Under Alaskan Skies (19 page)

“Could I ask you a question, Doc?” he said.

“Sure.”

Reluctantly Carrie stepped away from the door. She couldn’t help but think of the breakfast getting cold in the kitchen while Mel prepared to ask Matt for the impossible—that he set up a practice in Mystic.

“See,” he said to Matt as he took off his broad-brimmed rain hat and held it in his hands while it dripped on the floor. “We need a doctor in town, and we were wondering, that is some of us were talking at the store this morning, wondering if we could hire you as our doctor.”

Carrie felt her face turn red with embarrassment. Poor Mel, thinking he could coax a future plastic surgeon to give up a brilliant career to practice medicine in Mystic. She knew Matt would be polite. She knew he’d be tactful, but still…

“I’m very flattered,” Matt said. “I know what a great community you have up here and you wouldn’t invite just anybody to be a part of it. But I have a job in San Francisco. I’m going to begin a residency in plastic surgery. It’s something I’ve been preparing for for years. They’re expecting me and I really have to get back there as soon as I can.”

“Oh, I was afraid of that,” Mel said. “Well, if you know anybody who needs a job, let us know. Or let Carrie know. You’ll be in touch, won’t you?” He looked from Carrie to Matt and back again.

“Of course,” Matt said. “There are doctors who
specialize in family medicine, which is what you need. Or a nurse practitioner.”

Melvin nodded and reluctantly said goodbye.

Carrie held the door open for him. “I told him before you came down. He already knew what you’d say. I don’t know what he was thinking, you working here. But he just had to hear it from you.”

“I’m really sorry to disappoint him. Maybe I can find you someone,” Matt said.

“Someone who’d come up to live in Mystic and practice medicine?” she asked incredulously.

“Maybe it wouldn’t be a doctor, but some kind of medic who’d appreciate the town as much as you do. Who loves the outdoors and the independent way of life. Come on, Carrie, you don’t think you’re the only one who values this place.”

“Of course not, but…” She didn’t finish her sentence. This was not the time to debate this subject again. Instead she led the way to the kitchen. She thought she’d be embarrassed to see Matt this morning. She thought she’d be tongue-tied and shy. But when they got to the kitchen where the stove heated the room and the smell of hot biscuits filled the air, and he took her in his arms in the kitchen and held her close and kissed her forehead, her cheeks and then her lips, she forgot all that, let herself go and gave a sigh of pure contentment.

“I missed you this morning,” he murmured into her ear. “I wanted to wake you up with a kiss and make love to you again to show you it wasn’t just the lightning and thunder. I wanted to kiss all the places I missed last night.”

“Really?” she murmured. “I didn’t think you missed any.”

“Hmm. You know, if I wasn’t so hungry right now, I’d take you back up there and…”

She wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed her lips against his mouth. Yes, she wanted to hear him say what he wanted to do, but even more she wanted to wrap her body around his, to breathe in the essence of him, to absorb him into her pores. If she’d stayed in bed, woke him up with a kiss, would they be there now, the sheets tangled around them, their bodies pressed against each other, cheek to cheek, hip to hip.

She shivered. If she thought that one night with him would be enough, she knew now she was wrong. One night had made her wish for another, and another would only make her wish for more. So she had to stop now before she was in over her head. After he left, she’d be left to pick up the pieces. Now was the time to think of the future and try not to make it any harder than it was going to be on herself.

“Breakfast,” she said brightly, pulling out of his arms. “I’m hungry, too.”

He nodded, but he gave her a quick glance as if he knew why she’d changed the subject. As if he’d read her thoughts and not only shared them but reached the same conclusion. Back off. Yes, last night had been special. Yes, they both wanted more, but that would only make it harder to say goodbye. Speaking of goodbye…

“I was listening to the weather report on the radio before you came down,” she said as she poured
two cups of coffee and sat down at the table across from him.

He was so busy spreading butter on a hot, flaky biscuit he didn’t even look up.

“They say it will clear tomorrow,” she said.

“Already?” he said.

“Already? You’ve already been here two days and seven hours longer than you or anyone else planned. Aren’t you going stir crazy?” she asked.

He shook his head. “If I only have one more day,” he said soberly. “I want to make the most of it.”

