Phyllis Halldorson - A Wife For Dr. Sam

For some reason it was important to him that she not always remember him as an insensitive clod.

By eight o’clock breakfast had been served at the Buckley farm, and Jim and the hired man who was replacing Buck while he was gone had left to do whatever it was they did in the fields. Amber and Gloria were still asleep, and Coralie and Kirsten were taking a breather and having a second cup of coffee at the table in the kitchen.

Kirsten wanted to talk to Coralie about Sam, but she hoped to lead up to it gradually, instead of tackling the thorny subject head-on. The problem was she couldn’t think of a way to do that, so she just asked the first question that came to mind. “What time do your stepdaughters wake up?”

Coralie chuckled. “During the school year they have to get up when Jim and I do, so we negotiated a compromise for the summer vacation. I’ve assigned each of them chores around the house that must be completed every day, but as long as they keep up with them I let them sleep as late as they want to in the mornings. So far it’s working out beautifully.”

Kirsten was surprised. “How did you get so knowledgeable about handling teenagers? As I remember from your letters, they were pretty undisciplined when you first came here.”

Coralie shuddered. “That’s an understatement, but I just think back to when I was their age and remember how I felt. Besides, they’re at a time in life when their bodies are growing and changing so fast that they need a lot of sleep.

“Jim’s daughters are very bright and mature. They’re always open to suggestions, it’s only orders they resist. But, hey, we’ve got much more exciting things to talk about than adolescent discipline.” Her eyes twinkled, and a happy smile lit her face. “I’m dying to know how you liked Sam. Did you let him kiss you good-night when he took you home?”

Kirsten sighed and took a big swallow of her coffee. She’d known Coralie would be hoping to hear that Kirsten and Sam had fallen in love at first sight, and preferably that they’d already started making wedding plans.

She hated to dash Coralie’s dream of negotiating a match made in heaven. Actually, now that there was no longer even the remotest possibility of such a thing happening, Kirsten realized that deep down she’d been more open to the idea than she’d been willing to admit, even to herself. It could have been great to live in a small country village as the wife of the town’s handsome doctor.

But not this town’s doctor! No way! Obviously Coralie didn’t know that Jim’s friend was a self-centered egotist who assumed that every woman he dated was panting to get him into bed.

Just thinking about it started her adrenaline pumping and gave her the energy to tackle the sensitive subject. “Coralie, we need to talk,” she said carefully.

“I know. So talk,” Coralie answered eagerly. “What did you think of him? Isn’t he a hunk?”

“Oh, he’s a hunk, all right,” Kirsten agreed.

“Did he ask you to go out with him?” Coralie obviously hadn’t caught the sarcasm in Kirsten’s tone.

“No, he didn’t, and if he had I’d have said no,” she answered starkly. Apparently there was no polite way she could make Coralie understand that her matchmaking was unwelcome, and Kirsten was through pussyfooting around.

Coralie’s eyes widened. “But why? Are you two still upset over that accident? Surely you can put that behind you—”

“No, it’s not that,” Kirsten interrupted. “I’m sorry but I just don’t like the man and he doesn’t like me, either.”

Coralie looked stunned. “But I don’t understand. You’re both such nice people. How could you not like each other? What happened—”

Kirsten watched as her friend stopped in midsentence and her expression turned from puzzlement to shock. “Kirsten, he didn’t try to—”

“No!” Oh Lord, this conversation was getting totally out of hand. She couldn’t let Coralie think Sam had gotten rough or physical with her. “No, Coralie, he didn’t try anything. He never laid a hand on me. Actually, sex is the last thing he’d want of me. I don’t turn him on, that’s for sure.”

Coralie shook her head in disbelief, but Kirsten hurried on. “We did quarrel, but it was strictly verbal. Like I told you, we’re just not compatible, and I’m afraid I have to insist that you forget about the matchmaking. Not only with Sam but with any man. I came here to visit you and your new family, not to find a husband. Please, honor my wishes.”

“Well, of…of course I will if that’s what you want.” Coralie sounded dazed. “I’m so sorry—” Her sentence was cut short by the sound of feet clopping down the stairs just before Amber bounded into the room.

“Good morning,” she said cheerfully. “Any chance of getting some breakfast?”

Coralie shut her mouth but seemed unable to shift her mind’s gears onto a different subject, so Kirsten managed a big smile and answered for her. “You bet. The scrambled eggs and bacon are still warm on the back of the stove, and Coralie made the most mouth-watering banana muffins.”

She pushed back her chair and stood up. “Sit down and I’ll fix you a plate.”

Amber waved her away and giggled. “Thanks, but we have rules around here. Anyone who’s not at the table when meals are served has to wait on themselves.”

Kirsten held up her hands in mock surrender. “Sorry. I wouldn’t dream of breaking any of the rules, so if you’ll all excuse me I’ll go back to my quarters and finish settling in.”

She started walking toward the back door, when Coralie’s voice stopped her. “Kirsten, I’ll be finished up here in about an hour and then I’ll come over. I want to talk to you. We have a lot to catch up on.”

Kirsten got the message. “Great. Bring a couple of those muffins and I’ll put the teakettle on.”

It was nearly ten o’clock when Coralie tapped on the door to Buck’s little house. Kirsten had spent the intervening time pacing the floor, berating herself for being so out-spoken about her dislike for Sam and wondering if she’d done irreparable harm to her treasured friendship with Coralie.

She hurried to open the door and admit her friend. “You don’t have to knock,” she said. “After all, this is your house.”

Coralie stepped inside. “It may be owned by the family corporation,” she acknowledged, “but it’s the home of whomever happens to be in residence at the time, and right now that’s you. I wouldn’t violate your privacy by just walking in.”

Kirsten uttered a wry, little laugh. “Believe me, my life’s an open book—or door as the case may be. Shall we sit over here on the sofa?”

They walked across the living room and sat down on the brown velour couch. There was also a rust-colored lounge chair and a deep leather easy chair, as well as a console television set and assorted small tables. A brick fireplace dominated the side wall, and a picture window took up most of the front one.

Coralie crossed one jeans-clad leg over the other and tried to appear relaxed, but the nervous twisting of her hands gave away her unease. Kirsten, also wearing jeans, had taken off her shoes and tucked her feet beneath her.

Coralie was the first to speak. “I…I’ve been thinking about our earlier conversation, and I’m so sorry if my good intentions seemed more like meddling—”

“No, Coralie, please,” Kirsten interrupted. “It wasn’t like that at all. It’s just that neither Sam nor I are ready for a long-term relationship with anybody. Even if we were, it wouldn’t be with each other. The chemistry’s just not right between us.”

Coralie looked thoughtful. “It’s not just you. It would have been that way with any woman I tried to fix Sam up with. I should have known better than to interfere in his hermitlike existence.”