Читать книгу Hot-Shot Doc Comes to Town - Susan Carlisle - Страница 9

SHELBY dropped her bag on the bottom step of the stairs that ran alongside the garage.

“Since you don’t want to be a topic of gossip any more than I do,” Taylor said calmly, “maybe you should just agree to disagree about my car.”

With great effort Shelby pushed down the temptation to say something. Having a public argument would certainly give her neighbors and friends a good tale to tell.

“Just what did you do to get on Uncle Gene’s bad side?”

“Uncle Gene?” he asked in a puzzled tone.

“Judge Gene Robbins. He’s my uncle,” she said as she started to climb the stairs.

“So that’s why I’m here.” The words were little more than a mumble, as if he was contemplating the meaning of life. After a moment he commented, “We’ve had a few legal dealings. Nothing special.”

Shelby stopped and looked down at him. What did he mean? Was he an ax murderer? No, her uncle wouldn’t send anyone to work with her who wasn’t a decent person.

Taylor’s look moved slowly up from where his focus had been, on her bottom. Heat filled her cheeks. It had been a long time since a man had noticed her and made his appreciation so obvious. She and Jim had been an item since childhood, leaving little room for another man to show interest. The men in Benton had never approached her in anything other than friendship since Jim had been gone. In truth, she’d not given them a chance. She couldn’t take the chance of losing someone she loved again.

Shelby hurried up the stairs. Taylor was here to help in the clinic and that was all. On the landing she opened the door to the apartment.

“You don’t lock up?”

Turning round, she found Taylor too close for comfort. Standing on the small landing that made her a step higher than he, Shelby was almost at eye level with him.

From there she could see the tiny laugh lines that radiated out from the corners of his eyes. Apparently he wasn’t always the hypercritical person his body language indicated he was. His eyes were brown with small flakes of gold.

The twist of the corner of his mouth brought her attention to his firm, full lips. She blinked.

“Doesn’t your husband tell you to lock the doors?” he asked.

“I’m a widow.”

“I’m sorry.” He sounded like he meant it.

“I am too.” She turned away from the sincerity in his eyes. The sadness that usually accompanied thoughts of Jim was suddenly not as sharp.

Shelby hadn’t missed the look of displeasure on Taylor’s face when he had entered the clinic or when he’d seen the working conditions. She’d also not missed the expression of disgust when he’d realized she drove an old truck. His knuckles had turned white on his steering-wheel when he’d pulled onto her street, as if he didn’t like her neighborhood. Did he think that living here was beneath him? Or was it that she rubbed him the wrong way?

“How does your family feel about you being away from home?” she asked.

“No family.” He made it sound like he liked it that way.

Entering the one-room apartment, Shelby moved to one side to prevent any physical contact. He made her feel nervous and she was never nervous around men. After dropping his bag on the floor, he looked around the place.

Shelby’s gaze followed his. A full bed with her grandmother’s hand-quilted blanket dominated the room. There was a small refrigerator-stove combo in one corner. A two-seater table with chairs sat in front of the double window that looked out onto the back of her house. A braided rug, sofa and chair finished off the living area. A bathroom took up the other corner. She was rather pleased with her decorating efforts. It made a cute place for one person to stay.

“I think you will be comfortable here,” she said with a smile full of pride.

He didn’t agree or disagree. Instead he picked up his bag, carried it to the bed and began unzipping it.

“Not up to your usual standards, I’m sure,” she mumbled.

Taylor pulled clothing out of his bag, his back to her. “You don’t know me well enough to know my standards. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to get a much-needed shower and go to bed. I’ve been up almost twenty-four hours.”

“What? Why?”

“Because I had to handle an emergency last night. A boy had been hit by a car. I didn’t get out of the hospital until ten this morning and then I had to drive straight here or Uncle Gene would’ve been unhappy.”

So that’s why he’d been late. Why hadn’t she noticed he wasn’t just tired, he was exhausted? As a physician trained to observe the human condition she should’ve known. Had she completely missed it because of her strange reaction to his nearness?

Now she felt small and petty. Why hadn’t he said something? She could’ve given him directions here. The clinic had been running with just her for three years and she could’ve certainly made it through another afternoon. Instead, Taylor had gone to work, never giving the patients or her any indication he was drained. His perfect bedside manner had never faltered. For that, he’d earned her admiration.

Taylor began unbuttoning his dress shirt.

Shelby headed for the door but turned back when she reached it. “One more thing about the clinic …” Her gaze went to where his hands worked the buttons open.