She nodded. She didn’t think he’d jump for joy, but she did think he’d be moderately happy at the thought of leaving. After all, he had a life to get back to. But there was no hint of joy or relief in his voice.

“Of course. What do you want to do?” As soon as she’d spoken the words, she was sorry. He gave her a long, steady look that told her she knew exactly what he wanted to do.

“Matt,” she said, setting her fork down. “Last night was—”

He held up his hand. “I know what you’re going to say,” he said. “It was nice but… Don’t worry, I understand. You don’t want to spend the day in bed with me.”

“Wait, I never said…”

“You didn’t have to. Your face is so expressive, Carrie, you have no idea.” He reached across the table and rubbed his knuckles gently across her cheek. “I can tell what you’re thinking. I guess I knew deep down, when you were gone this morning, that was it. You were sending me a message. I got it and you’re right. We both have lives to live after tomorrow. I’m
not saying I agree with you, but I respect your opinion. But I wish…”

She held perfectly still, her gaze locked on his, waiting for him to say what he wished. But he didn’t. He shook his head and set his fork down.

“Any more coffee?” he asked.

She got up and filled his cup. She set the coffeepot down and stood behind him with her hands on his shoulders. She was preparing some kind of speech. She wanted to say something that would let him know how much this interlude had meant to her, how she felt about him and how much she’d miss him. But before she could speak, the doorbell rang again. She dropped her hands. He turned his head and looked up at her inquiringly.

She sighed. Was it from relief that she didn’t have to make her speech? Or concern that she might not be able to say what was in her heart? She only knew she was off the hook for now. “I have no idea who that could be. You stay here and finish your breakfast,” she said.

Matt sat at the kitchen table and looked up at the clock on the wall. How much time did they have left together? Whatever it was, it wasn’t enough. Or maybe it was too much. He had no idea how hard it was going to be to get back to his other life. He only knew he would miss her terribly. Sometime during the day, he had to tell her how much she’d meant to him. How tempted he was to say yes to Melvin’s request.

He looked around the kitchen at the hand-painted designs on the cupboards and the copper pots on the stove. He knew how much love and care had gone
into the furnishing and the building of this room and this house. Every inch reflected Carrie’s personality. He inhaled the fragrance of coffee and hot biscuits and homemade jam.

He could imagine without any trouble what it would be like to live here with her. Making love every night in front of the fireplace. Long, leisurely mornings in bed. Life took on a different rhythm up here. There was time for family and friends. Lots of time. There was even time for fishing and boating in this vast and wild land.

He could very well be the town doctor as Melvin and others had suggested. He could handle emergencies here and in other nearby villages that Carrie would fly him to. But what would happen if he woke up one day and realized he hadn’t fulfilled his destiny? How would he feel knowing there were no other doctors to talk to, to learn from, to share ideas with? That there was no hospital, no equipment. There was just himself.

He would be Carrie’s husband, the man who gave up his career for her. She was worth it, no doubt about it. She was everything he’d ever wanted but didn’t know it. He hadn’t known anyone like her even existed. Now that he knew, how was he ever going to be happy with anyone else? He wasn’t. But if he gave up his career for her, whether she’d asked him to or not, the day would come when he’d resent her for it, and that wouldn’t be fair.

He knew, as surely as he knew he was meant to be a doctor, that there would be no other woman for him. As soon as he got back to California, he had an obligation to inform Mira he wasn’t going to marry her.
He couldn’t. Not now, not ever. He didn’t intend to tell the truth, that he’d met a woman who’d spoiled him for all others. No, he’d make up something more believable. He’d use his work as an excuse again. That excuse had worked in the past, it would work again.

When Carrie came back to the kitchen, he was more than ever determined to make the most of this day and not spoil it by thinking of the future or what might have been.

“You have another patient,” she said with a smile.

“Nothing serious, I hope,” he said, getting up from the table.

“How are you at broken bones?” she asked.

He shrugged. “It’s been a while, but I’ll do what I can. Who is it? How did it happen?”

“The patient’s name is Ruby and she had a run-in with a door.”

“That’s how she broke her leg?” he asked.

“That’s what they say.”

Matt followed Carrie into the living room where a young girl was sitting in the overstuffed chair with a cardboard box at her feet. She didn’t seem to be in pain, nor could he see any broken bones, offhand.

