Almost a Family Read online

  From behind him came a loud whoop and a holler, and the sound of what had to be a hundred kids racing up the trail. Branches cracked. Pebbles skittered down the rocky precipice behind him.

  The interlopers—two vaguely familiar, bedraggled and dirt-smudged boys—skidded to a stop when they caught sight of Connor and the dog. Maisie, never much of a guard dog to begin with, promptly flopped over on her back and thumped her tail, her tongue lolling in a blatant appeal for attention.

  The kids glanced uncertainly at each other, then took a step back.

  “Who are you?” Connor asked sharply. A keen awareness of the dangers in this rough terrain, coupled with the surprise at seeing two children—alone—gave his voice an edge that sent the boys back another step. He softened his tone. “Are your parents with you?”

  The two exchanged glances again—probably sensing the danger of telling that to a stranger—and the taller one leveled a defiant glare at Connor.

  “Boys, you can’t—”

  But they both spun and raced down the trail, the sound of them skidding and crashing through the brush gradually fading away until the silence was almost too great.

  Obviously disappointed, Maisie lumbered to her feet and gave Connor a reproachful look.

  “I didn’t mean to scare them, girl.” He stared pensively in the direction they’d gone, remembering the family he’d almost had. That younger boy was probably about the same age as his own would have been….

  After Stephanie’s death he’d immersed himself in his career. He’d worked out every day until he was aching and exhausted. Ran until his lungs burned, then he’d traveled for months. Nothing helped. His grief and guilt had haunted him for over a year after he lost her.

  It was clear he wasn’t cut out for parenthood. He’d failed his wife, his unborn son, and even now his dog was better with kids than he was.

  Cursing under his breath—knowing that the nightmares would be back tonight—he whistled sharply to Maisie and headed farther up the trail at a faster pace.

  CHAPTER THREE

  AT THE SOUND OF FOOTSTEPS coming up the front steps, Erin froze.

  The dead-end lane leading to her house meant no one ever simply drove by. It was dark and quiet out here—even now, at eight o’clock in the evening. What had possessed her to choose such an isolated location?

  Lily and Tyler, playing with their newest LEGO set in a corner of the dining area, looked up at Erin, then exchanged worried glances when the caller knocked on the door.

  She gave them a reassuring smile and, moving to the entryway, pulled back the lacy curtain from the window in the door and flipped on the porch light.

  Connor?

  A stranger might have been preferable to finding him standing there, his expression cold and distant. What on earth was he doing here?

  Taking a deep breath, she unlocked the door and released the safety chain. “Yes?”

  His eyes widened. “Erin?”

  The awkward moment lengthened as they stared at each other.

  “This is the guy.” Drew came to stand next to her, his chin lifted at a belligerent angle. “The one we saw in town that first day, and then yesterday, in the woods. I told you!”

  Erin rested a hand on Drew’s tense shoulder. “Kids, I’d like you to meet Dr. Connor Reynolds.” She introduced each of the children, then frowned at Connor. “The boys said you seemed angry at them and that you looked ‘really mean.’”

  “I sure didn’t intend to frighten them.” Connor gave a low laugh. “And I’m not sure how ‘mean’ I could have seemed, with Maisie begging them to pet her.” He snapped his fingers, and a huge yellow lab appeared in the doorway at his side, her eyes warm and friendly and her tail wagging. “They were a long ways from here, in a fairly rugged area. I only asked them if their parents were close by, and they took off running.” He lowered his voice. “You may have heard about the wolves around here. I’ve seen fresh tracks several times since last weekend, and I was worried about the boys being alone.”

  Frowning, Erin studied Drew. “You were supposed to stay within sight of the house.”

  “We didn’t go far,” Drew retorted, a dark flush rising in his cheeks.

  His gaze dropped, and she knew he was hedging. “You didn’t follow the rules, then. We’ll talk about this later.”

  Drew glared at Connor. “Yeah, right—like we did anything wrong. Big deal.”

  “Why don’t you boys go on upstairs while I talk to Dr. Reynolds,” she said firmly. She turned back to Connor as his words registered. “When I saw you in town, I assumed you were just vacationing. You live around here?”

  “I moved into my uncle Ed’s place on the hill a week ago.” Connor cleared his throat. “He owns all of the surrounding property, including this cabin, and Hazel down at Dolby Realty said you had some questions. I’m not sure if I can help, but…”

  “Ed Hadley is your uncle? I knew you were from northern Wisconsin, but…” Her thoughts spinning, Erin stared at him before finally finding her voice again. “I—I’m sorry. Please, come in.”

  He hesitated, then stepped inside the hallway.

  There’d never been much love lost between Stephanie’s wealthy family and Erin’s. Though they’d been related, the social chasm between them had been far too great, and the families barely knew one another. After college graduation, Erin had only seen her second cousin at a few rare reunions, and with the exception of the brief encounter at Stephanie’s funeral, she hadn’t run into Connor at all.

  When had he grown so tall, so broad through his chest and shoulders? She hadn’t noticed at the funeral, but maturity had added layers of muscle and an air of confident masculinity, and the years had sculpted his face into rugged, intriguing angles.

