Her Kind Of Doctor. Stella Bagwell

What are you going to do with yourself?”

      “Just what I want to,” she joked, then added in a more serious tone, “I honestly don’t know yet. Hoe the garden and wash curtains. Maybe even make you some pies.”

      Gideon pushed back the bill of his cap and scratched the top of his head. “Guess things are going to be different around here with you not working in the ER. Maybe your transfer was all for the better.”

      It would be for the better, Paige thought, if she liked the slower pace and could get used to not having Dr. Sherman standing over her shoulder, barking out orders. Darn it! Why did his memory have to keep butting in? For days now she’d tried to forget the awful things she’d said to him. True, he’d deserved every word and more. But it wasn’t in Paige’s nature to be nasty to anyone. Even someone who’d treated her unfairly.

      “I hope so,” she told him, then directed their conversation away from her job. “So explain this to me, Grandfather—how do you know Hatti Krenshaw isn’t feeling well? Have you been calling her?”

      “Now why would that idea surprise you?” he asked with a grin. “Your old grandfather knows how to talk to a woman.”

      Paige placed the basket of eggs on the cabinet and began to gather fixings for a fresh pot of coffee. “I didn’t know you were that acquainted with the woman. The only time we see her is at church. Have you been making trips over to her house?”

      His wry chuckle had Paige arching a brow at him.

      “You don’t know what goes on around here all the time,” he said, a sly sparkle in his blue eyes. “I still drive, you know.”

      So her seventy-five-year-old grandfather had more romance going on than Paige did. That pretty much summed up her love life, or lack of one, she thought glumly.

      “If that’s the way things are with you and Hatti, then I’d like to know why you call her ‘old lady.’ Hatti’s probably five years younger than you.”

      He sidled up to the cabinet counter and watched as Paige poured water into the coffeemaker. “I call her old because she acts old. Ever since her husband died she’s sat down and gave up on life. I’ve told her she’s wasting herself. But she doesn’t listen. None of you women do.”

      Paige’s grunt was full of humor. “What do you think Hatti needs to do? Kick up her heels and go dancing?”

      “It sure as heck would be a start. Get her legs limbered up and her heart pumping. Use it or lose it. That’s what I tell her. Any way you look at it, life is short. Nobody should sit around frittering away precious time.”

      Paige could hardly be accused of sitting around. In fact, she rarely took any leisure time for herself. But ever since she’d held baby Daisy, she’d been thinking about time and her future and whether she was going to end up childless and alone.

      Paige pulled two clean cups from a wire dish drainer sitting next to the sink. “You mean, like me?”

      “Didn’t say that at all,” Gideon replied. “You ought to know whether you’re making good use of your time.”

      “Right now I’m going to use mine to sit on the front porch and drink a cup of coffee,” Paige told him. “Want to join me?”

      “No thanks, honey. Now that my tractor tire is fixed I’m going out to the east pasture and lay down some fertilizer. If we’re lucky we’ll get a second cutting on the alfalfa mix.”

      Compared to some of the neighboring farms and ranches, Gideon’s hay production was small. But growing the crops was more than enough to keep him busy and make a profit to boot. One thing was for certain—her grandfather would never be idle. A few of her fellow nurses often advised her to discourage Gideon from farming. They all insisted the job was too strenuous for a man of his age. And how would Paige feel, they often asked, if he had a heart attack and died while out on his tractor?

      Paige always answered the question honestly. If dying on his tractor was the way it was meant for her grandfather to leave the world, she’d be happy. At least he’d go while doing what he loved. And she wouldn’t have to see him lying in a care facility, withering away a little each day, until he was just a shell of himself.

      Just like Gideon doesn’t want to see you withering away without a husband or children.

      The tiny voice popped into her head before she had a chance to push it away, causing Paige to frown as she filled a mug with coffee. It had been years since she’d put David Raines and their ill-fated marriage in her rearview mirror. So why was she suddenly thinking about a man to love and babies to bear? It was bad enough to have Dr. Luke Sherman constantly eating on her mind.

      Leaning over, she pecked a kiss on Gideon’s cheek. “Be safe out there.”

      Grinning, he dismissed her words with a wave of his hand and headed out the door. “I’m always safe.”

      * * *

      Early Monday morning, shortly after Luke finished his shift and handed the reins over to Dr. Bradley, he rode the elevator up to the sixth floor. Since it was only a few minutes past seven, he didn’t expect Chet Anderson, Tahoe General’s nursing director, to be in his office yet, but Luke was prepared to wait for as long as necessary.

      However, when he reached Chet’s office, he found the door ajar and the other man already busy at his desk. Just as Luke started to knock on the door facing, Chet glanced up.

      “Hey, Luke. Come in,” he invited. “Have a seat.”

      Luke stepped into the room. “Sorry to interrupt, Chet. Do you have time to speak with me for a minute?”

      The dark-haired man, near Luke’s age, gestured to the plush chair sitting in front of his desk.

      “I always have time for you.” He pulled off a pair of black framed glasses and tossed them onto a nearby mouse pad. “You must have just finished your shift. Would you like coffee?”

      Luke shook his head as he made himself comfortable in the black leather chair. “No thanks. I’ll have some later with breakfast.”

      “So is this a hospital call?” Chet asked. “Or did you drop by my office just to say hello?”

      Luke had never been an outgoing, social person. It wasn’t that he disliked people. It was simply easier not to develop close friendships. Especially when he knew how abruptly those could end. But Chet Anderson was one of the few people at Tahoe General that he considered more than a colleague. In spite of the fact that they often sparred over hospital policies, Chet remained his friend.

      Luke crossed his ankles and tried to relax. “Sorry. I should’ve been by before now to see how you’ve been doing. But things get hectic. You know how it is.”

      Smiling vaguely, Chet picked up a pen and absently turned it end over end. “I know exactly. I got a call from my parents last night. They’re wondering if they still have a son.”

      A cold fist suddenly grabbed onto something in the middle of Luke’s chest and squeezed tight. “You should make time for them, Chet. You might not have a chance later.”

      The nursing director leveled a rueful look at him. “Sorry, Luke. I shouldn’t have mentioned my parents. Not when—”

      “Mine are gone?” he said, finishing the other man’s sentence. “Don’t be silly, Chet. It’s not your fault that my parents died together in a car crash.”

      “No. But you don’t need a friend to remind you of the fact.”

      Shrugging a shoulder, Luke glanced toward an arched window. Beyond the glass he could see the morning sun shedding a golden light across part of the city and the mountains to the far west. Strange how he’d been born and raised in the east, but as soon as he’d settled here in Nevada he’d felt as though this was where he was supposed to be. Perhaps that was because there was nothing back in West Virginia for him. No parents. No wife. Even his sister had