20. Work

WORK

L ess than an hour later, I'm showered, dressed, and even put on a bit of makeup. When I head into the living room, my uncle isn't there, but there are sounds coming from the kitchen. I head in there, where he's cleaning up his breakfast dishes.

"Can I help?"

"No, that's the last little bit. You ready to head in to work?"

I'm nervous and excited at the same time. He says work, which makes me think this isn't a casual visit.

"How many patients do you have scheduled?"

"Just a few. I've blocked off my mornings for the foreseeable future. Mornings are the worst for me."

I can understand that.

"I'd love to help out. No better way than to jump in and get my feet wet."

"That would be very helpful. And I agree. We still have some time before the first appointment. I thought I'd show you some of the not-so-fun aspects of the practice."

It's another reminder I'm in over my head. In Redlands, all I did was show up and see patients. I didn't have to worry about running a business. I was an employee.

Not a business owner.

"That's what I'm most worried about."

"What's that, hun?"

"The business side of things. Do you think I should take some classes?"

"You don't need to do that. I've got a business manager. Sara takes care of most things. She handles the books, does most of the coding, and deals with all the insurance claims. The office practically runs itself, but there are a few things I need to show you. And of course, we'll want to introduce you to the specialists you'll be referring patients to."

"Okay."

"Everyone knows you're coming. I've been talking you up ever since you agreed, but we'll want to make introductions before …" His voice trails off, and just like him, I don't want to hear the end of that particular sentence.

With that heaviness weighing me down, I force a smile to my face. "I'm eager to get started."

Which is the truth.

It's been well over a week since I fled Redlands. I took my time driving up the coast, needing those few days to figure out what the hell I was going to do.

My job is the best on the planet. Helping others to stay healthy makes me feel good. Helping those who are sick manage chronic conditions, or recover from an illness, is the greatest gift I've been given. I consider myself blessed.

That's all to say, I'm excited to get back to work.

There's one major problem.

When Uncle Pete and I go outside, all four tires of the Jeep are flat.

"That's odd." Uncle Pete walks around the car, looking at the tires. He gives them a kick, slowly—agonizingly slow—he bends down to inspect the rear left tire. "I don't see any punctures."

I crouch next to him and examine the tire. Unless it's a massive rip in the rubber, I have no idea what to look for. Uncle Pete does. He checks the inflation valves on all the tires. He stands and glances up and down the street.

"It was probably some kids playing a prank," he says.

"Why do you say that?"

He points to the tires like I know what he means.

"Someone let out the air."

"Why would they do that?"

"Just kids pranking and having fun. We can take my car. I'll text Henry Watkins and see if he can't come by with his compressor and fix that for you."

"That sounds great."

Not wanting to waste any more time, we take his car. Seeing how unsteady he is on his feet, I offer to drive.

It's a little past eleven by the time we make it to his office. This time, the people aren't strangers. I recognize faces from earlier but lost all their names. Fortunately, Uncle Pete reintroduces me.

The office receptionist, Angie, greets me with bright eyes and a warm smile.

"So nice to see you again, Dr. Knight."

"Oh please, call me Abby."

Angie's gaze shifts to my uncle and her brows wing up. He coughs beside me.

"While we like to keep things informal between the staff, at work, we're more professional. It's important for the patients to know you as Dr. Knight, rather than Abby. If the staff calls you by your first name, the patients will internalize that. It's going to be really important to establish your reputation."

"That's Dr. Bateman's way of saying not only are you pretty, but you're young. A lot of our patients are older, and you know how that goes."

"I suppose so. It didn't really occur to me."

"When we head out for a girl's day on the town, first names work fine, but it's easier for me to stick with Dr. Knight here. Don't want to slip."

"And that goes for the rest of the staff." Uncle Pete emphasizes the point, making sure I understand.

"Gotcha."

Uncle Pete guides me to his office in the back of the clinic. It's a corner office with huge windows looking out onto a grassy lawn. Towering oak trees provide shade to clusters of benches that sit beneath them.

