It was Connor Reynolds

Dressed in Levi’s and loafers, with a stethoscope hanging over his open-collared polo shirt, he looked the perfect yuppie doctor. “I just want to talk to you for a few minutes.”

“Sure.” She gestured toward the two chairs facing her desk. “Anytime.”

He settled into one and gave her a weary smile. “This is…a personal situation.”

Oh, God. Erin’s mouth went dry.

“And apparently it’s no good.” He studied her for a long moment. “I ran into your kids again on Saturday, Erin. I’d like to know what’s going on.”

Lily. Had he noticed anything? Had he caught that dimple in her chin—or the pale gray shade of her eyes? Taking a deep, steadying breath, Erin recalled the promises she’d once made to her cousin Stephanie, and gave a vague wave of her hand. “I—I’m not sure what you mean.”

“They were way up in the wood.”

“Oh.” Closing her eyes, she leaned back, pinching the bridge of her nose.

“I’ve seen more than just tracks—I saw a large black wolf on Saturday morning, just north of my house.”

“I’ll talk to them right away.”

“While you’re at it, I get the feeling that they’ve got the wrong impression of me. I’m not the monster who lives up on the hill.”

Dear Reader,

Blackberry Hill is a small town nestled in a heavily forested lake area of northern Wisconsin. It’s a town where most people have known each other all their lives, but there are a few newcomers, as well. Like Erin Lang, the new administrator at Blackberry Hill Memorial Hospital.

Six months ago Erin Lang’s life seemed perfect—until her husband abruptly walked out, leaving her with the three troubled children they’d recently adopted. She hopes to create a warm and secure home for her young family in Blackberry Hill. She doesn’t expect to run into her late cousin’s husband, Dr. Connor Reynolds, or to discover that all is not what it seems at the cheerful little hospital. Patients are unexpectedly dying…Connor could be involved…and if she doesn’t uncover the truth in time, someone in her own family will be next.

I hope you enjoy the story of Erin and Connor, and come back to town in 2006 for the next two books of my BLACKBERRY HILL MEMORIAL trilogy.

I also invite you to join me for Back in Texas in October 2005. It’s the first of five books in the ranch series, HOME TO LOVELESS COUNTY. Each book, written by a different Superromance author, is set in a dying town in the beautiful Hill Country of central Texas and involves the unique people who move there as part of a modern-day homesteading program. They’re all in search of new beginnings…and some of them find far more than they expected!

I love hearing from readers. There are contests, articles, photos, a free downloadable cookbook and previews of upcoming books at www.roxannerustand.com and www.booksbyrustand.com. Or you can write me at P.O. Box 2550, Cedar Rapids, Iowa 52406-2550. Send a business-size SASE and I’ll send you bookmarks and other goodies!

Wishing you peace, prosperity and love,

Roxanne Rustand

Almost a Family
Roxanne Rustand

www.millsandboon.co.uk

Many thanks to the wonderful people who so graciously

provided their expertise: Adrian P. Wydeven, mammalian

ecologist, Wisconsin Department of Natural Resources, for

his information on the wolves of northern Wisconsin; and

Michelle Klosterman, RN, CEN (Certified in Emergency

Nursing), whose experience in the operation of small-town

hospitals was invaluable. Any errors in this book are mine

alone. As always, best wishes and thanks to Diane, Jacquie,

Nancy, Pamela and Muriel, who are continuing sources of

encouragement and support.

To author Lyn Cote, with many thanks for our friendship,

and for the wonderful “writers’ getaway” weekends spent

at your lovely lake home in northern Wisconsin. You are a

treasure. Also, to my mother, Arline, whose gracious spirit,

energy and humor have always been an inspiration.

CONTENTS

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

CHAPTER NINETEEN

CHAPTER TWENTY

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

CHAPTER ONE

ERIN LANG HAD EXPECTED challenges when she moved to Blackberry Hill.

She hadn’t expected to run into Connor Reynolds the moment she stepped out of her minivan.

Tall, broad-shouldered and self-assured, he’d been strikingly handsome in college, but now his dark hair was longer, the lean planes and angles of his face far stronger and more interesting. Impassive, he sauntered down the sidewalk past her bumper, clearly lost in thought.

And then he caught sight of her.

He snagged his sunglasses off. The crinkles at the corners of his silver-gray eyes deepened as his startled gaze swept from her to the kids piling out of the minivan.

That glimmer of a smile faded to a grim line as he gave her a polite nod and continued on without another word.

