LITMIR.BIZ

      MAUDE PUSHED OPEN the treatment-room door to see Jake Hancock perched on the edge of the patient cart, hospital gown draped loosely over his torso. As Maude stepped inside the room, Abby took up a position at the door, as if she might tackle him if he tried to leave. And she might.

      “Abby says you’re trying to bolt.”

      “The longer I sit here, the sillier I feel, ma’am.”

      “Tell me what happened to you.”

      “Nothing worth frettin’ about.”

      Maude took a step closer. “Well, now that you’re already here, I’ll examine you, take a listen to your chest and if need be, we’ll go from there.”

      “Is it really necessary?” He swung one leg and tapped the cart’s metal end with a boot heel.

      She stared steadily at him and knit her eyebrows as if contemplating a great puzzle. She knew his type. Needed a limb dangling before help seemed necessary. “That’s one of the tricky things about trauma medicine. Sometimes I don’t know if it’s ‘necessary’ until I examine the patient and see if it’s necessary.”

      “You’re sure?”

      “There is one tried-and-true way to cover the worst-case scenario without examining you.” She reached into her pocket and pulled out a small tag with a string attached to it by way of a reinforced hole. One of the M.D.’s who’d helped her train in rural medicine had given it to her. One of my old tricks, he had said.

      Maude had thought she’d never use it, but here she was handing it to her third patient.

      Abby laughed out loud and came up to stand beside Jake.

      Jake took the small tag and let it dangle from his fingertips. “What’s this?”

      “A toe tag.” Abby doubled over as she spoke.

      Maude held a steady, serious expression. “Tie it on your big toe. Saves us the trouble if…”

      Jake held up a hand to stop her. “You’re very persuasive, Dr. DeVane.”

      “It’s how I can afford my yacht.” She took the tag from him and tucked it back into her pocket.

      He looked at her briefly and then laughed. “Trying to picture someone tugging a yacht up into these mountains.”

      She took the stethoscope from her pocket and held it in her hands. “So, tell me how you feel.”

      He settled back as if he might stay for the exam. “Like I was kicked into the dirt by a Boardroom Betty. Mostly a pride injury, I suspect. I was only down for a couple seconds.”

      “He has two small impact marks on his chest,” Abby offered.

      Maude examined him, read the electrocardiogram and found nothing to make her think he had any serious side effects from the kick or the fall, but harbored her usual suspicion for a posttrauma case.

      “Sir, you seem to have pronounced your diagnosis correctly. You are ‘fine’ as far as your exam and tests show.”

      He leaped off the cart and grabbed the blue work shirt from the counter.

      “We’ll give you privacy to dress, but don’t leave yet.”

      “Yes, ma’am. And, please, tell the boss I didn’t just get up and run away. He’s likely not to believe me.” He smiled at them as Maude and Abby stepped into the corridor.

      “I’ll tell him, Mr. Hancock.” Maude pulled the door closed.

      Now, back to the seminar leader’s problem pupil.

      Seminar leader. It’s not that she hated Guy Daley or anything—not really. He was being a big brother looking after Henry. Though he was overbearing and a snob and sometimes…

      Maybe she hated him a little. She’d have to work on that one if they were going to live in the same valley. Henry had loved him after all. Maybe he’d mellowed in the years since she’d seen him.

      “Excuse me.” Guy stood in the hallway, his hair a bit disheveled. A dark lock fell over his forehead, making him look a little like a cross between a certain superhero and his alter ego.

      Feelings shot through her which she banished almost before she acknowledged them.

      “The tech has the X-rays finished. They look…Well, they’re ready for you to read,” he said, as he followed her down the hallway.

      She stopped and turned. “Dr. Daley.”

      “I’ll be waiting down there.” He gestured toward the entrance and walked away.

      She smiled a little. He couldn’t stand to be sent to the waiting room instead of doing the sending.

      She continued to the small recess that served as the tiny clinic’s supply closet and X-ray viewing room. The tech had kindly moved the mop and pail out of the way so she could get a good close look at the X-ray films.

      A few minutes later, she went in to see Ms. Stone and found her patient reclined on the cart with a damp wash-cloth over her eyes. Maude touched the woman’s arm.

      “Yes.” Cynthia’s voice was weak and, well, pathetic if Maude was to go there.

      “Ms. Stone, I’ve looked at your X-rays.”

      The patient removed the cloth from her eyes. A hopeful look spread over her face. Maude liked giving good news. It was one of the best parts of being a doctor.

      “There’s no break and no signs of any degenerative joint disease. The bone structure of your foot and ankle looks just fine.”

      Ms. Stone’s expression became distorted. But she remained silent.

      Not exactly the reaction Maude expected.

      “You might have a small muscle tear or a strained ligament which wouldn’t show up on X-ray. The tech will tell you what you need to do for it, give you home-care instructions and wrap it with an elastic bandage. If it hurts too much, use an over-the-counter pain medication. I’ll call—”

      Ms. Stone began to squirm and look around the room, to look anywhere except at Maude.

      “Is there something wrong?” Maude asked.

      “I can’t go with Mr. Daley. You’ll have to keep me here until I’m better.” She still avoided looking at Maude.

      “Is there a problem I should know about?” Other than a problem with a hotshot emergency doctor not

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