Bachelor Remedy

“Rankins,” she answered without hesitation.

“Rankins?” Was she serious? The kid had been mauled by a bear. “Are you sure? It’s a small hospital, and Juneau has—”

“I know how big the hospital is,” she answered in a tone as crisp as an ice chip. “He’s my patient. It’s my call.”

Giving his head a stupefied shake, he turned to focus on the plane’s controls. The only thing that kept him from arguing was the fact that he didn’t want to waste any time. The patient could be airlifted from Rankins if necessary. Although, at some point in the very near future, he and Ms. Mowak were going to have a conversation about patient transport protocol when he and his company were involved.

* * *

AS LOUIS DRIFTED in and out of consciousness, Ally held his hand, touched his cheek, told him stories, all the while closely monitoring his condition: listening to his breathing, checking his pulse, scanning every inch of him from head to toe and back again. There was some oozing through the dressings but no serious bleeding. She wished she could check the injuries on his back.

What she really wished was that she’d been there to protect them.

Ally had been lingering behind on the trail taking photos when she heard the boys’ screams. She’d sprinted toward the commotion, but by the time she’d arrived at the scene the bear was gone and the damage done. Squeezing her eyes shut, she took a few seconds to appreciate how lucky Louis was to be alive. She still wasn’t sure why his injuries weren’t more severe. Ally was proud of him for keeping his head covered like he’d been taught, his scratched and raw forearms proof of the defensive move. A bear’s powerful jaws could remove a person’s entire face or crack the skull with a single bite, as easily as a nutcracker splitting an acorn.

Quinn said that in those few seconds of awareness before the attack he’d thought they were both dead. The boys had been standing maybe ten feet apart when they heard a noise in the brush behind them. They hadn’t had time to do more than turn before three-hundred-plus pounds of muscle, claws and teeth were charging toward them.

For whatever reason, the bear had gone for Louis first. As Quinn scrambled to retrieve his bear spray from the holster on his hip, the sow, seemingly distracted by something in the trees, had dropped Louis almost as quickly as she’d attacked and loped back into the brush. Probably her cubs, Ally theorized, as Quinn had seen two little ones scooting ahead of the bear’s retreating form.

It seemed like only a few minutes before the plane was descending toward the waters of the bay adjacent to the town of Rankins. After a smooth-as-glass landing, they were ferrying toward the dock. Red and blue lights from the waiting ambulance were a balm to the gnawing worry in her gut. She’d thoroughly assessed Louis’s injuries, but with the conditions and the limited resources in the field, she knew there was a chance she’d missed something.

With efficiency and care Ally approved of, the onshore team rushed Louis into the ambulance for the short ride to the hospital. She joined him inside and was soon handing her cousin off again, this time to a team of doctors and nurses.

Relief rushed through her when she saw Dr. Ramsey instead of Dr. Boyd. Like her, Flynn was new to Rankins Hospital but old to Alaska, meaning he’d grown up here, too. He was also sympathetic to traditional medical practices. He would understand the clay.

CHAPTER TWO

“IN THIS HOSPITAL, Ms. Mowak, we don’t treat patients with dirt.” Dr. Robert P. Boyd leveled his glacier-blue glare at Ally. He even looked like ice, she decided, with his white hair and snowy-smooth skin. The sharp edges of his shoulders and elbows jutted against his white jacket.

So much for her hope that Dr. Boyd wouldn’t get wind of her use of clay on Louis’s wounds. Poof went her plan to ease into a relationship with the chief physician at Rankins Hospital.

Ally already knew that an education, even one as extensive as a doctorate, didn’t guarantee wisdom. Knowledge, sure. Wisdom, not so much.

Her grandfather, Abe Mowak, had been using medicinal clays on patients ever since Ally could remember. Clay from Sullivan’s Spring was among his most valued. She’d collected some for him last time she’d visited Jessie, which was how she’d gotten the idea to use it on Louis.

“As an Army medic and a paramedic, I know you’re aware of the proper treatment for lacerations and punctures of this severity.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Dr. Ramsey informed me of the fact that the patient is a relative of yours, but that makes no difference where medical procedures in this hospital are concerned. I acknowledge that Louis’s mother, your aunt I understand, has no problem with it. But trust me when I tell you that family connections are no guarantee when it comes to lawsuits.”

