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Jolie sank into one of the uncomfortable wooden waiting room chairs facing the doorway. It wasn’t hard to imagine that her domineering, powerful father had made a few enemies, but surely this couple’s attitude couldn’t be widely held...could it?
A four-wheel drive black Ford pickup cruised slowly past on Main Street, and Jolie stared after it. Matt Dawson was at the wheel, his tanned arm crooked in the open window at his side. Sunglasses obscured his eyes.
She sighed in appreciation of an all-too-handsome man.Stay clear,an inner voice warned her.
As if she needed any warning.
At the sound of more footsteps coming up the walk, she rose, feeling oddly guilty for taking the brief rest.
After a cursory knock on the door frame, two council members stepped inside.
Marge Wilson, barely five feet but a good two hundred pounds to Wayne Forman’s six feet of gaunt sinew and bone, thrust a big platter of cookies into Jolie’s hands and beamed at her. “Welcome to Garrett Bluff, dear.”
Wayne held a large potted peace lily. He glanced around, then moved forward to set it on an end table. Studied it. Then rotated the pot a quarter-turn so its giant pink bow faced out into the room.
“Thanks so much.” Jolie placed the cookies on the receptionist’s counter and gave her future office space a wry look. “Garrett Bluff might be a wonderful town, but this clinic has a ways to go.”
Pursing her lips, Marge scanned the room. “Old Doc Grimes had a strong practice here for decades. He did just fine.”
Yeah, but he’s long dead and so is his practice.Most of the dog-eared patient folders in the cabinets were from the 1970s, when he’d first started the practice, through 2015—the year he retired and subsequently died.
She’d heard that several young doctors had stayed briefly and left. For a while now, a clinic in the next town had tried sending out physician’s assistants for routine care, but PAs were heard to come by in this remote area, and the building had been mostly empty for several years.
Little consistency and outdated records meant there was no viable practice to take over. She would be starting from scratch.
“I imagine people will be happy to have local medical care again,” Jolie said tactfully.
“That’s why we advertised,” Wayne agreed. “Too hard for some folks to make the trip to Billings or Bozeman in the winter. Too far in an emergency. Even when we have to airlift people out, a local doctor could help a great deal on this end.”
“Two people stopped by a few minutes ago and they didn’t seem happy to see a Maxwell taking over. A paunchy guy in his forties and a grim woman with short dark hair.”
Marge and Wayne exchanged a quick, knowing glance. “Your experience and education are perfect,” Marge soothed. “And your references were outstanding. You’ll do fine.”
Jolie’s niggling doubts flared into true concern. “Is there anything I should know? The community...”
Stepping forward, Wayne gave her a hearty clap on the back. “We’reallglad to have you here and hope you’ll decide to stay on after our agreement is up. You could buy or lease this building. Put down roots. Garrett Bluff is a wonderful place to raise a family.”
Both he and Marge started for the door.
“Wait a minute.”
Wayne kept going. Marge stopped and turned around, a wary smile on her weathered face. “What, dear?”
“How many doctors were interested in coming here?”
“Oh, my. We had a great number of calls and letters.”
“No...how many actually came out here to look over the clinic?”
“You were certainly the very best.”
“How many?” Jolie persisted gently. “I’d like to know.”
Marge sighed. “We had three who came out.”
This was like pulling teeth. Though she already knew the answer, she wanted to be sure. “And how many wanted to take over?”
“Only the best. You.”
