The Doctor's Dating Bargain. Teresa Southwick
to her post until she passes out. I can be fair, but only if I know what the problem is.” Cam threw up her hands in exasperation. “Why didn’t she say something?”
“Maybe it’s famous heiress intimidation syndrome. All the symptoms are there.”
“I’m a very nice person,” she defended.
“Then try talking to her like one.”
Cam thought about it and nodded. “Can’t hurt. Thanks for the suggestion.”
“You’re welcome.”
Now that she was calmer, she remembered that he’d planned to flag her down. “Was there something you wanted?”
“Yeah.” For just an instant intensity darkened his eyes and then disappeared. “My sister checked out your tires.”
“And?”
“They’re practically new and she couldn’t find any damage. No evidence of puncture, but the cap was missing. Syd’s guess is that someone deliberately let the air out.” He frowned. “Probably a prank.”
“Is it still considered a prank when a disgruntled employee does it?” Her sigh had an awful lot of defeat in it.
Obviously Ben noticed because he slung an arm across her shoulders. “They’ll come around. Give it time.”
She leaned into him for a moment, soaking up the comfort he offered. Again he made her feel safe, made her miss her big brother. He’d taken care of her in a way her father never had and she missed him every single day. But Ben wasn’t her brother and a hum of awareness vibrated through her that suddenly didn’t feel safe at all.
She pulled away from him. “It’s been almost three months and things here at the lodge are worse than ever. In my experience, people either don’t like me or they pretend to be my friend in order to get something from me.”
“Betrayal leaves a mark.”
She wasn’t going to confirm or deny. “What do I owe your sister?”
“Nothing. She took it to the shop and put air in the tire then brought it back.”
“A house call?”
He shrugged. “Call it public relations. If anyone here at the lodge needs a good mechanic, put in a good word.”
“Okay. Please give her my thanks and tell her that I appreciate what she did very much.” She started toward the stairs. “My break is over.”
She didn’t want it to be over because being with Ben felt like a sanctuary.
“I’ll see you around,” he said.
Not really a good idea. He was right about betrayal. The mark it left on her was about not being able to trust anyone. Ever. That wasn’t much of a problem here, since everyone fell in the hating her camp. So that made her wonder why the hometown hero was the only one in town being nice to her.
Chapter Four
“I put a patient in exam room one. And I use the term patient loosely, if you know what I mean.”
Ben looked at the disgusted expression on nurse Ginny’s face and was afraid he did know what she meant. It was another single woman faking a sprained ankle or wrist or something else as an excuse to put the moves on him.
“Does she have a casserole?”
Ginny grinned, a sign she was enjoying this way too much. “Yes.”
“Okay. Is there a chart?”
“Uh-huh.” She handed it over. “The home phone number is highlighted and underlined and asterisked.”
He looked at the paperwork inside the manila folder. Cherri Lyn Hoffman. Twenty-five. Worked in accounting at the Blackwater Lake power company. Single. Discomfort in right ankle. “Well, I guess we should see what’s wrong with her.”
“Or not.” Ginny headed down the hall to the break room.
“Aren’t you coming with me?”
“You’re a big boy. I think you can handle this.” She kept walking, then turned into the last room and disappeared.
Ben sighed as he knocked once on the exam room door. “Miss Hoffman?”
“Come in.”
He did. In this Victorian house donated to the town and turned into a clinic, the rooms were bigger. There was a sink in the corner and walls filled with charts and posters. One for nutrition, with portions of fruit and vegetables dominating. Another was a skeleton with bones labeled.
The patient was sitting on the paper-covered exam table with her legs dangling. Brown hair fell to her shoulders and teased the tight white T-shirt. Some shiny stuff sparkled on the front of it. A denim skirt the size of a postage stamp hit her just below the curve of her thigh and barely covered her…assets.
He left the door open, then went to the sink to wash his hands. “Hi, Miss Hoffman. I’m Dr. McKnight.”
“Please, call me Cherri.”
And you can call me Dr. McKnight, he thought, but couldn’t say it. “What seems to be the problem?”
“I think I twisted my ankle.”
“Let me take a look.” He sat on the rolling stool and moved toward her, and the very high heels she was wearing. That was the first clue she was faking. He looked at both legs. “Which one hurts?”
“The left.”
He looked in the chart where Ginny had noted that, per the patient, the injury was to the right ankle. “I don’t see any swelling or trauma.”
Cherri stuck her leg out. “Maybe you can feel something.”
He could feel it was a sham without touching her or looking at an X-ray. “Why don’t you walk across the room for me?”
“All right.”
She slid to the step at the end of the table, then stepped to the floor with an exaggerated wince as her right leg took her weight. Turning toward the doorway, she limped on the right leg. After a pivot she came back and favored the opposite side before stopping at the exam table next to him.
She blinked her big blue eyes. “What do you think, Doctor?”
God, he hated this. Several times a week this happened. He wanted to tell her not to waste his time. This wasn’t a game and he wouldn’t order needless diagnostic tests or prescribe medication for a nonexistent condition. But he was a professional and couldn’t say any of that.
“I don’t think it’s serious.” He kept his tone neutral with an effort. “When it bothers you, take over-the-counter medication for pain. Elevate it and alternate cold and heat.”
“Thank you. I’m so relieved it’s nothing serious.”
It was serious, but not in a way she would understand. He stood and headed for the door. “All right, then. Have a good day.”
“Wait.” She moved quickly to stop him. “Don’t I need to see you again? Another appointment? Or something?”
“No. I’m sure you’ll be fine.”
She lifted a covered casserole dish from the chair next to the door beside her purse. “This is for you. I thought you being a bachelor and a busy doctor that you might like something home-cooked.”
“Thank you.” He took it but couldn’t manage a smile. “Goodbye.”
“Are you going to call me? To see how I’m doing?”
“I’m sure you’re fine.”
Before she could stop him again, he walked out, down the hall to the break room. Once safely