Dr. Boyd flipped through a sheaf of papers on the desk in front of him. Best guess, the file contained her résumé, Army record and reference letters. Then again, there could be anything in there—photos of his grandchildren, sudoku puzzles, his grocery list. The point was to intimidate her. Obviously Dr. Boyd didn’t know her yet.

Flynn Ramsey, Ally’s supervisor and friend, sat beside her. He tilted his head and mouthed a silent “Sorry.”

“It’s fine,” Ally mouthed back and added a wink.

Dr. Boyd addressed her again. “In case you haven’t had time to consult the hospital’s policy, I’ve had my secretary highlight the portions...”

The reprimand continued, and after much longer than necessary, he finally quieted and looked at Ally expectantly. Apparently it was time for her to respond.

She’d love to tell him exactly what she thought of his antiquated opinions, but she knew better. “Actions heal, words incite” was one of her grandfather’s favorite sayings. But she couldn’t resist trying to plant a seed, at least.

“Have you heard of the antibacterial properties of mineral clay, Dr. Boyd?”

“That’s what antibiotics are for, Ms. Mowak. Perhaps you’ve heard of penicillin?”

Perhaps you’ve heard of MRSA, Dr. Boyd? The sarcastic retort tap-danced silently across her tongue. Ally knew that Rankins Hospital had battled a bout of the antibiotic-resistant staph bacteria a few months back. MRSA and other superbugs like it were a direct result of the overuse of antibiotics. But she didn’t say that, either. She wouldn’t want the inference to be that she thought Louis shouldn’t receive antibiotics. Dr. Boyd seemed like the word-twisting type.

Then there was the fact that this was her first day on the job, a job she’d been training for and working toward her entire life. Her grandfather had sacrificed so much for her. No way would she let him down by getting fired before she even started. She knew that technically Dr. Boyd alone couldn’t fire her. That decision would require a vote by the entire hospital board. But Dr. Boyd was the ultimate medical authority here at the hospital, and she knew that her job, as well as her overarching mission, would go so much smoother if she could establish a good relationship with him.

“Of course,” she responded. “I’m a huge proponent of antibiotics when administered correctly. I’m grateful Dr. Ramsey prescribed them for Louis.” Ally flipped an appreciative smile in Flynn’s direction.

Dr. Boyd sat back and studied her. His long surgeon’s fingers curled over the arms of his chair, where they twitched menacingly like two hungry albino spiders.

An awkward silence ensued. “Now, I realize this is your first day on the job as our new hospital liaison.”

“Yes, it is, sir. And I appreciate your taking the time to go over these important rules with me. Working here at Rankins Hospital is a dream come true, and I assure you I’ll do whatever is necessary to make a smooth transition, including rereading the handbook the hospital has provided and reviewing all of these highlighted notes.”

Dr. Boyd sniffed and adjusted his glasses. “That sounds fine.”

Ally thought he looked suitably defused, so she stood. “If there’s nothing further then, I’m anxious to get to work.”

* * *

APPROXIMATELY TWENTY MINUTES later Ally was still trying to calm down. Seated behind her new desk inside her new office, she read her new job description for about the millionth time. Certain sections seemed to glow from the pages, reminding her why she was here: To facilitate patient care regarding medical treatment, procedures, hospital stays and preventative care... Appropriate consideration must be taken regarding the age, gender, ethnicity and religious beliefs of the patient...

Simple words, yet so open to interpretation and incredibly challenging to implement. The knot already bunching in her stomach tightened. Did her grandfather know the monumental task she was facing here? Of course he did. She wouldn’t be here if he didn’t have faith in her.

From the depths of her soul, she believed there had to be a way for traditional and modern medicine to meet peacefully, to merge, even. Yet she knew, and both her grandfather’s and her own experiences had taught her, how difficult the concept was for some people to accept. She hadn’t intended to wave her opinions around her new workplace quite so blatantly, and wouldn’t have, if Louis wasn’t a relative.

