Everything You've Got: Anything & Everything, Book 2 (28 page)

“I’ll be at home. I’ll make dinner.”

She just stared up at him for a moment. “You’re not going in?”

He glanced at the restaurant. “Nah. If I go in now I might get caught up in something and not be home when you get there.”

She was in awe of this. Luke Hamilton hadn’t missed a day in The Camelot…until they’d hit the road in the RV. As that truth sank in she stared at him. Taking her away to Nashville had been the first time Luke had been away from The Camelot for an entire twenty-four hour, or more, period of time.

That was big.

“I better get going,” she said, stepping back before she started undressing him right here in the parking lot.

She dug her car keys from her purse and unlocked the door. Just before she climbed behind the wheel she gave him a grin. “You know I never mind ending my day here at the restaurant. In fact, I love it.”

He cocked an eyebrow. “You think I won’t be able to stay away? That I’ll go in to check on one—okay, two—things and then lose track of time?”

She lifted a shoulder. “I think it wouldn’t be the worst thing to happen.”

He stepped forward, cupped her jaw and kissed her long and sweet. Then said, “I love you.”

Her heart clenched and she swallowed hard. He was a dream come true—at the worst possible time.

“I’ll find you when I get back,” she promised. Then she kissed him again before slipping into the driver’s seat and heading for Alliance and Dr. Brickham’s office to see how much more her life was going to change.

Chapter Ten

The trip between Justice and Alliance was long even on beautiful sunny days. In crappy western Nebraska winter weather or when she needed to be there especially early in the morning—or when she was dreading what waited for her on the other end of the trip—it seemed endless. By the time she walked through the clinic doors she was so tense she wondered if she’d ever be able to move her neck fully again.

The Alliance Medical Partners main clinic was gorgeous. It housed not only the heart of the practice—the offices of the original partners, the scheduling and billing specialists, and the practice manager—but it also had twenty-four exam rooms, radiology, and lab.

“Hi, Lori,” Kat greeted as she crossed the huge waiting room.

“Dr. Dayton,” Lori exclaimed. “I thought you were on vacation.”

“Cut it short,” she said simply. “Is Dr. Brickham in?”

“He is. He has patients though,” Lori said.

She’d figured that. She also figured he would torture her by making her wait. “I’ll be over here.” She headed for one of the waiting room chairs and pulled out her Kindle and iPod.

An hour and a half later, she sat across from Henry Brickham, his huge mahogany desk between them. He looked tired and frustrated.

Right away, he’d filled her in on Tom’s condition—not good—then gave her the next news. Also not good.

“Probation.”

“What does that mean exactly?” She didn’t like that word. Or the tone in his voice. But at least it wasn’t firing.

“You’ll be working with another physician instead of being on your own,” he said. “Someone who can give input, provide guidance.”

She had no idea what to say. He was putting her on
probation
? Someone would be looking over her shoulder, judging what she did, watching for mistakes?

Bullshit.

“I don’t need guidance or input, Henry.”

“The partners disagree.”

“
You
disagree.” But it didn’t matter. He was senior partner. The most experienced and respected of them all. And he owned a larger share of the practice than the others. What he said went.

“Yes, I disagree.” He leaned his arms on the desk. “We have to do
something
, Kat. We can’t just say
oops
and move on. We have to show that we’re taking this seriously.”

“Who am I serving my probation with?” she asked, recrossing her legs and folding her arms across her stomach. The tension in her body made her feel like she had tremors. She was holding herself so tightly she was shaking.

“Me,” Brickham answered.

That figured. He was senior partner. And thought he knew it all.

“You’re going to come to Justice? How often?”

“Of course not.” He gave her a frown. “You’ll come here. You’ll practice with all of us here, but you’ll be my responsibility.”

“Here? Your responsibility?” Kat echoed. She wasn’t sure what to say to any of this.

“I’ll review your cases, we’ll meet regularly about your patients. You’ll be here, in the main practice, where you can observe procedures, ask questions.”

“You are completely overreacting,” she exclaimed. “I’ve already been a student and a resident.” She was torn between wanting to throw something or throw up. “I was the top of my class, flew through residency. Do you really think this is necessary?”

He sighed. “I think it’s in the best interest of the practice to publicly show that we are taking measures to ensure all of our providers are the best they can be. I don’t want to fire you. I don’t want you to have to defend yourself in court. We’re hoping these measures will prevent both of those things from becoming necessary.”

“It’s in the best interest of the practice?” she repeated. “What about me?”

“You’ll still be practicing medicine. You’ll still be employed. Is that not in your best interest?”

The entire town of Justice would know, of course, that she was no longer working there and it would take about ten seconds for them to find out why. She’d be humiliated.

“How long is the probation?”

“A year.”

She felt her eyes go wide. “A
year
?”

“Practicing general medicine in a small town is a challenge,” Brickham said. “You have to know something about everything. In a single day you could deliver a baby, set a bone, diagnose a tumor and put in stitches. You have to be everything to everyone.” He shook his head. “This is partly my fault anyway. I thought you were ready. I was wrong. I should have kept you here longer before putting you out there on your own.”

“I was ready,” she insisted. “It was a mistake. Surely I’m not the first to make a mistake in making a diagnosis.”

He shook his head. “No, of course not. And this isn’t the last diagnosis you’ll miss. But your relative lack of experience is working against you in defending this situation. It can easily be argued that a more experienced physician wouldn’t have made this mistake.”

