Almost A Family

Lily, with her white-blond hair and shy smiles, had a better chance of fitting in with kids anywhere, though the meaner ones usually made fun of her weak leg. Tyler got sick a lot and was small for his age, so classmates tried to pick on him. And Drew had never been good at sports or schoolwork, because just surviving had been tough enough.

He gazed at his brother, and thought about the nasty glances in the lunchroom. The snickers out on the playground.

Fed up, he’d shouldered one kid aside as they lined up to go back inside after recess, just as a warning.

He hoped the kids here learned quick. Anyone who thought it cool to hassle his brother or taunt Lily about her limp would have to deal with him. And then he’d end up in trouble himself, like always—with the usual lectures and detentions that had dogged him at every school.

“It’s Erin,” Tyler announced, his voice filled with relief at the sight of her navy Windstar pulling up in front of the school. He hopped off the bench and stood next to Drew. “Don’t say nothing ’bout school.”

Oh, I won’t, Drew thought grimly. To Tyler, he just nodded.

Erin smiled at them as they climbed into the van and buckled their seat belts. “So how did your first day go?”

“Okay,” Lily murmured.

In the backseat, Tyler and Drew exchanged glances.

“Boys?”

Drew caught her looking at them in the rearview mirror, her brow furrowed. She seemed tired and worried, and he wondered if she’d had a bad day, too. Only where she worked, she was the boss—so she could fire anybody who gave her any crap. The thought of that kind of power made Drew clench his fist, thinking of a few guys at school.

When she didn’t pull away from the curb, he finally mumbled, “It was okay. I guess.”

“Good.” She drummed her fingers lightly on the top of the steering wheel. “You know, I was thinking…we worked so hard this weekend, getting moved in. Maybe we could do something fun. Unless, of course,” she added somberly, “you have too much homework.”

Lily beamed at her. “Nope!”

“It isn’t really the first day, though—the other kids have been at it a week now. What sort of makeup assignments do you have so far?”

“Just some reading…and a math assignment. Not much,” she said earnestly. “It won’t take long.”

“Tyler?”

“Just some work sheets.”

“Drew?”

He couldn’t hold back his snort of disgust. “Another one of those ‘what did you do last summer?’ papers. And a bunch of work sheets, but they aren’t due till Friday.”

“Hmm.”

“So, what did you want to do, huh?” Lily tugged at Erin’s sleeve. “We got time.”

Smiling mysteriously, Erin drove slowly down Main and pulled up in front of the Realtor’s building. “Just wait a minute.”

She locked their doors and disappeared inside the building, but was back in only a few seconds. “No luck,” she said as she slid behind the wheel. “I don’t have a phone number for the owner of our cabin and I’d hoped the Realtor might have heard from him by now.”

“About a dog?”

Erin nodded. “I’m sorry, guys. I’d hoped we could go looking today. Anyone up for getting some pizza before we head out of town?”

Scowling, Drew slumped down in his seat. Promises. They never meant much—he’d learned that a long time ago.

“DO YOU NEED ANYTHING else?” The slender young woman shot a surreptitious glance at her wristwatch as she hesitated at the door of Erin’s office. Eager, Erin knew, to race out the front door of Blackberry Hill Memorial to meet her boyfriend, who lingered at the curb in his red Mustang every day at noon.

“I think I’ve got enough for now, Beth,” Erin said dryly, waving a hand over the stack of files on her desk. “Check in with me when you get back.”

“Madge is back from lunch, so I’ll let her know what you’ve been doing, just in case you need anything.” Beth waggled her fingers and hurried down the hallway, her heels clicking against the polished terrazzo floor.

Sighing, Erin rounded her desk and shut the door, then continued looking through the files. She’d known that the hospital was in trouble before accepting the job. Now, on her fourth day here, she was learning just how much. The picture was bleak.

With operating losses exceeding twelve percent of patient revenue, and fewer than eight hundred admissions per year, there were definite challenges ahead. And on the second Thursday of October, she’d be standing before the board to explain what was wrong and how she planned to fix it.

No small task, she thought grimly, flipping through another file.

This was her first time at the helm, and success here would mean she could move upward if this town didn’t suit. Failure would dog her forever and limit her chances at making a good, secure living for her children.

