The Good Doctor

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

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

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

“Violet? It’s Peter Clark.”

“Oh, Peter. Hi.”

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

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

“You saw Ryan today?”

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

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

“With no questions asked?”

“With no questions asked.”

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

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

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

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

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

“I wonder who bribed him,” Peter grumbled.

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

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

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

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

“Because you’re worried about Ryan?”

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

“That burnout we discussed?”

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

“Yes.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Did it help?”

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

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

“Maybe.” She sounded doubtful.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Will you still come tonight?”

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

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

Her face fell and he saw tears well up again.

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

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

“Promise?” she asked.

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

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

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

Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.

Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».

Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес.

Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.