Only Yours (Fool's Gold #5)(60)

He’d faced situations like this before and usually found it easier on everyone if he simply walked away. Getting involved only complicated an already difficult process. Still, he found himself walking toward her, then pulling her around to face him.

“I’m sorry,” he told her.

She nodded once, then went into his arms.

He held her while she cried, knowing he had very little else to offer.

After a few minutes, the tears stopped.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, stepping back and wiping her face.

“Don’t be. You’re dealing with a lot.” He hesitated. “I really am doing my best to save her.”

“I know.” She swallowed. “I should get back to her.”

“I’ll be by in a few hours. If anything changes, have me paged.”

“I will. Thank you.”

He watched her go, then started down the hallway.

Kalinda needed more surgeries. The problem was he couldn’t do anything until she was stronger. The fever would leave her even more weak.

His time in town was limited. The way things were going, he would be lucky to operate on her twice before he had to go. She was facing dozens more procedures. Which meant someone else would be seeing her through the next few years.

Usually he didn’t mind if other physicians finished what he’d started, but something about Kalinda made the situation different. Maybe it was because she talked about wanting to be a doctor, like him. He could tell that her injury had already had a profound effect on the way she viewed herself and her future.

“Let it go,” he told himself as he checked his messages.

An hour later he was back in his office. There was no Cece to greet him. Montana had left a note saying she was taking the dog to a nursing home that day.

He found himself missing the small crate in the corner and the wildly excited greeting whenever the dog saw him. He’d never been much of a dog person, but Cece was changing his mind.

He buried himself in paperwork, catching up on his charting and scanning a couple of journal articles. Just before lunch, he heard a knock on his door.

“Come in.”

He knew better than to expect Montana, but he was still disappointed when a tall, well dressed woman entered his office.

“Dr. Bradley,” she said with a smile.

“Dr. Duval.”

The hospital administrator was one of those frighteningly efficient women who managed to get her point across with a single lift of her eyebrow.

“How are you enjoying your time here in Fool’s Gold?” she asked, taking the chair across from his.

“Everyone has been very friendly and cooperative.”

“That’s the kind of town we are.” She glanced toward the corner where the dog crate was kept. “I see Cece isn’t with us today.”

“No. Montana wanted to take her to a local nursing home.”

“Interesting young woman, our Montana,” Dr. Duval said. “It took her some time to decide what she wanted to do with her life. Working with the therapy dogs seems to be her calling. She’s done some extraordinary work.”

In his experience, hospital administrators focused on the logistics of running a hospital. There were a thousand details to be managed—personnel, patients, supplies. Usually those in charge were not familiar with things like therapy-dog programs and how well those running the programs were doing in their personal lives. But very little about Fool’s Gold was like any place he’d ever lived before.

“I heard Kalinda is having some trouble,” she continued. “Such a small child to endure such a horrible accident. If the dog helps, I’m grateful you’ve allowed the dog to be here.”

He knew there was more to the conversation. Dr. Duval hadn’t stopped by just to chat. So he leaned back in his chair and waited.

The wait wasn’t long.

“As we discussed when you first came here,” she began, “we’re having a fundraiser in a couple of weeks. I wanted to confirm that you’ll be attending.”

He doubted that confirm was the right word. She was here to make sure he planned on attending, and if he put up a fuss she would find some way to force him. He knew the type. Dr. Duval was the kind of woman who got things done, which made her someone he respected.

He didn’t want to go to the fundraiser. Being the focus of attention in a room with two or three hundred people was his personal idea of hell. But it was one of the costs of doing business.

“I’ll be there.”

She looked both surprised and relieved. “I’m glad to hear that. Having you here is an incredible gift, but you don’t come cheap.”

He smiled. “I’m confident the cost is worth it.”

“It is.” She leaned toward him. “You could have charged us more. Your fee is the least of it.”

“I get more than enough out of what you pay me.”

What he did had made him relatively well-off. He didn’t need to gouge local hospitals for sport. Most of the costs of having him came from the fact that he required the hospital to allow uninsured patients free of charge. If someone needed his help, they got it, regardless of their ability to pay.

This forced the hospitals to raise money both before and after his visit. But it meant children like Kalinda had a chance.

She rose. “I look forward to seeing you at the fundraiser. Will you be bringing anyone?”