He left the door open, then went to the sink to wash his hands. “Hi, Miss Hoffman. I’m Dr. McKnight.”
“Please, call me Cherri.”
And you can call me Dr. McKnight, he thought, but couldn’t say it. “What seems to be the problem?”
“I think I twisted my ankle.”
“Let me take a look.” He sat on the rolling stool and moved toward her, and the very high heels she was wearing. That was the first clue she was faking. He looked at both legs. “Which one hurts?”
“The left.”
He looked in the chart where Ginny had noted that, per the patient, the injury was to the right ankle. “I don’t see any swelling or trauma.”
Cherri stuck her leg out. “Maybe you can feel something.”
He could feel it was a sham without touching her or looking at an X-ray. “Why don’t you walk across the room for me?”
“All right.”
She slid to the step at the end of the table, then stepped to the floor with an exaggerated wince as her right leg took her weight. Turning toward the doorway, she limped on the right leg. After a pivot she came back and favored the opposite side before stopping at the exam table next to him.
She blinked her big blue eyes. “What do you think, Doctor?”
God, he hated this. Several times a week this happened. He wanted to tell her not to waste his time. This wasn’t a game and he wouldn’t order needless diagnostic tests or prescribe medication for a nonexistent condition. But he was a professional and couldn’t say any of that.
“I don’t think it’s serious.” He kept his tone neutral with an effort. “When it bothers you, take over-the-counter medication for pain. Elevate it and alternate cold and heat.”
“Thank you. I’m so relieved it’s nothing serious.”
It was serious, but not in a way she would understand. He stood and headed for the door. “All right, then. Have a good day.”
“Wait.” She moved quickly to stop him. “Don’t I need to see you again? Another appointment? Or something?”
“No. I’m sure you’ll be fine.”
She lifted a covered casserole dish from the chair next to the door beside her purse. “This is for you. I thought you being a bachelor and a busy doctor that you might like something home-cooked.”
“Thank you.” He took it but couldn’t manage a smile. “Goodbye.”
“Are you going to call me? To see how I’m doing?”
“I’m sure you’re fine.”
Before she could stop him again, he walked out, down the hall to the break room. Once safely inside, he shut the door. There was a refrigerator on the wall beside it and he opened the freezer, then shoved the food in with the five or six others there. The fridge was running out of room.
Ginny was sitting at the oak table having a cup of coffee. “We usually leave that door open.”
“I know.” If only it had a lock.
“Are you hiding?”
“Damn straight,” he said.
“How’d it go with Cherri Lyn?”
“Same as always. Couldn’t keep the limp consistent.” He leaned back against the counter. “That’s actually a good thing, because otherwise it would have been tempting to order unnecessary X-rays just to be sure.”
Ginny’s blue eyes sparked with mischief. “So, are you going to call her?”
“Of course not. What she did is inherently dishonest. You can never trust someone like that.”
Talking about trust made him think of Cam, who clearly had issues with it. As far as he could tell her checkered past was isolated in her rebellious youth. Anyone should get a pass on that. Now she seemed straightforward and sincere. He couldn’t picture her faking a medical problem. In fact, he’d seen her do a number on her foot and refuse to let him look it over. He wouldn’t mind seeing her any time, for any reason. Or no reason.
He looked at Ginny. “I’m losing my patience.”
“From where I’m sitting, patients of the female persuasion are on the rise here at Mercy Medical Clinic.”
“You know what I mean.” He snapped out the words, then drew in a deep cleansing breath. “Sorry. But I’m really frustrated with this situation. This is a medical facility, not a speed-dating event. I have a professional reputation to maintain.”
“You’ve got a reputation, and being a doctor is only part of it. The other part is bachelor.”
“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”
“Yes.” She grinned.
“Well, that makes one of us. The thing is, it could be dangerous. What if I blow someone off who really has a medical issue because of all the women who are faking it?”
“They shouldn’t have to fake it if you’re doing it right.”
“Ginny—” he warned.
“All right.” She held up her hands in surrender. “This is the thing. It’s your own fault.”
“Mine?” That hit a nerve. “What did I do?”
“How can I put this delicately?” She thought for several moments. “Tough love time. And I do love you. A doctor who isn’t married and doesn’t have a girlfriend is fair game for every marriage-minded woman or matchmaking mother within a five-hundred-mile radius of Blackwater Lake.”
“God help me.” He shook his head. “And there’s no immunization?”
“Nope.”
“So, you’re saying I need a wife?”
“Or steady girlfriend.”
“That’s just wrong,” he said.
“Are you gay?”
“No.”
“Confirmed bachelor?” she persisted.
“Not exactly.”
“Then, what exactly are you?”
“Just a guy who wants this to stop.”
“Then you need to hook up with someone so the women will leave you alone.”
“I haven’t met anyone to go out with.” No one except Cam Halliday and she’d only be around another few months.
