Completely different from New York, the city of buildings and lights. She’d worked at an inner-city clinic that saw pregnant teenagers and babies with colds. It was nothing compared to the type of patients and conditions she’d experienced today. It had been exhilarating. Except for that one moment when she’d looked at that man and all the memories of her mother caught in the car had come flooding back.
The Traveling Clinic cared for people who truly needed it. These people had no other way of getting medical care. They hadn’t made poor life choices like the drug addicts and drunks in the city. Here they had nothing, and the clinic offered them something they desperately needed. And they still had a bright smile to share.
The type of work she’d done today was why she’d become a doctor. As a child, a car accident had killed her mother and had left Ellen in the hospital for weeks. There she’d learned the importance of good medical care. The staff had loved and given special attention to the little girl who had lost so much. Ellen had determined then that she wanted to work in the medical field, do for people what had been done for her.
The only sticking point had been her father. As a Manhattan socialite and the only child of an overprotective father, she’d worked at being taken seriously when she’d announced she was going to medical school. Ellen desired to do more than chair committees and plan fancy fund-raisers. She’d wanted to personally make a difference, get to know the people she was helping.
When Ellen had started practicing at the inner-city clinic her father had pitched a fit, saying it was too risky and he didn’t want her to work there.
“You’re acting like your mother. She went in head first and then thought,” he’d said more than once to her as she’d been growing up.
Ellen had told him he had no choice. A number of times she’d noticed a man hanging around when she’d come and gone from the clinic. Some days later she’d found out he had been hired by her father to watch over her because he’d been concerned about her safety.
A few weeks later she’d heard Dr. Freeman speak with such passion about his work in Honduras that she had been hooked. She wanted to make that kind of difference, offer that kind of care. The next day she’d applied to join his staff. It had taken her six months but she was finally here.
After her decision to come to Honduras, she’d thought of not telling her father but she loved him too much to just disappear. Instead, she’d told him she was going to Honduras but not specifically where she would be, fearing he’d send someone to watch over her. Again he’d accused her of not thinking it through. She’d assured him she had. For once she wanted to do something on her own, free from her father’s influence.
Her head bounced again. The picture of Dr. Freeman’s displeased look when she’d frozen came to mind. Her lips formed a wry smile. Later she had seen a small measure of respect in his eyes.
The wheels squealed to a painful halt. Ellen looked out the end of the truck to see a gorgeously groomed area. Where were they? The others filed off the vehicle and she brought up the rear. With her feet on the ground, she looked around. It appeared as if they were in the back parking lot of a resort.
A couple of Honduran helpers pulled her bag, along with Pete’s and Karen’s, down from the truck. She hadn’t met her fellow staff members until the time had come to board the flight to Honduras. Pete was a nice guy who was looking for a change after a bad marriage and Karen was a middle-aged woman who thought working with the clinic would be a nice way to see a new country. Ellen had liked them both immediately.
Their group was joined by the two doctors. She’d enjoyed working with Michael Lange. He seemed fun and laid back. The same couldn’t be said about Dr. Freeman. From what she could tell, he was an excellent doctor. Everything she’d heard about him had been glowing. But on the Mr. Congeniality scale he was pretty low. He could work on his warm welcomes. He hadn’t even taken the time to offer his name.
After hearing him speak Ellen had expected him to have less of a crusty personality. He acted as if he’d seen too much and couldn’t leave it behind. He was as strikingly handsome as she remembered. With thick, dark, wavy hair with a touch of white at the temples that gave him an air of authority, he was someone who held her attention. Even when she hadn’t been working directly with him she had been conscious of where he’d been in the tent. She generally didn’t have this type of reaction to a man.
“I’ll show Ellen to her hut,” Michael said.
“No, she’s next to me,” Chance said. “You see to, uh, Pete and...” He looked at the other nurse. “It’s Karen, isn’t it?”
“That’s correct.” Karen picked up her bag.
“Okay. Dinner is at seven in the private dining room behind the main one.” Dr. Freeman headed toward a dirt path between two low palmetto plants. There was a small wooden sign there giving arrowed directions to different areas of the resort. “Coming, Dr. Cox? I’ve got a call to make to the States before it gets too late.”
He’d not offered to carry her luggage. If he thought she couldn’t or wouldn’t carry her own bag, he had another thought coming. Grabbing her duffel, she pulled the strap over her shoulder and hurried after him. The man really was egotistical.
She followed him along a curving path through groomed vegetation beneath trees filled with blue and yellow chattering macaws. She lagged behind when she became caught up in her surroundings. The place was jaw-dropping beautiful. Completely different from any place she’d ever seen.
“Dr. Cox.” The exasperation in the doctor’s voice reminded her of a father talking to a distracted child. She didn’t like it.
“It’s Ellen.”
“Come along, Ellen. I still have work to do tonight.” He took long strides forward.
From what she could tell, he had more than put in a day’s worth of work. What could he possibly need to do tonight? “Coming, sir.”
He stopped and glared down his nose at her. “The sir isn’t necessary.”
“I just thought that since you were acting like a general I should speak to you as such.”
“Ellen, you’ll find I’m not known for my sense of humor.” He continued on down the path as if he didn’t care if she followed him or not.
“I’m sure you’re not,” she murmured. Hefting her bag strap more securely over her shoulder, she focused on catching up. They moved farther into the landscape until they came out in a small grassy opening where two huts stood with only a huge banyan tree separating them. Each had a thatched roof and a dark-stained wooden porch with what looked like comfortable chairs with bright floral pillows.
The space was perfect as a romantic getaway. “This is amazing. I expected to live in a tent and have to use a bathhouse.”
“You have a top-of-the-line bath. We work hard and the board believes the least it can do is provide a nice place to stay. The resort gives us a deal.” Dr. Freeman pointed to the structure on the left. “That hut is yours. Follow the signs around to the dining room. If you need something, call zero on the phone.” With that he headed toward the other hut.
Well, she wouldn’t be counting on him to be the perfect neighbor.
Ellen climbed the three steps to the main door. There was a hammock hanging from one post to another. The living arrangements weren’t what she’d expected but she wasn’t going to complain.
She swung the door open and entered. Her eyes widened. She sucked in a breath of pleasure. Talk about going from one extreme to another. As rough as the working conditions were, the living quarters were luxurious. She’d lived well in New York but even by those standards this was a nice living space.
The floor plan consisted of an open room with a sitting area on one side and the bed on the other. The ceiling was high with a slow-moving fan that encouraged a breeze through the slated