  His silver-blue eyes, framed with thick black lashes and sweeping brows, had changed most of all. The careless sensuality of youth was now shadowed with experience and hints of hidden pain. Intriguing.

  He was far more polite today than when she’d seen him last, but she knew what lurked beneath the handsome surface of this man. Flustered, she asked, “Are…you’re planning to practice in Blackberry Hill?”

  “I start covering Ed’s clinic tomorrow, but just for the next three months or so, while he considers retirement.”

  “Retirement?” The dapper old skunk had never once mentioned that he was planning to take off before she ever arrived, leaving a nephew in his place.

  A nephew, Erin thought grimly, whom she could have happily avoided for the rest of her life without a moment of regret. “Dr. Hadley and I met when I interviewed here. He convinced me to take my job at the hospital, and then offered me his rental house. I looked forward to working with him.”

  Something akin to wariness flashed across Connor’s face. “You’re working at the hospital?”

  “Right. I guess we’ll run into each other, if you admit any patients.” She gave him a forced smile. “I’m the new administrator.”

  “I didn’t recognize your married name. Congratulations.” His handshake was warm and strong, though he didn’t appear delighted over the news.

  “Thanks.”

  “Ask him,” Lily stage-whispered into the growing silence. “Please?”

  Shaking off her odd reaction to Connor’s touch, Erin tipped her head toward Lily. “The kids have been begging for a dog. I’d feel safer with one around, but the Realtor found a clause in the fine print of my contract stating no pets. Can you ask Ed for me?”

  Probably without conscious thought, Connor’s fingers had been rubbing Maisie behind her ears and under her collar. Now, he looked down at the dog with open affection, and she lifted her nose to return that obvious adoration in full measure. “Go ahead. I’m sure it’ll be okay.”

  “But the contract.” Erin had to raise her voice to be heard over Lily’s whoops of excitement. “Should we—”

  “I’m sure you and the kids will take care of any problems a dog might cause. Ed gave me free rein here, because he’s so confide
nt I’ll decide to buy him out.” Connor laughed. “I guess he doesn’t know me that well.”

  And I don’t, either. Not anymore. “So you’ll be leaving this winter?”

  He shrugged. “I might find some rural area out West…or head back to the bright lights and big city. I have no desire to settle in one place.”

  A city—exactly what she planned to avoid. After Erin’s small-town childhood, the bustle and crime and anonymity of city life made her feel dehumanized and alone no matter how many people jostled her at a bus stop or shoved past her on a busy sidewalk.

  This town already felt like home, and knowing Connor Reynolds would soon be on his way out of Blackberry Hill should have given her a sense of peace.

  So how could she possibly feel regret?

  FACING MADGE WHEELER and Grace Fisher across a conference table on Monday morning made Erin feel as if she was taking a stand against two elderly but determined bulldogs. Both of them were a good two hundred pounds of solid experience and steely determination.

  And both of them were looking back at her with narrowed eyes and pursed lips, clearly suspicious of her intentions.

  “This hospital has provided good service to our town for over fifty years,” Madge said stubbornly. “I don’t see how changing everything is a good idea.”

  Grace, the less defensive of the two, merely gave Erin a patient smile. “Maybe it’s a good idea, trying to get more specialists out here. But they aren’t going to come. George tried that years ago.”

  “We need more admissions. We need more revenue. In a town that hasn’t grown more than five percent during the past three years, we can’t count on a population increase to make it happen.” Erin tapped a forefinger on the table. “This is a resort area. A place where people buy cabins on water and spend long weekends away from the city. I’ve seen some incredible homes along the lake. Who lives in those places?”

  “Weekenders from Chicago or Milwaukee or Minneapolis.” Madge gave an airy wave of her hand. “Some fly private planes and land out at the municipal airport just east of town.”

  Grace chuckled. “Such as it is. It’s a grass strip out on the Lindstrom farm, and there’s just one approach. You get a crosswind there and landing is enough to scare you right out of your girdle.”

  Erin looked out the windows at a wall of pine trees. “It’s a beautiful area. There are bound to be some specialists who already vacation here—or who’d be interested in a tax write-off. They could work a day or so, a couple times a month, then have a weekend place on the lake to relax. Not to mention physicians from the Green Bay area who could come hold specialty clinics.”

  “Why, when there’s not enough patients here now?” Madge snorted. “What good would that do?”

  “Where do people go for an oncologist, cardiologist or allergist? How far do they need to drive?”

  “An hour or more,” Grace said slowly. “But they’re already established patients in other clinics by now.”

  Erin ran a finger down a column of figures on the paper in front of her. “We’ve got just five thousand residents in this town, but I figure there must be another ten thousand or more in our market area. People who could become loyal to this hospital. Who could use doctors who’d admit them here for in-patient care.”

  Madge and Grace exchanged uncomfortable glances.

  “What?” Erin urged, when neither of them spoke. “We’re here to discuss possibilities. Adding specialty clinics would certainly help.”

  “But it probably won’t happen,” Grace said with a long, drawn-out sigh. “There’s some bad history here, over this same sort of thing.”

  An oppressive weight settled into Erin’s chest as she studied the grim faces across the table. “Tell me.”