At a soft rap on the door, she glanced up. “Come in,” she called out, “it’s open.”

Madge Wheeler bustled in, her bulky frame encased in a heavy, hand-knit red sweater and plaid skirt. Sparkly crystal earrings dangled beneath a cloud of curly gray hair. “Beth told me to drop in.”

“Thanks. I do have a few questions.” Erin tipped her head toward the stack of employee files. “How long have you been here?”

Madge pulled a chair up to the front edge of Erin’s desk. “It’s all there. I started here as a teenager, helping in the kitchen. Worked my way into the front office, from receptionist to clerk, and after thirty years, I became the office manager.”

“And Grace Fisher?”

“Director of nursing for thirty-five years. Retiring this year, she says, though she’s been saying that for a while now and she never gets around to it.” Madge’s voice was filled with pride. “This hospital has continuity. None of those fly-by-night employees here today, gone tomorrow. We have good people and they stay. Newest one on the payroll is the Baxter girl, just out of high school, but the average employee has been here for seventeen years. I know, because I wrote up a report for the hospital’s fiftieth anniversary last year.”

Erin frowned. “I need to meet with you and Grace soon—tomorrow, if possible. I also need to have a meeting with the medical staff. Can you set up a date?”

Madge pursed her lips. “Something wrong?”

Nothing that more patients and fewer employees couldn’t cure, but given the small town and the longevity of the staff, change wasn’t going to be easy.

“I know you and Grace have been here a long time—you two are the true experts on the hospital and what makes it tick. I’m sure you’re both aware that we’ve got to look for ways to turn this place around, or it could go under.”

Madge’s expression grew wary. “A town this size isn’t ever going to have a big city hospital. No one expects that here.”

“But the board does expect it to break even. If it folds, and the entire patient load goes to Henderson Regional, this town will lose a very important public service for young and old alike.”

“True…”

“I’m counting on you and Grace to work with me as a team. I want this place to succeed just as much as you do.” Erin picked up a pile of papers and tapped them into a neat stack. “I want to find effective solutions. Ones that will protect jobs here and provide better service to the community.”

The older woman drew herself up. “Mr. Randall ran a tight ship,” she huffed. “We never had a penny missing, and he was well liked in this town.”

But that didn’t make him a good manager. From what Erin had found so far, it appeared that her predecessor had spent more time socializing on the golf course than tending to business. She’d called a number of times to ask questions before taking this job, and quickly realized that he came in late and left early, and also seemed to have a lot of “business lunches.”

“I’m sure he did well,” Erin said carefully. “But sometimes a little change is a good thing, don’t you think?”

“I’ll continue to do my best,” Madge said stiffly as she rose to her feet. “Grace has the day off tomorrow, but I’m sure she can meet with us Monday.”

“Sounds good.”

“The doctors have a weekly breakfast at Ollie’s Diner on Thursday mornings, so that might be a good place to meet them. Otherwise, trying to find a time when they could all be at the hospital together would likely set back your meeting a good three weeks.”

“Isn’t a diner a little too public?”

Madge waved away her concern. “They always use the booth at the back, past the ice machine and the bathrooms. No one could listen in even if they wanted to.” She tapped her pencil against her front teeth. “I’ll go do some calling and make sure they all plan to meet next week.”

“That would be fine. Thanks.” Erin watched the woman leave, then flipped open another file and began poring over the names and numbers before her.

Of the seven board members, Hadley had been the most supportive of her, Dr. Olson had been rather cool and Dr. Anderson had been openly dubious about her qualifications. The mayor and the others had been more enthusiastic.

Erin would succeed at revitalizing the Blackberry Hill hospital whether or not she had full cooperation from everyone involved, but so far, it wasn’t looking like an easy job.

And with a family to support, she couldn’t afford to fail.

STARING OUT AT THE BRIGHT Saturday morning sunshine, Connor Reynolds whistled to his old yellow lab, Maisie, and waited until he heard her toenails click across the kitchen flooring before he opened the door wide for her to join him on the porch.

He took a deep breath, smelling pine and damp earth. Peace. Quiet. Here, he had complete solitude, except for the dog and a few larks trilling from the tops of the pine trees surrounding his house.