“Yeah?”

His shirt parted, revealing a broad chest lightly covered with dark hair. Her gaze rose to meet his. One of his dark brows rose quizzically.

Heaven help her, she’d been caught staring. Shelby drew in a quick breath. “Uh, do you mind keeping your clothes on until I’m gone?”

“Actually, I do. Can’t whatever you have to say wait?”

Was she losing her mind? She didn’t stand around in half-naked strangers’ rooms. Holding her ground, she gave him her best piercing look. “No. I need to make a few things clear before tomorrow.”

“Go ahead. I guess I can’t stop you,” he said as he shrugged out of his shirt and let it drop to the floor.

“Although I appreciate your help today, it needs to be clear to the patients that I’m in charge. I make the decisions. I determine what the patients require. I will not have you changing routines I’ve worked hard to implement. Is that clear?”

“So, to make it short and sweet, you’re the boss.”

Put that way, he made her sound like a shrew. That didn’t sit well. “It’s just that—”

He put up a hand, halting her words. “I’ve got it. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’d like to get some shut-eye.”

Departing, she carried the feeling she’d been the one reprimanded. “The clinic opens at eight sharp,” she said over her shoulder.

“I’ll be there.”

Taylor woke to threads of early morning sunshine through the window. He’d slept well, whether from exhaustion or because this simple room had offered him a good mattress he didn’t know.

Shelby had been right. He didn’t think much of the apartment but on second look it did have a rather homey feel. It was a great deal nicer than what he’d had growing up. To even have a bed to himself would’ve been considered high living.

He glanced at the electric clock on the bedside table. It said seven twenty-eight. The woman would have his hide if he didn’t turn up on time this morning. He couldn’t take a chance that she’d inform her Uncle Gene about his tardiness. More time he couldn’t do.

Ten minutes later, freshly shaven and dressed in khakis, a knit shirt and loafers, he opened the door and almost stepped in the tray sitting on the stoop. There he found a Thermos of coffee, toast and a boiled egg. He smiled. Maybe the caustic doctor was feeling a little guilty about how she’d treated him when he’d been late. Apparently she wasn’t all vinegar.

He checked the time. If he didn’t get a move on she might chew him out again. Grabbing the Thermos and egg, he closed the door behind him and hurried down the stairs. Knocking on the back door of her house, he received no response. She must’ve found a ride to work. If she wasn’t at the clinic when he got there, he’d hunt for her.

As Taylor walked across the parking lot towards the clinic, Shelby came out. “Coming in under the wire, aren’t you, Doctor?” Her voice was full of censure as she worked the key until the deadbolt was drawn into the door to open the office for the day.

“I said I’d be here, and I’m here. And good morning to you too, Doctor. What time did you show up?”

“I’ve been here an hour or so. It usually takes me that long to set up for the day.”

“I knocked to see if you needed a ride.”

“I walked. Bert said he’d have my truck fixed this afternoon.”

Taylor held the door for her to enter ahead of him. “You walked? I would’ve brought you if you’d woken me.”

“You were tired. Walking isn’t a problem. I do it pretty regularly. I’m safe enough and it’s good exercise.”

A couple of people who’d been waiting around outside came in behind them.

“Thanks for the breakfast.” He showed her the egg and Thermos.

“No problem. Those’ll have to wait, though. We’ve patients to see.”

Her no-nonsense statement went along with her functional attire of navy slacks and white V-neck T-shirt that showed a hint of cleavage. Despite her simple attire, it couldn’t hide the shapely curves of her body. Her waist was small enough that a man’s hands could easily slip around it.

She’d pulled her hair back but at the nape it was too short to capture. The only flash of color was a bright neon-pink stethoscope hanging around her neck. Taylor followed her to the desk, where a blonde teenage girl sat, drumming a pencil and chewing gum.

“Carly, this is Dr. Stiles. He’ll be helping us for the next couple of weeks,” Shelby said as she picked up the sign-in clipboard.

Taylor nodded to the girl.

She looked up. He watched her eyes widen. She shifted, then straightened in her chair. “Hey.” She flipped her long blonde hair behind her shoulder. He’d never thought of himself as vain, far from it, but he did know when a female appreciated his looks.

“Carly, do you think you could find Ms. Cooper’s file? And get rid of the gum.” Shelby turned to him, “I’ll see Ms. Cooper since this is a check-up.”

Carly didn’t move. He didn’t know why but he wished Shelby would have the same reaction to him that Carly did. Other than that one unguarded moment when he’d been unbuttoning his shirt, she’d acted as if she had no idea he was male. It intrigued and disappointed him. Simple admiration from Shelby would be hard earned.

