Roxanne Rustand - A Man She Can Trust

And looked down into the lovely face of the woman who’d helped destroy his life.

JILL LINGERED IN the exam room after her last patient of the day left, dictated her progress note into a recorder then popped out the microcassette and strolled to the front office.

Donna Iverson, her office nurse, looked up from a file drawer and grinned. “For once, you’re actually done on time. Amazing.”

“It is—especially in the middle of flu season.” She put the cassette into an envelope and dropped it into a drawer of the receptionist’s desk. “After rounds at the hospital, I’m going home for a long, hot bath and a good book.”

Middle-aged and motherly, Donna frowned and shook a finger at her. “You need to get out more. Have some fun. What about that nice assistant manager down at the bank? I swear, if that man isn’t interested in you, I’ll eat my stethoscope.”

The man was a pleasant, earnest sort of guy. He’d certainly be Mr. Dependability…and just the thought made Jill stifle a yawn. “I’m not even divorced yet and, frankly, I can’t even imagine dating again. But what about you?”

Donna gave a flustered wave of her hand after she pushed the file drawer shut. “It’s not so easy, getting back into the swing of things at my age. My brother Bob and his family are here in town, though. Grandkids. Plenty to keep me busy. But you…”

“I’ve finally got a practice of my own. The house of my dreams. A very devoted cat.”

“You’ve got one very weird cat, and a very big house to ramble around in. You know, my bachelor cousin Irwin lives down in Minocqua, and—”

Laughing, Jill held up a hand. “Stop. I’m sure he’s a great guy, but I really don’t want to meet anyone. Ask me again in about five years.”

Loyal to a fault, the nurse had stood staunchly by Jill during the difficult last months of her marriage, and she still spoke Grant’s name with a sniff of distaste.

“Well…just keep Irwin in mind. He’s great with kids. Has a good job in real estate. And,” she added triumphantly, “he’s never been married, so you wouldn’t be taking on all that extra baggage.”

I’d just have all of my own. Jill nodded politely as she shouldered into her red wool pea coat and wrapped a long black scarf around her neck. “You should get going. All of this will be waiting for you tomorrow.”

“Just another few minutes.” Donna’s expression grew somber. “Say hello to Patsy, won’t you? Tell her I’ll stop in tonight with some new magazines.”

“She’ll be happy to hear that.” Jill pulled on her gloves, wishing she could offer more hope for Donna’s neighbor. “She may not be very talkative, though. We had to increase her morphine last night.”

Patsy Halliday had been the picture of good health just three months ago at her annual physical, but last month she’d come in with severe headaches. An MRI revealed a fast-growing tumor that the surgeons couldn’t completely remove, and soon her three young children would lose their mother.

Life was so terribly unfair.

Jill slung the strap of her purse over her shoulder and went out the back door of the clinic, lost in thought. She barely felt the cold as she started her car and waited for the defroster to melt away the haze on her windshield.

Cases like this one kept her awake at nights; made her rethink every decision a dozen times, and made her pray for miracles when everything on the MRI report and labs told her there was little hope.

Cases like this made her want to live every day to the fullest, because they illustrated with cruel finality just how little control you had over the future.

Yet now she was going home to an empty, cavernous house, with only a demented cat and the whispers of old ghosts to keep her company.

“Quite an exciting life you lead,” she muttered to herself as she pulled out of the back parking lot, waited for several cars to pass, then turned north on Main.

The deep tire ruts in the snow grabbed at her tires as she drove slowly enough to keep ample distance between her and the car ahead.

The single stoplight in town turned yellow at her approach and, despite her best intentions, she glanced at the Edwards Law Office on the opposite corner.

She drew in a sharp breath.

Dressed in khaki slacks, a blazer and a shirt open at the throat, Grant was at the open door, talking to a woman who stood with her back to the street.

The woman rested her hand on his forearm for a moment, then stood on her toes to kiss his cheek. She turned and hurried down the steps to an all-too-familiar red, vintage Cobra parked in front.

At the car, she turned back and waved at him, her long, too-bright auburn hair whipping in the wind.

Jill’s heart gave an extra, hard thud. Natalie.

The old hurt welled up inside her and she sat frozen through the green light until the car behind her honked.

She hadn’t wanted to believe the rumors last fall. Even now, perhaps this wasn’t what it seemed. But Natalie’s advances a moment ago certainly hadn’t been rebuffed.

Since Grant had come back to town, he and Jill had carefully tried to avoid each other, but small towns didn’t allow for a lot of space. Seeing him again had made her feel a little…wistful. Made her start reviewing the past. Made her second-guess all that had gone wrong.

But those regrets were a waste of time.

Grant could do whatever he liked, with whomever he liked, and it didn’t matter one bit. He was a free man.

And seeing the woman who’d destroyed the last hope for their marriage drove that fact home with blinding clarity.

JILL PAUSED AT the door of Patsy’s hospital room to study the rainbow of crayon drawings taped to the wall, the untidy bouquet of flowers on the bedside table.

Zoe’s work, Jill thought sadly. The four-year-old loved to handle the flower arrangements delivered to the room, beaming as she plucked one bloom after another and presented them to her mother.

What was it like, seeing your mommy lying so still in this hospital bed, with the steady snick of an IV pump marking off the seconds?

Patsy’s head turned on the pillow, her weary eyes lighting with recognition. Her hand dropped to the white cotton blanket, and a small tape recorder fell from her grasp.

Jill caught it just before it hit the floor.

“Thanks,” Patsy whispered. “I’m…trying. So hard. I need…time.”

The effort to speak clearly exhausted her, and Jill felt renewed anger at the doctor who’d originally misdiagnosed this poor woman. The HMO system that had refused to cover the tests that might have caught her cancer earlier. And especially, at the callous husband who’d walked out on her right after her diagnosis.

No one deserved to die young.

And no one deserved life more than this young mother of three who, until recently, had operated a day-care program in town and had selflessly reached out to others in need.

Jill fingered the stack of audio cassettes on the bedside table. “Your children will treasure these.”

Patsy’s gaze veered to the tapes, then back to Jill. “The kids will have my memories…of them when they were small. I want them to know…how much I love them. That I’ll love them forever.”

“They’ll never have any doubt.”

“Zoe won’t even remember me, really.” Patsy winced and fell silent for a moment. “She’s so young.”

“But she’ll have these tapes, with your voice. She’ll have photos. Do you have home movies?”

“Some.” A faint smile flickered at the corners of her mouth. “I’m always on the other side of the camera, though.”

“How about getting some film of you and the kids here—maybe down in the lounge? You could be reading to Zoe, or telling some old stories from when you were young. I’ll bet we can get one of the nurses to run the camera.”