him as a father figure, but he did regard her children as one might grandchildren. He never said as much, but the twinkle in his eyes when he picked one of them up was enough. And it filled her heart with pride and affection.
Mel was at the clinic first thing in the morning, leaning up against the kitchen sink sipping a cup of coffee, when he limped into the room. “Morning,” he growled.
“Morning, sunshine,” she said with a grin. “How’s the arthritis today?”
“Worst day of my goddamn life.” He reached into the cupboard over the sink and grabbed a bottle of anti-inflammatory capsules, shaking a couple out.
“Worse than yesterday, which was the worst day of your goddamn life?” she asked.
He turned to look at her and lifted one white, bushy brow. “Yes,” he said, swallowing the pills without water.
“Hmm, sorry then,” she said. “Must be awful. Say, listen—I’ve worked out a couple of things with Shelby. She’s going to do some babysitting. She’s a godsend, really. Brie’s getting pretty pregnant and though she loves keeping the kids for me on Wednesdays, I think it’s a good idea to spell her, let her contemplate her uterus and her own bundle of joy. Plus, Shelby loves hanging around here. So we’ll let her help out here, watching kids, assisting in exams, learning the workings of a country clinic. She’d get to see a side of medicine that’s not limited to caring for someone who’s terminal. She’s so anxious to pitch in. How’s that sound to you?”
“The babysitting will help you,” he said. “I don’t know if we’ll ever have enough work here to ask her to pitch in.”
“I know. But she has time on her hands. And nursing is different than caregiving. I realize it’s not the experience she’ll get when she’s finally in school, but it’s something. You can always loosen up and tell her stories of country doctoring—she’d love that. And when I have patients, I’ll have her with me. Plus, I enjoy her company. She’s sweet and sharp. I think of her as kind of a protégée. I’ve never had one of those before. I’ve always been one.” She grinned at him.
“Melinda, we’re going to bore her to death,” he said.
“You can always teach her to play gin. Maybe you can find a girl you can actually beat.”
“When I think about one more woman around here, it gives me heartburn,” he said.
“You shouldn’t be having so much heartburn, especially with your gallbladder gone. Maybe it’s acid reflux. Are you having pain?”
“Ach,” he said. “I’m seventy-two with arthritis. What do you think?”
She shrugged. “I think we should check it out.”
“Bah,” he scoffed. “I’m fine. I’m old, that’s all. I’ve been ridden hard and put up wet.”
She laughed at him. He hadn’t changed much in her two years there. He was using his cane a great deal more these days—the arthritis was wearing him down. He was an old seventy-two—his life had not been an easy one. He’d worked his way through college and medical school with no help from family and spent the next forty-five years caring for the needs of a town single-handedly, with only the most rudimentary equipment, and with no liability insurance. When she had lifted her eyebrows at that, shocked, he merely shrugged and said, “We don’t sue each other here. At least not over medical aid.”
Doc had never married, had no children, and had told Mel there was no extended family. Mel had a great deal of affection for him, even if he did ruffle her feathers from time to time. He had, indeed, been ridden hard.
“If it’s acid reflux, they have some really good stuff for that now,” she said.
“I know this, Melinda. I’m a doctor.”
“And not just any doctor,” she said with a smile. “The biggest pain-in-the-ass doctor in three counties. Suit yourself.” And then she thought of something. “You know, you could ask Preacher to come up with some meals that don’t stir up that heartburn so much….”
“Why would I do that? He’s a dream in the kitchen.”
“Well, I’ve asked him for some low-fat meals. He was very agreeable, for Preacher. I’ve put on some weight since I got here.”
He lifted his glasses to his forehead and peered at her lower half. “Hmm,” he said.
“You did not just do that!”
“Did I say a word?” he asked, letting his glasses drop into place. She hmmphed and crossed her arms over her chest, glaring at him. “Quit complaining about your weight,” he said, rubbing a hand over his big belly. “At least you have the advantage of giving birth to most of yours.”
She lifted a mean little eyebrow. “You could give up that whiskey you have at the end of every day. That might help with the heartburn.”
“Melinda,” he said gravely, “I’d rather have needles in my eyes.”
Four
It didn’t take Luke long to make enough adjustments so he could sleep in a real bed, in a real house, make use of a real shower. First, the exterminator plugged holes and placed traps. Luke did some serious clearing of trash and cleaning. Then there was a new mattress-and-box-spring set and a working refrigerator, both of which he could transport in his truck and move with a dolly. A couple of weeks made all the difference. But every day was long and dirty. His muscles ached. There was an endless amount of work to be done.
It wasn’t yet five when he was showered and headed for a beer and some of that excellent food at Jack’s. He’d only been there a minute, waiting for someone to come from the back to serve him, when Mel struggled into the bar, baby against her chest, toddler in hand, diaper bag slung over her shoulder. Right inside the door, the toddler took a tumble down onto his knees and sent up a wail. “Oh, punkin,” she said. She spied Luke and said, “Oh, Luke, here.” She thrust the baby into his hands so she could stoop to lift up the boy. “Oh, you’re okay,” she said, brushing off his knees. “Don’t cry now, you didn’t even break the floor. It’s okay.” She was just about to stand, when she heard her husband’s voice.
“Mel,” he said.
She looked up from the floor. Jack was behind the bar. He inclined his head toward Luke with a smile on his face. Luke was holding the baby out in front of him at arm’s length, a startled expression on his face while Emma kicked her little legs and squirmed.
Mel burst out laughing, then covered her mouth. She rose and went to him, taking the baby. “I’m sorry, Luke,” she said. “It’s been such a long time since I’ve been around a man who didn’t know exactly what to do with a baby.”
“Sorry,” he said. “I don’t have much experience with this.”
“It’s okay—my mistake.” She couldn’t help but laugh again. “The first day I met Jack, there was a newborn at the clinic and he scooped her up like an old pro.”
“Because I was an old pro, Mel,” Jack said, coming around to the front of the bar. “Four sisters, eight nieces and one on the way,” he told Luke.
“Prolific