A knock startled her out of her thoughts. Looking up, she saw a vaguely familiar male figure filling the open doorway. A tall figure, she couldn’t help but notice—very tall and lean. The Mariners T-shirt he wore predisposed her to like him, and she couldn’t help but appreciate the way it stretched nicely across his muscled chest. Longish dark brown hair curled over his forehead and at least a day’s growth of stubble shaded his jaw.

Handsome face, she noted, but it didn’t look like a happy one.

“Good morning, Ms. Mowak. Do you have a minute?”

“Sure. Come on in.”

Long strides carried him into the room. “How’s your cousin?”

Now she had the feeling she should definitely know him. “He’s doing very well, thank you. He should be released in a day or two. Do you know Louis?”

One brow ticked up. “Just from yesterday.”

“Oh, were you part of the medical team treating him?”

He gave his head a little shake. “Ms. Mowak, I met you yesterday. Pilot?”

“Your name is Pilot? I have a cousin named Jett.”

One hand came up to scrub his chin. “No, I was the pilot who flew you and your cousin in from Jasper Lake.”

That was it. “Oh, yes, of course. Mr....?” Had he ever said his name?

“Tag. Tag James. From Copper Crossing Air Transport.”

“Sorry, I didn’t...remember you.”

“Yeah, I got that,” he answered flatly.

Ugh. This was uncomfortable, although she wasn’t sure why exactly. She recalled the brief interchange about which hospital to fly to and realized she might have been a tad short with him.

“Your landing was excellent, by the way. That, I remember.”

“My landing?” He repeated the word like he hadn’t quite heard her correctly.

“Yes. In the bay. You’re obviously a competent pilot.”

“Competent?” The word came out slowly while his brows dipped down along with the corners of his mouth. He looked baffled. He crossed his arms over his chest and kept them locked there.

Hmm. Was he offended that she hadn’t recognized him? Or put out because she’d overridden his suggestion to go to a larger hospital? When she shifted into rescue mode, she tended to become hyperfocused on her patient and the circumstances surrounding the emergency at hand. And yesterday’s patient had been Louis, a family member, which had heightened both her concentration and concern. She felt it unnecessary to explain this.

“I apologize that I didn’t recognize you?” she said, and immediately realized that it came out sounding more like a question. Ally didn’t believe in superfluous apologies, or conversations, for that matter. She found them both a waste of time, and hers was at a premium.

With more smirk than smile, he said, “I can assure you I am more than competent, Ms. Mowak.”

Oh, brother. She should have seen that coming, pilots and their egos. Her second oversize ego of the day. At least this guy wasn’t her boss.

“Mr. James, what can I help you with?”

“Please call me Tag. I’m here to discuss the flight yesterday. Do you remember anything besides my competent landing? Do you have problems with your short-term memory I should be aware of?”

Ally felt a stir of dismay. Carefully, she answered each question and then followed with one of her own. “Of course. No, I don’t. And what about the flight?”

“Specifically, I’m here to talk about how your new position as hospital liaison affects me and the patients I transport, as per my business arrangement with the hospital.”

“I see.”

“Do you?”

“This is about the clay?”

“Partially. Not entirely. I have more than one issue.”

Oh, good, she thought wryly. She was about to get grief from the pilot, too. Who was next? The charge nurse hadn’t accosted her yet. But it was early, not even lunchtime. Patiently she waited for him to continue.

“If we’re going to work together I think we need to establish some ground rules.”

“I agree.”

He got right to it. “I don’t have issues with alternative medicine per se—herbal, Ayurvedic, naturopathic, homeopathic, acupuncture, Reiki or any other type of traditional remedy, for that matter, is fine with me. I don’t care or interfere with what people believe or how they choose to treat their medical conditions. What I do have a problem with is when it directly affects my job, and more specifically, my ability to save a life.”

“And you feel like my use of medicinal clay falls into the latter category?”

“I do.”

“Please keep in mind that yesterday I was treating a family member in an emergency situation. I wasn’t on the job.”

“I understand that, which is why I’m here instead of in Dr. Boyd’s office.” He shrugged a shoulder. “Even though I do not understand why you would purposely put your cousin in danger.”

“Obviously, I don’t see it that way.”

“Obviously. You can see it any way you choose. But for the duration of time that we’ll be working together I need you to do it my way. My way is the right way.”

