A Family at Last

With her efficient help, he’d thinned out the crammed waiting room by lunchtime. The receptionist, Estelle’s daughter Patsy, had persuaded others to return that afternoon or the following day.

Just as Chris was finally finishing, Jenni had dropped this bombshell. He’d have to serve on call a couple of extra nights per week, treat additional young patients who might otherwise have continued to see the family practitioner, and trespass further onto Karen’s territory.

“I’m happy to help,” Chris told Jenni. “I feel a bit intimidated, though.”

“Trial by fire,” she sympathized. “It seems we all go through it in Downhome, one way or another. When I first arrived, I tangled with Ethan about a patient of mine. In fact, at one point he threatened to arrest me.”

“He can’t have been serious!” Especially since the police chief had fallen in love with her.

“Dead serious,” she assured him. “But we worked it out. As for Will, he turned the whole town upside down when he got Leah Morris pregnant. She’s due next month, by the way.”

“I saw them at church. She looks radiant.” He remembered Leah from high school as a rather shy girl. She’d blossomed, no doubt thanks in part to her recent marriage to Will. “I have to admit that consulting at the nursing home could be a challenge. I don’t have a lot of expertise at geriatrics.”

“You can always consult with my backup in Mill Valley, Dr. Connor Hardison,” Jenni replied. “The most important thing is to catch problems in the early stages. Prevention is important with old folks because of their lowered resistance.”

“As with babies,” he said. “But at least babies don’t tell me I’m too young to be a doctor.” He’d received that teasing comment a couple of times on Saturday. “I enjoyed my geriatrics rotation during my internship, so I won’t be completely at a loss.”

He just hoped his presence wouldn’t exacerbate matters with Karen. Despite their earlier camaraderie, she’d given him the cold shoulder in church yesterday. Chris supposed she didn’t want the whole town discussing how chummy the two of them had become.

He still hadn’t run into Barry. According to his grandmother, the newspaper editor never set foot in church except for weddings and funerals. During the trial, even before a verdict came in, the then-minister had attacked the two young men from the pulpit with such vehemence that both the Lowells and the McRays had walked out.

From the clinic hallway, Chris heard cheery greetings underscored by a masculine voice. Judging by the way Jenni brightened, it was no surprise when Ethan Forrest entered the lunchroom. Although he usually wore a business suit, his dark blue uniform indicated he must have gone out on patrol this morning.

A hearty, gregarious man, he greeted Chris with a handshake and words of welcome. Since they’d met several times before, it felt almost like a reunion.

“Eating?” he asked his wife as he slipped an arm around her. “I thought we were having lunch.”

“Not until one o’clock.” She broke off to plant a kiss on his mouth. “Mmm. I don’t mind your being early, though.”

Wordlessly, he pointed to the wall clock, which indicated 12:55. Jenni regarded it in astonishment. “Oh, my gosh!” She checked her watch. “Must be a dead battery. It stopped an hour and a half ago.”

“How did you keep track of your appointments?”

“I don’t have to.” She beamed at her husband. “Yvonne does it for me.” Yvonne was her nurse, an efficient young woman with platinum hair. “I’ve got to finish some notes before we eat.”

“No problem. I’ll wait here.” Ethan’s fond gaze followed his wife out of the room. To Chris he said, “I pegged her as a blond bimbo the first time we met. Good thing Karen and Olivia Rockwell outvoted me.”

“I’m glad to hear I’m not the only doctor who wasn’t a unanimous choice.” From the refrigerator, Chris fetched a sandwich he’d bought at the diner that morning. “Sorry to eat in front of you, but I’m pressed for time.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Ethan took a chair facing him across one of the tables. “Actually, I wanted to alert you in case you have to treat my son, Nick, while we’re gone. He’s diabetic. My mother’s taking care of him and she’s familiar with his needs, but with a six-year-old, you never can tell what might happen.”

“I recall your mentioning him during the interview.” The boy had an insulin pump, which made shots unnecessary. However, it was important to pay attention to his blood-sugar levels. The automatic dose could cause problems if the boy neglected to eat regularly. “Can I see him in the clinic before you go? It might be a wise precaution.”

“You bet,” Ethan responded. “He’ll still visit his medical team in Nashville, but I’m delighted to have a pediatrician nearby. By the way, if there’s anything I can do to help you settle in, please ask.”

“Actually, there might be.” This seemed the perfect opening for a touchy subject. “I’m concerned about a rumor Barry Lowell may be spreading.”