He was, she noticed with a shake of her head, just as cool and distant as ever—not that it was any surprise.

She and her cousin had attended the same college as freshmen. Stephanie had skillfully pursued this guy, apparently choosing flash over substance, but from all accounts, their troubled marriage had been a mistake from day one.

If the family rumors were true, she’d paid for that mistake with her life.

Connor had apparently ignored his wife and immersed himself in his career, while Stephanie spiraled into deepening loneliness and depression. Two years ago, she’d lost her life driving too fast on a curving mountain road. Maybe it had been ruled an accident, but Erin still had her doubts.

Drew jostled her elbow. “Who was that?” he demanded.

Erin smiled down at her ten-year-old adopted son and tousled his curly black hair. “Someone from the past.”

Righteous indignation flashed in Drew’s deep brown eyes. “He knows you, and he didn’t even say nothin’!”

“Yes, well…” She chose her words carefully. “We were never close friends.”

Since her college days, she’d seen Connor just once—at Stephanie’s funeral. It was one of the most difficult services she’d ever attended. All of Stephanie’s friends and relatives had been grieving the loss of such a young, vibrant woman, but from her parents there’d also been a palpable undercurrent of hostility toward Connor.

In return, he’d been stony-faced and silent, holding in whatever emotions he might have felt. When Erin offered him her condolences at the grave site, the flat, cold expression in his eyes had chilled her blood.

Drew’s seven-year-old brother, Tyler, tentatively edged closer to her, thumbed up his thick glasses and peered down the sidewalk, a worried frown wrinkling his forehead.

Erin rested a reassuring hand on his thin shoulders, wishing for the thousandth time that she could erase everything the boys and Lily had gone through in their young lives before they’d come to live with her. She’d adopted the boys ten months ago and Lily five months later, and they were all still struggling with the adjustment.

“Maybe that man doesn’t remember my name. It’s no big deal.” Forcing a cheery smile, she shifted her gaze to the minivan and beckoned to Lily. “Come on, let’s get the key from the Realtor so we can settle into our new place, okay? The mover’s truck should be meeting us out there in an hour.”

Lily climbed awkwardly out of the vehicle, her Harry Potter book still clutched in her hand, a page marked with her thumb. The trip north from Wausau had taken just a couple hours, and every mile of the way she’d been immersed in the story.

A good distraction, Erin mused as she herded her troops into the small, brick Dolby Realty building. When she’d told the kids about their move to a small town in the far north of Wisconsin, Drew had masked his worries with his usual belligerent bravado. Tyler had become even more withdrawn. But Lily—

Lily had cried over leaving her beloved fourth-grade teacher. She’d been even more distraught over leaving the little house in Wausau and her newly painted pink bedroom. The apple tree in the backyard. The flower beds they’d all planted in a riot of colors. And no wonder—it was the first real home she’d ever had, even if the illusion of permanence hadn’t lasted very long.

When Erin’s husband, Sam, had abruptly announced he was leaving her for another woman, he did more than simply end a six-year marriage. He brought even greater insecurity into the lives of three children who’d already endured too much.

And for that, Erin would never, ever forgive him.

Squinting at them through her bifocals, the Realtor behind the single desk in the office patted at wisps of gray hair escaping the loose bun at the top of her head. “You must be the…um…”

“The Langs, Mrs. Dolby. I called you last week to let you know we’d be coming this afternoon.” Two months ago, the woman had taken her for a tour of four rentals in the area. “We’re here to pick up the keys for the house out on Aspen Road.”

The woman pursed her lips as she shuffled through a stack of files, withdrew one with a gusty sigh and spread it open on the desk. “Of course, the Hadley cabin. Six-month lease. Gas and electricity not included. Option to renew for a one-year period.” She shook two silver keys out of the envelope and handed them to Erin. “Looks like everything’s already signed and in order. If you have any problems, call me.”

“Thanks.” Erin gestured for the kids, who were riffling through the bass-fishing magazines stacked on a low coffee table under the front window. “Let’s head out.”

“You got that job as the new hospital administrator, right?” The older woman’s voice stopped her at the door.

“Yes.” Erin turned back to her and smiled. “I start on Tuesday.”

“I never use the local hospital.” Though Mrs. Dolby had appeared a tad absentminded, she’d been pleasant company during Erin’s house-hunting expedition. There was no trace of that friendliness now.

Surprised, Erin sent the kids on out the door, then she lowered her voice. “Why not?”

“Because I’m no fool.”