“I’ll call Dr. Stiles’s patient for him,” Carly said as she dropped her gum into the trash can at her feet and gave him a toothy smile.

“Will I be using exam one?” he asked Shelby.

“That’ll be fine.”

Her words were said so tersely that he glanced at her. What was her problem now?

For the rest of the morning he had little time to ponder what might have upset Shelby. The waiting room stayed full no matter how efficiently he tended to the patients or how simple the cases were.

Where Carly’s reaction to him had been an ego booster earlier in the day, it had become borderline comical by midday. He noticed that she saw to all his patients, showing them to their exam room, asking him if he had everything he needed or if she could get him something to drink. All of it was nice but it was in direct contrast to how Carly treated Shelby. Carly offered her no assistance.

When Taylor asked Carly about that she shrugged in a typical teenage dramatic fashion and said, “Oh, Dr. Wayne likes to do everything herself.”

Of course she does.

By lunchtime Taylor couldn’t help but admit that he’d put in a pretty hard morning. The little clinic was plenty busy. The mundane work sucked him back to another time. Each patient reminded him too much of the people he’d known growing up.

There was the kid with the cough that never disappeared, like Mike Walker’s. He’d been in Taylor’s third-grade class one year but wasn’t there the next. Or others, such as old man Parsons, who’d had no teeth and had chewed tobacco until his gums were diseased. Or Mrs. Roberts, who might’ve been pretty at fifty, but with too many children and a sorry husband had looked like she was seventy.

Taylor would do his time and get back to where he belonged, where memories weren’t darts being thrown at him constantly.

Around noon the egg he’d eaten in bites between patients was gone. He was glad to see that the crowd in the waiting room had dwindled. Maybe they would let him and Shelby have some lunch before every seat was filled again.

“Where do you get a good burger in this town?” Taylor asked as Shelby approached the front desk.

“There’s a burger place on Main,” Carly offered.

“We can all go. I’ll buy,” he offered.

Shelby gave a negative shake of her head. “I have paperwork to do. And someone may come in.” She slipped a chart into the file cabinet.

Really? The woman couldn’t even stop long enough to go out for a quick bite of lunch?

“I want to go. Can we ride in that cool car of yours?”

Taylor wasn’t sure he wanted to be seen riding around town with the very young girl beside him but there was no choice because he had no idea where the burger joint was and he was starving. “Can we bring you back something?” Taylor asked Shelby.

“No, I have a pack of crackers in my desk.”

“Okay.” He shrugged. “But I bet a burger would be a lot better.” He looked at Carly. “Come on. Show me the way. I guess I should learn my way around town.”

Shelby pulled out the drawer of her desk and reached for the package of crackers but didn’t pick them up. She would’ve been satisfied with them if Taylor hadn’t mentioned a burger.

She popped the top of her diet drink and stared off into space. The sounds of Carly’s high-pitched giggle and Taylor’s deep rumble came from the front. It grew louder as they walked in her direction.

Taylor stopped and let Carly enter Shelby’s office before him. “We decided to go through the drive-in and pick up something. We brought you a burger. Before you argue, I owe you for breakfast and the place to stay.”

Carly’s eyes widened with surprise. “You’re staying at Doc Wayne’s?”

“Yeah.” Taylor pulled one of the spare chairs closer to the desk with his foot.

Carly looked from Taylor to Shelby and back to Taylor.

No telling what the rumor would be if she didn’t clear this up now. “He’s staying in my garage apartment.”

“Oh, I thought—”

“I know what you thought.” Shelby said in a tight voice.

Already this man was disrupting her life. Carly would have that information spread far and wide by the end of the day.

Maybe Uncle Gene could have sent her someone else less … She couldn’t think of the word. Intrusive? Disruptive? Attractive?

Taylor sat down in one of the two folding chairs that suddenly appeared child-size beneath his large body and started digging through the paper bag in his hand. He acted as if he took his meals in a tiny, shabby office every day. It didn’t take long for Taylor to act like he belonged. Carly took the other chair and he handed her a burger wrapped in paper before his hand slipped into the bag again. Pulling out another burger, he offered it to Shelby.

When she hesitated he said, “Take it. Don’t act like you don’t want it.”

Shelby wished that wasn’t the truth. She reached for the offered package. By the time she’d eaten a couple of bites of hers Taylor had already finished his first burger and was searching the bag for another.

