looked stunned. “But I don’t understand. You’re both such nice people. How could you not like each other? What happened—”

Kirsten watched as her friend stopped in midsentence and her expression turned from puzzlement to shock. “Kirsten, he didn’t try to—”

“No!” Oh Lord, this conversation was getting totally out of hand. She couldn’t let Coralie think Sam had gotten rough or physical with her. “No, Coralie, he didn’t try anything. He never laid a hand on me. Actually, sex is the last thing he’d want of me. I don’t turn him on, that’s for sure.”

Coralie shook her head in disbelief, but Kirsten hurried on. “We did quarrel, but it was strictly verbal. Like I told you, we’re just not compatible, and I’m afraid I have to insist that you forget about the matchmaking. Not only with Sam but with any man. I came here to visit you and your new family, not to find a husband. Please, honor my wishes.”

“Well, of…of course I will if that’s what you want.” Coralie sounded dazed. “I’m so sorry—” Her sentence was cut short by the sound of feet clopping down the stairs just before Amber bounded into the room.

“Good morning,” she said cheerfully. “Any chance of getting some breakfast?”

Coralie shut her mouth but seemed unable to shift her mind’s gears onto a different subject, so Kirsten managed a big smile and answered for her. “You bet. The scrambled eggs and bacon are still warm on the back of the stove, and Coralie made the most mouth-watering banana muffins.”

She pushed back her chair and stood up. “Sit down and I’ll fix you a plate.”

Amber waved her away and giggled. “Thanks, but we have rules around here. Anyone who’s not at the table when meals are served has to wait on themselves.”

Kirsten held up her hands in mock surrender. “Sorry. I wouldn’t dream of breaking any of the rules, so if you’ll all excuse me I’ll go back to my quarters and finish settling in.”

She started walking toward the back door, when Coralie’s voice stopped her. “Kirsten, I’ll be finished up here in about an hour and then I’ll come over. I want to talk to you. We have a lot to catch up on.”

Kirsten got the message. “Great. Bring a couple of those muffins and I’ll put the teakettle on.”

It was nearly ten o’clock when Coralie tapped on the door to Buck’s little house. Kirsten had spent the intervening time pacing the floor, berating herself for being so out-spoken about her dislike for Sam and wondering if she’d done irreparable harm to her treasured friendship with Coralie.

She hurried to open the door and admit her friend. “You don’t have to knock,” she said. “After all, this is your house.”

Coralie stepped inside. “It may be owned by the family corporation,” she acknowledged, “but it’s the home of whomever happens to be in residence at the time, and right now that’s you. I wouldn’t violate your privacy by just walking in.”

Kirsten uttered a wry, little laugh. “Believe me, my life’s an open book—or door as the case may be. Shall we sit over here on the sofa?”

They walked across the living room and sat down on the brown velour couch. There was also a rust-colored lounge chair and a deep leather easy chair, as well as a console television set and assorted small tables. A brick fireplace dominated the side wall, and a picture window took up most of the front one.

Coralie crossed one jeans-clad leg over the other and tried to appear relaxed, but the nervous twisting of her hands gave away her unease. Kirsten, also wearing jeans, had taken off her shoes and tucked her feet beneath her.

Coralie was the first to speak. “I…I’ve been thinking about our earlier conversation, and I’m so sorry if my good intentions seemed more like meddling—”

“No, Coralie, please,” Kirsten interrupted. “It wasn’t like that at all. It’s just that neither Sam nor I are ready for a long-term relationship with anybody. Even if we were, it wouldn’t be with each other. The chemistry’s just not right between us.”

Coralie looked thoughtful. “It’s not just you. It would have been that way with any woman I tried to fix Sam up with. I should have known better than to interfere in his hermitlike existence.”

Kirsten regretted that she’d made her friend feel guilty. All Coralie had done was introduce a man and a woman who were good friends of hers, and whom she was sure would be compatible.

“Don’t blame yourself,” Kirsten said gently. “You had no way of knowing Sam and I would be so antagonistic toward each other.”

Coralie shook her head. “That’s just it. I should have known. As I said before, it’s not you personally that he dislikes, it’s the fact that you’re a woman.”

Kirsten gasped. “You mean he doesn’t like women! But why would you—?”

Coralie looked as startled as Kirsten felt. “No, no, I didn’t mean that,” she hastened to say. “He likes women, but the one he fell in love with betrayed him and broke his heart.”

Kirsten sank back against the sofa. “Oh,” she exclaimed on a sigh. “You mean he’s divorced?”

“No, they’d been engaged for several years, but were waiting until he finished his internship before getting married.”

Kirsten found that hard to fathom. “But why—”

Coralie made a face. “Don’t ask me. Still, it’s not as if they were celibate all that time. They lived together while he was in medical school.”

Kirsten made a gesture of frustration. “I’ve never understood cohabitation. When a couple lives together, they make a strong commitment to each other whether they realize it at the time or not. They have most of the obligations of marriage but none of the legal protection, so why not take the vows?”

Coralie chuckled. “Hey, Ms. Old-Fashioned Gal, come on down off your soapbox. I’ve heard your fiery rhetoric before. In fact, as I remember, it was aimed at me once.”

“Yes, and you took my advice. If you’ll remember, you thanked me for it later. Said I’d saved you from making a big mistake.” Kirsten looked away, embarrassed. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to preach. I just hate to see any woman allow herself to be put in a vulnerable position.”

“Well, don’t worry about Belinda,” Coralie said emphatically. “She was the one who broke it off and took Sam for everything she could. I don’t have all the details. He never talks about it, so all I know is what Jim’s told me and what I’ve learned from gossip the local citizens were eager to impart. In a small town like Copper Canyon everybody knows everybody else’s business.”