“Did you have a bad experience there?”

The woman gave a derisive snort as she picked up her phone and dialed a number, then launched into a rambling conversation with someone about housing inspections and septic tanks.

Erin watched her for a moment before heading back outside to join the children.

She’d worked as a nurse for years before going back to college, and knew situations could be misconstrued by the public. Rumors could start over nothing. Grieving relatives sometimes figured that modern medicine should have been able to save their loved one, no matter how hopeless the case, so they blamed the staff, the hospital, the attending physicians for their loss.

But as Erin stepped out into the early September sunshine, the stark reality of her situation hit her. She was alone now, with three children to support. She had no friends here, no relatives within several hundred miles.

Maybe this move had been a mistake.

THE KIDS WERE SILENT as Erin drove down Main Street. Lily pressed her face to the front passenger-side window, her heavy book clutched to her chest like a security blanket. In the back, each boy huddled at a window.

Three blocks of small businesses—mostly gift shops, upscale clothing stores and the sort of arts-and-crafts stores that appealed to the tourist trade—soon gave way to pine trees and a scattering of coffee shops and bars. Beyond the downtown area, a string of sporting goods stores, geared to outdoorsmen who needed anything from fishing rods to snowmobiles to mountain bikes, rimmed the shore of Sapphire Lake.

The sparkling, dark blue waves crested in the Saturday morning sunlight, jostling the array of brightly colored boats docked at a marina near the highway. The smart, white facilities and sprawling supper club overlooking the lake spoke of money. Lots of it, if the largest boats were any clue.

Past the marina, a pretty county park followed the shore for a good half mile, then a haphazard network of tumbledown docks and aging fishing boats. A shack with a hand-painted sign promised Fishing Guide—Good Rates.

“Wow,” Tyler whispered as a glittering red boat swept close to shore, sending a high spray of water arcing like diamonds. “Can we—”

“Yeah, cool,” Drew broke in, leaning across the backseat to give his brother’s shoulder a bump. “Are we getting a boat like that one?”

Erin thought about the debts she still had to pay and the shaky financial situation at the hospital, and smiled at Drew through the rearview mirror. “Probably not for a long while. I’ll bet we can rent one, though. Wouldn’t that be fun?”

He flopped back in his seat. “Yeah, right. Like that’s gonna happen. You’ll think it’s too dangerous, or say it costs too much money. Like with the horses.”

Erin shifted her attention back to the road, knowing that explanations would just provoke an angry response.

Back in Wausau, there’d been an old man with horses who lived just a mile away. She had no doubt that Drew had badgered the poor guy until he finally agreed to let Drew clean the stalls in exchange for riding privileges.

The next day, a woman at the local saddle shop had rolled her eyes when Erin asked her opinion. The two geldings had been used for barrel racing and had been hot as pistols, she’d said, so who knew what they might be like after not being ridden for ages?

It had been clear to Erin that a boy from the inner city would be no match for twelve hundred pounds of barely leashed energy, but Drew still hadn’t forgiven her for refusing to let him ride.

A mile farther out of town, she slowed down after passing a ramshackle shed emblazoned with a faded Smoked Fish! sign. She turned up a narrow gravel road leading through a stand of aspens, then into a dark pine forest that crowded the road on either side.

“Almost there, guys,” she called out.

Lily twisted in her seat, her eyes wide. “Here? All alone?”

“Just wait,” Erin assured her. At a Y in the road she bore to the right, the van’s suspension creaking as the road grew rougher. “I think you’ll like it.”

A moment later, the narrow lane ended at a small, one-and-a-half-story log home shaded by a trio of towering pines, and beyond, a meadow strewn with a late summer rainbow of rosy fireweed, blue vervain and goldenrod. Only the distant rat-a-tat of a woodpecker broke the silence.

“So, guys—what do you think?” Erin pulled to a stop in front of the little house and held her breath, hoping for a positive reaction.

The past few months had been hectic, thanks to Sam’s insistence that their house be sold as soon as possible. Perhaps he’d been right in wanting to list it before the winter slowdown in real estate, but the abrupt change had been just one more painful chapter in a fast divorce she hadn’t expected.

Luckily, she’d finished her degree in hospital administration the semester before, and had found the job in Blackberry Hill. The interview and house hunt had involved a quick trip north—this place had been the only decent rental in her price range. There hadn’t been a single weekend free to bring the kids to see their new home.

She’d expected them to launch out of the van like missiles, excited about seeing the place. Instead, all three remained still and silent, their expressions wary.

