Shelby shook her head. “No, that’s my job. She’s scared enough without me sending a man in to discuss this. She lives in the county above us and wanted to go where she wouldn’t be recognized. Someone told her that there was a female doctor here.”
“In this day and age she’s hiding? Afraid to tell her parents? The teenage girls I know are proud to be unwed and pregnant.”
“You have to remember that there’re still strong moral standards in this area. Everyone knows everyone. Has an opinion about everything.”
Taylor was well aware of how those concepts worked.
Shelby continued, “Her parents, she says, aren’t going to be happy or accepting.” She moved past him. “I’d better go give her the news.”
He placed a hand on her shoulder and her gaze met his. “Shelby, I wish I could do more than say I’m sorry.”
She gave him a weak smile. “I am too,” she said, before squaring her shoulders and knocking on the door to the exam room across the hall.
Her heart was too big for her own good. For once, Taylor thought that Uncle Gene sentencing him to the clinic had been a good thing. It had allowed him to be there for Shelby today.
The girl left the clinic thirty minutes later with a gentle pat on the shoulder from Shelby and the reassurance that she’d be there if the girl needed her. Shelby said not a word as she passed him. She entered her office and effectively closed everyone out.
After preparing the clinic for the next day, Taylor knocked lightly on the office door. “You ready to close up?”
“You go on. I’ll see you in the morning.”
She needed space and wouldn’t appreciate him insisting she leave. He really shouldn’t care. All doctors ran into cases that got under their skin. The problem was that Shelby cared too deeply. For the girl. For her all her patients.
Who took care of her?
Hours later, Taylor rolled over in bed and looked at the bedside clock for the umpteenth time. It was well past midnight.
Where was she?
With a sense of relief that amazed him he saw Shelby’s headlights flash across the wall of the apartment as she pulled into the drive.
She worked far too hard, felt too much. The clinic, for all he could see, was her life. She took no down time. In his opinion it wasn’t healthy. She needed to slow down or she’d be the one needing a doctor. He knew of few doctors who worked harder than Shelby.
He didn’t want to care. No matter what happened he refused to get involved but with every day he stayed in Benton it made it more difficult to keep his distance. First it had been Mrs. Ferguson, then Mr. Hardy and now he was stressing about a workaholic tyrant of a doctor who lived in a one-red-light town. Heck, he didn’t really know how to care. He’d certainly not gotten an example of how that worked from his family. Could he have picked a more foreign emotion?
The way Shelby’s big gray eyes looked stormy when she was mad and turned soft and sad when she worried over a patient pulled at him. Even her sharp tongue didn’t squelch his anxiety for the turbocharged woman.
Reassured Shelby was safely home, Taylor rolled over and punched his pillow, knowing he could now find sleep. He’d no idea why it mattered to him what she did. Shelby had been fine before he’d arrived and she’d be fine after he left.
But who would be there for her when she needed a shoulder to lean on next time?
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