A Ranch for His Family. Hope Navarre

she’ll run out. I told him we could drop it off on our way home. I left a message on her machine so she doesn’t turn around and drive back in.”

      Robyn had seen Ellie in tears as she’d left the store. It wasn’t surprising that she’d forgotten her medicine. Having Neal Bryant for a son would be more than enough to raise any sane woman’s blood pressure.

      “Sure. We can drop it off after lunch.”

      “Well, if you’re going to the hospital, I’m going shopping. The dress store is having a sale. Give me a call when you’re done at the hospital and I’ll meet you at the restaurant.” She opened the truck door and hopped out.

      “See you then.”

      A few minutes later, Robyn entered the Hill County Hospital through the front doors. After checking to find which room Mrs. Eldrich was in, Robyn made her way down the hall, pushed open the door of 106 and entered quietly.

      Dr. Cain sat beside the bed of the small, elderly woman and wrote on a pad with a blue marker. He held the message up for her to read, but she pushed it away with her left hand and moaned softly. He bowed his head a moment, and then he reached out and laid his hand gently over hers. “That’s okay, Mrs. Eldrich, we can try again later.”

      Robyn said, “Hello. What can I do to help?”

      He glanced up and smiled as she moved to stand beside him. “Am I glad to see you.”

      “Tell me what’s going on.”

      “Mrs. Eldrich has suffered a stroke that has paralyzed her right side. She won’t answer any of my questions and I can’t tell why. The nurse from the care home says she hasn’t had any trouble reading lips or writing until this morning.”

      “Has she tried writing with her left hand?”

      “She’s tried, but I can’t make out any of it.”

      Robyn sat on the bed and touched the woman’s shoulder.

      Mrs. Eldrich opened her eyes, but she seemed to have trouble focusing. Robyn began to sign, but the woman closed her eyes and tossed restlessly in the bed. Her left hand twisted the covers into a tight wad and then slowly she began shaping letters.

      “What is she saying?” he asked.

      “She says, ‘See half.’”

      “See half of what?”

      Robyn glanced at his perplexed face. “I think she means she can only see half of everything.”

      Comprehension dawned on his face. “Hemiopia. No wonder she can’t read lips or my writing. She has vision only in the left half of each eye. Why didn’t I think of that? Ask her if she’s in pain. Man, I’m glad you showed up.”

      They spent the next hour assessing Mrs. Eldrich. Robyn spelled the questions slowly on the woman’s hand, letting her feel each letter, and waited as she spelled her answers slowly with her left hand in return. Finally, Dr. Cain called a halt.

      “Tell her to rest now. I’ll have the nurse bring her something to help her sleep.”

      Together, they left the room. Out in the hall, he paused. “Thanks for coming in. I don’t know how I would have managed without you.”

      “No problem. I was already in town. I have an idea how the rest of the staff can communicate with Mrs. Eldrich.”

      “How?”

      “We could use a raised alphabet board. We have one for the children to play with in the lobby. Mrs. Eldrich could feel the letters to spell words for the staff, and the staff could guide her hand to each letter to spell a reply. It wouldn’t be perfect, but it might work.”

      He smiled and started down the hall. “That sounds like a great idea. You amaze me. Did they teach you to be this creative in nursing school?”

      She fell into step beside him. “Sure. Don’t doctors have to take Make Do with What You’ve Got 101?”

      He shook his head. “I don’t remember it. I may have cut class that day.”

      She grinned. “You must have missed it when you were in Basic Bad Handwriting.”

      “Hey, my handwriting isn’t that bad. Is it?”

      “For a doctor or for a preschooler?”

      “Ouch! I don’t think I deserved that.”

      “Maybe not,” she conceded.

      He stopped beside the nursing station and faced her. His expression grew serious. “My handwriting may be bad, but my eyesight’s not. I know a good nurse when I see one.”

      Surprised, she said, “Thank you.”

      “You’re welcome. Have you ever thought about going on with your training, maybe into advanced practice, like a family-medicine nurse practitioner?”

      “Sure, someday I’d love to, but I can’t afford to go back to school anytime soon.”

      The additional years of education to become a family-medicine nurse practitioner would allow her to diagnose and treat patients without the constant supervision of a physician. She would be able to perform prenatal, well-child, and adult checkups, even diagnose and manage minor traumas like suturing cuts and splinting broken bones, things she wasn’t allowed by law to do as a registered nurse. Her ability to make treatment decisions, order tests and write prescriptions would free up the physicians to concentrate on more complex diseases and conditions. An NP would be a welcome asset to a rural hospital already struggling with a shortage of doctors, but education costs money.

      “Didn’t you get the application for the NP scholarships I gave to the nursing supervisor?”

      “You did that?” she asked in amazement. She’d only worked with him for a few short months.

      “Yes. Did you fill it out?”

      She hadn’t, but she hadn’t thrown it away, either. It lay in the top drawer of her desk, tempting her with its possibilities, even though she knew she couldn’t send it. Not now, not with her family losing the ranch.

      Now more than ever, they’d need a steady income until the ranch sold, and who knew how long that would take? But she wasn’t about to discuss her financial problems with him. “I like what I’m doing, and I’m needed here.”

      “Think about it. You have a gift for medicine, and I’d hate to see it go to waste.”

      “Thank you, but I hardly think my talent is going to waste here. You needed me today.”

      He flipped open the chart. “Indeed I did. I’ll just scribble a few illegible orders here.”

      She grinned. “Sorry about the handwriting crack.”

      “You can make it up to me.”

      “And how would I do that?”

      He closed the chart and smiled at her. “Have dinner with me tonight.”

      His request caught her totally off guard. Quickly, she glanced around to see who might have overheard his offer, but the nursing station was deserted. She stared at his friendly, handsome face and blurted out, “I don’t know what to say.”

      His bright blue eyes sparkled with amusement. “How about, ‘Yes, Adam, I’d love to have dinner with you. I thought you would never ask.’”

      She clasped her arms across her middle and stared at the floor. “I can’t.”

      “Tomorrow night?” he asked hopefully.

      “I don’t think it would be a good idea. I’m sorry.”

      “No, I’m the one who’s sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

      He was silent a long moment. When she glanced at him, his kind smile made her regret her hasty decision. “You