Next to his office is Sara's office. Only slightly smaller than his, potted plants crowd the window ledge. More plants take over the tops of her filing cabinets and spill over the side tables, bracketing a well-worn, leather sofa.

Uncle Pete knocks on her door. A few years younger than my uncle, Sara's long, salt and pepper hair hangs freely over her shoulders and down her back in springy curls. She looks up and pushes on the bridge of her glasses.

"Pete!" She stands and moves around her desk. "You made it." Arms outstretched, she folds him into a gentle hug.

I get the gentle part. Uncle Pete's losing weight at an alarming rate. He kisses her cheek then turns to me.

"Meet my niece, Abby Knight."

Sara takes my hand in hers. Rather than shaking, she clasps both hands around mine and holds me with one of the brightest smiles I've ever seen.

"I've heard so much about you. Pete goes on and on. He's very proud of you, and I know you're going to fit in just fine."

It's one of the warmest welcomes I've ever received.

Things are different here.

The people are different.

Warmer.

Happier.

They roll out the welcome mat, not because they have to, but because it's what they do.

Peace Springs is different.

It's home.

"Sara, I thought maybe you could sit with Abby and show her what you do. I need to catch up on my charting. Maybe we can head to Eddie's for lunch?"

"That sounds wonderful." Sara drags a chair around to her desk and pats the seat. "Come here, let me show you everything you need to know."

"I think that's going to take a very long time."

Sara's eyes shimmer as my uncle excuses himself. The moment we're alone, she looks at me. "That man is a saint, but he needs to stop coming to work."

"I'm not sure I can stop him, but maybe the best way to do that is to get me up and running as soon as possible. He said he has patients this afternoon. I was hoping he'd let me see some of them."

"Oh, that's great. Let me suggest it after lunch. You know how men are. Pete is a trooper, but he doesn't know how to let go." She settles down in her plush office chair and pats the seat beside her. "Let's start with our EMR."

For the next hour, Sara shows me everything I need to know about the electronic medical record system Uncle Pete and the rest of the staff use to chart their patient encounters.

Proficient in that aspect of the job, it doesn't take long before I feel comfortable with the EMR they use.

"Best part of it is that it's the same software they use in St. Vincent's in Billings. Which means all the consults, referrals, and inpatient medical stays are available to you."

Sara shows me how to access those records as well. One of the benefits of EMRs is they can be shared with other physicians and medical practices.

"There's a lot more to show you." Sara glances at her watch. "But if we're going to make it back before your first patient, we should get a move on."

"I'll grab my uncle." I replace the chair back against the wall, then head next door.

"Uncle Pete? Are you ready for lunch?"

He sits behind his massive desk and looks up from the computer screen. The blue glow from the monitor makes his skin look even more pale than usual.

"Ah yes." He glances at his screen and exits out of the EMR.

He wobbles a bit when he stands. I hold back rushing to help him, weighing the pros and cons of treating him like an invalid.

Sara joins us, glancing over my shoulder as my uncle slowly crosses the room.

"Sara, did you happen to ask Pamela and Craig to join us?"

"I did not, but let me see if they're finished with their last patients."

While Sara goes to check, I bend my elbow and silently offer it to him for support. Without a word, my uncle takes the assist.

"Pamela and Craig? I don't remember them." My previous visit was short, and I'm horrible with names.

"Pamela Seagars and Craig Moran are your family medicine nurse practitioners. You're really going to enjoy working with them." He leans on me more than I expect, but that's okay.

We meet up with Sara and two others in the front office. Sara makes the introductions while I keep my uncle steady on his feet. A man with sandy blond hair, freckles, and baby blue eyes, extends his hand in greeting.

"Welcome to Peace Springs. I've been looking forward to meeting you. If you need anything, don't hesitate to call." Craig isn't much older than me. His grip is firm and welcoming.

I'm going to enjoy working with him.

Pamela greets me next. With short brown hair cut into a bob, her smile comes easily. It settles in the gentle laugh lines crinkling her eyes.

"How about Abby and Pete ride with me," Sara says, "and the rest of you go together?"

