Could her resentment be a defense against her growing attraction to Court? He was like a tall, cool drink of water that would soon evaporate, leaving an unquenchable thirst behind. Picking up her pace to power-walk speed, she made her way through the village.
Maggie found Neetie sitting cross-legged on the floor, playing a stick game with a friend.
“Hey, Neetie. How’re you feeling?” He shrugged her hand away when she placed it on his forehead. From appearances, Neetie looked as if he wasn’t ill at all. Maybe Court had been right, and she’d overreacted. She’d never seen him offer anything but his best to the patients he’d care for.
“Good. I hungry.”
“Well, that’s a great sign.” She stood. “Let’s get you something to eat.”
“I want to stay here.” He looked at Zena with questioning eyes. She agreed and Maggie could hardly insist Neetie come with her. He wasn’t hers yet and this was his opportunity to be with his friends, even if she needed a buffer between her and Court.
“Okay, but you have to promise to eat and drink for Zena.”
“I will.”
* * *
It had become dark by the time Court left Neetie. The boy felt better and for that Court was grateful. He hadn’t noticed Maggie slipping out as he’d examined Neetie. Court left Neetie playing happily with a friend, and drove the Jeep around the outskirts of the village, parking it beside his and Maggie’s hut. When he entered their shelter he fully expected Maggie to be in her bedroll but she wasn’t.
A woman’s resentment had never registered with him before but disappointing Maggie made his insides draw up in knots. He wanted to make it right between them, to find that relaxed spot he hadn’t known existed until it was gone. A place where he felt good about himself, something he’d not experienced in a long time. Not since the night he’d left his practice.
Picking up a bedroll, he resisted the urge to share a sleeping bag with Maggie again. He snapped out their sleeping bags, taking special care to place hers on one side of the fire and his on the other. He washed up, using the pail of water and sliver of soap Maggie had left for him. She still didn’t come into the hut.
Where was she?
* * *
Maggie moved around the village and surrounding area comfortably, but he couldn’t forget her warning about wild animals and being out alone. Pulling a clean T-shirt over his head and tugging it into place, he impatiently shoved the blanket door back as a flash of lightning cut across the sky. He headed out into the night.
During a second flash he saw Maggie standing well away from the huts. What was she doing? At a brisk pace he walked toward her, slowing as he came to stand beside her. Another flash showed her silhouetted against the blue-black of the horizon. She stood with her arms wrapped around her waist, her head back as she looked into the sky. He stopped a few paces from her.
“I’m sorry. It’s just I love the kid so much.”
Court stepped closer. “I know. I can see that. Anyone can see that, Maggie.”
“Just the thought that I could lose him…it’s just too much.”
“I know.”
“No, you don’t. You don’t know what it’s like to be this scared.”
He kicked at the ground with his boot. When he didn’t respond, she turned to face him. Even though he couldn’t see her clearly, he sensed her intent look.
“Do you?” The word came out as a plea to know.
Why couldn’t she let it go? If she would, he wouldn’t have to go to that dark, insecure place. But if he did talk about it, left those ugly feelings here in this vast country with Maggie, maybe he could find reconciliation. “I was scared about making the right diagnosis.” Each word he had to force from his mouth. Because I couldn’t risk making the same mistake I’d made before.
“But I’ve seen you make diagnoses in the clinic all day without flinching and now you hesitate? I want to know why.” The tone of her voice was aggressive, demanding an answer.
He shoved his hands into his pockets and turned away from her, looking out into the vast night, hoping it would swallow him. His chest constricted to even think about the past. Another boy’s life, the child of Court’s boyhood friend. The loss of his brother and the gaping hole it had left. Maggie cared about Neetie. What would happen to her if Neetie was ever as ill as Lyland had been? How Jimmy had been when Court had made the wrong decision?
The gentle touch of Maggie’s hand on his forearm brought him out of the black memories.
“The type of patients we were seeing today was straightforward. A boil needs to be lanced and bandaged. A cut needs to be cleaned and covered. Bones break and need to be set. No guesswork there. With Neetie it is more difficult to know. To judge the seriousness.”
She shifted to stand in front of him. “But you were right about Neetie. What happened to make you distrust yourself?”
Did she read minds? How transparent was he? Did she feel the pain of a mistake and recognize it in him?
“Court?”
She moved closer. He felt the brush of her against him. She stood in his personal space both physically and emotionally. The desire to step away flooded him but the slight squeeze of her fingers encouraged him to stay put. What would she think of him if he explained? He knew her well enough now to know she wouldn’t let it go. “One of my patients, Jimmy, the son of my school friends growing up, wasn’t feeling well. I saw him in my office that afternoon.” His words sounded hollow, distant, as if he spoke about someone else. “That night the Armstrong Foundation held its annual fundraising gala. My parents had given me the job of schmoozing a possible major medical benefactor. In the middle of the discussion I received a page telling me Jimmy was in the ER. I didn’t go. Jimmy had had a reaction to the medicine I’d prescribed. He now has brain damage, all because of some insane need of mine to impress my parents.” Each word of the last sentence was like acid dropped from between clenched teeth. He felt as if a boulder lay on his chest and he was struggling to push it off so he could breathe.
In the dark, he couldn’t see if Maggie was judging him, didn’t want to see. He’d already judged himself, and pronounced himself guilty.
“You couldn’t have known.”
He let out a huff of self-disgust. His muscles became taut with tension. “I couldn’t be bothered to even go in to see my own patient.” The words came out whip-sharp. “For heaven’s sake, I’m a doctor and Jimmy is the son of my best friend. Getting big bucks for the foundation and meeting my father’s demands wasn’t worth that boy’s life or his family’s.” She flinched but didn’t move away from him.
“You know that isn’t true.”
“Maybe not, but that’s how I felt, feel.”
He lashed out at himself, not her. When she said nothing he continued, “There was an investigation. I wasn’t found to be negligent but I don’t believe it.”
The reassuring flex of her fingers encouraged him. “Even though I don’t always agree with the foundation’s decisions, I do know its work helps people.” Her voice took on a strong tone. “You’re a good doctor. I’ve watched you work and interact with the villagers, the people at the hospital clinic. Except with… What happened with the boy is why you won’t see the children unless you are forced to, isn’t it?”
“I’m a children’s doctor, afraid of children,” he said in complete disgust.
“No, you’re not. I admit that I didn’t understand it. Didn’t really like you because of it. But you were great with Neetie last night and I have no complaints about your interaction with the child today. You are good with them.”
“Jimmy’s about the same age as Neetie. I had to make myself remember how to interact with a child. Neetie’s such an open kid he let me in, trusted me. When the door opened I became determined never to let it close again. I had a few moments today that were rough but I made it.”
“I think you did an outstanding job. You’re an excellent doctor, the best I’ve seen, actually.”
He grasped her hand on his
arm, as if she were his lifeline to sanity and interlocked her fingers with his. “I appreciate your confidence. I took a leave of absence. I needed time to think. When your letter came across my desk I thought it would give me an opportunity to review the hospital’s work and to stick my toe back into working with patients. I had no idea of how far I would wade in.”
“I bet.”