The Doctor Returns. Stella MacLean

used to tease him about how spoiled he was, how his allowance was too much, how little he had to do at home, while she always had after-school chores. But all the spoiling hadn’t done him any harm, and he appreciated his mother’s help.

      As he stood with his mother, he realized how fortunate he was to be among people he knew and cared about and who cared about him. It was something he’d missed living in Boston, where he had none of his old friends or relatives to complete his life.

      His cell phone rang. Caller ID showed the hospital. That puzzled him, since he wasn’t on call, and the two patients he’d been in to see that morning were stable. “Hello.”

      “Hi, Neill. It’s Bill Hayes, and we have a problem. I need you in here as soon as you can make it. The emergency room is full of people exhibiting symptoms suggesting food poisoning or a serious flu outbreak. We’re not sure which. I’ve called everyone in to help.”

      “I’ll be right there.” He ended the call. “Mom, I’ve got to go. Can Morgan—”

      “Of course.”

      He explained to his daughter and Tara that he had to go the hospital, eliciting long groans from them as they piled out of the car and followed him back into the house. “I’ll call you, Mom, as soon as I can. You may have to go to the house and get Morgan’s school clothes for tomorrow.”

      “Don’t worry. We’ll be fine. Won’t we, girls?” his mother said, smiling wide.

      “I owe you, Mom,” he said, realizing once again how lucky he was.

      “No, you don’t. Now go and do your job. We’ll be here.”

      His mind on what lay ahead, he drove down the driveway, up Orange Street and onto Tidewater Avenue toward the hospital.

      CHAPTER FOUR

      SHERRI HAD SPENT the weekend doing housework, cleaning rooms that were already immaculate, anything to keep from thinking about Neill. When’d she fallen into bed on Sunday night, she’d dreamed of him, each dream ending with her in his arms.

      On Monday morning, she went into her shift at the clinic to discover that the hospital was turning away visitors. All the doctors on staff were working to stop the spread of a flu that had hit the town over the weekend.

      Public service messages on local television and radio encouraged people to seek medical attention if they developed flu symptoms. The inpatient beds of Eagle Mountain Hospital were filled to capacity.

      For the next three weeks while the flu spread through the town, she worked twelve-hour shifts, going home, sleeping a few hours and coming back to work for another twelve hours. Everyone at the hospital was working overtime, and no one complained because of the number of very ill people they had to care for around the clock.

      Given the situation, she could no longer avoid Neill. They worked side by side for long hours during which he proved just how capable a doctor he was. Sharing the same need to do their best in a difficult situation, they’d slipped right back into the easy rapport they’d had all those years before when they’d been in high school. Sherri had never been happier or more content despite her constant state of exhaustion. She’d had to call Portsmouth and delay her arrival at her new job. The hospital simply couldn’t spare her.

      Finally, the situation had returned to normal and she was back to working full-time in the clinic. They’d had a busy day today, but Sherri had found a couple of hours to sit down in her office and start wading through the pile of paperwork she’d left undone. She rubbed her forehead, trying to ease the headache that had plagued her all morning.

      She probably needed something to eat, but she was expected at a meeting to review the results of how the flu situation had been managed by the hospital and its staff. She couldn’t skip it as she was taking the nurse who would replace her when she went to Portsmouth at the end of the month. She wanted to familiarize her replacement with how an emergency situation was handled and introduce her to the members of hospital management who would be at the meeting. One thing was certain, Neill would be given a lot of credit for the success of the plan they’d implemented to manage the flu outbreak.

      In fact, she had to admit that Neill’s knowledge and devotion to his work since his arrival at Eagle Mountain Hospital had allowed all the staff to be more involved with patient care and treatment. Neill never hesitated to confer with staff or to explain how he came to a diagnosis. The rest of the medical staff loved every minute of the time he spent with them; he treated them like members of the team.

      For her part, she was just relieved that he hadn’t mentioned anything about that night in front of Rigby’s or the fact that they hadn’t gone out to dinner. Maybe he was as relieved as she was. A niggling sense of disappointment clicked through her as she considered the possibility.

      She was answering her emails when Neill appeared at the door, looking a little less tired than the last time she’d seen him. She hit the send button on her last email, glancing at him as he strode into her office. “How’s it going?” she asked, shutting off her computer.

      “I’ve just come from a meeting of the internal medicine group, and we’ve been discussing the clinics.”

      “That sounds interesting. Anything new?”

      “Well, yes and no. Have you had time to consider my proposal on reorganizing the clinics?” he asked, settling into the chair across from her.

      “Not yet. I’ve had other priorities.”

      “Yes, I realize that, but the number of no-shows at the diabetic clinic is worrisome. We talked about this at the meeting and concluded that we need to get more of these people in here for follow-up and education.”

      “One of the major problems is that many of those people work all day and find it hard to keep an appointment during working hours.”

      “Plus, I suspect they don’t want to change their eating habits.”

      “Which only increases the issues around weight reduction and elevated blood sugars.”

      “It’s a vicious circle.” He rubbed his jaw in thought. “Could we consider an evening diabetic clinic?”

      In the past they’d been unable to schedule an evening clinic. The doctor responsible for the clinic could rarely work evenings because of family responsibilities. “You’d be willing to run it?”

      “Sure. Mom is really enjoying looking after Morgan, and she says that if I need to do an evening clinic, she’ll look after her. Could we get nursing and dietitian support?”

      How long had she wanted to do this? There had always been little interest by anyone but her. There seemed to be an overall sense that people with diabetes didn’t require more than an assessment, with little consideration given to supporting them while they made long-term lifestyle changes. Basically, they were given a diet and appropriate medications, then sent back out into the community to fend for themselves. The trouble was, they needed a lot more than that. Most of the patients couldn’t leave work to attend the daytime clinics, and without an evening clinic they missed out on further help and evaluation as they tried to keep their diabetes under control.

      But with Neill advocating for improvements, there was an opportunity to change these people’s lives and their family’s lives, as well. “I’m sure administration will approve the nursing hours, and Melanie Waller would work with the patients on their diet. Until I find someone to do the evening nursing hours, I’ll be there.”

      “That’s fantastic! With your involvement we’ll be able to make this into a really effective program,” he said, his pleasure shining in his eyes.

      Before she left for Portsmouth, she’d find a nurse with a special interest in diabetes to look after the evening clinic, someone who felt the same way she did about the support needed for these people. “I’ll set up a meeting with Melanie, you and me, and we can decide which evening of the week and how many people we can reasonably see during the