The tinkle of the bell hanging on the door sounded.

“Doc Wayne! Doc Wayne!”

The urgent cry made Shelby stand and head towards the door. Taylor had hurried out and was moving up the hall by the time she stepped from the office.

The metallic smell of blood reached her nose before she saw the bright red drops on the floor. It seeped through the rag wrapped around Mr. Hardy’s arm. Shelby’s stomach rolled like a boat on a stormy sea, making her wish she hadn’t eaten.

She mentally braced herself. She could do this.

“Sir,” Taylor said, “I’m Dr. Stiles. Come back to the exam room and we’ll see what we’ve got here.”

For once Shelby was glad to have Taylor take over. When the injured man, in his mid-fifties, gave her a questioning look she said, “He’s a trauma doctor. You’re in good hands.”

Shelby believed those words. Was it because of the way Taylor led with confidence or because of the quality of care she’d seen him provide? Either way, it kept her from having to deal with the blood.

“Carly,” she called, “get out a suture kit in exam one. Now.” She turned to the pale-faced woman left standing in the waiting room. Shelby took her arm and led her to a chair.

“Wait here, Mrs. Hardy. We’ll let you see him as soon as we can.”

Shelby headed toward the exam room. “Carly, get Mrs. Hardy a drink and sit with her. She looks a little shaken,” Shelby said as she passed the girl in the hall.

In the examination room, Taylor gingerly unwrapped the rag from around the man’s arm. Stepping to the table, she asked, “Mr. Hardy, what did you do to yourself?”

“I was cutting a limb off a tree that’d been damaged during the storm last week. Darn chainsaw kicked back and got me.”

Shelby took a fortifying breath as Taylor revealed the gnarled flesh on Mr. Hardy’s forearm. She’d never been a fan of blood to start with but after seeing so much of Jim’s pouring from his body, her aversion to it had become worse. Red liquid continued to slowly drip onto the white cloth covering the table. “Looks like it got you three times before it let go,” Taylor remarked as he examined the man’s arm. “I don’t see any bone damage.”

“Do you mind if I have a look?” Shelby asked, stepping forward. Cases like these were her least favorite but she’d learned to deal with them because she was usually the only doctor available. She wouldn’t let this know-it-all doctor make her look weak in front of a patient who would be hers long after he’d gone home.

Taylor shifted to the right so she could have a better view. Shelby gently rotated the arm. “Does that hurt?” Her stomach chose that moment to make a Waikiki surfing wave. She hoped her face didn’t give away to Mr. Hardy and Taylor how awful she felt.

“No,” the middle-aged man said.

She gently eased the man’s arm down on the table. Her hands trembled and she tightened her jaw, willing her throat not to spasm. If she focused on what she was doing, she could get through it. She had before and she would again. “Well, I don’t see any damage past the skin, which is good news. We just need to get you stitched up.”

Something made her look at Taylor. He was studying her too closely for her comfort. Seconds later a look of realization entered his dark expressive eyes then surprise.

“Dr. Wayne,” he said, his tone all business, “do you mind if I do the suturing? It’s my expertise and I don’t see many chainsaw injuries where I’m from.”

A sense of relief washed over her. She looked at Mr. Hardy questioningly.

“I don’t mind. Just need to get it done. My wife’s already mad ‘cos I got blood all over her freshly mopped kitchen floor.”

The bell on the door sounded and Carly spoke to someone. “If you have this,” Shelby said to Taylor, “I’ll go see this other patient.”

Taylor glanced up at Mr. Hardy, “We’re good here?”

The man nodded agreement. Shelby left as Taylor untaped the suture kit.

Over an hour later Shelby stood beside the front desk ready to call her next patient. She watched as Taylor saw Mr. and Mrs. Hardy out with instructions to return in a couple of days.

Taylor approached the desk and stepped close enough she could smell the soap on his skin that she’d placed in his bath. “We need to talk.”

A shiver ran up her spine. “Is something wrong with Mr. Hardy?”

“Your office,” he said in a low voice.

“You don’t order me around.”

“Do you really want to broadcast our discussion to the entire county?” He turned his back to the handful of people in the waiting room. “I don’t think you want people to know their doctor’s little secret.”

Her stomach dropped. He wasn’t going to let what he’d learned pass without comment. She entered the office ahead of him. He came in and closed the door.

“What’ve you got to say that can’t wait until after our patients are gone?” she demanded.

Taylor leaned causally against the door, crossing his arms over his chest and one foot over the other, a slight grin on his lips. “Interesting, a doctor who can’t stand the sight of blood,” he stated in complete amazement.