“Angela, this is Dr. Baker.”

Angela nodded shyly.

“What’s the problem, Angela,” he asked, kneeling down next to her.

“It’s Ruby,” she said, her eyes filling with tears. “She broke her leg.” She lifted the top off the box to reveal a lop-eared rabbit inside resting on a bed of wood shavings.

Matt smiled reassuringly at the little girl, and with
two hands, he lifted the rabbit gently out of the box and ran his fingers over the back leg, trying to determine which bones were involved. The rabbit was shaking in his hands, probably from fear or shock.

“I’m not sure if this is a strain or an incomplete fracture. Without an X ray, it’s hard to tell. To be on the safe side, we’ll treat it as a fracture. It was good that you brought your rabbit to see me,” he said to Angela.

“But you can fix him, can’t you?” Angela asked hopefully, looking at him with huge brown eyes.

“I can try,” Matt said. “I’m not an orthopedic man, that’s a doctor who treats broken bones, but I’ll see what I can do. Carrie, could you get my case for me?

“What we want to do with a broken bone is to put it back in place until it heals itself. Bones will do that if we help them along,” he explained. He looked inside the ship’s doctor’s case and found his package of tongue depressors. After gently pushing the bone back into place he took a roll of gauze and wrapped a wooden tongue depressor around the leg. Then he sealed it with adhesive tape and handed Ruby to her owner.

“Ruby should stay off her feet for a while while the bone heals,” he said. “Can you keep her from hopping around?”

Angela nodded vigorously, hugging the bunny to her chest.

“Wait, I’m going to give her a shot of vitamin B-complex just to boost her general health and so she’ll feel better. You hold her tight, Angela.” He took out a disposable syringe, filled it with the liquid vitamin
and inserted the needle into the rabbit’s haunch. After a brief shudder, the rabbit relaxed into Angela’s arms.

“What if she doesn’t get better?” Angela asked, and bit her lower lip.

“I think she will, but just in case, I’ll give you my phone number, and you can call me and maybe I can suggest something for you to do,” Matt said.

“Thank you,” the little girl said as she put the rabbit back into the box.

“How will you get her home?” Matt asked.

“Her mom is waiting in the car outside,” Carrie said.

Matt stood in the doorway with Carrie, watching Angela carry her precious rabbit in its box out to the waiting car. Then he went to the bathroom to wash his hands. When he came back, Carrie was standing at the window watching the sky, reminding him of when he had to leave this place.

“You’re amazing,” Carrie said, turning to give him a smile.

“Just call me Dr. Dolittle,” he said.

“This is your vacation. You weren’t supposed to be working.”

“That wasn’t work. That was fun. Cute kid.”

“I don’t suppose you had a rabbit when you were a kid, considering you had a disadvantaged childhood,” she teased.

“That’s right,” he said. “No fishing, no siblings, no pets.”

“What did you do for fun?”

“Fun? That’s a good question. Let’s see. I entered the science fair and won second prize for my project on inchworms.”

“That was fun?”

“For me it was. I was a serious kid. What about you?”

Carrie leaned back against the wall while the images came to her mind—planting a garden in the spring, following a red fox to learn where its den was, building a fort in the fir tree behind the house. What a free and happy childhood it had been. “Oh, I had lots of fun, running wild in the woods with the other kids. My friends and I also had a very exclusive club and we met in our tree house out in back.” She glanced out the window. “I’m just glad the storm didn’t get that one. Yes, in some ways we did things just like kids all over the country. Except you, of course.”

“Me? I guess I was really different. What can I say? I was a real nerd. A dork. By the way, what happened to the other kids, the friends you grew up with? I haven’t seen many people your age around,” he said, sitting on the arm of the big chair.

“They’re mostly all gone, like young people in small towns everywhere, they had to leave to find jobs on the outside. I was the only one to go on to school, though. After high school some of my friends went to work at the zinc mine up north, some went to Juneau to work in government offices and a few stayed around to fish and hunt. You’re right, there are only a few my age.” She was afraid he was going to ask her again about loneliness and she was ready to deny it once again. “Which doesn’t bother me,” she said before he could phrase the question. “Because I have plenty of friends of all ages—kids and old people, too. Well, you know, you’ve been meeting them.”