The days were long. The nights…longer. But despite everything that had happened, at least he had this, and life was good. At last.

The sudden jolt from the past—seeing Stephanie’s studious little cousin a week ago—had startled him, bringing back too many unwanted memories, and the irony of seeing Erin with three beautiful, healthy children had reopened old wounds. He hadn’t even trusted himself to speak.

After graduating from medical school, he’d worked tirelessly to establish a successful practice. Tried so hard to make his marriage work. Imagined a home bustling with children and a wife who loved him. Who would have guessed quiet little Erin would end up with the richer life?

Or that she would have changed so much. He remembered her as a petite little thing with glasses and her brown hair pulled back into a severe ponytail. Now, her hair was very short, accenting her big brown eyes and delicate features—like a young Audrey Hepburn in blue jeans. She couldn’t be more different from Stephanie’s blond, hard-edged sophistication.

With luck Erin was just passing through town. He didn’t need a constant reminder of how he’d failed.

Reaching down to stroke the dog’s soft coat, he stepped off the porch and started toward his favorite trail at a jog, Maisie at his side.

Already the leaves were turning, the dark pines a perfect foil for the splashes of crimson and orange of the maples, the bright yellow of the aspens. The bowed grass was slick with first frost; the damp earth and fallen pine needles released their heady perfume as he ran.

The crisp, early September air burned in his lungs as he continued up the track, dodging rough-edged boulders and fallen trees.

At the top of the rugged, rocky slope above his property he stopped briefly to let the old dog catch her breath.

It was his favorite place, this craggy peak. An hour or so to the east lay the Upper Peninsula of Michigan. To the north, Canada. There was almost a holy atmosphere here, with a view of thousands of acres of pine forest and lakes in every direction. The vast reaches of northern Wisconsin made him feel small. Inconsequential. Made his past seem like nothing more than a minor flaw in the cosmos. Here, he—

From behind him came a loud whoop and a holler, and the sound of what had to be a hundred kids racing up the trail. Branches cracked. Pebbles skittered down the rocky precipice behind him.

The interlopers—two vaguely familiar, bedraggled and dirt-smudged boys—skidded to a stop when they caught sight of Connor and the dog. Maisie, never much of a guard dog to begin with, promptly flopped over on her back and thumped her tail, her tongue lolling in a blatant appeal for attention.

The kids glanced uncertainly at each other, then took a step back.

“Who are you?” Connor asked sharply. A keen awareness of the dangers in this rough terrain, coupled with the surprise at seeing two children—alone—gave his voice an edge that sent the boys back another step. He softened his tone. “Are your parents with you?”

The two exchanged glances again—probably sensing the danger of telling that to a stranger—and the taller one leveled a defiant glare at Connor.

“Boys, you can’t—”

But they both spun and raced down the trail, the sound of them skidding and crashing through the brush gradually fading away until the silence was almost too great.

Obviously disappointed, Maisie lumbered to her feet and gave Connor a reproachful look.

“I didn’t mean to scare them, girl.” He stared pensively in the direction they’d gone, remembering the family he’d almost had. That younger boy was probably about the same age as his own would have been….

After Stephanie’s death he’d immersed himself in his career. He’d worked out every day until he was aching and exhausted. Ran until his lungs burned, then he’d traveled for months. Nothing helped. His grief and guilt had haunted him for over a year after he lost her.

It was clear he wasn’t cut out for parenthood. He’d failed his wife, his unborn son, and even now his dog was better with kids than he was.

Cursing under his breath—knowing that the nightmares would be back tonight—he whistled sharply to Maisie and headed farther up the trail at a faster pace.

CHAPTER THREE

AT THE SOUND OF FOOTSTEPS coming up the front steps, Erin froze.

The dead-end lane leading to her house meant no one ever simply drove by. It was dark and quiet out here—even now, at eight o’clock in the evening. What had possessed her to choose such an isolated location?

Lily and Tyler, playing with their newest LEGO set in a corner of the dining area, looked up at Erin, then exchanged worried glances when the caller knocked on the door.

She gave them a reassuring smile and, moving to the entryway, pulled back the lacy curtain from the window in the door and flipped on the porch light.