Erin unbuckled her seat belt and twisted around to look at them. “Just a couple of rules, okay? No fighting over bedrooms, because we’ll get it all figured out. And everyone helps until we’re done today. Any questions?”

“How far are we from town?” Drew asked, his voice heavy with suspicion. “Like, can I bike there?”

Erin shook her head. “It’s almost a mile down to the road, and after that there’s another couple miles of busy highway into town. I don’t think that would be safe.”

His eyes widened in horror. “I’m going to be stuck out here?”

“Monday’s the Labor Day holiday, but after that you’ll be in town five days a week for school,” Erin said firmly. “I’m sure we’ll also be running lots of errands while we’re settling in, so you aren’t going to be ‘stuck’ out here. What do you two think? Lily? Tyler?”

Lily stared out of the front window of the car, her hands knotted in her lap. “A-are there any other kids out here?”

“I’m not sure, sweetheart. We’ll find out.”

“What about a dog? Can we get a dog?” Tyler piped up after a long silence. “We’d have room for a dog!”

“Yeah—what about a dog? Something big,” Drew suggested with obvious relish. “Like Angelo’s dog that knew how to attack. Not some sissy dog.”

Erin could well imagine the sort of guard dog Drew meant. Their mother and her last boyfriend, Angelo, had lived in a rough inner-city area, and both of them were now serving twenty-five years of federal time for multiple drug offenses.

“I’d never buy a dog that might be dangerous,” Erin warned them. “It’s not worth the risk to us, or anyone who visits.”

“But you’d get a nice one?” Tyler whooped with joy. “Really?” He bounced on the seat. “When? Can we go today?”

Back in Wausau, she’d never been able to get them a dog or cat because Sam had been allergic to both. “Look, guys,” she said. “I know it sounds like a great idea. But first, we’re going to give this town a try. If things work out—if my job goes well and if the school system is good—then we’ll look into buying a house of our own. Until then, a dog just isn’t possible.”

“Why not?” Drew demanded. “We’d take care of it.”

“This is a rental. I didn’t check the lease, but I’m sure the landlord wouldn’t let us.”

“Please,” Lily pleaded. “Can you ask? Please?”

“Well…” Erin found herself confronted by three desperately hopeful faces. “Okay. Once we get moved in, I’ll ask the Realtor, but if she says no, then we have to abide by that. And if—if—we can have a dog here, I’ll expect you all to help look after it. Deal?”

All three kids nodded, their eyes sparkling with excitement, and she knew she had to do everything in her power to make it happen.

They’d each faced the loss of one home after another, and they’d learned to avoid attachments to people and places. Maybe they weren’t excited about this cabin, but having a dog to love would be wonderful therapy for them all.

From behind her car she heard the rumble of a truck creeping up the steep, rocky lane, and minutes later a small moving van lumbered into view.

“Okay, so here’s the plan. The guys I hired will help us get everything into the house and put the big pieces where they belong. The rest of it is up to us.” She grinned at them, her own excitement rising, as she handed Drew one of the house keys. “The sooner we get settled, the sooner we can have some fun. Let’s go inside and figure out who gets which bedroom.”

At that, the van doors flew open and the kids ran for the house, with Lily lagging behind as always, because of her weak left foot. At the porch, though, the boys waited for her to catch up.

Watching them, Erin’s heart filled with such deep love and pride that her eyes burned.

Sam had betrayed their family, but he’d thrown away something very precious and he’d been too self-centered to even realize it.

A good job, a good town, and these children were all she needed from now on. And if a puppy could help with this latest upheaval in their lives, then so be it.

After conferring with the two men she’d hired to move her furniture, she jogged up to the house while they backed the truck to the front door.

The wide porch, with its log posts and railing, looked out over a small meadow rimmed by a narrow stream on the northern boundary. Stepping inside the double screen doors, she sighed with pleasure. The entryway opened onto a great room with a stone fireplace dominating one wall, an exposed staircase to the loft another. On the left, an archway led into the kitchen.

Lily appeared in the doorway straight ahead, which led to a hallway, two bedrooms and the bathroom. “We figure you should have the big bedroom back here,” she said shyly. “I really like the other one, if that’s okay. It’s real pretty.”

“Of course it’s okay.” Erin cocked her head, listening to the footsteps thundering overhead. “Sounds like the boys found the loft—did you see it?”

Lily shuddered. “Yeah, but I wouldn’t want to stay up there if they did.”

“This is cool!” Drew shouted.