“It can also be argued that stroke symptoms mimic a number of other conditions and causes.”

“Of course.” He pinned her with a direct stare. “But do you really want to have to have these arguments? Over and over? And I’m not even talking about court. You’ll be having this conversation on the sidewalk in front of the grocery store and at the post office and when you go out for dinner.”

He was right. The realization hit her directly in the chest. Strokes had been missed before, but Justice had never had its own medical clinic, its own doctor before. A stroke had not been missed before in Justice by the person they all trusted with their health, their lives.

This might not be the last time, but it was the first. And it would be remembered.

She didn’t want to have to have this conversation at The Camelot.

That thought sent a cold shaft of dread through her. Could she even go back to The Camelot? That was where the bulk of the population of Justice could be found on any given night. If she didn’t want to talk about her reassignment and the reasons for it, could she even step foot there?

Sure, it was chicken. Sure, she would be hiding. She hadn’t done anything
wrong
or evil, but would they understand that? If they didn’t, it would devastate her.

“What will happen in Justice?” People were just now getting used to seeking care in their own town, but it had taken awhile. If they shut the clinic now, even temporarily, it would obviously set the business back.

“Marty Davidson will be covering Justice,” Brickham said. “He’s excited about it.”

Marty Davidson. The guy who’d covered her vacation. Brickham had known that Marty would be taking over even when he’d sent her on vacation.

Marty had only a couple of years more experience than Kat.

“It’s a long drive.”

“They’re buying a house.”

Kat’s stomach pitched. Her fill-in was
moving
to Justice? That didn’t sound temporary at all. She fought to hang on to her temper and professional façade.

“So this is not a temporary arrangement?”

“I think we need to see what happens in the next few months,” Brickham said.

“You mean, we need to see if they end up yanking my license or suing me,” she said bluntly.

Brickham didn’t even blink. “Yes.”

She took a deep breath. “I see.”

And she did. She’d lost the Justice clinic.

Holy hell.

“This is partly my fault,” Brickham said.

As far as Kat could tell, all of this was his fault.

“I’m sorry, Kat.”

She jerked her head up, stunned the Henry Brickham was apologizing for something.

“I let you sell me with your confidence and your grades and the fact you were a hometown girl. But those things don’t replace experience and objectivity.”

“Objectivity?” she repeated. “What do you mean?”

“Sometimes when you treat people you know and care about it’s easier to miss things. We don’t want to see serious threats. We want everything to be fine. We want to fix everything. It’s why physicians shouldn’t treat family. It’s impossible to be objective. In a small, close-knit town like Justice the same thing could easily happen.”

Kat didn’t reply. She wasn’t sure what to say. She’d known Tom her whole life. Was it possible that her relationship with him made her see a sore shoulder instead of a more serious condition?

“So you don’t think I’m the right choice for Justice? Even after the probation?”

Brickham didn’t answer directly. Instead he said, “We would understand if you choose not to stay with AMP.”

She stared at him. An invitation to leave? “Is that what you think would be best?”

“Not necessarily. Unless the probation and working in Alliance will affect your attitude and job satisfaction.”

She narrowed her eyes. Of course it was going to affect her job satisfaction. She’d always wanted to be the physician in Justice, to take care of her friends and neighbors, contribute, be integral.

But it would not affect her attitude. She was a professional.

And what choice did she really have? She definitely didn’t have the experience or knowledge to open her own practice at this point. And how would that be different exactly? If she was in Justice they would still know about Tom, about AMP and her mess-up. It was likely she wouldn’t have a single patient seeking her care.

And there were no other hospitals or medical practices for hours.

She’d have to leave Justice, move, start over.

Leave Luke.

She pulled in a deep breath. She couldn’t do that. And he’d never leave. Justice was the only place he ever wanted to be. Even without The Camelot, Luke planned to grow old and be buried in Justice. With The Camelot it wasn’t even a question. It was his dream, his livelihood. It wasn’t exactly something he could just pack up and move somewhere else.

“I’ll stay.”

“It’s a long drive from Justice,” Brickham said.

“I’m aware.”

“I’m going to work you hard, give you a lot of exposure to a lot of things.”

“Okay.” Hard work didn’t scare her. And he wasn’t
entirely
wrong. She didn’t have a lot of experience. She’d come to him with confidence—which was a little shaky at the moment—and volumes of book knowledge. But textbooks simply could not prepare her fully for how conditions presented in real people. So many factors came into play that it would be impossible to capture it all on book pages.

“You’ll be covering more hospital visits, more ER, more of everything” he warned.

She took a deep breath. Being with Luke, being in Justice, having the life she’d always dreamed of was worth it. “Bring it on.”

It was almost five hours later before Luke heard his front door open.

He strode down the hall toward the foyer. “Kat?”

“Yeah.”

She tossed her purse on the table next to the door as if she’d been doing it for years. He smiled in spite of his concern. He loved that she was comfortable here.

“How’d it go?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.” She pulled her shirt off and tossed it toward the living room, then reached back to unhook her bra as she walked toward him. Her skirt and panties were gone before she wrapped her arms around him and pressed close. “Take me to bed.”

There was something almost desperate in the way she kissed him. It was hot and wild, as usual, but it was like she was searching for something, needed something from him.

He was completely committed to giving her whatever it was.