Connor?

A stranger might have been preferable to finding him standing there, his expression cold and distant. What on earth was he doing here?

Taking a deep breath, she unlocked the door and released the safety chain. “Yes?”

His eyes widened. “Erin?”

The awkward moment lengthened as they stared at each other.

“This is the guy.” Drew came to stand next to her, his chin lifted at a belligerent angle. “The one we saw in town that first day, and then yesterday, in the woods. I told you!”

Erin rested a hand on Drew’s tense shoulder. “Kids, I’d like you to meet Dr. Connor Reynolds.” She introduced each of the children, then frowned at Connor. “The boys said you seemed angry at them and that you looked ‘really mean.’”

“I sure didn’t intend to frighten them.” Connor gave a low laugh. “And I’m not sure how ‘mean’ I could have seemed, with Maisie begging them to pet her.” He snapped his fingers, and a huge yellow lab appeared in the doorway at his side, her eyes warm and friendly and her tail wagging. “They were a long ways from here, in a fairly rugged area. I only asked them if their parents were close by, and they took off running.” He lowered his voice. “You may have heard about the wolves around here. I’ve seen fresh tracks several times since last weekend, and I was worried about the boys being alone.”

Frowning, Erin studied Drew. “You were supposed to stay within sight of the house.”

“We didn’t go far,” Drew retorted, a dark flush rising in his cheeks.

His gaze dropped, and she knew he was hedging. “You didn’t follow the rules, then. We’ll talk about this later.”

Drew glared at Connor. “Yeah, right—like we did anything wrong. Big deal.”

“Why don’t you boys go on upstairs while I talk to Dr. Reynolds,” she said firmly. She turned back to Connor as his words registered. “When I saw you in town, I assumed you were just vacationing. You live around here?”

“I moved into my uncle Ed’s place on the hill a week ago.” Connor cleared his throat. “He owns all of the surrounding property, including this cabin, and Hazel down at Dolby Realty said you had some questions. I’m not sure if I can help, but…”

“Ed Hadley is your uncle? I knew you were from northern Wisconsin, but…” Her thoughts spinning, Erin stared at him before finally finding her voice again. “I—I’m sorry. Please, come in.”

He hesitated, then stepped inside the hallway.

There’d never been much love lost between Stephanie’s wealthy family and Erin’s. Though they’d been related, the social chasm between them had been far too great, and the families barely knew one another. After college graduation, Erin had only seen her second cousin at a few rare reunions, and with the exception of the brief encounter at Stephanie’s funeral, she hadn’t run into Connor at all.

When had he grown so tall, so broad through his chest and shoulders? She hadn’t noticed at the funeral, but maturity had added layers of muscle and an air of confident masculinity, and the years had sculpted his face into rugged, intriguing angles.

His silver-blue eyes, framed with thick black lashes and sweeping brows, had changed most of all. The careless sensuality of youth was now shadowed with experience and hints of hidden pain. Intriguing.

He was far more polite today than when she’d seen him last, but she knew what lurked beneath the handsome surface of this man. Flustered, she asked, “Are…you’re planning to practice in Blackberry Hill?”

“I start covering Ed’s clinic tomorrow, but just for the next three months or so, while he considers retirement.”

“Retirement?” The dapper old skunk had never once mentioned that he was planning to take off before she ever arrived, leaving a nephew in his place.

A nephew, Erin thought grimly, whom she could have happily avoided for the rest of her life without a moment of regret. “Dr. Hadley and I met when I interviewed here. He convinced me to take my job at the hospital, and then offered me his rental house. I looked forward to working with him.”

Something akin to wariness flashed across Connor’s face. “You’re working at the hospital?”

“Right. I guess we’ll run into each other, if you admit any patients.” She gave him a forced smile. “I’m the new administrator.”

“I didn’t recognize your married name. Congratulations.” His handshake was warm and strong, though he didn’t appear delighted over the news.

“Thanks.”

“Ask him,” Lily stage-whispered into the growing silence. “Please?”

Shaking off her odd reaction to Connor’s touch, Erin tipped her head toward Lily. “The kids have been begging for a dog. I’d feel safer with one around, but the Realtor found a clause in the fine print of my contract stating no pets. Can you ask Ed for me?”

