Randall Honor

“Thanks.” He turned around and offered his hand to Russ. Her cousin shook it and thanked him for his business. Then he turned and looked at her.

After a moment’s hesitation, he extended his hand to her, too. “Thanks for taking me on.”

She shook his hand reluctantly. But she would be professional. “Of course. Let me know if there are any problems.”

With a nod, he hurried out of the office.

“You were kind of hard on him, weren’t you?” Russ asked.

“Do you know what he assumed when he discovered all we’d done for him?”

Russ shrugged his shoulders, telling her nothing.

“The arrogant man decided it was bribery to get him to marry me. It seems Mom and Doc have been pushing him in that direction!”

“He’s not used to people being nice. He comes from Chicago. You remember, Caroline wrote Aunt B.J. about how cold and unfeeling everyone was.” Russ folded his arms across his chest. “Give him some time, Tori.”

“He can have all the time he wants, as long as he leaves me alone. I’ve worked too hard and long to convince people I’m as competent as you and not just a dumb blonde!”

Russ grinned. “I know. Even I didn’t believe you could convince people, because you used to be so quiet. But you’ve learned to speak up for yourself.”

“Yes, I have. And if that man dares to question my skills in any way, I won’t be doing his accounting for him, no matter what kind of bind he’s in. Do you hear me?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Russ agreed, still grinning. He admired Tori’s fierce determination.

IT WAS FRIDAY, the day she normally stopped by the clinic and collected the patients’ pay sheets. She’d record the amount owed, print out a bill and mail it to the patient with a return envelope. The doctor never had to deal with the business end. It was a system that had worked well for Doc.

After Russ had arrived, she left the office and walked the two blocks to the clinic. Usually Tori enjoyed the walk. It helped remind her that it was Friday, the start of the weekend. And the exercise felt good. Today, she prayed she’d get the information from the receptionist and not have to see the new doctor.

“Hi, Faye,” she sang out to the receptionist. “Do you have all the papers ready?”

“Not quite,” the receptionist said. “Dr. Jon wants to see you first. He has a question.”

“He should’ve had you call the office. It would have saved time.”

“It won’t take long.” As she said that, Faye picked up the phone and called the doctor. “Doctor, Tori Randall is here.”

She hung up the phone and smiled at Tori. “You can go to his office. It’s Doc’s old one. Doc is using that little room down the hall when he’s in.”

“I see.” Without saying anything else, she opened the door to the examining rooms and office and went in. She lifted her chin and straightened her shoulders, determined to give the appearance of a confident, all-business woman.

He was waiting for her at his door. “Come in, Tori. I’m sorry to take up your time but I have a couple of questions.”

“Next time you should have Faye call me. It would save both of us time.”

He let one eyebrow slide up as if he doubted that comment. He invited her to sit down and circled the desk to sit in Doc’s old chair. “Doc said sometimes some patients don’t have insurance and need payment plans. He said you take care of that for him. Do you know the people well enough to do that for me? I’m not sure who can afford to pay and who cannot.”

“If you want me to discount rates or set up payment plans I can. I know most of the patients well enough to make those determinations.”

“Good. That’s what I’d like.”

She stared at him. “Just like that? No calling and asking permission from you?”

“I have to trust you, Tori. Doc says you’re trustworthy.”

“I’ll remember to thank Doc,” she said, her voice cold, recognizing that it was Doc he trusted, not her.

“I also forgot to ask when I get a statement about the money deposited in my account.” When she said nothing, he added, “I don’t want to write a lot of rubber checks.”

“I make deposits on Fridays. They’ll send you a copy of the deposit, probably on Tuesday. You can ask Doc when it comes in.”

“Great. Uh, if—if I discover a patient who can’t pay at all, can I mark NP on it, or just not send the billing to you?”

“I’ll need that information for your tax records, so it would be in your best interest to send the billing. If NP is what you want to use, that works for me.” She paused, then added, “But it will take you longer to pay off any debts you have from medical school if you do that.”

“Thank you, Miss Genius Accountant. Even I can figure that out,” he assured her, a grim smile on his lips.

She gave him an abrupt nod and stood up to leave.

“Tori? I was wrong. I apologize. Can’t you forgive me?” He stood there, tall, handsome, a charming smile on his lips.

Which only made Tori madder. She’d bet he always got everything his way because of that smile. “I’m trying to be professional, Dr. Wilson. Like people in Chicago.”

She heard him sigh as she closed the door behind her. But she had no intention of relenting and smiling in return. That would only confirm his suspicions.

On the walk back to the office, she decided she couldn’t be friends with him until he had at least a girlfriend or, preferably, a wife. So she’d start looking for a good candidate.

When she returned to the office, Russ was coming out of his, grabbing his jacket off the hall tree that stood by the front door.

“Where are you going?” she asked, expecting him to tell her he was meeting a client.

“Something’s wrong. Abby was supposed to go to school today. They were having a meeting to discuss a special project they’re starting for the fall. She didn’t show and she’s not answering the phone.”

Something in Tori’s head sounded an alarm. Abby loved teaching. Besides, she was always on time and always responsible. “I’ll go with you,” she said, putting the papers on the desk.

“She probably overslept. She hasn’t been feeling good lately. I’m sure everything’s okay.”

“Probably, but she might be sick and need some help. I’m coming,” Tori told him, leaving him no choice.

Russ had bought ten acres of land just outside town, so it was only a five-minute ride. They’d built a beautiful house. Abby called it her dream house. Though the family had protested they should live on the ranch, like the rest of them, with both their jobs in town, they’d graciously refused.

As she fastened her seat belt, Tori asked, “Why hasn’t she been feeling well? Has she seen the doctor?”

“Yeah,” Russ said, but he didn’t add any details.

“Well? What’s wrong?”

“I’m not supposed to tell,” he said, but he was grinning.