Erin looked up at the balcony, relieved to see the broad smile on his face.

She’d figured the boys would like the loft, with its built-in bunk beds and steeply slanted ceiling. There was a little cupola on the roof, too—a steep ladder on one wall led up into a small lookout tower, glass on all sides, and she could well imagine them up there, playing all sorts of games involving adventure and fantasy.

“Drew!” Tyler shouted. “Quick!”

At the hint of panic in his voice, Erin rushed up the stairs and into the loft bedroom.

She could see just his Nikes and the hem of his jeans up in the cupola, then Drew scurried up the ladder and crowded him to one side. “What is it?” she called out.

The boys were silent for a long moment, then they scrambled down the ladder, Tyler’s face pale and Drew’s alight with excitement. “We saw a wolf,” he exclaimed. “It was huge! Right out there next to the trees.”

One of the movers knocked sharply at the front, then the screen door squealed open. “Ma’am—where do you want this couch?”

“I’ve got to get back downstairs,” Erin said. “I don’t think you could’ve seen a wolf, though. Not here. But just in case, I want you kids to stay within sight of the cabin, hear? Don’t go wandering off. And keep a close eye on Lily.”

“It was a wolf,” Drew insisted, his voice following her down the stairs. “And it had something dead in its mouth, like a big rabbit. Tyler saw it, too.”

On the main floor, Lily stood by the stairs, her eyes darting toward the large casement windows of the great room. “The men say it’s true,” she whispered. “There are wolves here…and you can’t shoot ’em, ’cause they’re pro—pro—”

“Protected, unless you can prove that one of them is killing livestock,” one of the men said as he backed into the living room holding one end of a sofa. “They were reintroduced in the north country ten years ago, and they’ve been ranging farther and farther south.”

Erin thought about the half-mile lane to this cabin, and the fact that there were no close neighbors…and no friends nearby to call in an emergency.

The idea of a dog—a very big dog—suddenly held far more appeal.

CHAPTER TWO

BEING A NEW KID SUCKED. Being a new kid who showed up a week after school started was ten times worse.

Drew scowled at the tips of his sneakers as he waited with Tyler outside the elementary school. Lily sat on a bench behind them, her face glum.

A cabin in the woods was pretty cool, but not enough to make this any easier. Back in Milwaukee, he and Tyler had lived in a tough neighborhood where there were sirens and drug busts night and day, but at least he’d had friends. In Wausau with Erin, they’d finally started to feel at home.

But here the local kids had known each other all their lives and were already settled into the school routine.

Lily, with her white-blond hair and shy smiles, had a better chance of fitting in with kids anywhere, though the meaner ones usually made fun of her weak leg. Tyler got sick a lot and was small for his age, so classmates tried to pick on him. And Drew had never been good at sports or schoolwork, because just surviving had been tough enough.

He gazed at his brother, and thought about the nasty glances in the lunchroom. The snickers out on the playground.

Fed up, he’d shouldered one kid aside as they lined up to go back inside after recess, just as a warning.

He hoped the kids here learned quick. Anyone who thought it cool to hassle his brother or taunt Lily about her limp would have to deal with him. And then he’d end up in trouble himself, like always—with the usual lectures and detentions that had dogged him at every school.

“It’s Erin,” Tyler announced, his voice filled with relief at the sight of her navy Windstar pulling up in front of the school. He hopped off the bench and stood next to Drew. “Don’t say nothing ’bout school.”

Oh, I won’t, Drew thought grimly. To Tyler, he just nodded.

Erin smiled at them as they climbed into the van and buckled their seat belts. “So how did your first day go?”

“Okay,” Lily murmured.

In the backseat, Tyler and Drew exchanged glances.

“Boys?”

Drew caught her looking at them in the rearview mirror, her brow furrowed. She seemed tired and worried, and he wondered if she’d had a bad day, too. Only where she worked, she was the boss—so she could fire anybody who gave her any crap. The thought of that kind of power made Drew clench his fist, thinking of a few guys at school.

When she didn’t pull away from the curb, he finally mumbled, “It was okay. I guess.”

“Good.” She drummed her fingers lightly on the top of the steering wheel. “You know, I was thinking…we worked so hard this weekend, getting moved in. Maybe we could do something fun. Unless, of course,” she added somberly, “you have too much homework.”

Lily beamed at her. “Nope!”

“It isn’t really the first day, though—the other kids have been at it a week now. What sort of makeup assignments do you have so far?”

