Rescued By Marriage. Dianne Drake

      CHAPTER ONE

      FOSTER ARMSTRONG slid the offer across the table to Della Riordan with an anxious smile. “It’s the best offer you’re going to get. In my opinion, for the money, it’s quite a bargain.”

      He was correct, it probably was. One medical practice, one medical office and one house on rolling acreage. Actually, it was much more than she thought she’d be able to manage, which was why she was still a bit hesitant about this deal. It seemed too good to be true, and she simply didn’t have the money to gamble if that’s how it turned out. This was their future after all—hers and Meghan’s. There was no room in it to make a drastic mistake.

      Except for her own little pittance of a nest egg she’d had tucked away when Anthony had died three months ago, Della had very little else to get herself going again. Anthony had seen to that quite handily, which had come as quite a shock. Barely one day after being widowed, Della had learned that her husband had left them virtually penniless with, quite literally, only the clothes on their backs and a handful of personal items. On top of that, he’d acquired more debt than Della had known about, debt she could still barely even comprehend, debt she was going to be forced to make good on. It wasn’t like she was dumb about these things—she’d always balanced the household books and even assisted with the clinic financial records. But Anthony had been deceitful about his spending. He’d been a successful surgeon and an amazing doctor overall. But he’d also been a liar and a cheat, and ev-everything he’d been to Della had merely been an illusion. Smoke and mirrors.

      For all their eight years of marriage, Anthony Riordan had been living well beyond his means and hiding every speck of it from his wife. That, and a high-style mistress or two along the way.

      “It’s a bargain,” she said tentatively. “And I’m definitely tempted by it.” And the good thing about Redcliffe Island was that it was a thousand miles away from Anthony’s family. But that was the bad thing, too, because they had Meghan in their custody now, and a thousand miles would be such a staggering distance from her daughter. Even thinking about it brought a sharp pang to Della’s heart. The loneliness seeped in so easily these days without Meghan, and she spent most of her time in the very depths of despair over what she’d lost because of Anthony—not the house, not the cars, not the furniture, not the boat. She’d lost Meghan, and for that she would never forgive him. “So let me get this straight. If I agree to the terms, the residents of the island will chip in and subsidize half of the cost? Just like that, they’re going to pay half the fee to buy the medical practice from their former doctor simply to get me there?”

      The balding, middle-aged, serious-looking man opposite her smiled. “That’s the offer they’ve made. They haven’t had a resident doctor in years, and they want one, so it looks like they’ll do whatever’s necessary to get one there, including subsidizing half the cost of the medical practice, if that’s what it takes to make the offer look appealing. What else can I say? They have a need and so do you. Perfect match, the way I see it.”

      “And it’s only two miles off the mainland? This Redcliffe Island is only two miles away?” The idea of a small island was a little claustrophobic, she thought, but if she could get away to the mainland every now and then, it wouldn’t be so bad.

      “Two miles, and many of the people do commute back and forth every day. There’s a regular commuter ferry so it’s not like you’re going to be completely cut off from the world.” He chuckled. “Electricity, running water, indoor plumbing, all the comforts of civilization come included. There’s nothing at all backward about the place.”

      At this point in her life, if it was a fresh start that would get Meghan back, backward wouldn’t matter. Della looked at the contract again. This could be the perfect solution. Set up a practice, prove she was a fit mother. “And they do realize I’m only a general practitioner?” She hadn’t gone far enough in her education to have a specialty. After graduating medical school, she’d gone straight to an internship and from there straight into labor and delivery…as the patient, not the doctor. Consequently, she’d had no specialty training, which meant the hospitals didn’t want her. Neither did any clinics because a general practitioner with only public health experience wasn’t exactly in high demand. “No specialty whatsoever.”

      “They know your credentials, and you do come highly recommended by your clinic. If the islanders need a specialist, they’ll go to the mainland for one. They’re fine with that arrangement.”

      Della sighed. She was very tempted…Still, when it sounded too good to be true, it usually