“I’m a general practitioner. I don’t have to deal with blood to do my job well,” she huffed.

“I guess you don’t. But you must’ve had a devil of a time getting through emergency rotation in med school.”

She looked him directly in the eyes. “I worked through it.”

“Yeah, I could see how well you’re working through it in there with Mr. Hardy.” He had to admire her fortitude. She looked as if she was determined to do what had to be done, even at a cost to herself.

“You won’t tell, will you?”

He wished he could tease her and make her think that he would but her wide-eyed, pleading look softened his heart. “Your secret is safe with me.”

“You know, I would’ve stitched up Mr. Hardy if you hadn’t been here. Wouldn’t have enjoyed it but I would’ve gotten it done. Patients with major injuries don’t normally come to the clinic. His wife refusing to drive outside Benton is the only reason they stopped here. Otherwise they would’ve gone straight to Nashville or Jackson.”

“Either one of those places is around a hundred miles away.”

“I know. Mr. Hardy could’ve gone into shock before he got there.”

Shelby gave him a grateful look that made him feel heroic. “I appreciate your help.”

The frustration she felt over her weakness shone in her large gray eyes. The desire to take her in his arms and reassure her that she wasn’t failing her patients flooded him. Taylor resisted the urge. Shelby wouldn’t appreciate him noting her flaw any more than he’d already had. He shrugged. “I’m glad I was here too. The old man required a number of stitches.”

Taylor had actually found Mr. Hardy’s case interesting. Chainsaw accidents weren’t common inside a metropolitan area. To his surprise, he’d enjoyed talking to the tell-it-like-it-is man. Straightening, Taylor prepared to open the door. “I did some of my finest work. He’ll have scars but nothing as extensive as they could’ve been.”

“Well, I’m glad it worked out for you and Mr. Hardy,” Shelby said in a mocking tone.

She made it sound as if Taylor had caused the accident so he could show off his skills. At least that sad expression had left her eyes. He ignored her remark and asked, “So what’s the plan when I’m gone?”

“The plan is to go on as I have been and look for a doctor who’s trained in emergency medicine. Someone willing to work here at least part time.”

“Well, it won’t be me. I’m going to do what’s required. Then I’m gone. Don’t be getting any ideas.”

“I don’t have any ideas about you one way or another. Uncle Gene said he was sending me some help for a couple of weeks. The minute I met you I knew you wouldn’t be staying long.”

He didn’t understand why that remark annoyed him. He didn’t like her thinking she knew him that well. “Why?”

“Well, let’s see,” she said with a sassy bob to her head, “car, clothes, attitude. All are a dead giveaway.”

He’d covered his past well. Had worked hard at it. Taylor stepped closer, stopping just outside her personal space. Her eyes shifted with apprehension. He made her nervous and he liked it.

Leaning down to her eye level, he said, “You of all people should know that appearances aren’t always how things are.” He paused. “For example, a doctor who hates the sight of blood.”

A knock on the door punctuated his statement.

“It’s standing room only out here,” Carly called.

“Maybe you’d better go do what you have to do,” Shelby said in an ice-cold voice as she moved past him to hold open the door.

Taylor spent Wednesday morning seeing patients, only able to snatch a quick lunch before the afternoon influx of people into the waiting room. Despite working in a small-town clinic, he was still keeping large trauma center hours. It amazed him that Shelby had managed to hold it together without help for so long. She had to be mentally and physically exhausted. The clinic was definitely a two-person setup, and three would be better.

Late that afternoon, Taylor trailed behind his latest patient as he left. Going to the front to call his next one, he was pleasantly surprised to find that there was no one else needing attention. Shelby was busy giving Carly directions and shifting through papers at the same time. The picture had become so commonplace it seemed like he’d been working at the Benton Clinic for ever. It amazed him that he didn’t feel more like an outsider.

He and Shelby had only spoken a few words to each other the entire day. For some reason, he’d missed their sparring. If nothing else it brought a little spark to the backwater town, something to challenge his mind.

The bell on the door rang. The peace hadn’t lasted long enough for him to even say something that would aggravate Shelby. A girl of around sixteen with large, gloomy eyes and long blonde hair entered looking as if she’d like to turn and run. She wore a simple dress covering too much of her body for the warm day. The girl hesitated as the door closed behind her.

Shelby must have realized that the three of them looking at the girl was intimidating because she stepped forward and offered her hand. “I’m Dr. Wayne. Can I help you?”

