for us and for them.” Her voice grew more impassioned as she continued. “Besides, we’re just a simple hospital. One huge lawsuit could ruin us and force us to close our doors.”
“There’s never been a lawsuit against the hospital,” Peter said, in case she was ignorant of the fact.
“That doesn’t mean that there couldn’t be,” Bethany pointed out. “People are a great deal more litigation-crazy than they were when your father joined the staff here. With a conglomerate like NHC taking Walnut River General under its protective wing, we’re all but invulnerable.”
The other board members in the room faded into the background. One attempted to say something, but Peter ignored him. Because Walnut River General meant so much to his father, to him, this had suddenly become personal.
“And where does the patient fit in with all this?” Peter wanted to know. How could someone who looked like an angel be so cold?
“The patient is the one who benefits,” Bethany insisted. She clearly thought he was oblivious to that. “NHC puts us on the map, makes us eligible to receive grants, updates our equipment, perhaps even gets us state-of-the-art equipment. You can’t possibly ignore that.”
“No,” Peter agreed. “Updated equipment is extremely important, but that’s what we have fund-raisers for. And so far, they’ve done pretty well by us.”
The man just wasn’t getting the big picture. He thought too small. “Personal donations,” she said. “Think how much more we could do with allotments from a conglomerate with bottomless pockets.”
He wondered if she was actually that naive, or if it was a matter of her being heartless. He preferred thinking it was the former, but he had a feeling he was wrong. “Isn’t that a little like selling our souls for thirty pieces of silver?”
Wallace cleared his throat, getting them to both look in his direction for a moment and breaking the growing tension.
“Aren’t you being a little dramatic, Peter?” Wallace asked.
“No, I’m being pragmatic,” he responded. “I didn’t go to medical school to practice assembly-line medicine.” His main focus wasn’t Wallace, it was Bethany. He wanted to make her understand, to see the flaw in the way she thought. “The doctors here treat the whole patient, they don’t deal with him or her piecemeal. I don’t want some accounting analyst holding a stopwatch and looking over my shoulder, telling me that I need to move faster or I’ll wind up pulling the hospital’s batting average down.”
“There’s nothing wrong with seeing more patients,” Bethany insisted.
“There is if you wind up shortchanging them because you have a quota to meet or a schedule to live up to. Can’t you see that?”
Bethany’s eyes flashed angrily. Was he accusing her of being obtuse? She’d never reacted well to criticism. She’d had to put up with a lot of it while she’d been growing up. She didn’t have to anymore.
“You’re ignoring all the benefits that being part of an organization like Northeastern Healthcare can provide for the hospital. They have access to far more facilities than we do.”
“Looks like someone has done their homework,” Wallace said. There was no missing the admiration in his voice or the approving look on the chairman’s face as he looked at Bethany.
Was Wallace for the takeover, or was he just trying to score points with Bethany? Peter wondered in mounting frustration.
He didn’t often lose his patience, but his father’s death had changed the rules and shaken him down to his very foundation.
“Then give her a gold star, Wallace, but don’t give NHC the hospital. Everyone will regret it if you do, most of all, the patients.” Peter rose from his chair. The legs scraped along the floor as he pushed it back from the table. “Now, if you will all please excuse me, I have patients waiting to see me.”
It was only by calling up the greatest restraint that he didn’t slam the door behind him as he left.
Chapter Four
Bethany could feel the vibrations created by Peter’s exit long after he’d left the room. Even after the meeting had abruptly broken up less than fifteen minutes later. Until she’d witnessed Wilder’s reaction she’d figured the takeover to be a slam dunk.
So much for intuition.
She wouldn’t have thought it to look at him, but Wilder was positively archaic. The man was standing in the way of progress, pure and simple. He was obviously so stuck in the past, he refused to open his eyes and see the future, or even acknowledge, much less read the handwriting on the wall.
Bethany’s mouth curved as she walked down the fourth-floor corridor. It looked like it was up to her to make the temporary chief of staff see the error of his ways. She’d made up her mind about that the moment the meeting broke up. All the other board members already had some sort of relationship with Peter and seemed obviously wary of upsetting him, whether because they liked him, or were still treading on eggshells because of his father’s recent death. Just as possibly, their hesitation arose out of respect for the late James Wilder.
Whatever the reason, she didn’t know and she didn’t care. No single person should be allowed to stand in the way of bettering a situation that ultimately affected so many just because clearly he viewed all change as bad and something to be avoided.
She knew people like Peter, had dealt with them before. People so set in their ways they felt there was no true path except the one they were standing on. They were stuck there, like the prehistoric creatures had been in the La Brea tar pits. The only difference was, the animals hadn’t wanted to be stuck—they’d wandered in and had no choice. Wilder had a choice and he’d focused on the wrong one.
Knowing she couldn’t confront the man while he was seeing patients, Bethany positioned herself outside his office a few minutes before noon. She assumed that, like every other physician she had ever known, he would break for lunch around that time. So she waited.
At one o’clock, she was still waiting.
Mystified, Bethany moved to the door and tried the knob, intending to check whether Wilder was still actually in his office or had somehow managed to leave by a back door without her knowing it. Her hand was on the knob when the door suddenly opened. Jerked forward, she stumbled and found herself bumping up against the doctor full force.
He was quick to grab her by the shoulders so the collision wouldn’t send her falling backward. Caught off guard, she sucked in her breath, stifling a noise that sounded very much like a gasp.
She wasn’t accustomed to being at an awkward, physical disadvantage. She liked being in control. Complete poise had been her credo since college. To her credit, she managed to collect herself almost immediately.
“Oh, Dr. Wilder—”
“That’s what it says on the door,” he acknowledged, unable to see why she should sound so surprised at seeing him walk out of his own office. Ever the doctor, his dark eyes swept over her, checking for any minor signs of damage or bruising. There were none visible. Still, he asked, “Are you all right?”
“Yes.” Bethany brushed absently
