Page 8 of Welcome Home to Ivy Falls (Ivy Falls #3)

FORD

No Lasting Damage

To be honest, I wasn’t a train guy. I’d taken them in every part of the world.

India. Canada. All over Europe. But I never understood the appeal.

The shifting and rocking of the car and incessant intercom garble grated on my last nerve.

Even the Eurostar, while an engineering marvel, was a little too much, with my ears popping every ten minutes as the train raced underneath the English Channel toward Paris.

But as I stood in the hall facing the waiting room of the Ivy Falls Community Health Center, all I saw was train wallpaper, and a track built overhead for a tiny engine.

The nurses periodically blew the tiny whistle for the children (and the adults too), who all grinned ear to ear whenever the jarring noise bounced off the walls.

I waited near the door because, according to Shirley, the head nurse, every patient arriving today wanted to meet the person filling in for Dr Sheridan, who was taking a three-month sabbatical to travel with his wife, Sylvie, all over the United Kingdom and Europe.

Once I was done meeting and greeting the waiting patients, which was a strange, yet amusing, experience, I raced back to the office to catch my breath and grab a handful of trail mix before my next appointments arrived.

The office was so small that if I stretched out both arms I could touch the walls.

When I’d interviewed with Dr Sheridan two weeks ago, he’d apologized that they didn’t have a separate office for me.

That they’d had to expand as Ivy Falls grew, and that I’d have to make do with his space while he was gone on what he called his ‘second honeymoon’.

He’d kindly cleared most of the clutter from the old wood desk that was covered in nicks and water stains.

I wasn’t about to complain. It was an office.

With a door. When I worked on Humanity of the Seas , my single-berth cabin was less than 700 square feet and had to act as both my living and personal workspace outside the clinic.

It was cramped and claustrophobic too much of the time.

I dipped back out into the hall and found the tiny kitchen reserved for employees. A small coffee maker sat on the counter. I poured myself a cup, and the nutty scent made me think of the bookstore. Of Piper.

The minute I saw her standing behind the mahogany bar, that long dark braid lying so perfectly over her shoulder, I was stunned into silence.

She reminded me of a woman in a Degas painting I saw at the Musée d’Orsay.

The confident figure gazing at something in the distance, not noticing that every eye in the room was focused on her and her unforgettable beauty.

In Harpeth Manor every girl had perfectly cut and colored hair.

They were beautiful for sure, but there was always a sense of longing in their eyes.

Like they wanted something more – which I understood.

The time I spent in Senegal allowed me to carve my own path.

Make my own choices. Now that I’d returned from what my parents called my ‘Misspent Years of Charity’, they thought they could talk me into staying.

It wasn’t the life I wanted, and deep down they knew it, but my mother still took every opportunity to throw an eligible woman my way. The scene at the country club a few days ago was by far the worst.

My parents had insisted we were having brunch as a family.

They lured me in with the promise of seeing Gray.

Even though it meant I had to wear a stiff blue blazer and khaki pants in the wet summer heat, it was worth it to spend time with my brother.

I should have known it was a trap when Missy appeared and my parents invited her to join us.

Claudia Cannon Beloit Foster was like a hound scenting a fox.

Laser-focused on one thing: getting a wedding ring on my left hand.

For most of the brunch we traded small talk.

We’d gone to school together, and Missy brought me up to date on what most of our friends were doing.

She went on to talk about all the new restaurants in Nashville she wanted to try.

Places where they were playing live music.

My mother watched us with eager anticipation, more than once interjecting her own comments, including how she was happy that I was home for good.

My father bitterly added how he was glad I was done with my ‘ridiculous gallivanting’.

I gripped my napkin under the table, biting back all my angry comments.

After we finished our drinks, I told Missy it was nice to see her, excused myself to go to the bathroom and promptly walked out the door. I drove the forty-five minutes back to Ivy Falls, ignoring the constant calls and texts pouring in from my parents.

Too frustrated by their refusal to listen to what I wanted, I paced the brick-paved streets of Ivy Falls, the heat almost unbearable until I slipped into the little bookstore. The last thing I expected was to encounter a beautiful woman. Or be doused with an iced latte.