Kirsten’s curiosity was nagging at her. “Well, for heaven’s sake,” she said impatiently, “what happened?”

“It’s a long story,” Coralie began. “Her name was Belinda Evans, and her and Sam’s parents were close friends, so they’d known each other all their lives. They’d been best friends in elementary and middle school, sweethearts in high school and lovers in college. I gather that it wasn’t until his last year in medical school that the trouble between them erupted.”

“But if they were so much in love, why didn’t they get married?” Kirsten repeated.

Coralie rolled her eyes. “I told you, I don’t know. You know how college kids are. They like to be independent. Maybe Sam and Belinda were rebelling against authority, or maybe they wanted to make a statement. Who knows. I asked Jim one time and he said he didn’t know and hadn’t asked, implying that it was none of anybody else’s business.”

Kirsten smiled sheepishly. “Yeah. Well, I have to admit he’s right…So go ahead. What happened to break them up?”

“When Sam started medical school in Chicago, Belinda went along with him and they set up housekeeping together. The idea was for her to work and help support them, but her college degree was in humanities, which didn’t qualify her for much of anything unless she did graduate work. She had trouble finding a job, and when she did find one it was as an entry-level salesperson in a department store at only slightly above minimum wage.”

Kirsten was puzzled. “I understood Sam’s father was a physician. Couldn’t he pay for his son’s schooling?”

“Well, yes, he could and did,” Coralie explained, “but physicians in small communities aren’t as well paid as those in the cities, and the tuition to medical school is terribly expensive. Sam didn’t want to burden him with Belinda’s living expenses, too. After all, there were other children in the family who had to be educated.”

“Yes, I see,” Kirsten said. “Was it their financial problems that caused Sam and Belinda to break up?”

Coralie frowned. “No, actually it was the long hours of work and study his training required that finally did them in. She was lonely, irritable and desperately unhappy, when so many of his nights as well as his days were spent at the hospital.

“He tried to explain to her that this was the type of thing all medical students went through and there was nothing he could do about it, but by then she was beyond reason and started accusing him of seeing another woman.”

“She didn’t!” Kirsten protested. “Students always work gruelingly long hours in medical school and during their internship, to say nothing of residency if they decide to specialize.”

Coralie shrugged. “Not everyone knows that,” she pointed out. “You and I do because we also studied in the medical field, but Belinda had no such frame of reference. Her dad’s a blue-collar worker who got excellent technical training in an apprenticeship program but never went to college. She got a degree, but chose easy courses and only studied hard enough to get by. According to Jim, she didn’t really want to work. She wanted to marry a wealthy man who would support her.”

“Lazy, wasn’t she,” Kirsten muttered through tight lips. She’d heard enough to thoroughly dislike this woman.

“Afraid so,” Coralie agreed, “but according to Jim nobody dared say that to Sam. Jim tried it once and nearly got his head taken off. Sam was blindly in love and couldn’t or wouldn’t see her faults.”

“So what finally happened?” Kirsten prodded again.

Coralie’s tone and expression deepened to sadness. “Sam came home to their apartment one night to find Belinda gone. She’d taken all her things with her and left a note saying she couldn’t live the way they were any longer.”

Coralie’s voice broke. “He had some critically important exams coming up in the next few days and couldn’t take time off to track her down and beg her to come back. By the time he found her a couple of weeks later she’d married a man who, he learned belatedly, had been keeping her company during the long hours when Sam was at the hospital.”

A surge of compassion for Sam temporarily displaced the anger Kirsten had been feeling. “What a rotten thing for a woman to do to a man!” she said indignantly. “He must have been devastated.”

“He was,” Coralie confirmed, “and he never got over it. Oh, he doesn’t dwell on it, but neither has he had anything but superficial relationships with any woman since. That’s why I was so eager to get you and him together. You’re so right for each other, but obviously he wants no part of it.”

Kirsten’s tender heart hurt for Sam, who had been so badly treated by this spoiled and selfish woman. She wished she could hold him, comfort him, take away the lingering pain, but that was her nurturing instinct reacting, not her good sense.

In fact, it was all the more reason for her to steer clear of him. She was too vulnerable to him, too empathetic to his anguish, and she sure didn’t want to get mixed up in that quagmire!

“You can’t blame him, can you?” Kirsten said. “He might never completely trust a woman again. I wish I could help him, but I can’t. Nobody can, until he admits he needs it and asks for it.”

She paused for a moment and softened her tone. “And, Coralie, you’re not doing the women you set him up with any favor by trying to interest him in another relationship. He’ll just drive them away like he did me.”

Coralie opened her mouth to say something, but Kirsten hurried on. “This is a problem he needs to work out on his own or with a counselor. You know that. We both had lots of psychology classes in college. Enough to know when we can help with a patient’s emotional problems and when we can’t.”

Finally Coralie got a word in edgewise. “As you said, I know all that, and I certainly wouldn’t try to involve him with just any woman, but you’re special and I have this gut feeling that you’re the one who can restore his belief in the female gender and teach him to love again.”

Coralie’s statement pushed the wrong button in Kirsten. “That’s nonsense!” she railed. “And besides, I don’t want to have to ‘teach’ a man to love me. If my future Mr. Right can’t fall in love with me without help, then I don’t need him.”

She realized she sounded strident and lowered her voice. “I don’t want warmed-over love, Coralie. That’s a surefire road to hell. I want a man who will cherish me because he can’t help himself. Who will marry me because he can’t imagine life without me. Not one who thinks of another woman every time he makes love with me.”