The Hero

He frowned at her and she could read his mind. He was a single father; he would have opinions about a woman stealing away his child. He wouldn’t understand, wouldn’t be able to give her the benefit of the doubt. Nice as he seemed, she didn’t know Spencer well enough to trust him with the truth.

“All right,” Sarah announced, coming suddenly from within the bar. “I’m ready. Are you?”

“You bet,” Devon said, standing. “Let me wave to Mercy.”

“I can help with that,” Sarah said. She let go a piercing whistle and everyone on the beach, including Rawley and Mercy, turned toward the deck. They all waved at each other.

“That was awesome,” Devon said.

“Thanks. Cooper taught me.”

Four

When Sarah was slowly making her way up the road to Highway 101 with Devon in the passenger seat, she asked, “Does this outing make you nervous?”

“Oh, yes,” she confessed.

“Just take it slow—it’s not a job interview. I mean, if you hear of something promising, don’t hesitate, but probably the most important thing is just getting a feel for the Thunder Point people. They’re very nice. Sometimes nosy, but good, honest people.”

“I’ll try,” Devon said.

“Of course. Listen, I was divorced after one miserable year of marriage so I’m well aware of how hard it can be. In fact, I moved here a little over a year ago, before my divorce was even final. Getting your confidence back after something like that—it’s not easy.”

“Landon’s not your son?”

“No,” she said with a laugh. “My younger brother. It’s been the two of us since he was six. Ten years of being a big sister slash single mother.”

“Wow. You did it on your own?”

“Our parents were killed in an accident—there weren’t any choices about it. And it worked out—more due to him than to my parenting skills, I’m sure. He’s a great kid.”

“And now? You’re engaged....”

That caused Sarah to glance at the ring. “I wasn’t divorced long when I met Cooper. I wasn’t going to get involved with a guy, especially one like Cooper, but he’s relentless. Thank God.”

“A guy like Cooper?” she couldn’t help but ask.

Sarah laughed. “One look at him and I took him for a player.”

“Player?” Devon asked.

“Doesn’t he, though? Look like the kind of guy who could give women a real run? But he’s not—he’s so committed, it’s almost shocking. I was the one on the run—he had trouble catching me. But I am now very, very caught. If you had told me two years ago I could be this happy, I’d say you were crazy. Out of every storm...”

Devon just listened, thinking players don’t always look the way they’re supposed to look. That sexy guy in the torn jeans and T-shirt who showed off his broad chest and muscled arms and shoulders is ready to settle down, but the one she fell for—so morally superior and always quoting scriptures—proved to be a bad choice.

“People don’t always look like who they really are.”

Sarah pulled off the highway and headed for town. “You don’t have to tell me, sister. I caught my husband banging the maid of honor. A stunning moment in my romantic history. So, this doctor’s office, this open house, it’s a small space. I’ll be close by, even if the gathering spills out onto the front sidewalk. If you do lose sight of me, I’ll be waiting at the diner across the street. All you have to do is say hello, visit a little and then let me know when you’ve had enough. And you don’t have to explain anything, even if you’re asked. You’re visiting your distant cousin because he offered, things are fine, you’re just looking around the area, you know...”

“I know,” she said, but in fact she was very grateful for this reminder. She didn’t have to answer those difficult questions—the kind Spencer asked.

Sarah parked across the street from the new Family Practice. There were some streamers and balloons and the front door was propped open. And yes, the office was small. It looked like a storefront in a row of storefronts, sitting right between the sheriff’s department and Carrie’s Deli.

The first person Devon met was Scott Grant, the new doctor, who was greeting people at the door. And the inside of his new practice was smaller than small. She counted room for ten chairs and a coffee table right inside the door, a counter with a swinging half door leading to the back. On the other side of the counter was one desk, some shelves, a desktop computer and a room divider that opened on the right side for people to pass into the back where there must be exam rooms. Though it was crowded, there was room for a small table covered by a festive tablecloth on which sat the snacks and punch bowl. This office space could easily be used for a dress shop, a greeting cards and notions store or a travel agency.

