The Doctor's Devotion Read online

  If Grandpa knew, he’d flip out of the boat and swim laps around the lake with joy as his lone propeller.

  “He’s just hurt right now, Lauren. Mark my words, once you two bleach out your stubborn streaks and let your guards down, you’ll be amazed at just how compatible you are. I love the two of you more than anything, and I want you both to be happy.”

  If that was meant to make her feel better, it didn’t. Because Grandpa was essentially saying Mitch was equal to her in his eyes. Equal care. Equal love. Equal receivers of property.

  She didn’t want to be Mitch’s equal. Not in Grandpa’s eyes.

  “At least consider it.” Lem brought in his pole.

  She reeled in hers, too. “What, Mitch?”

  “All of it.” He peered at the sun. “We’d best get back. He’ll be arriving soon for breakfast and to work on the deck before he has to round at the center.”

  At the dock, Lauren helped Grandpa onto it. “Be careful.” Once he made it safely to land, she secured the boat.

  “You be careful too, carrottop. Flooded rivers have flushed out snakes.” Grandpa eyed the ground diligently. “Watch your step.”

  She would. Not just with snakes. She’d watch her steps with Mitch, too. Because if she weren’t careful, one of Cupid’s arrows might get through and make Grandpa’s words come true. Mitch could be charming, for sure.

  She popped open the fish bucket. “Look! Enough for a Friday-night fish fry.” Seeing Grandpa’s grin at their catch made her feel better. She wanted to make him happy. Ease his worry.

  “Grandpa, I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I’ll try.”

  “Try what?” His face beamed as he lifted the tackle box.

  “To work as a nurse. At least while I’m here for the summer.”

  “That’s it?” He frowned.

  She gave him a wry look. “That’s all I can promise for now.” She had responsibilities in Texas, and in fact needed to call her contractors today to check in with them. See how renovations were going. Which reminded her that her life was in Texas.

  Fishing with Grandpa this morning had almost made her forget. If she weren’t careful, Grandpa would talk her into moving back. She couldn’t let her friend down. Lauren had given her word, which was her honor. One of many things Grandpa had taught her. To have integrity, a hard work ethic and, most importantly, to never, ever, go back on one’s word.

  * * *

  “I can’t believe I’m doing this,” Lauren muttered to herself after Mitch came in later from repairing a good portion of Lem’s deck. Mitch tried his level best not to grin while Lauren glared at her nursing certifications printing on Grandpa’s fax machine.

  “Hey, where did the other day’s good mood go?”

  “It flew the coop the second your truck pulled up. You intruded on my morning with Grandpa again.” She grinned.

  Lem poked her shoulder. “Whoa, little miss. Where’d those manners that I taught you go? It just so happens I invited Mitch to breakfast. So if you’re gonna have a hissy, have one at me.”

  She let out a long-suffering breath, yanked Mitch’s stethoscope from his pocket and draped it around her neck.

  Mitch could Yeehaw! the corn out of Lem’s field. He restrained himself lest she become annoyed and change her mind.

  “So you’ll send for your permanent Illinois license?”

  “Temporary. I’ll help out today. That’s it.”

  “And if you enjoy today, you’ll drop by the office to apply for a vacant nurse position?” He treaded carefully.

  She flipped around and issued the same stare Lem did right before he kicked tractor tires. “Don’t push it.”

  His hands flew up like two wise white flags. “Fine. I’ll take what I can get.” Some of his inward smile must’ve escaped.

  She narrowed sharpening eyes at his sudden vigor. “And why do you look suspiciously not dead-dog tired anymore like you were when you dragged in this morning?”

  He shrugged. “Lem’s orange juice kicked in?”

  “Uh-huh.” She inclined her head. “Just how much time did you spend sleeping in your call room last night as opposed to operating on trauma patients? Hmm?”

  He grinned and politely evaded her question. “Thanks for helping today, Lauren.” He didn’t call her Nurse Bates because he really was thankful and didn’t want to rile her out of helping today.

