he replied. “They don’t need to know anything about my private life to do that.”
Not a pushy man, Dan had said his piece. There was no point in beating the subject like a dead horse. “You know what’s best for you,” he said simply. “So how were things at the hospital last night? After the fancy operating rooms you practiced in in L.A., our little hospital must have been quite a shock to you. You probably felt like you’d stepped back in time.”
Reilly had to grin at that. “Well, maybe just a little, but I didn’t encounter anything I couldn’t handle. By the end of the evening, I felt right at home.”
“Good.” Pleased, Dan sat back as the waitress delivered their food. “I can’t remember the last time I had a night off. It was great, thanks to you.”
“That’s what I’m here for,” Reilly said with a wry shrug. And Dan was no more grateful than he was. After sitting at home and brooding for months in L.A., he hadn’t realized how much he’d missed work. Last night he’d been so busy that he hadn’t had much time to think about Victoria.
His brother had been right—he had needed a change of scene and he hadn’t even realized it. He’d needed to work again, to find himself in medicine, and Liberty Hill, at least so far, seemed like a good place to do that. Dan was an excellent doctor—intelligent, thorough, kind—and Reilly hoped that their temporary three-month partnership worked out for both of them. He liked Dan and felt sure he was someone he could work with.
As for the patients Reilly was confident they would come around. He’d never lived in a small town before, but people were pretty much the same everywhere. All he had to do was give them time. If they were nosy, they’d learn soon enough that he had no intention of discussing his personal life with them. Once they accepted that, they’d all get along fine.
Satisfied that he had everything well in hand, he and Dan finished their lunch, then walked back to the office, which was conveniently located two blocks from the town square in an old craftsman cottage Dan had converted into office space ten years ago. Not surprisingly, the waiting room was full. Dan had warned him that once word got out that he’d joined the practice, they’d be flooded with patients wanting to get a look at him, and he’d been exactly right. Patients had come in and out of the office in a steady stream all morning, and only a handful of them had really been sick enough to require the attention of a doctor. The rest had used everything from a hangnail to a fake cough as an excuse to see Reilly, and they’d made no apologies for it.
Amused, he took the chart from the door of the first examining room and read the name on it. Myrtle Henderson. Stepping inside, he found an older woman pacing the small confines of the examining room impatiently. Tall and spare, with a lively step, she appeared to be in her early seventies and in excellent shape for her age. Reilly didn’t doubt for a second that she, like so many of the others, had come to check him out. According to her chart, she’d come in complaining of dizziness, but the second she heard him step through the door, she whirled to face him without the slightest sign of unsteadiness. If she was dizzy, she hid it well.
“You must be Dr. Jones,” she said with a delighted smile, holding out her hand for a firm shake. “Welcome to our neck of the woods, Doctor. It’s good to have you here.”
Amused, Reilly couldn’t help but like her. She looked as if she could be as tough as nails when the occasion called for it, but there was a twinkle in her direct blue eyes that was hard to resist. “Thank you, ma’am. It’s nice to be here. I understand you’re having a problem with dizziness. Why don’t you sit down and I’ll take your blood pressure?”
Reluctantly she took the chair he motioned to, all the while assuring him that she was sure it was nothing. “I didn’t eat breakfast, and that always makes me a little light-headed. And it was just for a second, anyway. In fact, now that I think about it, I’m sure I just imagined it.”
Biting back a smile, Reilly didn’t doubt that, but he took her blood pressure, anyway. Just as he’d suspected, it checked out fine. Removing his stethoscope from his ears, he sat back and arched a dark brow at her. “Well, it’s not your blood pressure. Have you had this problem before? Maybe I should schedule some tests—”
“Oh, no,” she laughed, dismissing the suggestion with a wave of her hand. “We don’t need to do that. I’m healthy as a horse—always have been. You look like you are, too,” she added, neatly changing the subject. “I bet you spent a lot of time playing golf and tennis at a fancy country club in L.A., didn’t you? You’ve got that healthy, outdoor California look to you.”
“Thank you,” he said dryly, and neatly sidetracked her question by not answering it at all.
Undaunted, Myrtle examined him with bright, curious eyes. “So what brought you to Liberty Hill? I’d think a good-looking young man like yourself would go stir crazy here by the end of the week. It’s pretty quiet. There’s not much nightlife. Though I could introduce you around, if you like. I know a couple of nice girls you might like to meet.”
Reilly cringed at the idea, but all he said was, “I appreciate the offer, Mrs. Henderson—”
“Myrtle,” she corrected him with a broad grin and a motherly pat on the hand. “Everyone calls me Myrtle.”
“But right now I don’t have time for a social life. Maybe some other time.”
She surprised him by accepting that with a rueful shrug. “It never hurts to try. If you change your mind, you let me know. I was born and raised here and know everybody in town.”
Her mission accomplished and curiosity satisfied, she sailed out without mentioning her dizziness at all, and Reilly could only smile and shake his head. Unfortunately, the patients he saw after her weren’t nearly as polite. By the time the office closed early at three so he and Dan could go on rounds at the local nursing home, he’d been grilled about everything from his credit history to the number of children he one day hoped to have. And then, there were the women who’d come on to him. He didn’t even want to think about that.
Dan took one look at him as they headed for the nursing home and arched a brow. “Rough afternoon?”
“No, thanks,” he said dryly. “I’ve already had one. Are the women around here always so aggressive?”
To his credit, Dan didn’t laugh. But his lips twitched with wry humor. “So the feeding frenzy’s starting already, has it? I was afraid of that. I went through the same thing after Peggy died.”
“There were some women in L.A. who made it clear they’d be happy to help me through my grief,” Reilly said with a grimace of distaste, “but they were friends. These women don’t even know me!”
“Unfortunately, they know everything important they think they need to know about you,” the older man said as they walked the three blocks to the nursing home. Normally not a cynical man, he ticked off Reilly’s attributes. “You’re single, young, reasonably attractive. And you’ve got M.D. after your name. Every mama wants her daughter to marry a doctor—you know that. It’s not any different here than in L.A. Except that in a town the size of Liberty Hill, doctors are harder to come by. As long as you’re walking around free, you’ll be considered fair game.”
He spoke nothing less than the truth, and they both knew it. Reilly had married Victoria the summer before he started medical school, so he hadn’t been chased by marriage-minded women looking to land a rich doctor who could support them in the manner to which they wanted to become accustomed. But he’d been to more than his share of weddings
