Shoulda Been a Cowboy (Rough Riders #7)(82)

Dave extended a hand and Domini slowly rose to her feet.


“See? I’m fine.”


He just shook his head. “No. You’re stubborn.”


At the doctor’s office, Domini convinced Neva to return to Dewey’s to help with the lunch rush. But Neva walked her into the clinic, making sure Domini didn’t skip out on her appointment.


She filled out the medical forms, intentionally leaving some sections blank. Although medical records were supposed to be confidential, in a town the size of Sundance, Domini wasn’t taking chances.


A young nurse called out, “Domini McKay?”


Domini followed the nurse back through the maze of exam rooms and ran straight into…Keely. She couldn’t go anywhere in this town without running into a member of Cam’s family.


Keely’s blue eyes narrowed. “You look like a ghost. What’s wrong with you?”


“What are you doing here?”


“Doc Monroe and I are working on a project together and I’m wrapping a few things up. Where’s Cam?”


“At work. What project?”


“Nice try, sis, with the bait and switch, but you didn’t answer my question. What’s wrong with you?”


“Maybe she didn’t answer because that’s none of your business,” the nurse retorted. “This way, Mrs. McKay.” She led her into an exam room in the farthest corner and shut the door in Keely’s face. The nurse gave her a tight smile. “I’ll get rid of her, don’t worry.”


“Thank you.”


The nurse weighed her, took her blood pressure and her temperature. Then she drew a vial of blood. She gestured to the gown on the exam table. “You’ll need to get undressed completely. Put the gown on with the opening in the front. The doctor will be in shortly.”


Domini perched on the exam table. Before too long her eyes began to droop and she laid back. The last thing she remembered was the crinkly sound of the paper beneath her bare butt as she tried to get comfortable.


Two sharp raps on the door startled her awake.


Doctor Monroe strode in and smiled. “I’d ask how you are, but the fact you’re here is pretty much my answer.” She sat on the rolling stool and flipped through the papers on the clipboard. “Why don’t you tell me what’s going on?”



“It’s silly I’m here at all. I passed out in the kitchen at Dewey’s, my coworkers panicked and offered me the choice of the emergency room or you, so here I am.”


“Mmm-hmm.” The doctor didn’t look up. “Your medical history seems to have quite a few gaps.”


“I’m not sure about some of it.”


“Because…?”


“I was orphaned at age eleven and they didn’t have my full medical history. Then my medical records were lost in the immigration paperwork.”


“Mmm-hmm. Understandable.” Doctor Monroe shut the folder. “But complete and total b.s. So why don’t you tell me the truth if you expect me to help you?”


Startled, Domini stared at her.


“First thing, strictly off the record, I assure you I’ve never had designs on Cam McKay, which you might’ve mistakenly believed. Cam is a patient. I don’t date my patients. Period.


“Secondly, I take my patient’s confidentiality very seriously. No one works for me I don’t trust. Access to medical records is strictly monitored. No one on my staff will blab any part of your medical history to anyone. I guarantee it. So whatever you tell me, will be held in the utmost confidence.”


“You won’t tell my husband?”


“Not without your consent.” Doctor Monroe stood and pulled out the table extension. “Lie back. Let’s see if we can’t figure out what’s going on with you.”


Good thing she already had her blood pressure taken, because right now it was through the roof. Domini closed her eyes and flinched when the doc’s cold hands started poking her abdomen. She knew the exact moment the doctor figured it out.


“Do you have a uterus?” She poked the area above Domini’s hipbones.


“No.”


“You still have ovaries.” She traced the scar above her pubic bone. “Surgical rather than vaginal removal?”


“Yes.”


“Please sit up.”


Domini gathered the edges of her gown together. She heard the doctor return to her chair. Heard the squeak as the chair rolled toward the desk. Heard her flipping through the scant paperwork looking for answers.


Doctor Monroe’s pale red eyebrows were drawn together. Her teeth were digging into her lower lip. She seemed…agitated. “I don’t have to ask if you’re having problems with your menstrual cycle.” She looked up. Her eyes were compassionate, yet held resolve. “Will you please explain to me why a perfectly healthy thirty-year-old woman has had a hysterectomy?”


“It wasn’t by choice.”


“Excuse me?”


She might as well tell the whole sordid story. “I’m not sure about all the technical medical terms, but I started having issues with my menstrual cycle when I was fifteen. I had no one to talk to. My caregivers at the orphanage didn’t care, so I suffered through it. Halfway through my sixteenth year, I could feel these…lumps in my abdomen. The pain was excruciating. Whenever I brought it up, I was told it was part of being a woman. Until one day I passed out from the pain. Someone called an ambulance and I ended up in the hospital. I was in and out of a drug-induced haze when the doctors did tests. I remembered thinking maybe my appendix had burst.”