A Wife For Dr. Sam. Phyllis Halldorson
didn’t just slip when he talked to Kirsten. It pitched and bucked and landed him flat on his backside.
Even more important, why did it matter so much to him? He didn’t even know her. All told they’d only been together four and a half or five hours at the most. She was nothing to him but a damn nuisance, and still he felt sick when he remembered the pain and contempt in her tone as she’d delivered that last scathing and well-deserved tonguelashing to him.
No woman since Belinda had been able to hurt and upset him so deeply, and that terrified him more than anything else that had happened. He’d vowed never to set himself up for that much agony again, and up to now he’d never allowed a woman to get close enough to try. It was obvious to him that he couldn’t handle a busy medical practice and a deeply committed love affair at the same time. It had to be one or the other, and he had to make a living. Besides, his medical practice could never betray him the way a lover could.
Still, he had to apologize to Kirsten. He could never square it with his conscience if he didn’t. As soon as he had a few minutes free he would call her, tell her how sorry he was for insulting her and try to persuade her to have dinner with him as a parting gesture. A way to try to soften some of the justifiable contempt she felt for him.
For some reason it was important to him that she not always remember him as an insensitive clod.
By eight o’clock breakfast had been served at the Buckley farm, and Jim and the hired man who was replacing Buck while he was gone had left to do whatever it was they did in the fields. Amber and Gloria were still asleep, and Coralie and Kirsten were taking a breather and having a second cup of coffee at the table in the kitchen.
Kirsten wanted to talk to Coralie about Sam, but she hoped to lead up to it gradually, instead of tackling the thorny subject head-on. The problem was she couldn’t think of a way to do that, so she just asked the first question that came to mind. “What time do your stepdaughters wake up?”
Coralie chuckled. “During the school year they have to get up when Jim and I do, so we negotiated a compromise for the summer vacation. I’ve assigned each of them chores around the house that must be completed every day, but as long as they keep up with them I let them sleep as late as they want to in the mornings. So far it’s working out beautifully.”
Kirsten was surprised. “How did you get so knowledgeable about handling teenagers? As I remember from your letters, they were pretty undisciplined when you first came here.”
Coralie shuddered. “That’s an understatement, but I just think back to when I was their age and remember how I felt. Besides, they’re at a time in life when their bodies are growing and changing so fast that they need a lot of sleep.
“Jim’s daughters are very bright and mature. They’re always open to suggestions, it’s only orders they resist. But, hey, we’ve got much more exciting things to talk about than adolescent discipline.” Her eyes twinkled, and a happy smile lit her face. “I’m dying to know how you liked Sam. Did you let him kiss you good-night when he took you home?”
Kirsten sighed and took a big swallow of her coffee. She’d known Coralie would be hoping to hear that Kirsten and Sam had fallen in love at first sight, and preferably that they’d already started making wedding plans.
She hated to dash Coralie’s dream of negotiating a match made in heaven. Actually, now that there was no longer even the remotest possibility of such a thing happening, Kirsten realized that deep down she’d been more open to the idea than she’d been willing to admit, even to herself. It could have been great to live in a small country village as the wife of the town’s handsome doctor.
But not this town’s doctor! No way! Obviously Coralie didn’t know that Jim’s friend was a self-centered egotist who assumed that every woman he dated was panting to get him into bed.
Just thinking about it started her adrenaline pumping and gave her the energy to tackle the sensitive subject. “Coralie, we need to talk,” she said carefully.
“I know. So talk,” Coralie answered eagerly. “What did you think of him? Isn’t he a hunk?”
“Oh, he’s a hunk, all right,” Kirsten agreed.
“Did he ask you to go out with him?” Coralie obviously hadn’t caught the sarcasm in Kirsten’s tone.
“No, he didn’t, and if he had I’d have said no,” she answered starkly. Apparently there was no polite way she could make Coralie understand that her matchmaking was unwelcome, and Kirsten was through pussyfooting around.
Coralie’s eyes widened. “But why? Are you two still upset over that accident? Surely you can put that behind you—”
“No, it’s not that,” Kirsten interrupted. “I’m sorry but I just don’t like the man and he doesn’t like me, either.”
Coralie looked stunned. “But I don’t understand. You’re both such nice people. How could you not like each other? What happened—”
Kirsten watched as her friend stopped in midsentence and her expression turned from puzzlement to shock. “Kirsten, he didn’t try to—”
“No!” Oh Lord, this conversation was getting totally out of hand. She couldn’t let Coralie think Sam had gotten rough or physical with her. “No, Coralie, he didn’t try anything. He never laid a hand on me. Actually, sex is the last thing he’d want of me. I don’t turn him on, that’s for sure.”
Coralie shook her head in disbelief, but Kirsten hurried on. “We did quarrel, but it was strictly verbal. Like I told you, we’re just not compatible, and I’m afraid I have to insist that you forget about the matchmaking. Not only with Sam but with any man. I came here to visit you and your new family, not to find a husband. Please, honor my wishes.”
“Well, of…of course I will if that’s what you want.” Coralie sounded dazed. “I’m so sorry—” Her sentence was cut short by the sound of feet clopping down the stairs just before Amber bounded into the room.
“Good morning,” she said cheerfully. “Any chance of getting some breakfast?”
Coralie shut her mouth but seemed unable to shift her mind’s gears onto a different subject, so Kirsten managed a big smile and answered for her. “You bet. The scrambled eggs and bacon are still warm on the back of the stove, and Coralie made the most mouth-watering banana muffins.”
She pushed back her chair and stood up. “Sit down and I’ll fix you a plate.”
Amber waved her away and giggled. “Thanks, but we have rules around here. Anyone who’s not at the table when meals are served has to wait on themselves.”
Kirsten held up her hands in mock surrender. “Sorry. I wouldn’t dream of breaking any of the rules, so if you’ll all excuse me I’ll go back to my quarters and finish settling in.”
She started walking toward the back door, when Coralie’s voice stopped her. “Kirsten, I’ll be finished up here in about an hour and then I’ll come over. I want to talk to you. We have a lot to catch up on.”
Kirsten got the message. “Great. Bring a couple of those muffins and I’ll put the teakettle on.”
It was nearly ten o’clock when Coralie tapped on the door to Buck’s little house. Kirsten had spent the intervening time pacing the floor, berating herself for being so out-spoken about her dislike for Sam and wondering if she’d done irreparable harm to her treasured friendship with Coralie.
She hurried to open the door and admit her friend. “You don’t have to knock,” she said. “After all, this is your house.”
Coralie stepped inside. “It may be owned by the family corporation,” she acknowledged, “but it’s the home of whomever happens to be in residence at the time, and right now that’s you. I wouldn’t violate your privacy by just walking in.”
Kirsten uttered a