Phyllis Halldorson - A Wife For Dr. Sam

Coralie opened her mouth to say something, but Kirsten hurried on. “This is a problem he needs to work out on his own or with a counselor. You know that. We both had lots of psychology classes in college. Enough to know when we can help with a patient’s emotional problems and when we can’t.”

Finally Coralie got a word in edgewise. “As you said, I know all that, and I certainly wouldn’t try to involve him with just any woman, but you’re special and I have this gut feeling that you’re the one who can restore his belief in the female gender and teach him to love again.”

Coralie’s statement pushed the wrong button in Kirsten. “That’s nonsense!” she railed. “And besides, I don’t want to have to ‘teach’ a man to love me. If my future Mr. Right can’t fall in love with me without help, then I don’t need him.”

She realized she sounded strident and lowered her voice. “I don’t want warmed-over love, Coralie. That’s a surefire road to hell. I want a man who will cherish me because he can’t help himself. Who will marry me because he can’t imagine life without me. Not one who thinks of another woman every time he makes love with me.”

Kirsten spent the remainder of the morning on the phone reporting the accident to her insurance company in California, then helping Coralie prepare dinner, which in the rural areas of Idaho was the big meal served at noon. According to Coralie, it always consisted of meat, potatoes, gravy, vegetables, salad, bread and butter and dessert. The night meal was a smaller one called supper, as Kirsten had found out yesterday.

Jim and the hired man, Will Tucker, came in promptly at noon, washed up, ate ravenously and then Will went back to work while Coralie and Jim disappeared upstairs for a little while. Not long enough for any serious lovemaking, but when they came back down they looked flushed and happy.

They obviously adored each other, and Kirsten felt a twinge of envy. Was there a man out there somewhere who would love her as much as Jim loved Coralie? She hoped so, but that kind of devotion was rare and precious.

Not many people were blessed with a soul mate.

By two o’clock Coralie and Kirsten had finished cleaning up the kitchen, and Kirsten was exhausted. She’d gotten up with the rooster at five, and the hours since had been busy and exciting, but tiring. She hadn’t quite realized how thoroughly her energy had been drained by her illness, and even though she’d followed her doctor’s orders and taken it reasonably easy driving from Eureka, the two and a half days on the road had been debilitating.

She excused herself to go back to the cottage and take a nap. Coralie not only agreed, but insisted that she rest until suppertime, which was just fine with Kirsten. She was asleep within minutes after she stretched out on the bed, and didn’t wake up until the phone rang nearly three hours later.

It was almost as jarring as the rooster had been, and she woke with a start. “Hello,” she mumbled fuzzily into the speaker.

“Kirsten?” It was a man’s voice and sounded vaguely familiar. “This is Sam Lawford. Did I wake you?”

Sam? Why on earth would he be calling her? She’d been under the impression that they had said a very unmistakable and permanent goodbye last night.

“What is it you want, Sam?” she snapped, still groggy from sleeping so soundly. “Yes, you did wake me, but that’s all right. If I’d slept any longer, I’d have had trouble sleeping tonight.”

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