The girl nodded but didn’t make eye contact.

“Come this way.” Shelby led the teen down the hall.

Ten minutes later Taylor entered the small lab area to find Shelby facing the counter, gripping it so hard the veins on the top of her hands stood out. She kept her head down.

He closed the door. “What’s wrong?” he asked, keeping his voice low and stepping closer. “What’s happened?” He didn’t try to keep his concern out of his voice.

Shelby’s actions seemed out of character. Even when blood had been an issue she’d hung tough, but now …

“Nothing.” Her tone said differently.

“Something’s obviously wrong. Let me help.”

She turned so quickly that she caught him off guard. Her eyes glistened and her face was drawn with misery. “Really? You think you can help,” she muttered. “I have an unwed pregnant teen in there …” she gestured toward the door across the hall “… who’s terrified to talk to her parents. When she does find the courage to tell her family about the baby she also has to explain to them that she has a venereal disease. So just how can you help with this?”

Her bold stare said he couldn’t fix this no matter what he did. As much as he hated to admit it, she was right.

“I can’t help her but I can help you.” He gathered Shelby into his arms. What was he doing? Nurses, other female doctors had been upset in his presence and he’d never hugged them. Something about Shelby made him want to comfort her, help her with her problems. Be there for her. He winced. That was something he couldn’t do. How had he become so involved in her life so quickly?

She resisted, remaining rigid against him. “Please let me go.”

It pricked his ego that she wouldn’t consent to his comfort, but he schooled his face not to show a reaction. He did as she asked and stepped back, missing the contact immediately. “Would you like me to talk to the girl?”

Shelby shook her head. “No, that’s my job. She’s scared enough without me sending a man in to discuss this. She lives in the county above us and wanted to go where she wouldn’t be recognized. Someone told her that there was a female doctor here.”

“In this day and age she’s hiding? Afraid to tell her parents? The teenage girls I know are proud to be unwed and pregnant.”

“You have to remember that there’re still strong moral standards in this area. Everyone knows everyone. Has an opinion about everything.”

Taylor was well aware of how those concepts worked.

Shelby continued, “Her parents, she says, aren’t going to be happy or accepting.” She moved past him. “I’d better go give her the news.”

He placed a hand on her shoulder and her gaze met his. “Shelby, I wish I could do more than say I’m sorry.”

She gave him a weak smile. “I am too,” she said, before squaring her shoulders and knocking on the door to the exam room across the hall.

Her heart was too big for her own good. For once, Taylor thought that Uncle Gene sentencing him to the clinic had been a good thing. It had allowed him to be there for Shelby today.

The girl left the clinic thirty minutes later with a gentle pat on the shoulder from Shelby and the reassurance that she’d be there if the girl needed her. Shelby said not a word as she passed him. She entered her office and effectively closed everyone out.

After preparing the clinic for the next day, Taylor knocked lightly on the office door. “You ready to close up?”

“You go on. I’ll see you in the morning.”

She needed space and wouldn’t appreciate him insisting she leave. He really shouldn’t care. All doctors ran into cases that got under their skin. The problem was that Shelby cared too deeply. For the girl. For her all her patients.

Who took care of her?

Hours later, Taylor rolled over in bed and looked at the bedside clock for the umpteenth time. It was well past midnight.

Where was she?

With a sense of relief that amazed him he saw Shelby’s headlights flash across the wall of the apartment as she pulled into the drive.

She worked far too hard, felt too much. The clinic, for all he could see, was her life. She took no down time. In his opinion it wasn’t healthy. She needed to slow down or she’d be the one needing a doctor. He knew of few doctors who worked harder than Shelby.

He didn’t want to care. No matter what happened he refused to get involved but with every day he stayed in Benton it made it more difficult to keep his distance. First it had been Mrs. Ferguson, then Mr. Hardy and now he was stressing about a workaholic tyrant of a doctor who lived in a one-red-light town. Heck, he didn’t really know how to care. He’d certainly not gotten an example of how that worked from his family. Could he have picked a more foreign emotion?

The way Shelby’s big gray eyes looked stormy when she was mad and turned soft and sad when she worried over a patient pulled at him. Even her sharp tongue didn’t squelch his anxiety for the turbocharged woman.

Reassured Shelby was safely home, Taylor rolled over and punched his pillow, knowing he could now find sleep. He’d no idea why it mattered to him what she did. Shelby had been fine before he’d arrived and she’d be fine after he left.

But who would be there for her when she needed a shoulder to lean on next time?