We split up into our respective cars and head off to Eddie's Soda Shoppe. It's just like I remember it with its red and white checkerboard floor. Metal stools set around the counter with bright red seats.

We find a set of tables, rearranging them to accommodate our group. And just like many summers long ago, I order a vanilla milkshake to dip my fries in.

Everyone but Uncle Pete gives me a strange look. He smiles, grabs a fry, and dips it in the chilly milkshake. It's the best way to eat French fries, something he taught me when I turned five.

Lunch is great.

In addition to my fries, I gulp down a juicy cheeseburger and listen to all the advice they give about moving to Peace Springs. It's a close-knit group, and while we talk about everything and anything, there's one topic that doesn't come up. No one speaks about what happens after my uncle is gone.

But then, they've had longer to deal with that news and process it.

We finish up lunch and, as we head outside, a large man blocks the doorway. My heart leaps to my throat when I realize it's Drake. He turns sideways, letting the others pass.

Towering over Craig, Drake tips his hat as he says hello. Craig clasps Drake's hand and they exchange a few words. They're obviously friends.

Pamela laughs at something Drake whispers in her ear. Angie is all atwitter, laughing and blushing as she, unashamedly, grips his bicep. Sara slaps Drake on the chest, laughing at whatever it is he says. Which leaves me and Uncle Pete as the last to exit Eddie's Soda Shoppe.

The moment Drake's gaze turns to me, my stomach flutters, and my pulse kicks into high gear. My entire body trembles with the crazy power this man holds over me. Drake closes the distance, eyes soft with a smile on his face.

"It's nice to see you up and about, Dr. Bateman."

"It's good to be seen."

My uncle extends a hand, which Drake takes with great care. He doesn't shake it the way he did with Craig. Drake is gentle, reverent, and exceedingly careful not to hurt my uncle.

"It's nice to see you again, Abby."

Words fail me. My cheeks feel nuclear hot, which means I must be blushing ten ways to Sunday.

"I hear you saved my girl." Uncle Pete speaks when it's obvious I've forgotten how to form words.

"I agree with only half of that statement."

"How so?" My uncle's reply comes out a challenge, but then his eyes widen. He wings up an inquisitive brow, looking between me and Drake. A smile brightens his eyes.

"All I did was get rid of some vermin. As for your niece, she's my girl ." Drake moves around my uncle to tug me tight to his side. It's a chaste hug but laced with the ferocity of Drake's desire.

Not only have I lost the ability to speak, but swallowing appears to be beyond my abilities at the moment. My mouth feels incredibly dry as I work to swallow the lump in my throat and calm down some of the nervous energy swirling in my body.

"It's a relief to know she's in good hands." My uncle's comment takes me by surprise.

It does feel as if I'm being handed off.

The men talk about me as if I'm not there. Normally, that would piss me off, but I have a sense there's more going on in the words they say.

"I should thank you for bringing her to me."

"I suppose life just kind of works out like that." My uncle releases the death grip he has on my arm and shambles out of the restaurant. Sara rushes over to him, proffering his arm to steady his gait.

I look between my uncle and Drake, then crane my neck until I capture Drake's smoldering gaze.

"What was all of that?"

"Nothing." His smoldering gaze does indecent things to my insides.

I'm lava hot. Molten desire swims in my veins. Drake is simply that overwhelming, but what was all that subtext between him and my uncle?

"Like hell that was nothing." I prop my fists on my hips.

"What?" He blinks like an innocent baby, only Drake's no innocent.

"The whole my girl and she's in good hands? " On an impish impulse, I reach out and pinch his nipple.

I've never seen a man lift on tiptoe like that. Drake practically levitates.

His large hand clamps down on mine. Pressure applied to my wrist makes my fingers let go.

"Fair's fair." I grin up at him, pleased with myself.

"Don't think I won't make you pay for that. As for your uncle, don't worry about him. I may, or may not, have asked for his permission to take you out."

"You did, what?"

"You heard me."