“Noted,” she replied calmly. “My turn.”

“What?”

Ally almost laughed at his look of utter confusion. “You said we were establishing ground rules. You gave me yours. If this works the way I think it does, then it’s my turn to outline my rules?”

Narrowing his gaze, he studied her like he was puzzling out this detail. His eyes burned into hers, and she couldn’t tell if they were green or brown. Inexplicably, the back of her neck began to tingle.

“Do you want to have a seat?” she asked, partially to stop his perusal, partially to bring him closer to her eye level. If Dr. Boyd hadn’t intimidated her, there was no reason this guy should. But it might be easier to manage if he wasn’t hovering over her.

“Fine.” Moving closer, he lowered his tall frame into the seat across from her.

Better, she thought, meeting his gaze head-on. Except now he seemed really...close.

Gathering her thoughts, she said, “When I’m out on a call and acting as the paramedic on behalf of Rankins Hospital my word is final. My way is the right way. I also have some ideas on how you can improve your efficiency. It took you too long to take off after you landed at the lake.”

He scoffed. “Are you kidding me? The only thing holding up my takeoff was you chatting with Jessie while I waited for you by the plane.”

Hands folded neatly on the desk in front of her, she went on. “I disagree. It took three minutes for you to get inside the plane and settled after I’d already boarded, and your dissension took at least another minute. Had you already been on board, we would have landed approximately five minutes sooner. I don’t think I need to remind you how vital five minutes can be in an emergency medical situation.”

Ally waited for him to respond, steeling herself for whatever came next. He didn’t look angry or upset, though. In fact, he was completely still. Too still?

“Hmm. You know what? Coming here might not have been the best idea, after all. Because I don’t need professional advice from someone who was still in grade school while I was getting my EMS certification.”

* * *

TAG WISHED HE could take the words back before they were even out of his mouth. A flicker of something was there and gone from her face faster than the beat of a swallow’s wing. Disgust maybe? Which he might deserve. Bering was right. Normally, Tag was the easygoing, slow to boil, diplomatic one.

Admittedly, he’d come here geared up for a possibly unpleasant conversation, but a professional one. Ally Mowak didn’t seem to have any problem maintaining a professional tone, whereas he’d just blown it. Her expression remained as unreadable as a slab of granite, and he couldn’t help but think he’d disappointed her in some profound way. Or maybe that was his own disappointment nibbling at him.

When she didn’t speak, he let out a sigh and tried backtracking, “What I was trying to say is that I don’t need anyone to advise me on how to do my job, Ms. Mowak. I’ve been at this a very long time.”

“Ally,” she said. “Please call me Ally. And the same goes for me.” Shrugging a shoulder, she continued in that same serene, not-quite-condescending way that he was fast learning was how she spoke. “But isn’t that what you’re really doing here now? Telling me how to do my job?”

“Uh, no.” He resisted the urge to scratch his itchy scalp because he sort of was, wasn’t he? He hadn’t meant to, not exactly. “That wasn’t my intention, anyway.”

“Did you or did you not see a woman who you interpreted as too young for this job and then decided that you’d teach her a thing or two? You, with your wisdom honed from years of experience, would come to the aid of an inexperienced, newbie female colleague?”

“No!” That he was not doing. “Nope. No way. Don’t even try that on me.”

“Don’t try what on you?”

“There’s no misogyny or ageism or sexism or racism or any other ‘ism’ going on here. I have four sisters and a boatload of female cousins, all of whom are younger than me. Each one is equally as smart and capable as I am, more so in many, many ways. This isn’t about any of that. This is about your workplace attitude, your approach and your lack of respect. After your behavior yesterday, I would have come in here today if you were an eighty-six-year-old man wearing a honey badger suit.”

One side of her mouth twitched. Only slightly, and he probably would have missed the movement if he wasn’t so intent on watching her, marveling at her composure.

“I don’t see how my attitude plays into this. My approach was honed through four years of military service, a civilian EMS-P certification, and a decade and a half of studying and practicing under the tutelage of a renowned medical expert. And as far as respect goes, I subscribe to the ‘respect is something you earn’ school of thought. And you being here right now and complaining about nonissues isn’t helping on that front.”