  He had Refuge helpers he could call on. But his gut said to keep after Lauren. He just hoped his gut was hearing from God. Otherwise this could get mighty messy.

  Because, for Lauren’s disillusionment with nursing and her laying down her calling and walking away, it was life or death. This was it.

  Mitch knew it. And so did Lem, who was not shy about saying how he felt. And he felt Lauren was still meant to be a nurse. One more reason for Mitch to keep chipping away at her about it.

  “Grandpa, I’m going with Mitch to help at the trauma center,” Lauren said when Lem stepped outside with a drink tray.

  “Oh! That news is sweeter than this sun tea!”

  Mitch didn’t know if Lem was happier about Lauren going with him and the two being together, or Lauren utilizing her nursing skills again. Maybe both, if Lem’s hefty grin as he handed them two glasses of tea before they left was any indication.

  “Kate has extra scrubs in her locker,” Mitch reminded her when they arrived at the center after a half hour of awkward conversation in the truck. Mitch attributed it to a combination of his in-your-face attraction and her nervousness at helping today.

  Mitch took every opportunity to reassure her and answer any technical or logistical questions she had.

  “I promise, I’ll be right there with you,” Mitch said.

  “That’s what I’m afraid of,” she said, then laughed.

  He didn’t know what to make of that.

  When Lauren returned, she wore a new pair of scrubs and a scowl. “Your circulating nurse decided to leave me a gift.” She plucked the hem of a uniform top he’d never seen on Kate.

  Understanding dawned. “Kate bought that for you?”

  “Yep. Left it with a key to what she assigned as my new locker and a very interesting note.”

  One that obviously left Lauren perturbed yet contemplative.

  “I’m dying to know what the note said.”

  She pointed to a corridor no one liked walking. “Morgue’s that way.”

  In other words, she wasn’t giving up the info.

  And after withholding vital information from Kate, he highly doubted she’d miss this opportunity to torture him with the aggravation of dearly wanting to know what was said yet not having the satisfaction of finding out.

  Yet. He would find out.

  Ian approached. The look on his face meant Mitch wasn’t going to like this. “We have a motorcycle crash victim on the way. You okay handling it?”

  Mitch felt the familiar suffocating sensation that came over him every time an injured biker was mentioned. “I’m good.”

  Ian nodded. Lauren peeked up but kept counting instruments. She looked scared but willing. He realized just how confident he was in her nursing skills. Did she?

  It suddenly hit Mitch how brave Lauren was. Every time she helped at the center, she faced her fears. He drew strength from knowing her as the pre-op crew rapidly wheeled the patient in. Mitch pushed the past aside and poured every bit of grit and skill into giving the young man the future his dad never had.

  Not only had the accident been life-or-limb damaging, the surgery was going to be dangerous. Did Lauren know how much so?

  Her hands weren’t quaking, and she wasn’t nearly as ashen as he imagined he’d been when the word motorcycle had come out of Ian’s mouth. So she’d be fine. Plus Kate was here, and another crew slept in the call room s
hould complications arise.

  Thankfully, they didn’t. Mitch helped the orthopedic doctor close incisions they’d made to repair multiple fractures.

  “I’m confident he’ll make a full recovery,” Mitch said.

  “Indeed. Thankfully he had his helmet on,” the orthopedic guy replied while finishing, before meeting Mitch’s gaze with professional respect. “Fortunate for him this center was right here. Otherwise…” He trailed off when Ian shook his head in a withering motion. Mitch and Ian were close—like brothers. They had each other’s backs, both here and on the battlefield.

  Mitch nodded his thanks to Ian. The third doctor looked from one man to the other.

  Kate cleared her throat. “Mitch is the last person who needs to hear how minutes matter. His dad was in a motorcycle crash and made it to Refuge Hospital mere minutes too late.”

  “My apologies.” The doctor’s tone carried respect anew.

  Mitch nodded his acknowledgment. Gratitude overwhelmed him.

  Lord, thank You for leading us here. Bring capable help and funding so we can expand to meet the full needs of this community. Mitch finished the prayer as the last suture went in.