The next people she met were Carrie, her daughter, Gina, and granddaughter, Ashley. Ashley was filling cups with punch while Gina was putting out trays of bite-size sandwiches and cookies. Devon saw Carrie pull a cooler out from under the table and withdraw a storage container filled with a variety of hors d’oeuvres, which were then placed into a cute arrangement on a large tray.

There was a little polite small talk. She met Gina’s boss, Stu, who owned the diner; Gina’s husband, Mac, the town deputy; and a couple of neighboring business owners. Having noticed a few people wandering around in the back of the clinic area, Devon couldn’t resist. It was, after all, an open house. She walked behind the room divider and what she found was a series of cubicles and she knew what they were for. There was a treatment room with a bed, counter, sink, chair, supplies. Then another exam room. She found what must be the doctor’s office—there was a desk and shelves laden with books, and the door actually closed for privacy. There was what could pass for a very small break room containing a little table and two chairs, refrigerator, microwave, cupboards and sink.

Then she heard Sarah’s voice asking the doctor when he would be open for business. “Monday. I’m planning on being open Monday, Wednesday, Friday and Saturday—but I’ll come in if someone needs me. I’m keeping some E.R. hours in Bandon,” he said, then laughed. “I’m working in Bandon to afford this practice. I still have some equipment on the way—most of it is small and portable for now. I doubt I’ll ever have an X-ray but I have a small lab and can do simple tests here. It’s a very compact little setup. And I’m planning to run some specials.”

“Oh?” Sarah asked him.

“Cut-rate school and sports physicals and, in the fall, ten-dollar flu shots.” Devon smiled as she noticed his chest puff up a little.

It was sweet, she thought. Handsome young doctor, brand-new practice, good ideas for bringing in new patients.

“Who’s helping you?” Sarah asked.

“I’m doing everything myself, so far. I need an R.N. or, even better, a physician’s assistant, but no one really wants to work for a part-time practice, and I’m afraid it’ll be a while before I can give up the Bandon E.R. to keep this place open six days a week. I can cover for a good nurse, but the paperwork is going to kill me. What I really need is a top-notch office manager, one who can triage patient needs and keep the forms moving whether I’m here or not.”

“Well, I’m going to be out of work by the end of the summer, but I have no idea what a person does in a doctor’s office,” Sarah responded.

But I do, Devon thought. It had been a long time, but she’d been a clerical worker in a small neighborhood doctor’s office. She knew how to keep charts organized and up-to-date, file insurance claims, schedule appointments, all that sort of thing. She wondered if she’d find the courage to put herself out there. And just as she was considering this, she was snagged by a woman.

“So, you’re the new girl. From Seattle, I hear.”

Devon looked around a little nervously and the woman laughed.

“Believe me, there’s only one new girl that I know of,” she said. “How do you like the town?”

“I’ve hardly seen it,” Devon said.

“I’m Lou McCain. That’s my nephew, the big guy who won’t leave Gina alone. Come with me, I want to know all about you.”

The woman turned, clearly expecting to be followed, and Devon did so. She wasn’t about to argue.

Lou sat down on one of the chairs in the small waiting room and patted the chair beside her. Devon took the chair obediently, hoping this woman didn’t ask difficult questions because she would be impossible to refuse.

“Your name?”

“Oh,” she said, and laughed self-consciously. “Devon. How do you do.”

“Splendid, thank you. Now, tell me all about yourself. Where are you from? What brought you to Thunder Point? How long will you stay? What do you do?” Then she laughed. “I’m sorry—I’m used to dealing with middle-school kids and my nephew’s kids, who I help raise. I’m an eighth grade English teacher. It’s made me very direct. Kids that age live by the ‘literal minimal’ law—if you give them a question they can answer with one word, they will.”

So will I, Devon thought.

“I grew up in Seattle. I’ve been kind of a...well, I was in a relationship, but I wasn’t married. I was...ah...you know.”