“Your résumé already got you this job, Ms. Mowak. You don’t need to recite it for me, and the fact that you are speaks to your insecurity, which I’m guessing has something to do with your attitude. Your approach is my concern because I have to work with you. And the respect I’m talking about is the respect you should innately have toward a fellow medical professional whose job and reputation you put on the line because you chose to smear mud all over a patient.”

“It’s clay.” Her tone was flat, but her shapely black brows arched higher and Tag had no idea what that look was supposed to convey.

Waving a hand, he said, “Whatever. Since we’re sharing our qualifications, I am going to give you a piece of advice based on my eighteen years of experience as an EMS-P, my fifteen years as a volunteer firefighter, and a lifetime as both a friend and a big brother. If you don’t want people to notice your age, don’t draw attention to it.”

“You’re the one who brought it up.”

“That’s true. But I—” Biting back the words he’d been about to say—I’m not used to people questioning my skills—he went with “I shouldn’t have. For that, I apologize.”

A head tip told him she acknowledged the mea culpa.

Exhaling, he checked the time on his watch. This meeting had been an epic fail, and he had no hope of turning it around at this point. He’d promised his sister Hannah he’d give her a hand with some repairs up at the ski resort this morning before his flight to Anchorage at noon. He needed to wrap this up.

“For now, I’m going to quit wasting both our time. Maybe we should meet with Dr. Ramsey and talk about our professional expectations?”

“That would be fine.”

“Good. I’ll set it up.”

* * *

ALLY STARED AFTER HIM. At least he’d suggested the meeting with Flynn and not Dr. Boyd. She had no more time than that to dwell on it, though, because the phone on her desk let out a buzz. She answered it and proceeded to deal with the first call for the job she’d actually been hired to do. She tackled paperwork and fielded calls until lunchtime, when she placed one of her own to Louis’s mom, her aunt Gina, who Ally knew was sitting vigil in his room.

Quinn was there, too, she learned, so she headed to the hospital’s cafeteria and ordered cheeseburgers, fries and strawberry shakes for them all. In the room, she was heartened to see Louis already sitting up, laughing and chatting with Quinn. At least she’d made the right call regarding his injuries.

When her break was over, she said goodbye to her family and promised to stop by again when she could. The afternoon was spent visiting patients and their families, assessing their needs and making notes about any questions or concerns they had regarding hospital, hospice or at-home health care.

The interaction with patients revived her, reminding her why she wanted this job. Back at her office, she immediately began cataloging the patients’ needs while they were fresh in her mind. One was ready for palliative care, so she called the hospice and set up a meeting for the patient and her family.

The remainder of her day consisted of more phone calls, emails, strategizing, and plotting out her to-do list and schedule for the next week. Just past six, a knock sounded on her door and relief flooded through her when she discovered this one had a much friendlier form attached to it than the morning’s.

“Flynn, hi.”

A dimpled grin transformed the young doctor’s already handsome face into a combination of sweet and gorgeous. Too bad she thought of him like family. With no siblings of her own, he was as close to a big brother as she could imagine. Their grandfathers were friends, so Ally and Flynn had known each other since childhood.

Flynn’s grandfather—“Doc,” as he was more commonly known in Rankins—had always welcomed her grandfather’s advice as a Native healer and doctor. Likewise, Abe had never had a problem calling on Doc when modern medicine was needed. A friendship had sprung up early in both of their respective careers, one based on mutual respect.

An image of Tag James flashed into her mind, embarrassment rushing through her because she realized in that moment that he’d been right about one thing: she’d been so concerned about his respecting her that she hadn’t shown him the respect he deserved.

Lowering himself into the chair Tag James had occupied that morning, Flynn said, “Hey. Good job with Dr. Boyd.”

“Thank you. I only wish all of my confrontations today could have gone as smoothly.”

Eyebrows a shade darker than his seal-brown hair darted up on his forehead. “Uh-oh. What else?”

“Among other affronts, I was told I need to work on my attitude.”

Scrunching his features into a grimace, he said, “Seriously?”

“Yes.”

“Not by a patient, though?”

“Of course not! It was a colleague. Although, in thinking about it now, I may have deserved part of it.”