“She told me what a bad girl you were when you were young.”
“Maybe just a little bit. But I wasn’t in it alone. There was always another sister joining in, then blaming it all on me.”
“Who, me?” Mellette asked, laughing and holding her belly to stop it from jiggling.
“You, Sabine, Delphine, Ghislaine, Lisette or Acadia.”
Alain shook his head. “It’s hard to imagine your mother having seven of you and still running one of the best medical centers in the South.”
“We’re strong women,” Maggie said. “Had parents to support that in us.”
“Strong, as in overachievers?” he asked.
“Call it what you want,” Maggie went on. “But that’s who we are. My mother was raised in an era where women were just on the brink of coming into their own, only in her family, because they were of a certain social status …”
“And from a very traditional Southern family,” Mellette added.
“That, too,” Maggie agreed. “Anyway, what was expected from her was to be just like her mother, who was … I guess the best way to describe our grandmother is a social butterfly. That’s the way she was raised, and it was the world in which she raised our mother. For my grandmother, who is involved in more charitable work than anyone I’ve ever seen, it works. Her life exists for her causes, and she works hard at them, but she also finds time to sit down to tea with various friends every day of the week.
“But for my mother … that social hour of tea was wasted when there were things to do. She was hard-driven, I guess you could call her. So instead of following in the family tradition, she started one of her own. And we all seem to be following her example in one way or another.” She smiled, then added, “As overachievers.”
“So what about your family, Alain?”
“Teachers. My mother taught high school math and my father taught college chemistry. They’re both retired now, living in a condo on a Costa Rican beach.”
“No brothers or sisters?” Maggie asked.
“Just me. A late-in-life kid who surprised the hell out of my parents when I popped into their lives.”
“Sounds like an interesting story,” Mellette said.
“More like typical. We were just an ordinary family. No prestige. No bells and whistles.”
“But close?” Maggie asked.
“More so now than when I was younger. But I’ve grown up. It happens to most of us sooner or later.”
“And what do they think about you not practicing medicine any longer?” Maggie asked.
“Actually, they don’t know I’ve given up the stethoscope for a hammer. They think I’m in Louisiana practicing medicine, and as far as I’m concerned, that’s the way I want to leave it.”
Maggie gave him a questioning look. “Because they’re older?”
“Because they made a lot of sacrifices for me when I went to medical school, and I sure as hell don’t want them knowing they wasted their money.”
“It wasn’t wasted,” Mellette said, as Justin stepped out on the porch. “Look what you did for me. That, in and of itself, says a lot about your ability. Now all you need to do is let my sister get to work on your case and get you back where you belong on a full-time basis, rather than squeezing it in while you’re letting your drywall spackle dry.”
“My wife’s opinionated,” Justin said, taking Mellette by the arm and leading her down the stairs. “And on that note I’m going to wish you both a good afternoon and escort her home. The waiting room is cleared, and barring any emergencies or walk-ins, you’re free for the rest of the day. Although I wouldn’t count on it, because I heard that Ivy Comfort may be having a bout of rheumatism.” He smiled. “As they say, heard it through the grapevine, which is alive and well in these parts.”
Alain’s expression turned to panic. “I don’t treat rheumatism.”
“But I do,” Maggie said. “And it’s me she’ll want to be seeing for some special tea and maybe a liniment we make that’s—”
Alain held up his hand to stop her. “I’m going to trust that you know what you’re doing, and leave it at that. If Miss Comfort would like any medical treatment, I’ll be glad to see what I can do. Maybe prescribe a mild anti-inflammatory drug or—”
“She won’t take your prescription,” Maggie warned as Justin and Mellette walked away. “It’s been a real challenge here to prescribe traditional medicine. Most of the people are willing to tolerate it, since it’s all they can get without leaving the area. But we have a few holdouts who absolutely refuse to give in to modern ways, and Ivy Comfort just happens to be one of them. So Eula gave her some herbs that seemed to help, then Mellette took over after Eula died, and now that end of the practice is being passed along to me. Along with any regular nursing duties that come up.”
“Your family’s gotten so involved here. I wouldn’t have thought that, given your mother’s status, you’d have been inclined to.”
Maggie shrugged. “Initially, it was because my sister came to help out Justin’s grandmother, who was an herbal practitioner. The people here trusted her for over half a century, and when she died the position of herbal practitioner sort of fell to Mellette because the people here trusted her, too. They didn’t trust Justin, who wanted to practice nothing but traditional medicine, and a lot of them still haven’t come round to his way of thinking. But I suppose because Eula trusted Mellette, and I’m her sister, that’s why they trust me.”
“Then what’s that say about me? I’m just an interloping medical doctor who’s not going to put forth any kind of effort to prescribe herbs.”
“What it says is that you’ll have a tough time. There will be some who accept you unconditionally because you’re a doctor, and some who’ll accept you marginally because they trust Mellette, Justin and me. Then there will be those, like Ivy Comfort, who won’t even acknowledge you.” She smiled. “Ever.”
“Even if I prescribe an anti-inflammatory for her that does more for her than her herbs?”
“Even if you prescribe an anti-inflammatory for her that cures her rheumatism. That’s just the way she is. The way a lot of people here are, and you’ll have to accept it. As in not taking it personally when Ivy walks in that door and instructs you to fix her a cup of coffee.”
Alain laughed. “Actually, I make a pretty mean cup of coffee, so Miss Ivy and I might just hit it off.”
“Don’t count on it,” Maggie warned, smiling. She liked this man. Liked his seriousness, liked the way he fixed on his task. And, Lord knew, she’d watched a good bit of that these past few days.
“So what you’re telling me is that in order to get along in these parts, I’d be better off sticking to my carpentry work?”
“Probably.”
He smiled, and arched wicked, sexy eyebrows. “Then I guess