Probably without conscious thought, Connor’s fingers had been rubbing Maisie behind her ears and under her collar. Now, he looked down at the dog with open affection, and she lifted her nose to return that obvious adoration in full measure. “Go ahead. I’m sure it’ll be okay.”

“But the contract.” Erin had to raise her voice to be heard over Lily’s whoops of excitement. “Should we—”

“I’m sure you and the kids will take care of any problems a dog might cause. Ed gave me free rein here, because he’s so confident I’ll decide to buy him out.” Connor laughed. “I guess he doesn’t know me that well.”

And I don’t, either. Not anymore. “So you’ll be leaving this winter?”

He shrugged. “I might find some rural area out West…or head back to the bright lights and big city. I have no desire to settle in one place.”

A city—exactly what she planned to avoid. After Erin’s small-town childhood, the bustle and crime and anonymity of city life made her feel dehumanized and alone no matter how many people jostled her at a bus stop or shoved past her on a busy sidewalk.

This town already felt like home, and knowing Connor Reynolds would soon be on his way out of Blackberry Hill should have given her a sense of peace.

So how could she possibly feel regret?

FACING MADGE WHEELER and Grace Fisher across a conference table on Monday morning made Erin feel as if she was taking a stand against two elderly but determined bulldogs. Both of them were a good two hundred pounds of solid experience and steely determination.

And both of them were looking back at her with narrowed eyes and pursed lips, clearly suspicious of her intentions.

“This hospital has provided good service to our town for over fifty years,” Madge said stubbornly. “I don’t see how changing everything is a good idea.”

Grace, the less defensive of the two, merely gave Erin a patient smile. “Maybe it’s a good idea, trying to get more specialists out here. But they aren’t going to come. George tried that years ago.”

“We need more admissions. We need more revenue. In a town that hasn’t grown more than five percent during the past three years, we can’t count on a population increase to make it happen.” Erin tapped a forefinger on the table. “This is a resort area. A place where people buy cabins on water and spend long weekends away from the city. I’ve seen some incredible homes along the lake. Who lives in those places?”

“Weekenders from Chicago or Milwaukee or Minneapolis.” Madge gave an airy wave of her hand. “Some fly private planes and land out at the municipal airport just east of town.”

Grace chuckled. “Such as it is. It’s a grass strip out on the Lindstrom farm, and there’s just one approach. You get a crosswind there and landing is enough to scare you right out of your girdle.”

Erin looked out the windows at a wall of pine trees. “It’s a beautiful area. There are bound to be some specialists who already vacation here—or who’d be interested in a tax write-off. They could work a day or so, a couple times a month, then have a weekend place on the lake to relax. Not to mention physicians from the Green Bay area who could come hold specialty clinics.”

“Why, when there’s not enough patients here now?” Madge snorted. “What good would that do?”

“Where do people go for an oncologist, cardiologist or allergist? How far do they need to drive?”

“An hour or more,” Grace said slowly. “But they’re already established patients in other clinics by now.”

Erin ran a finger down a column of figures on the paper in front of her. “We’ve got just five thousand residents in this town, but I figure there must be another ten thousand or more in our market area. People who could become loyal to this hospital. Who could use doctors who’d admit them here for in-patient care.”

Madge and Grace exchanged uncomfortable glances.

“What?” Erin urged, when neither of them spoke. “We’re here to discuss possibilities. Adding specialty clinics would certainly help.”

“But it probably won’t happen,” Grace said with a long, drawn-out sigh. “There’s some bad history here, over this same sort of thing.”

An oppressive weight settled into Erin’s chest as she studied the grim faces across the table. “Tell me.”

Grace fiddled with a pencil. “Ten years back, the neighboring town had a hospital like this one—both of them struggling, both competing for patients. Neither was big enough for a full-time physician on staff, so the doctors all rotated through scheduled times to be there—just like we handle things here now. Everyone wanted something better for their own community.”

“Our old administrator—the guy before George—made big promises,” Madge added. “Talked about a new lab and radiology unit, and state-of-the-art equipment. Said he was going to have a beautiful new medical clinic built next door, and talked some of the doctors into investing heavily.”