and he knows how to get the most out of his workers. I wish more of our directors were like that. We’re ahead of the initial schedule by at least three weeks.” Estelle’s sharp, decisive voice with its gravelly timbre held the familiarity of some of Mercy’s earliest memories. Estelle and Mercy’s mom, Ivy, had been friends since they attended Knolls Elementary School together.
“He hired three more men last week at my request,” she continued.
“Why do that if they’re already ahead of schedule?”
“Because I want the job done sooner. I hope to see our emergency department up and running by the end of February if possible.”
“You’ll probably get what you want,” Mercy said.
A pleased smile flitted across Estelle’s face and was gone quickly. When she was in fighting form—which was all the time, even right after her near-death experience in the explosion—she could take on an Angus bull.
“I see you’re still working out of the storeroom,” Mercy said.
Estelle took a sip of the coffee and grimaced. “And that is where our offices will stay until the rest of the hospital is complete. Patients come before carpeting and wallpaper, and if anyone wants to complain, they can come and talk to me.”
Mercy laughed. “If that happens I want to be there to see it.” Before Estelle became hospital administrator five and a half years ago, she had been prosecuting attorney for Knolls County. A handful of people in the area who had found themselves on the wrong side of the law resented her. The rest loved and respected her, and Mercy was one of them. Estelle represented safety and stability in their small town, and Knolls Community Hospital was now one of the best small hospitals in the state—and would be again, once the damaged areas were rebuilt.
“So,” Estelle said with a penetrating look at Mercy, “I don’t like the looks of those dark circles under your eyes. Can you get Lukas back here to help us out until then? Both of us need him.”
Mercy felt the truth of those words, but she knew her own personal need to have him in her life was not what Estelle meant.
The administrator put the coffee cup down and poured in some powdered creamer, stirred it, tasted again, and nodded, satisfied. “Think of your patients if you refuse to think about your own health. We need our E.R. doctor available for them. Even with the additional lab and X-ray capabilities in your clinic, you can’t do it all yourself. There isn’t another E.R. within an hour of here.”
“There are other doctors in town.”
“Yes,” Estelle snapped, “and they’re complaining about being overworked, but I don’t see any circles under their eyes.”
“They aren’t going through menopause,” Mercy said.
“Maybe you wouldn’t be, either, yet, if you didn’t have so much stress. We need another doctor, and Lukas should realize that just by talking to you.” She paused and gave Mercy a thoughtful, penetrating glance. “You two are still seeing each other, aren’t you?”
Sometimes Mercy wondered if Estelle had some mind-reading ability. “Mom’s been talking to you about me again.”
Estelle shrugged. “Ivy knows you’re being overwhelmed at the clinic. She worries about you.”
“That doesn’t give her any rights to interfere in hospital politics.”
“She’s doing what any concerned mother would do.”
Mercy could only shrug and shake her head. Her mother was a generous benefactress of the hospital, and sometimes, when she found some strings she wanted to pull, she used her advantage.
“I’ve taken steps to help with the overload,” Mercy said. “I hired Lauren McCaffrey to work at the clinic until the E.R. is operational again. She’s a good E.R. nurse. She’s taking up a lot of the slack.”
“She’s not on call twenty-four hours a day like you are,” Estelle said. “Get Lukas back here, for all our sakes.”
“I’m not sure he wants to come back.”
“Then convince him otherwise.”
“He’ll listen to you before he’ll listen to me.”
Estelle studied Mercy’s face for a moment and gave an astute nod. “But he’ll listen to you with his heart.” She laid a hand on Mercy’s shoulder and squeezed. “Bring him home, my dear. It’s where he needs to be.” She glanced at her watch. “I must get to early service before they start praying for my wayward soul. Then I have a day’s work in my office to complete.”
“Sounds like you need to practice what you preach,” Mercy said.
With a final pat on Mercy’s shoulder, Estelle poured the leftover coffee into the tiny sink in the corner, rinsed the cup in the sink and strode out of the room, leaving the scent of lavender in her wake.
Before Lukas ended his shift at 7:00 a.m. Sunday morning, he had treated three babies ranging from two weeks to three months. Their cries haunted him and made him think, once again, about Marla Moore’s missing baby. Judging by the conversation he overheard from other staff members, most people supposed the child had been kidnapped. Much suspicion hovered over the presence of the bikers so close to the scene of disappearance. The landlord was questioned at length, and the authorities had decided to autopsy Marla.
Lukas had been told by the police that the Missouri Special Crimes Unit had been called in. The delivering physician had been contacted and gave more information about Marla. She was nineteen, alone, frightened. The baby’s name was Jerod Andrew Moore. There was no father listed. Maternal grandparents were both deceased.
While treating the final patients of the shift for the usual assortment of January colds, influenzas and strep throats, Lukas hadn’t been able to forget the young woman’s deathly pale face.
He was just sitting down at the small workstation next to the nurses’ desk to chart his last patient when he heard a husky, easily recognizable female voice behind him.
“So…have they started initiation yet?”
He turned to see Tex striding toward him from exam room two, her scrubs stretched tightly across her shoulders. She did resemble her cousin, Lauren, in a superficial way, with those green eyes, straight white teeth and high cheekbones. But where Lauren had a delicate beauty that attracted men wherever she went, Tex had an independent nature about her that said “Back off.” Her physical stature added to the impression, with a voice to match, and a glare that could send a strong man reeling. She hadn’t aimed her look at Lukas, but he figured Quinn’s days were numbered.
“Initiation?” Lukas asked.
She pulled her chair out, turned it around and straddled it as if she were riding a horse. “We’ve got some juvenile delinquents on staff here that try to pass for human beings. They like to play practical jokes on the new guys, and you’re the newest.”
Lukas thought about the peanut butter sandwich he’d thrown away. “What kinds of practical jokes?”
“They let the air out of Dr. Moss’s tires and unscrewed the back of his chair so it would fall