When did he do that? Because a second ago, Uncle Pete said he heard Drake saved me. Which makes it seem like this is the first time they've talked about me, but Drake says otherwise. I'm very confused.

"What I heard is that you asked his permission."

"You're in Peace Springs, city girl. We do things a bit differently around here. I wanted your uncle's blessing before I moved forward, and he gave it."

"He did?"

"That and more."

"Do I even want to ask what that means?" My attention shifts outside to my uncle while I figure out what the two of them are up to.

Sara and Uncle Pete stoop over, looking at her car. Sara drags her finger across the front passenger side door all the way to the back of the car.

"Probably not." Drake's grin is positively sinful. If his smirk wasn't so damn sexy, I'd smack it off his face. As it is, I melt for him.

So damn cheesy, but true.

I melt for him.

"What the hell does that mean?" I know I shouldn't ask, but I can't help but dig that hole.

"Only that Doc Bateman is a very intuitive man."

"That literally means nothing."

Drake's insufferable.

Completely insufferable.

"Remember that book I was talking about?"

"You mean the one about me being an open book to you?"

"More like us being an open book to each other. That's buried deep in chapter twelve. You're going to have to stick around to turn all those pages." He points toward my uncle who slowly lowers into Sara's car. "Give me a sec."

Drake kisses my brow, then jogs out to Sara's car. They put their heads together and glance up and down the street. Drake bends over, also looking at the paint.

I join them.

"Hey, what's up?" My cheery voice doesn't match the frown on Sara's face.

"Some punk kid keyed my car." She points to a long scratch in the paint. "I'm so pissed."

In broad daylight?

Drake's brows push together as he scans the street. I thought small towns were supposed to be safe, but it looks like that may no longer be true.

"How often does something like this happen around here?"

I liked living in Redlands. It's a great location, a couple of hours from the beach as well as the mountains, but I never really felt safe when I was alone.

At night, I thought long and hard about going anywhere alone. The parking lots needed to be well lit, and there had to be a lot of people around. To see vandalism like this in Peace Springs is worrisome.

"Don't worry, Sara." Drake stands. "I'll call Henry and we'll get it fixed."

"Thank you." When Sara rests her hand on Drake's arm, the urge to knock her hand off his arm overwhelms me. Which is weird. I'm not the jealous type, but Drake's mine.

Sara moves around to the driver's side, leaving Drake and me staring at each other.

"I really wish I'd known you were coming here. I would've joined you." Drake takes my hand in his, threading his fingers with mine.

"That would've been nice, but it was a spontaneous thing."

"I had some errands to run in town, but I need to head back out." Drake grips the back of his neck. His gaze heats and jacks up my pulse. "Any chance you can join me tonight?"

"I'd love to, but I don't know where you live." Why did I say it like that? All hesitant and unsure?

"It's not hard to find me, city girl." His low chuckle makes my insides flutter.

It's because he makes me nervous. Things between us are moving fast. Maybe I should pump on the brakes and take a breather?

It makes sense, but is that what I want? His warm, masculine scent floods my entire being, warming me up from the inside out. It's a message telling me to grab hold and hang on. Doesn't do anything to settle my nerves.

I want another night like last night. A movie date and what followed in the back of his truck. But I don't want all of our time together to be about sex. There's so much I want to know about him, like how he got that scar.

"Then it's a date." Drake leans down and presses his lips lightly to my cheek. "I look forward to seeing you later tonight."

With those words, Drake releases me. I slide into Sara's car and we head back to the clinic. Uncle Pete appears more tired than I anticipated, which works to my advantage.

I take over all of his appointments for the day, meeting the people who will become my future patients.

It's good to be practicing medicine again.

The afternoon is long, but I'm in heaven. When Uncle Pete and I leave the clinic, I walk on cloud nine. All my fears about stepping into the role of town doc dissipate. My confidence returns, surging within me. I won't have the years I wanted, working beside my uncle, but my practice is good.

Solid.

I can do this.

I help Uncle Pete out to his car, tired, but jazzed by a wonderful first day. When we get to his car, I can't believe my eyes.

All four tires are slashed.