Days later and Piper still floated through my mind on a regular basis. The memory of her touch, that embarrassed smile as she brushed her hand over my pants, played on a constant loop in my head.

My phone buzzed on the desk. Another text from my mother. This one apologized for ambushing me. I pushed the phone into my pocket and shoved another handful of nuts into my mouth.

There was a slight tap on the door and Janice, the office manager, popped her head inside. ‘Doing all right in here?’

‘Yes, just taking a quick breather.’

She inched into the room, tucking her white hair neatly behind her ears. ‘Shirley says you’ve already seen eleven patients this morning. That’s quite the record. Even on his best days, Doc Sheridan couldn’t get to more than seven by lunchtime.’

‘They’ve all been easy cases. Allergies. Small colds.’

She glanced over her shoulder and took another step into the room, closing the door behind her. Why did I get the feeling I was about to be scolded?

‘The doc usually takes his time with folks. Asks not only about their health, but about their family and job too. He…’ She hesitated, her mouth pinching at the corners. ‘Well, feel free to slow down with the patients.’

‘Have I done something wrong?’

‘No. It’s only that you’re new to Ivy Falls and—’

‘People are used to Dr Sheridan,’ I finished.

‘Yes, and they want to get to know you too.’ She gave me a weighted look. ‘But that can’t happen if you’re slapdashing them out the door.’

‘They do know I’m only filling in, right? That he’ll be back in a few months.’

She waved a hand at me. ‘That doesn’t matter. If you’re treating them, you’re family.’

I took a thick gulp. Family? These people didn’t know me. Hell, my own parents cared more about their social status than whether I was happy.

Like she could sense my mood change, she took another step toward the small desk.

‘Before he left, Doc told me you spent time on a ship off the coast of Africa caring for those who needed your skills. It’s no different here.

When people walk in that door, they trust you.

Believe you care about Ivy Falls. All I’m saying is give them a chance to get to know you. ’

On the ship, we were on a tight schedule.

Every day we had clinic, a long line of patients waited in the corridor sometimes for hours.

There wasn’t time for small talk. To get to know them.

All they needed was a physician’s attention, and I was laser-focused on making sure they got the care they deserved without getting into too much detail about their lives.

Janice’s narrowed eyes and tight jaw made it clear that a different approach was needed here.

‘I hear you, and thanks for the heads-up. Been practicing medicine for several years and I guess I still have things to learn.’

‘Every job is different and the people here need a gentler touch.’

‘I’m beginning to understand that.’

‘Good,’ she said with a satisfied tone. ‘Take a minute. Get a sip of that coffee and another handful of trail mix. When you’re finished, head to Room Three.

There’s a walk-in that needs your immediate attention.

’ She hesitated near the threshold. ‘This place is special. You’ll see that soon enough. ’

Piper’s warm brown eyes flashed through my mind again.

She glanced to the busy hallway and said, ‘I’ll let you have a little peace now.’

Once she was gone, I sat back in the leather chair. Dr Sheridan had cleaned off his desk, but his personal touches filled the room. Pictures of his family sat on one part of a bookshelf. Other items like his framed college degrees and congratulatory plaques covered the rest of the space.

I wasn’t like my brother in the sense that I was against getting married and having a family.

I just didn’t see where it would fit into my life.

I wanted to keep working in Senegal, using my skills to help those who couldn’t get medical care anywhere else.

It was impossible to think how a relationship, or a family, fit into any of that plan.

When I first met Dr Sheridan, I was taken aback by his casual demeanor.

The twists of his white hair, and the psychedelic splash of color that covered his casual button-down.

He may have looked like a hippie, but the way he spoke about medicine and the people in this community said he had an intelligence to be admired.

I was used to the frenetic pace of the ship’s clinic. The need to get through as many patients as possible, but this place required a different approach. I could do what Janice asked. Take my time with the people if that’s what they needed. It was only three months anyway.

My phone buzzed in my pocket again. Another text from my mother. She was overbearing, and irritating, but she was also my mom.