  The O.R. door swung open. “Don’t go anywhere. We’ve got another bone trauma en route,” the director said.

  The crew scrubbed out, then back in, and regowned. Lauren didn’t seem fazed, though this surgery took longer than the last. Afterward Mitch faced Lauren. “Meet me in the doctors’ lounge when you’re done?”

  She nodded and continued to carry out her tasks with Kate, who smiled like an elated little sister at the pair.

  Mitch flashed Kate a visual warning. Yet he couldn’t deny that the blush on Lauren’s cheeks above her mask drained the strain and fatigue out of his tired muscles and feet.

  “Orthopedic surgeries are slower than molasses,” Lauren said once in the lounge after surgery. She stretched her back.

  Mitch resisted the urge to rub the knots out of her neck. He was physically and mentally drained, and this room was quite secluded and dimly lit. Recipe for disaster. “Ready to go?”

  She nodded and gave him back his stethoscope. Which made him frown. And made her laugh. “You need it more than I do.”

  At least she didn’t say she’d never need it again.

  Progress, right?

  “Thanks for giving me rides home, Mitch,” Lauren said as he helped her into the truck.

  Mitch smiled because she’d said home. Every time before, she’d referred to it as Lem’s. Maybe her heart’s roots were deepening for Southern Illinois? That would be fine by him. Maybe by her, too, because the closer they got to Mitch dropping her off, the more she fidgeted and seemed to want to say something.

  Likewise, Mitch wished to draw out their time together.

  “Do you want to—?”

  “How about we—?”

  They both laughed at their simultaneous questions. Lauren tucked her hair behind her ear. “Want to go for coffee and feed the geese at Refuge Park?”

  Mitch smiled and headed to the bread store. “That sounds fun.” Right now—the way she and her sparkly eyes and gorgeous grin made him feel—she’d make a trip to the dentist for a root canal fun.

  They got coffee to go from the bread store, then parked near a cluster of geese. When Mitch got out of the truck with the bread bag, he was mobbed by winged critters.

  “Haven’t you fed them before?” Lauren asked, giggling, after rescuing him and the empty bag.

  He led her to a picnic table, laughing, despite having been pecked. “No. Here’s your coffee.”

  She took a sip and grimaced. “Gross. How can you drink this stuff? It’s pure sludge.”

  “I hadn’t noticed.” He peered into his half-empty cup, realizing she was right. He looked back up at her and scooted closer than a friend would. “All I noticed is how lucky I am to be in the company of someone so beautiful and brave.”

  “You mean, the geese?” Her cheeks tinged as she smiled and lowered her gaze.

  Mitch raised her face because he needed to look into her eyes to say this. “No. I mean the fearless knockout who rescued me from them.”

  Chapter Eleven

  “What gives?” Lem handed Lauren a cup of caramel mocha coffee one morning the next week after they came home from another early morning fishing excursion. “You’re all dolled up.”

  “Oh, nothin’.” She cleared her throat and eyed the window.

  “You wanted to don your war paint before Mitch got here.”

  Lauren glared at her grandfather, but kept silent.

  “Don’t worry. His smile will be worth it.” Lem chuckled. “Admit it. You think he’s cute.”

  Lauren sighed. “I can’t pull any kind of wool over your eyes, can I?”

  Grandpa chuckled. “Not in this lifetime.”

  “Speaking of lifetime, Grandpa, you look healthy enough to hit a hundred.” Please, God, let it be so.

  “I do feel smidgens better now that you’re here.”

  “Good.” What could she say? She wasn’t here to stay. Would he worsen after she left? Thankfully Mitch’s truck rumbled up, sparing her from guilt.

  Mitch stood at the door with a riveted expression. “Wow.”

  Lauren fumbled verbally, but no words would emerge.

  Mitch stepped in, canvassing her. “Glossy hair. Movie-star makeup. Outfit too dressy for a cornfield. What’s the occasion?”

  Grandpa grinned. “Just you, Mitch. Just you.”

  Heat blasted Lauren’s face. “Grandpa!” Was nothing sacred in this house? She shook her head at him.

