“Okay, Kenisha, I think you’ll be fine in school,” Dr. Dalton said. “Try not to give your teacher a heart attack with the monster face.”
The girl scrambled down from the stool and dashed into the reception room to pick out a book, her mother rushing to keep up with her.
“Her weight is low, off the bottom of the chart for her age and height,” he said. “I want her on a daily vitamin program. Put her down for recall in three months.”
Shelby heard the words, but they didn’t register. She knew she should be writing something, but her hand didn’t move across the page of the girl’s chart.
“Shelby?”
She stared into the blue eyes, the handsome, serious face, but she didn’t respond to the question. Locked someplace between the past and the present, it was as if she didn’t exist in either time.
“Hold the fort,” Beau said, sticking his head around the door frame and speaking to the volunteer who was directing the flow of children into the examining room of the clinic. “Give us ten minutes to catch up.”
He closed the door, then poured two cups of coffee. “Here. Drink this.”
He watched the new school nurse as he held the plastic cup out toward her. She blinked, looked from him to the cup, then accepted it. Her fingers trembled slightly.
“Did you eat breakfast?” he asked.
She shook her head. A ghost of an apologetic smile appeared and disappeared, flashing over her mouth so rapidly he wasn’t sure he’d seen it. “I was running late. The alarm didn’t go off. Fortunately, Amelia woke me.”
Amelia was the owner of the local B and B. A thoughtful person, she’d sent some muffins to the clinic that morning for the staff. From Shelby’s remarks, he assumed she was staying at the grand old Victorian.
“Low blood sugar,” he diagnosed, although he was sure it was more than that. He made a point of not prying into other people’s problems. Unless the person was a patient, of course, which she wasn’t. “We’ll take a break. Sit down for a few minutes.”
“Yes, thank you,” she said. She took a seat and sipped the steaming coffee.
Beau went into the staff room, snagged two muffins and two cartons of nonfat milk and returned. His assistant was sitting where he’d left her, her gaze on the peaks visible from the window.
She glanced his way. Her eyes were as blue as his own, but her hair was a flaming auburn, as straight and fine as silk thread. Caught with a blue band at the nape, it cascaded down her back like a flow of hot lava.
He’d wanted to touch it since meeting her last week for the preschool consultation with the state and county officials about the new program. Interest of a physical nature hummed through him. He mentally took a step back to observe his own reaction.
Yeah, he was interested. But he wouldn’t act on it.
Inhaling deeply as he put the treat on the counter behind her, he caught the subtle scent of shampoo and soap and talc, but no added cologne or perfume.
Her face, with its hint of golden freckles, was free of makeup. Its shape was a classic oval, like those in pictures depicting saints and such. He wanted to run his fingers along her cheek to see if her skin was as soft and smooth as it looked. Normally flushed a healthy pink, she looked pale now. “Peaked,” his uncle Nick would say.
“Eat,” he said.
She did as told. He let the silence linger between them while they finished the snack. Slowly the color returned to her face. Serenity seemed to enclose her in a protective aura, a thing he’d noticed at their first meeting, as if she existed in a clear shell that the world couldn’t penetrate.
Again, he felt the tug of interest, only this time it was centered on her character. Was she reserved by nature, or had life shaped her that way?
None of his business, he reminded the curious part of him. Theirs was a business relationship.
“Thank you. That was delicious.” She wiped the corners of her mouth, smiled and stood. “Sorry, but what was I supposed to put on Kenisha’s chart?”
“Her weight is rather low. That in itself isn’t necessarily a problem, but I want to keep an eye on her. She’s to get a daily vitamin. Let’s see her again in three months.”
“Right.” She wrote the information and flagged the chart, all business again now that she’d eaten.
Beau decided his original diagnosis had been correct—she’d needed a break and something to eat. After tossing the plastic cup into the trash, he told the receptionist to continue sending the kids in.
Normally on a Wednesday he’d be helping Zack over at the resort they were building at the lake. Instead he’d spent the time in the office. He and several local citizens were donating their services through the clinic he’d opened in July, a month ago today, to the cause of children’s health before they started school in a couple of weeks.
Restlessness assailed him. Another two hours and they would be finished for the day. Then he’d head for the lake.
Shelby, the new part-time school nurse, stored the file in the box and selected the next one. Her smile was all gentle welcome as the next child came through the door.
His heart kicked into gear with a hard, steady th-thump that added to the hum of sexual energy running through him.
Cool it, he advised his libido. He didn’t mix business and pleasure, never had, never would. However he did have a proposition to put to her. He’d already decided to invite her out to lunch when they finished.
It was after twelve before the last of the youngsters in the new program were checked and pronounced fit. The kids were also going through a battery of tests to determine their readiness for school. Welcome to the exciting world of learning!
“How about some lunch?” he said to Shelby.
She shook her head and closed the file box provided by the state. “I, uh—”
It was obvious she couldn’t come up with a reasonable lie fast enough to account for a refusal. Her reluctance was a challenge. It wasn’t often a Dalton was refused by a woman. However this wasn’t the two-step of courtship.
“It’s business,” he assured her.
“Business?” she repeated, looking dubious.
Beau wondered if she was so used to mowing men down with a glance from those blue eyes and a toss of that flaming hair that she couldn’t comprehend a straightforward business offer. “Yes. If you’re available, I thought we could discuss it over lunch.”
She looked so relieved, he was almost insulted. He concluded he must be losing his touch. True, it had been a coon’s age since he’d dated. Opening the clinic here and turning over his office in Boise to another doctor had taken up a lot of time and energy. It was a move he’d been saving and planning for, for five years.
Thinking over the past week, he didn’t think he’d given the new nurse any reason to distrust him. He hadn’t made a single untoward move during the four meetings they’d had to set up the screening program for the schoolkids.
With rueful amusement, he wondered if that was the problem—she’d expected a pass and he hadn’t delivered. The town gossips tended to paint the Daltons with the broad brush of conjecture and innuendo, recounting every escapade from their youth with delighted indignation to newcomers.
“I suppose that would be all right,” she finally agreed after taking her own sweet time to think it over.
“Good. Let’s go. I’m starving.”
He escorted her to his old pickup. She glanced at the vehicle, then at him.