Ruth Langan - Cover-Up

Even if Prentice hadn’t turned a fortune, the townspeople would have admired him for his tireless care of his severely handicapped brother. Will Osborn, with his garbled speech and unsteady gait, was treated gently by all the citizens of Devil’s Cove. He was routinely handed his favorite sugar cookies at the bakery. Whenever he visited the diner he was given a grilled cheese sandwich and a chocolate malt, free of charge.

To thank them, Prentice was more than generous to the town that sheltered his brother. He gave freely of his time and money to various charities around town. A new wing at the University Hospital now bore the names of his deceased parents.

Emily smiled at the two men. “Hello, Prentice. Will. What brings you here?”

Prentice Osborn, tall, with sun-streaked golden hair, took charge. “Will’s been tugging on his ear. I think it’s another infection.”

Emily turned to the older brother, who was watching her with the wary eyes of a frightened child, so at odds with his almost graying hair and stooped shoulders. “Have you been swimming in the mill pond again, Will?”

The man shrugged and stared hard at the floor.

“It’s okay, Will.” Prentice spoke to his brother the way one would speak to a child. “You can tell Dr. Brennan the truth. Have you been swimming in the mill pond?”

His brother nodded shyly.

“Well, let’s have a look.”

Before Emily could step closer Will hunched his shoulders and cringed.

Prentice sent her a pleading look. “Will was poked and prodded by too many doctors when he was young. Do you think you could give him a sedative to take the edge off his nerves?”

Emily nodded her understanding and reached for a syringe. “This won’t hurt, Will.” She moved so quickly he didn’t even have time to react. To his brother she said, “Dilaudid. Just two milligrams. Enough to quiet him, but not so much he’ll have any reaction. Now, Will.” She indicated the examining table and the shy man sat on the edge and watched as she sorted through her instruments. When she bent close he breathed her in and, relaxed now and enjoying the faint scent of her perfume, grinned like an errant schoolboy.

It took only a moment’s examination to see the evidence. “I’ll bet this has been giving you some pain, Will.”

He nodded.

“It’ll be much improved by tomorrow.” She used a dropper to dispense liquid into the ear, then wrote on a notepad and tore it off, handing it to his brother. “He’ll need to take this antibiotic for a full ten days. I’ll want to see him then, to make certain the infection is completely cleared up.”

Prentice put an arm around his brother’s shoulders. “Come on, Will. Let’s go home and take Dr. Brennan’s medicine. Before you know it you’ll be feeling as good as new.” He helped his brother from the table. As he followed Will from the room he turned. “Would you like me to pick you up for tonight’s cocktail party, Emily?”

She shook her head. “Thanks, Prentice. But I’ll be heading up there early to see to some of the last-minute details.”

“Then I’ll see you there.”

When he and Will were gone, Emily looked up as Melissa poked her head in the examining room. “You’ve had three calls in the last hour from the tribute committee. They’re waiting for you at the Harbor House. They want you to check out the ballroom for tonight’s kickoff party.”

Emily sighed. “Why did I ever agree to chair this tribute to my grandmother?”

“Because you love her. We all do. And because nobody else in town was willing to see to all the little details the way you do.”

“Yeah.” Emily laughed. “Like they say, the devil is in the details.” She began unbuttoning her white lab coat. “I’ll run over to the Harbor House and see what they’ve done. But I have no intention of getting roped into making any changes in the decorations at this late date.”

“Right.” Melissa nodded her head. “And I believe that as much as I believe Cody Fletcher is going to skip baseball practice until his stitches come out.”

“Am I that transparent?” Emily sighed. “Don’t answer that, Mel.” She unlocked the door that separated the clinic from the main house. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

She pulled the door shut before making her way up the back staircase to the second floor. In her old bedroom she stopped to scratch behind the ears of a white kitten stretched out on her bed.

“You’re shedding, Angel. That’s why you’ve been banished from the clinic. Mel said she’s sick and tired of sweeping up after you. Besides, there are actually a few patients who are allergic to all that dander.”

The cat yawned and licked a paw with a bored expression.

Grinning, Emily stripped off the simple skirt and blouse she’d worn under her lab coat and slipped into a pair of faded jeans and a T-shirt. It was best to be prepared, she thought with a quick glance in the mirror, in case the committee needed her help with last-minute decorations. She might talk a good game to Melissa, but she knew she’d end up pitching in with the work.

“I’ll leave the door open,” she called to the cat. “Maybe you’ll take the hint and shed somewhere else.”

Once in the car Emily opened the window and let the breeze take the ends of her hair as she mulled the path her life had taken. It was hard to believe she’d been back in Devil’s Cove for six months now, first to take care of her father, and then to take over his practice. The days and weeks had a way of blurring together here. At University Hospital there had been staff meetings, luncheons, daily tours of patients’ rooms and in-depth discussions of various treatments. Not to mention late-night dinners with David where, more often than not, they ended up debating articles they’d read in medical journals, or the latest controversial drugs being tested by a colleague.

David was Dr. David Turnley, a specialist in pediatric surgery who had hoped to persuade Emily to be his partner, not only in his professional life but in his personal life as well. It caught her by surprise to admit that there’d been no time to miss him since she’d returned home.

Here the care was much more personal in nature. She wasn’t just part of a team. She was a hands-on small-town doctor who was expected to stitch wounds, deliver babies, treat infections and dispense advice on everything from obesity to high blood pressure to clinical depression.

It felt good, she realized as she eased her car to the curb. For however long she stayed, it felt good to be back.

She turned off the ignition and studied the sprawling old inn that had graced the town of Devil’s Cove for more than eighty years. Painted white, with a gleaming black roof and black shutters, it was both stylish and graceful. A wide pillared porch along the front was dotted with white wicker furniture and pots of colorful flowers and trailing ivy. On one side was a lovely formal garden that sported curving stone walkways leading to a gazebo in the middle, which was often used for wedding receptions.

Emily made her way up the steps and inside the foyer, where Beth Collins, a college student home for the summer, was busy taking a phone reservation. She waved as Emily passed, then returned her attention to the guest register.

When Emily reached the ballroom she could hear the squeals of laughter even before she opened the double doors. She stepped inside to see half a dozen women huddled together while one harried-looking woman in bright pink sneakers stood in the middle of the room holding tightly to at least a hundred streamers attached to balloons.

“If someone doesn’t help me soon,” Marge Dawson pleaded, “I swear I’ll float all the way to the ceiling.”

“So will I,” another woman shouted. “And I won’t even need a balloon.”