  Grace fiddled with a pencil. “Ten years back, the neighboring town had a hospital like this one—both of them struggling, both competing for patients. Neither was big enough for a full-time physician on staff, so the doctors all rotated through scheduled times to be there—just like we handle things here now. Everyone wanted something better for their own community.”

  “Our old administrator—the guy before George—made big promises,” Madge added. “Talked about a new lab and radiology unit, and state-of-the-art equipment. Said he was going to have a beautiful new medical clinic built next door, and talked some of the doctors into investing heavily.”

  “He said he had big grants coming, too,” she scoffed. “He spent thousands and thousands of dollars on feasibility studies and planning, and even contracted some expensive remodeling projects. Most of it fell through, leaving the hospital in debt.”

  “Everyone must have been upset,” Erin murmured.

  “More than that. When the other hospital folded, those doctors didn’t transfer their patients here. Instead, they started referring clear over to Henderson Regional, and even some of our own doctors jumped ship. Henderson is more than fifty miles away, so our town lost trade, as well. There’s still a lot of hostility over it.”

  “And George—how did he handle the situation?”

  Madge’s expression softened. “He did his best. He and his wife were wonderful assets to this community.”

  “He didn’t handle it,” Grace said shortly. “Not well. George was good with the staff. He was honest and caring. But he didn’t like controversy and preferred smoothing ruffled feathers to taking an assertive stance.”

  Erin stifled a sigh. “So you don’t think it’s possible to lure specialists here.”

  “You know what it’s like at state nursing or medical conventions. People talk, word spreads. I’d say it would take a miracle.”

  Erin shuffled through her papers, withdrew a summary of the financial status of the hospital that had been presented to the board last year, and pushed it across the table. “I know you’ve both seen this before, but this is the past. The future has to bring change, or we’re looking at significant layoffs within the next six months.”

  Madge stiffened. “George never—”

  “The hospital has been running at eight full-time equivalents per occupied bed.” At the look of confusion in the woman’s eyes, Erin added, “That’s like saying we have eight full-time employees per patient, when you add full- and part-time staff. That’s almost twice what the ratio should be, and we also have a high number of empty beds.”

  “But the patient care we give is excellent!”

  “Maybe so, but that level of revenue per employee just isn’t feasible if we’re to operate in the black,” Erin said firmly. “Still, if we can offer more services, build our market share and reduce staffing through attrition rather than layoffs, I know we can turn this place around.”

  At the word layoffs, Madge blanched.

  “I need support—from the doctors, the community and especially the staff. Anyone not willing to change will need to think about whether or not they still belong here.”

  After a long pause, Grace’s eyes twinkled. “I do believe you can do it.” She gave Madge a nudge. “Right?”

  Madge swallowed hard. “I need my job. So do my niece and my brother-in-law, and all the other people who work here. I…guess we’ll have to do what it takes.”

  Erin stood and shook Grace’s hand, then Madge’s. She watched pensively as they left her office.

  It was a lukewarm response, but it was a start.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  BY THE TIME SHE GOT the kids ready for school and dropped them off at George Washington Elementary, Erin was ready for a strong cup of coffee and a few minutes’ peace.

  Lily had burst into tears over a missing homework assignment. Tyler hadn’t been able to find his shoes or his baseball mitt. And Drew had announced that his teacher was dumb, school was a waste of time and he wasn’t going back.

  Not for the first time, she thought grimly about her ex-husband, who’d chosen to cavort with some pretty thing half his age rather than face the responsibilities he’d chosen when he and Erin had decided to adopt.

  Single pare
nting was a challenge she hadn’t expected, though given the choice of being married to Sam or having these children, she knew she’d gotten the far better deal.

  At the single-story brick hospital, Erin walked through the wide front doors and greeted Beth, the receptionist, who was sitting at the desk in the lobby. Past the open double doors to the left, the west wing housed a nurses’ station, thirty long-term care beds and five beds designated for skilled care. The recreation and dining rooms were at the far end.

  She waved to several patients in wheelchairs who were out in the hall, then continued straight ahead to the north wing, which housed her office, the other administrative areas, the main pharmacy and several infrequently used surgical suites.

  From the first moment she’d stepped inside, she’d loved this place, with its big, old-fashioned windows and small-town atmosphere. It was a microcosm of a big city hospital, really—offering many of the same services, but on a much smaller scale.

  At the sound of a shrill alarm, she spun around and hurried through the lobby to the east-wing nurses’ station, which served the single, long corridor of hospital in-patient rooms. A few patients peered into the empty hallway from their doorways, then disappeared. At the end of the corridor, the double doors into the emergency department remained closed.

  Surprised, Erin watched the lone nurse at the east desk reach across a stack of patient charts and flip a button to silence the alarm, then pick up a phone and dial a number.

  “I think Frieda is dusting again,” she whispered to Erin, her hand over the receiver. “This happens every Tuesday, the day she cleans her—” She suddenly held up a hand and talked into the phone. “Frieda, this is Marcia at the hospital. Are you all right?” The nurse rolled her eyes. “I know, I know. Just don’t worry about it, okay?”