Tina Radcliffe - Mending the Doctor's Heart

“What’s your name?” Ben asked, while quickly positioning himself behind the barely conscious man.

“Susan.”

The girl’s frantic glances darted back and forth from the man on the floor and then to him again.

“Susan, look at me,” he commanded. “I need you to call 9-1-1. Right now. Okay?”

She nodded and pulled a cell phone from her smock pocket.

Arms around the fallen man’s waist, Ben gave a practiced abdominal thrust. Once. Twice. Three times. The air pressure action caused something to dislodge and shoot from the man’s mouth into the air. A sharp sucking inhalation filled the now-silent room before the man coughed, and then began normal respirations.

“That’s it,” he encouraged. “Just breathe. I’ve got you.”

A collective sound of relief fluttered through the small crowd.

Ben’s own breathing slowed now that the crisis was over. For a moment he simply rested on his haunches, stunned with the realization that he’d just responded to an emergency like his old self. There’d been zero time for second thoughts, self-doubting or the crippling panic attacks.

He swallowed hard and took a deep breath.

Thank You, Lord. Thank You.

Easing the elderly man away from him, Ben began a quick inspection of his head, parting the gray hairs where blood oozed from a scalp wound.

“I’ve got gauze for that laceration.”

Ben turned, his gaze slamming into the clear green eyes of a petite dark-haired woman, about his age. She reached a latex-gloved hand forward and applied pressure to the victim’s head.

“Thanks,” Ben murmured, grateful for the assist.

After a minute, the woman lifted the corner of the now blood-saturated gauze.

He peered at the site. “Not too bad.”

“Nothing a couple sutures won’t fix,” she said.

Surprised, Ben glanced over his shoulder and gave a nod of agreement at her words. Her confident demeanor said she obviously had a medical background.

Before he could consider that further, the siren of an emergency vehicle echoed. The sound became louder and louder until two paramedics burst through the door of the shop.

As they strode toward him, Ben carefully rose to transfer the care of the victim for a complete evaluation.

“Choking incident. Resolved with Heimlich.” Ben addressed the uniformed medics. “Minor scalp laceration, approximately one-eighth centimeter, secondary to head trauma.”

He turned away, relieved that everyone’s attention was on the victim, which allowed him to slip to the front door.

As he turned away, the elderly woman who’d been with the fallen man grabbed Ben’s arm.

“Thank you, son,” she said. “You saved my husband’s life.” Her soft eyes overflowed with emotion as they met his.

“You’re welcome, ma’am.”

Head bowed, Ben collected himself. He’d doubted himself for so long; the simple thank you touched a place inside that desperately needed affirmation. Maybe God could still use him.

When he looked up, his eyes met the familiar gaze of the woman who’d assisted him. She pulled hand sanitizer from a first-aid kit that now sat on the café table and squeezed some liquid into her palm before handing the bottle to him.

“Here you go, Doc.”

“Thanks. How’d you know I’m a doctor?”

“Would you believe it takes one to know one?” Amusement skittered across her face.

“Really?” Ben smiled. As he cleaned his hands, he noted with interest her red-plaid Western shirt, well-worn and snug jeans and scuffed cowboy boots. A doctor, huh?

“I’m Sara Elliott. Dr. Sara Elliott.”

“Ben Rogers. Nice to meet you.”

He couldn’t resist a further assessment, from the sprinkling of light freckles that dusted her small nose to the teasing smile that touched her lips and reached her eyes. There was something about the pint-sized beauty that sharpened his senses.

“Nice job with Orvis.”

“Orvis?”

“Orvis Carter. His daughter-in-law owns this café.”

Ben nodded as he digested the information. When his gaze met Sara’s and held for a long moment, he was surprised at the connection between them. Or had he imagined it?

Flustered, Sara Elliott pushed a thick, dark braid over her shoulder and shoved a few loose tendrils of hair back from her face. No, she seemed as taken off guard as he was.

The slight tilting of her head revealed a long, thin scar running from her temple to her ear, parallel with her hairline. It was obvious from the silvery shade and flattened texture that it was years old.

Curious.

Ben looked away, then slid his phone from his pocket, grimacing when he saw the time. “I hate to Heimlich and run, but I’ve got to be somewhere.”

He pushed open the door of the shop and moved the conversation past the still-lingering crowd and the paramedics who were finishing up, out to the sidewalk.

“No problem.” She followed him outside. “I’m sure we’ll meet again. Paradise is a small town.”

“Do you live here?”

“I grew up in Paradise.” She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and leaned closer, her voice conspiratorial. “But the truth is, I’m here about a job.”

“Oh?” Ben froze, his mind calculating. How many medical positions could there be in a community this size? He’d done his homework. Paradise Hospital itself only had four physicians on staff, and there were a handful of family-practice physicians scattered throughout the valley.

Though he didn’t want to ask, he had to. “What position, if you don’t mind my asking?”

“Clinical Director of the Community Outreach Clinic.”

This time his brows shot up. If Sara took the response as confusion, she was right.

Almost.

“It’s a new program,” she explained. “They’re trying to reach the outlying, underserved rural population and seasonal workers and their families.” Excitement lit her eyes as she spoke. “There’s also a plan for a clinic team to assist during severe weather emergencies that can hit the valley and the foothills.”

Ben nodded. Oh, he was well versed in the goals, the budget and the vision for the new clinic, all right. Yeah, Sara’s enthusiasm was well placed. The entire project stirred a professional anticipation and energy he hadn’t felt in a very long time.

“I’ve been waiting years for this clinic to become a reality,” she said.

The earnestness in her voice brought his own doubts tumbling out. Hadn’t the Lord led him to Paradise and this job?

Ben met her gaze head-on. “Um, Sara. There’s something you ought to know.”

She cocked her head in question. “What’s that?”

“I’m in Paradise interviewing for the same position.”

* * *

Sara opened her mouth then closed it. Not really?

She looked at Ben. His chocolate-brown eyes were unwavering, and the expression on his face said he was very serious.

That didn’t make sense. The director position had been all but given to her.

She glanced at the tall, lean man in front of her again, scrutinizing his reserved expression, doing her best to ignore his appeal in the expensive black polo shirt and crisp tan chinos.

“Awkward,” Ben murmured. He ran a hand through his well-kept dark hair and shook his head.

“I’ll say.” His discomfort only matched her own. “So, you’re meeting with the medical director today?” she asked.

“A Dr. Rhoades? Yeah.” Once again he glanced at his phone. “I’ve really got to get going. Been on the road for hours. I need a quick shower and change of clothes.”

“Where are you staying?”

“I’ve rented a place.”

Sara blinked. “Already?”

He shrugged. “Obviously there was some miscommunication.”

“You’ve quit your job, as well?”