LITMIR.BIZ

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largest employer of migrant workers in the county.”

      “You’re not going to tell me old Matthew Dixon agreed to help.” Dr. Getz spoke for the first time, and Jake realized he’d been waiting—for what, Jake couldn’t guess. “The man still has the first dollar he ever made.”

      If the minister agreed, he didn’t show it. “He’ll allow us to establish the clinic on his property. There’s even a building we can use.”

      “If you can sell this idea to Matt Dixon, Pastor, you’re wasted in the ministry. You should be in sales.” Getz chuckled at his own joke, and Pastor Flanagan smiled weakly.

      “That hardly solves the problem of liability,” Morley said. “No, no, I’m afraid this just won’t do. We can’t—”

      Getz interrupted with a gesture. “I have a solution that will satisfy everyone.” The fact that Morley fell silent and sat back in his chair told Jake volumes about the balance of power in this particular hospital. “We need a volunteer from our own medical staff to head up the clinic. That’s all.” He turned toward Jake, still smiling. “I’m sure Dr. Landsdowne would be willing to volunteer.”

      Silence, dead silence. Jake stared at him, appalled. He could think of a hundred things that could go wrong in an operation like this, and any one of them could backfire on him, ending his last hope for a decent career. He had every reason in the world to say no, but one overriding reason to say yes. He had no choice. This wasn’t voluntary, and he and Getz both knew it.

      He straightened, trying to assume an expression of enthusiasm. “Of course, I’d be happy to take this on. Assuming Ms. Flanagan is willing to work with me, naturally.”

      Terry looked as appalled as he felt, but she had no more choice than he did. “Yes.” She clipped off the word. “Fine.”

      “That’s settled, then.” Getz rubbed his palms. “Good. I like it when everything comes together this way. Well, ladies and gentlemen, I think we’re adjourned.”

      Chairs scraped as people rose. Jake glanced at Terry, his gaze colliding with hers. She flushed, but she didn’t look away. Her mouth set in a stubborn line that told him he was in for a fight.

      He didn’t mind a fight, but one thing he was sure of. Terry Flanagan and her clinic couldn’t be allowed to throw him off course toward his goal. No matter what he had to do to stop her.

      Chapter Two

      “It’s not the best thing that ever happened to me, that’s for sure.” Terry slumped into the chair across from Harriet in the E.R. lounge a few days later, responding to her friend’s question about working with Jake Landsdowne. “It looks as if he’s not any more eager to supervise the clinic than I am to have him. He hasn’t been in touch with me at all.”

      Actually, she was relieved at that, although she could hardly say so. She’d tensed every time the phone had rung, sure it would be him.

      “That’s too bad. How are you going to make any progress if Dr. Landsdowne won’t cooperate?”

      Terry shrugged. “I’ve gone ahead without him.”

      “I’m not sure that’s such a good idea.” Harriet frowned down at her coffee mug. “He’s very much a hands-on chief. He’s been shaking up the E.R., let me tell you.”

      “I’m sorry.” But not surprised. Jake Landsdowne had always been supremely confident that his way was the best way. The only way, in fact.

      Harriet shrugged. “I expected it. Just be careful with him. I know how much this clinic means to you. You don’t want to put the project in jeopardy by antagonizing the man.”

      Terry thought of Juan’s frightened face, of the suppressed anger she’d sensed in Manuela. Of the other children she’d glimpsed on her trip to the migrant camp.

      “I’ll be careful.” She had more reason than most to know she had to tread carefully. For a moment the need to confide in Harriet about her past experience with Jake almost overwhelmed her caution.

      Almost, but not quite. She had to watch her step.

      Please, Father, help me to guard my tongue. Telling Harriet would put her in an impossible position, and it wouldn’t be fair to Jake, either. I just wish You’d show me a clear path through this situation.

      “Did you know Dr. Landsdowne when you worked in Philadelphia? You must have been there at about the same time.”

      Harriet’s question shook her. She hadn’t realized that anyone would put the two things together, but naturally Harriet would be interested in her new boss’s record.

      “I knew him slightly,” she said carefully. She wouldn’t lie, but she didn’t have to spell out all the details, either. “Mostly by reputation.”

      Anybody’s life could be fodder for hospital gossip, and the handsome, talented neurosurgery resident had been a magnet for it. Still—

      “Excuse me.”

      Terry spun, nerves tensing. How long had Jake been standing in the doorway? How much had he heard?

      “Dr. Landsdowne.” Harriet’s tone was cool. Clearly Jake hadn’t convinced her yet that he deserved to be her superior.

      “I heard Ms. Flanagan was here.” The ice in his voice probably meant that he knew she’d been talking about him. “I’m surprised you haven’t been here before this. We need to talk about this clinic proposal.”

      Not a proposal, she wanted to say. It’s been approved, remember?

      Still, that hardly seemed the way to earn his cooperation. “Do you have time to discuss it now?”

      He nodded. “Come back to my office.” He turned and walked away, clearly expecting her to follow.

      She’d rather talk on neutral ground in the lounge, but she wasn’t given a choice. She shrugged in response to Harriet’s sympathetic smile and followed him down the corridor. All she wanted was to get this interview over as quickly as possible.

      The office consisted of four hospital-green walls and a beige desk. Nothing had been done to make it Jake’s except for the nameplate on the desk. Maybe that was what he wanted.

      He stalked to the desk, picked up a file folder, and thrust it at her. “Here are the regulations we’ve come up with for the clinic. You’ll want to familiarize yourself with them.”

      She held the folder, not opening it. “We?”

      His frown deepened. “Mr. Morley, the hospital administrator, wanted to have some input.”

      She could imagine the sort of input Morley would provide, with his fear of doing anything that might result in a lawsuit. Well, that was his job, she supposed. She flipped open the folder, wondering just how bad it was going to be.

      In a moment she knew. She snapped the folder shut. “This makes it practically impossible for my volunteers to do anything without an explicit order from a doctor.”

      “Both Mr. Morley and I feel that we can’t risk letting volunteers, trained or not, treat patients without the approval of the physician in charge.”

      “You, in other words.”

      “That’s correct.” His eyebrows lifted. “You agreed to the terms, as I recall.”

      “I didn’t expect them to be so stringent. My people are all medical professionals—I don’t have anyone with less than an EMT-3 certification. You’re saying you don’t trust them to do anything without your express direction.”

      Were they talking about her volunteers? Or her?

      “You can give all the sanitation and nutrition advice you want. I’m sure that will be appreciated. Anything else, and—”

      His condescending tone finally broke through

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