  Lem’s eyes twinkled as he headed to man the stove.

  Mitch watched the two of them and didn’t crack a smile.

  She could just die of embarrassment. Thankfully Mitch spared her by picking up a drill and going to work on the deck. As soon as he was out of sight, Lauren trudged toward Grandpa. “I wish you’d cut the matchmaking already.”

  Grandpa chuckled over ham he seared in a pan for tonight’s beans. “Looks like he could use a hand. It’s supposed to rain today, so I’d appreciate it if you’d go help him.”

  “I’d appreciate it if you’d let me really help him by handing me a tranquilizer dart.”

  Lem poked a spatula at her nose. “That, young lady, was uncalled for. Now git yourself out there and lend him a hand.”

  Whoa. Grandpa never used git or any other Southern slang words unless he was perturbed.

  Well, he could join the club. Lauren’s teeth gritted until she saw through the window how much work the deck still needed. She eyed Grandpa. He peered out his side of the kitchen window at clouds, then at Mitch with a worrisome gnaw to his jaw.

  “Quit eatin’ your tongue, Grandpa. I’m going.” She grabbed her work gloves and headed out, knowing that this time, Grandpa was merely looking out for Mitch and not trying to be a matchmaker.

  “Hey,” she greeted Mitch on approach. “How can I help?”

  He peered up, then to his work area. “Let’s cut these before the weather unleashes on us. I want to get this electrical stuff inside before it starts.” He nodded at vicious-looking saws.

  Mitch and Lauren worked together until Lem peeked his head out the deck door a while later. “Lunch is ready. Come on in.”

  Mitch eyed the darkening clouds, then Lauren, then the deck. She read his concern. “I’m not hungry yet,” she fibbed. “You?”

  “I can wait, too.” He pulled his cheek, the way Grandpa tended to. “So which one of us is gonna tell Gramps?”

  Lauren laughed. “I’ll do that piece of dirty work.”

  An hour later, and Grandpa’s seventh trip to tell them food was getting cold, Mitch stood. “We can finish this another day. I’ll drag the saws into his garage if you wa
nna bring board remnants and the nailer.”

  They packed up the work area, and Lem stepped out onto the deck. “Wow. You two work fast. You nearly have it done.”

  Mitch nodded to Lauren. “Thanks to her help. She’s a hard worker. Good with power tools, too.” His proud grin sent zip lines through her tummy that left her exhilarated and lighthearted.

  On the way to the table, Mitch slipped her a fistful of flowers in passing. “Peace offering.”

  “Awww. Thanks!” He must’ve had them hidden. Wait… “Did you steal these from Grandpa’s yard?”

  “Yes, ma’am. Learned from the best. Shhh,” he said with whispered breath and a finger to his mouth, which drew her attention there. What was meant as a kidding gesture captivated her.

  And aggravated her to no end.

  “Thanks. I think.” She groaned inwardly. “I can’t believe I’ve influenced you to lift bounty from his prized flower beds.”

  Mitch smiled. “I confess it’s not the first time I have. He has plenty and gets a kick out of me snitching them.”

  “I hear you’re still adept at getting corn by a five-finger-discount, as well,” she teased in reference to Grandpa’s Mitch stories this week. He’d recited them nightly, with great animation, after Mitch went home or to the trauma center.

  The departure always plagued Lauren with guilt. But he needed to secure permanent staff and get used to the idea that her help was only temporary.

  Lauren enjoyed Grandpa’s renditions of good times with Mitch. She’d also realized how much Mitch did for Grandpa.

  Mitch flashed a handsome grin her way.

  Her traitorous pulse went aflutter like a rebellious butterfly.

  She lifted the flowers and thought about whopping him with them. Instead, the floral scents of lavender and rose beckoned. She inhaled deeply. Unfortunately she also caught whiffs of his cologne. Hints of sandalwood and the outdoors made her slightly dizzy. “He also said you help plant the corn when you’re not deployed.”

  Mitch handed her a vase. “He told you that?”