“You mean his crackpot theory that you sneaked back and committed murder?” Ethan dismissed it with a snort. “He filled me in. Don’t worry. He has no evidence, and there’s zero danger of my reopening a fifteen-year-old case based on speculation.”

“Other folks might not be so objective.” Chris downed a bite of sandwich before adding, “I’d hate for it to harm the clinic.”

“I doubt that’ll happen,” Ethan said. “He mentioned this idea to me privately. I don’t think he’s broadcasting it.”

Chris wondered what sort of person Barry had become, other than attempting to sic the police on an old friend simply for testifying to the truth. Prison must have been a painful experience. He hoped it hadn’t warped the man entirely.

“How do you get along with him?” he asked Ethan. “I mean, he does edit the paper, so you must butt heads occasionally.”

The chief grinned. “He tries his best to drum up controversial stories about the police, and I withhold my press releases until five minutes before his deadline. We enjoy driving each other crazy.”

Chris appreciated the man’s sense of humor. “Sounds like you have an interesting relationship.”

“I don’t consider him a danger to the community.” Ethan’s expression sobered. “But if he threatens you, let me know. While I’m gone, Captain Ben Fellows will be in charge.” Ben, who also doubled as part-time pastor, was married to Estelle, the nurse practitioner. In such a small town, everyone seemed to be related to someone.

“I’ll do that.” The mere mention of danger chilled Chris’s mood. “Do you really think Barry will keep pushing this?”

“Frankly, I hope that once he gets over your arrival, he’ll decide to move on with his life,” the chief said.

“Me, too.” But the teenage Barry hadn’t envisioned himself stuck in a small town, editing his parents’ weekly, Chris knew. Perhaps, by trying to clear his own name, moving on with his life was exactly what Barry was trying to do.

A few minutes later, Ethan departed with his wife. As Chris reviewed their discussion, the idea of scouring police reports to confirm his innocence seemed unnecessary.

Maybe he should leave the whole business alone. As Ethan had said, once Barry adjusted to Chris’s presence in the community, he might decide it was time to quit raking over the past.

That would be a blessing for everyone.

BARRY SLAMMED A BOX of advertising flyers onto the front counter of the Gazette. It was Saturday, past the deadline for Tuesday’s paper, but he’d come in to handle some of the other publishing tasks that kept the business profitable. “It’s bad enough he’s wormed his way into the clinic. Does Mom have to take his side, too?”

“She didn’t take his side.” Karen had been fighting this battle with her brother ever since she’d brought Renée home for dinner last night. “She just wants you to be happy.”

“I realize that.” He glanced with embarrassment at the dent he’d put in a corner of the cardboard box. “I hate to see her upset. Chris’s return has made the whole situation worse.”

“I don’t think she’s upset.” Realizing how tense he’d become, Karen dropped the subject and went back to typing the Community Center schedule into the computer. The Gazette had needed a little extra typing, so she’d offered to do it.

Since they shared their family’s two-story house, the siblings frequently came to each other’s aid. Barry, who’d learned carpentry in prison, helped out around the nursing home and Karen assisted the paper not only with typing but also occasional bookkeeping. Plus, as the owner of a one-quarter interest in the business, she had a personal stake.

Their two-person family would feel more complete if their mother would move back in with them, but she preferred the Tulip Tree. Karen could see her point: she enjoyed twenty-four-hour nursing care, as well as a lot of friends, and, of course, her daughter’s proximity.

Usually, Renée avoided the subject of Barry’s quest. But at Friday night’s dinner, she’d spontaneously brought up the subject of Chris McRay.

“I always liked him,” she’d told Barry. “Neither of you boys intended to harm anyone that night, and events must have been confusing. While I agree with you that the whole story has yet to emerge, that doesn’t mean he was lying.”

Barry had had to struggle with himself to avoid an argument, Karen could see. Thank goodness Renée had dropped the subject.

Much as she loved her son, she didn’t fully understand how much he’d suffered. After prison, during his years of wandering, he hadn’t wanted to burden his widowed mother, so Karen had become the person he relied on. During long phone conversations, it was she to whom he’d spilled his despair and who had sometimes spent hours talking him out of the black moods that threatened to overwhelm him.

When Renée’s accident had brought him back to Downhome, Karen had watched him face down the skeptics and struggle to run the Gazette. Several times, when doors had been slammed in his face and subscriptions had been dropped, he’d nearly given up, but she wouldn’t let him. Eventually, the prejudice had eased, and the readers, eager for local news and drawn by his lively reporting, had returned.

But Barry still had his dark moments, his inner demons. Karen could never abandon him, because he needed her.