Mending the Doctor's Heart. Tina Radcliffe

      “Was?”

      “I lost her when I was very young.”

      Ben’s eyes clouded with concern, and he glanced away. “I’m...I’m very sorry.” The subtle antagonism in his voice vanished.

      “Thank you.” Sara paused. “What about your parents?”

      “My father is a general practitioner, and my mother is a nurse. They’ve been big on rural medicine all my life. Every vacation from school was a mini-mission trip.”

      “You were fortunate.”

      “Probably, but I didn’t think so at the time,” Ben said.

      “I’ve spent most of my life in Paradise and the rest wishing I was back here.” She gave a small laugh. “I guess you just don’t appreciate some things until they’re gone.”

      Her words hung between them for a moment before Ben answered.

      “I guess you’re right.”

      She took a long sip of her water and set her glass down. Ben’s direct gaze met hers.

      “May I ask about Dr. Rhoades’s medical condition?”

      “Incomplete paraplegia.” Her finger traced the moisture on the glass over and over as she spoke. “It was a car accident, many years ago. Emergency medical response couldn’t get to the vehicle due to a snowstorm.”

      Ben inhaled sharply.

      “Another reason why the outreach clinic is so important to him.”

      Ben nodded slowly.

      Her cell rang, and she dug in her purse. “It’s my father. Do you mind if I take it?”

      “No. Of course not.”

      “Dad, everything okay?” Sara looked toward Ben and then away. “Yes, I’ve met with Uncle Henry. I’ll be home soon. We can talk then. I have to go now.”

      Shaking her head, she put the phone away.

      “Dr. Rhoades is your uncle.” Ben’s voice was flat and tight, the words punctuated with a nameless accusation.

      Their meals were set in front of them, and Sara waited until the waitress left before responding.

      “He is my uncle. But it’s not what you think—”

      “It’s not?” His brows shot up. “How do you figure?”

      “Ben, Dr. Rhoades is going to hire the right person for the job.”

      He stared through her, his jaw rigid. “You mean Uncle Henry?”

      “There’s no need to be condescending, Dr. Rogers.”

      Ben released a frustrated breath. “Look, maybe you think I’m being harsh, but consider the situation from where I’m sitting. Your father subsidized the project, and your uncle manages the program. Those are the facts, correct?”

      She nodded.

      “What I don’t understand is why your uncle doesn’t just hire you. Why not let me down now instead of eight weeks from now?”

      The thick burger and hot fries in front of her suddenly lost their appeal. Sara sighed and pushed aside the large white platter. “Because last time he hired me, I left him high and dry.”

      The long silence between them stretched, until Ben finally spoke.

      “You quit?”

      “It’s not something I’m proud of, but yes. I was on staff at the hospital, and I broke my contract and resigned.”

      “When was this?”

      “Two years ago.”

      “I guess I don’t understand.”

      “All you need to know is that I’m not the front-runner for this position. You may think I have the home-team advantage, but clearly you are my uncle’s first choice.”

      He raised his palms. “So what’s changed in twenty-four months?”

      Sara swallowed the bitterness rising in her throat. “My father’s heart attack made me realize that as much as he exasperates me, I’m still his daughter. His only child. And I love him. So I’ve got to try to put the past—my mistakes and his—behind me and move on.” She folded her hands tightly in her lap. “That also means I need to find a way to make peace with him.”

      Ben stared at her for moments, his lips a grim line. “Sometimes the answer is to simply give the situation to God. Turn it over to Him and trust that He can find a way.”

      Sara was silent, surprised by his faithful words and by the way his gaze searched hers. She glanced away.

      “That’s a huge step of faith,” she murmured before looking up again. “Do you really think that the Lord can find a way when things are such a mess?”

      “I’m banking on it,” Ben said. He inhaled and then slowly exhaled. “So I guess we’ve both got a lot invested in the next eight weeks.”

      An awkward tension once again settled between them.

      Ben looked from her untouched dinner to his own. “Maybe we could call a time-out,” he finally said. “Because I’m really starving.”

      She shook her head at the plea in his voice, then inched her plate close again, picking up her napkin and silverware. “This doesn’t have to be adversarial, you know.”

      “Perhaps not, but make no mistake. I want that position, Sara.”

      She peeked at him from beneath her lashes.

      Yes, he wanted the position, but there was more going on here. Why was the position so important to him? And what exactly was Ben Rogers running from?

      He had more than his own share of secrets. She recognized a wounded soul in the tall, lean physician. Whether he knew it or not, she suspected he was on his own mission trip right now.

      Eight weeks. Was it enough time to find out what was going on behind those sad eyes? She sure could use an ally if she was going to find the courage to stay. Ben might just be that ally.

      Could it be they needed each other as much as they needed Paradise? That possibility worried her more than anything, especially since every time her gaze met his, she glimpsed something she wasn’t prepared for. A spark of something that terrified her—because there was absolutely no way she was prepared to risk her heart again.

      Chapter Three

      Sara drove her Jeep past the iron gates of the Elliott Ranch. She hit the horn in a double beat and waved at the new supervising foreman, Mitch Logan, who had taken over all the duties of the ranch and then some since her father’s heart attack. Mitch turned from his position on the split-rail corral fence he straddled to raise a gloved hand in greeting.

      Ahead at the sprawling two-story house, her father sat on a green Adirondack chair beneath the sloping eaves of the front porch. So much had changed. Last month the patriarch of Elliott Ranch could only be found on that porch when rain forced him to slow down. Now he perched on the edge of the chair, refusing to lean back and relax. A black Stetson rested on his head and hid his face as he watched the world go by, hating every minute of his forced convalescence.

      Sara tried not to think about the phone call from Uncle Henry that night. Her father’s heart attack was as unexpected as the Colorado storms that whipped through the valley. Before that, Hollis had convinced his daughter as well as the rest of the world that he would live forever.

      Oh, yes, she should have known the hardworking, and equally hardheaded, rancher would eventually wear out the heart the good Lord had given him, but she hadn’t expected it would be this soon.

      Hollis Elliott was stubborn and unyielding, but