Really big, fat ones. He said they’re too heavy for me.”
Jill put a hand on her son’s small shoulder. “I’m sorry if I worried you, Brew. He neglected to tell me where he was going.”
“Figured that.” The man’s pale blue eyes narrowed. “If he had, you’d have put a stop to it.”
This man knew her better than anyone, knew how hard it had been when she’d been left behind by the doctor. He was the one who’d held her when she cried.
The door at the top of the stairs opened and heavy footsteps sounded on the wood tread behind them. There was only one person it could be.
“C.J.? You forgot these.” Adam handed over Batman and Captain America action figures. He nodded at Brew. “Hi.”
The older man’s eyes narrowed on the new guy in town. “You’re the renter.”
“Yeah.” He held out his hand. “Adam Stone.”
“Brewster Smith,” he answered, taking the offered hand.
“Nice to meet you.”
“Hope you still think that when I say what’s on my mind.”
“Okay. Shoot.”
“This woman is like a daughter to me.” Brewster’s face was all warning, no warmth. “Treat her right or I won’t be a happy man.”
“You’re already not happy,” Adam pointed out cheerfully, apparently not intimidated at all.
“If you do anything to hurt her, I’ll be a whole lot not happier. And that goes for a lot of folks in town, too.” The older man’s gaze never wavered, before he abruptly turned and walked down the front porch steps. At the bottom he headed in the direction of the marina.
“Nice guy,” Adam said. “Straightforward.”
“He’s a good friend.”
Jill was grateful for his friendship and something else, too. The town was circling the wagons around her. It wasn’t the first time this had happened, but it still made her very happy. In the case of Dr. Adam Stone it made her incredibly grateful. He’d done nothing to anesthetize her attraction and she’d need all the protection those circled wagons could give her.
Chapter Two
Adam had just seen his last patient on his first day at the clinic. He wouldn’t say this was the worst day he’d ever had as a doctor, but moving from Texas and unpacking boxes had been a piece of cake compared to cutting through the glacial attitude of the people he’d seen today. Of course none of those people had been C. J. Beck, who couldn’t have been cuter or friendlier, unlike his mom. Except for the cute part. Jill was more than cute. And that was nothing more than a guy’s appreciative take on a very pretty, very sexy woman.
The surroundings were different from any office he’d ever worked in. Mercy Medical Clinic was set up in a large Victorian house that had been donated to the town years ago. The kitchen had been turned into an outpatient lab and the spacious living room now had sofas, chairs and tables for a waiting area. Bedrooms had been converted to exam rooms, and closets held medical and office supplies. That morning he’d had the two-cent tour from nurse Virginia Irvin, who was no warmer than the patients he’d seen. She was like a glacier in scrubs.
He grabbed a cup of coffee from the break area in the small alcove near the back door that was once a mudroom, then went back down the long hallway, past the exam rooms and to his office. It was time to catch up on paperwork.
So as not to keep patients waiting too long, there hadn’t been time to do more than look at the updated medical information form he’d asked each patient to fill out and skim the chart for drug allergies. Now he wanted to look at all the information on each person he’d seen, including notes from the physicians who’d come before him. Including “the last doctor.”
Those words worked on his nerves like something in his eye that wouldn’t come out. Everyone he’d seen today had said it and in exactly the tone Jill used, the one that put him in the same slimy subspecies as the physician who’d run out on her and the rest of the town.
“There you are, Doctor.”
He looked up from the stack of charts on his desk. Mercy Medical Clinic’s nurse stood in the doorway. “Hi, Ginny.”
“It’s Virginia.”
Apparently only to him, because everyone who wasn’t gum on the bottom of her shoe called her Ginny. Somewhere in her late fifties or early sixties, she had silver hair cut in a pixie, blue eyes that missed nothing and no filter between her brain and her mouth. At least one knew where one stood with her. In his case, he was pretty sure she wished he was standing in Alaska. She was short on stature and long on attitude.
“Can I ask you something, Virginia?”
“Thought doctors knew everything. Like God.” She folded her arms over her chest, and the body language felt like a yes to his question, so he continued.
“We just pretend to know everything. It makes the patients feel better.” Maybe self-deprecation would thaw her out.
“Uh-huh.”
Maybe not so much. “As a boy I spent a lot of summers here in Blackwater Lake and folks seemed a lot friendlier.”
She looked down at him. “We’re not in the habit of being mean to kids, especially ones who are visiting.”
“So the friendly pill wears off when that kid grows up and moves here?”
“Something like that.”
He was the new guy and she knew this clinic and everyone who used it inside and out, by all accounts an excellent nurse who would be difficult to replace. So he hid his frustration when he asked, “Can you be more specific?”
The gaze she leveled at him could laser a person’s heart out. “It would help if you looked less like the good-looking actor in that space movie and more like Quasimodo.”
Huh? There was a compliment in there somewhere, but he’d need a scalpel to remove it. “I’m not sure what you mean by that.”
“Then I’ll explain.” She moved farther into the room. “If you were ugly as a mud fence and didn’t rent a place from Jill Beck, folks here in town would give you the benefit of the doubt. But that’s not the case. The last doctor—”
“Didn’t stick,” he interrupted. “Jill mentioned that.”
“She’s one of ours,” the nurse continued. “Her mother was my best friend since third grade. The last thing I said to Dottie before she died was that I’d watch out for her little girl and her grandson.”
Adam remembered what Brewster had said and figured Virginia and the patients he’d seen today were some of the folks who’d be a whole lot not happy if Jill got hurt.
“What happened to her mom?” he asked.
“Breast
