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he could come up with some kind of answer that would satisfy her, Ellie poked her head in the door again.

      “Rory Anderson is on the line. She says she thinks her mom has a urinary tract infection. She’s having trouble passing urine, and it’s cloudy. She’s wondering if she can get an antibiotic from you.”

      He hesitated, then opened his mouth to say he’d write it and Ellie could call it into the pharmacy in Fairbanks. He forced himself to close it again. His policy was never to prescribe medicine—especially antibiotics—over the phone. He had to see the patient first, make sure it was really what they needed.

      But maybe this time he could make an exception, since Rory was a doctor. He could leave a prescription at the front desk for Rory to pick up, and he wouldn’t have to see her—except for the day after her mother went to her surgeon for a follow-up.

      No. Much as he didn’t want to see Rory, he couldn’t let his feelings urge him to violate good medical practice. Rory dealt with bones in her job. Who knew when she’d last had a patient with a UTI? Not to mention that a lot of surgeons called in antibiotic specialists for post-op infections. Truth was, there was no way around it.

      He grimaced. “Tell her to bring Wendy in right now. We’ll fit her in before the day’s over.”

      * * *

      “I feel fine, Aurora. I mean, yes, it really hurts to go to the bathroom, but my stitches hurt, too. I don’t see any reason we have to go see Jacob. Can’t I just take more pain medicine?”

      “A urinary tract infection isn’t something to mess around with, Twinkie. Not when you were on a catheter post-op and are having fever and chills now. You don’t want it to get worse and result in a kidney infection. Plus, you’ll be more comfortable when an antibiotic gets rid of it.”

      “I just hate going to doctors.”

      “Who doesn’t? Except this doctor is one of your favorite people, so quit complaining. He already said he’ll squeeze you in this evening.”

      Which had her feeling relieved that her mom would get the meds she needed, but totally dreading having to see Jake again, even though her mother would love it.

      “Okay. I guess it’s true that seeing Jacob is always fun. But why can’t you just get me an antibiotic, if that’s what you think I need? Isn’t that why you went to doctor school?”

      “I went to doctor school for a little more than that.” Trust her mom to make her laugh, even as Rory was a ball of nerves. “But I can’t prescribe medicine here. I don’t have a medical license or privileges in Alaska.”

      “Well, that makes no sense. You were born here, for heaven’s sake! Can’t you just show them your birth certificate?”

      “It doesn’t work that way. I’d have to apply and take a test.” Which she wasn’t going to do, even though there had been a time when she’d thought she’d work here forever. Now the goal was to get that position at the hospital in LA and make her move away from here permanent.

      She stroked her mother’s wavy blond hair that barely showed any silvery threads. It still hung nearly to her waist, as it always had, and Rory wondered if she could convince her to let her cut it, at least a little, so it would be easier to take care of.

      Then again, it was such a part of who her mother was that it was probably worth the extra work, so she gently twisted it and secured it into a semi-tamed ponytail.

      “Then just take the test.”

      “Maybe someday.” Meaning never. “But until then the only way for you to get an antibiotic is to go to a doctor here, and Jacob is close by.”

      “Well, if that’s what we have to do,” her mother said, shaking her head in clear disbelief of the protocols involved in medical care. “When do we leave?”

      “Right now.” Her stomach squeezed, but she stiffened her shoulders and helped her mom get her coat on. The sooner they got there, the sooner it would be over with. “They’re closing his office soon.”

      It was just a ten-minute drive from her mother’s house to downtown Eudemonia—if you could call it downtown.

      At the age of eight Rory had been amazed when she’d gone to Fairbanks for the first time, to do some clothes shopping. Before then her mother had sewn or knitted all of it—until her dad had decided they should stop homeschooling her, and send her to the public school instead.

      She’d stood out like a sore thumb at that school for a while, until she’d learned how to fit in, and one of those ways had been wearing off-the-rack clothes. She’d met Jacob Hunter at that school, too—the boy who’d become her hero.

      She’d had no idea that a real downtown had more than a post office, a few stores, a medical clinic and multiple bars. Bars being the most important things in a town, as far as many residents were concerned. But, hey, something had to help everyone get through the nearly twenty-four-hour darkness of winter and the bitter cold and isolation of those months, right?

      No doubt the bars were still the places where Eudemonians and others from nearby towns got together to listen to local musicians, play cards, checkers or poker and socialize.

      Memories of those days had her smiling for a split second—until she remembered she wasn’t a part of this place anymore, and sure wouldn’t be doing any of that while she was here.

      A couple of cars were parked behind the clinic, and as soon as she spotted a gleaming black pickup truck, with big, knobbly wheels ready to tackle the snow when it came, she knew it was Jake’s. He’d always loved black cars and manly trucks, saying how he’d have one someday, when he was a doctor like his dad.

      A vision of his first beaten-up car, which he’d bought in high school with the money his dad had paid him to keep the clinic clean and take care of the medical waste, popped into her head. He’d still been driving it when all hell had rained down on their heads, and she was glad it wasn’t still around so she didn’t have to see it and remember.

      Not that she didn’t remember it as if it were yesterday anyway.

      “No need to hurry in, Twinkie,” she said as she helped her mom from the car. “Take your time.”

      “I know I’m a pain, marshmallow girl. I’m walking slower than Grandma Lettie did when she was ninety-five. But my belly still hurts a lot, darn it.”

      She grinned up at Rory, and the tightness of her chest eased at her mother’s upbeat attitude toward life. Wendy Anderson had always been an odd little thing, but she was special in so many ways. Rory knew she was blessed to have her as a mother, even though she had often been more like the parent and her mother more like the child.

      “You could never be a pain. I love you.” She kissed her mother’s cheek, then opened the clinic door for her.

      Ellie Sanders stood there, ready to take them back to the examination room, and Rory smiled at the woman who’d worked in the clinic for as long as she could remember. “Hi, Ellie. Thanks so much for fitting Mom in.”

      “No thanks necessary, Rory. Besides, it’s thanks to Dr. Hunter, too, not just me. I’m never in a hurry to leave all the excitement of this place and be all alone at home.”

      The twinkle in her eyes showed she didn’t really feel lonely, and Rory nearly asked about her kids and grandkids but decided not to go there. She didn’t want to reconnect too much to this town she’d be leaving again soon.

      “He’s waiting for you in Room two.”

      Rory’s heart seemed to skip a beat with every step down the hallway until they finally reached the room. The door was partly open, and inside she could see Jake’s mother standing there, talking to someone out of her line of vision.

      Her heart gave another unpleasant kick. She didn’t really want to make stiff and uncomfortable small talk. But then she started

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