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He bit his tongue to keep from responding.
“Is something wrong?”
He sighed. He was being such a jerk. She’d been out working, not screwing around.
“Just tired.” He turned toward her and frowned.
She looked awful.
Or at least as awful as a woman with Melissa’s classic features could look. Dark circles marred the pale skin beneath her almond-shaped eyes, and wisps of honey-colored hair haphazardly escaped the tight ponytail she usually wore.
“There’s steak and salad on the kitchen counter.” No need of her passing out from hypoglycemia when he told her he was moving. Let her eat, get her blood sugar up, and then he’d drop his bombshell. He’d remind her that he wasn’t content to be constantly shoved aside.
She wrinkled her nose. “I’m not hungry.”
“You need to eat. You’ve lost weight.”
The skin over her cheeks was taut and the fullness of her curves had lost their lushness. She looked gaunt. She worked too hard, probably forgot to eat altogether when her office was busy, which was most of the time.
“Rough day?” she asked, averting her gaze at his continued scrutiny.
His frown deepened, but he let her change the topic of conversation as she looked ready to collapse.
“Not particularly. No one died.” Nobody dying always made for a better day when one worked in the medical profession. “At least, no one I wasn’t able to bring back.”
Death, the opponent he faced daily.
“That’s good.” She stared off into the woods, her astute eyes quickly picking out a deer grazing at the border of the trees. But she was on edge. Totally un-Melissa-like.
“Something happen?” he asked.
She blew out a long breath. “Ray Barnes got caught in his combine.”
He winced. Having worked on farming-equipment cases, he knew the man would have been a mess. Although he would have gotten an adrenaline rush from taking care of such a patient, Melissa preferred the routine aspects of medicine that bored him senseless.
“There wasn’t anything I could do.” Her voice trembled. “He died before he could be airlifted to Nashville.” She closed her eyes. “I’ve been with Wilma and their daughters all evening.”
The image of a portly white-haired woman and two spinsters in their forties came to mind.
Melissa’s shoulders shook, but she didn’t make a sound. Only the singing of crickets broke the silence.
James could feel her pain and struggled to find the right words to give her comfort. How was it he could calm a dying woman while he put life back into her body, but felt useless when it came to Melissa?
“How’s she holding up?” he finally asked, breaking the silence.
“Not well.” Her eyes remained shut. “At her daughters’ request, I prescribed Valium to help her rest.” A soft hiccup jerked at his heart. How could he dump his unhappiness with their relationship on her when she’d had such an awful day?
“I promised Lila and Faye I’d stop by to check on her in the morning before I go in to the office,” she continued.
And there was his answer.
There would always be some patient with a problem that Melissa took on as her own standing between them, taking precedence over anything they shared.
No doubt she’d made house calls that morning before starting her day at the office, too.
“You should have her come into the clinic like everyone else.” Only everyone else didn’t come into the office. They expected Melissa to run to them. Just look at what it was doing to her. “You can’t keep spoiling these people.”
Melissa’s eyes opened. “Taking good care of my patients isn’t spoiling them. Besides, say what you will, but I’ve seen you in action.” A weary smile played on her lips. “Few doctors can rival your bedside manner.”