“Just some reading…and a math assignment. Not much,” she said earnestly. “It won’t take long.”

“Tyler?”

“Just some work sheets.”

“Drew?”

He couldn’t hold back his snort of disgust. “Another one of those ‘what did you do last summer?’ papers. And a bunch of work sheets, but they aren’t due till Friday.”

“Hmm.”

“So, what did you want to do, huh?” Lily tugged at Erin’s sleeve. “We got time.”

Smiling mysteriously, Erin drove slowly down Main and pulled up in front of the Realtor’s building. “Just wait a minute.”

She locked their doors and disappeared inside the building, but was back in only a few seconds. “No luck,” she said as she slid behind the wheel. “I don’t have a phone number for the owner of our cabin and I’d hoped the Realtor might have heard from him by now.”

“About a dog?”

Erin nodded. “I’m sorry, guys. I’d hoped we could go looking today. Anyone up for getting some pizza before we head out of town?”

Scowling, Drew slumped down in his seat. Promises. They never meant much—he’d learned that a long time ago.

“DO YOU NEED ANYTHING else?” The slender young woman shot a surreptitious glance at her wristwatch as she hesitated at the door of Erin’s office. Eager, Erin knew, to race out the front door of Blackberry Hill Memorial to meet her boyfriend, who lingered at the curb in his red Mustang every day at noon.

“I think I’ve got enough for now, Beth,” Erin said dryly, waving a hand over the stack of files on her desk. “Check in with me when you get back.”

“Madge is back from lunch, so I’ll let her know what you’ve been doing, just in case you need anything.” Beth waggled her fingers and hurried down the hallway, her heels clicking against the polished terrazzo floor.

Sighing, Erin rounded her desk and shut the door, then continued looking through the files. She’d known that the hospital was in trouble before accepting the job. Now, on her fourth day here, she was learning just how much. The picture was bleak.

With operating losses exceeding twelve percent of patient revenue, and fewer than eight hundred admissions per year, there were definite challenges ahead. And on the second Thursday of October, she’d be standing before the board to explain what was wrong and how she planned to fix it.

No small task, she thought grimly, flipping through another file.

This was her first time at the helm, and success here would mean she could move upward if this town didn’t suit. Failure would dog her forever and limit her chances at making a good, secure living for her children.

At a soft rap on the door, she glanced up. “Come in,” she called out, “it’s open.”

Madge Wheeler bustled in, her bulky frame encased in a heavy, hand-knit red sweater and plaid skirt. Sparkly crystal earrings dangled beneath a cloud of curly gray hair. “Beth told me to drop in.”

“Thanks. I do have a few questions.” Erin tipped her head toward the stack of employee files. “How long have you been here?”

Madge pulled a chair up to the front edge of Erin’s desk. “It’s all there. I started here as a teenager, helping in the kitchen. Worked my way into the front office, from receptionist to clerk, and after thirty years, I became the office manager.”

“And Grace Fisher?”

“Director of nursing for thirty-five years. Retiring this year, she says, though she’s been saying that for a while now and she never gets around to it.” Madge’s voice was filled with pride. “This hospital has continuity. None of those fly-by-night employees here today, gone tomorrow. We have good people and they stay. Newest one on the payroll is the Baxter girl, just out of high school, but the average employee has been here for seventeen years. I know, because I wrote up a report for the hospital’s fiftieth anniversary last year.”

Erin frowned. “I need to meet with you and Grace soon—tomorrow, if possible. I also need to have a meeting with the medical staff. Can you set up a date?”

Madge pursed her lips. “Something wrong?”

Nothing that more patients and fewer employees couldn’t cure, but given the small town and the longevity of the staff, change wasn’t going to be easy.

“I know you and Grace have been here a long time—you two are the true experts on the hospital and what makes it tick. I’m sure you’re both aware that we’ve got to look for ways to turn this place around, or it could go under.”

Madge’s expression grew wary. “A town this size isn’t ever going to have a big city hospital. No one expects that here.”

“But the board does expect it to break even. If it folds, and the entire patient load goes to Henderson Regional, this town will lose a very important public service for young and old alike.”

“True…”

“I’m counting on you and Grace to work with me as a team. I want this place to succeed just as much as you do.” Erin picked up a pile of papers and tapped them into a neat stack. “I want to find effective solutions. Ones that will protect jobs here and provide better service to the community.”

The older woman drew herself up. “Mr. Randall ran a tight ship,” she huffed. “We never had a penny missing, and he was well liked in this town.”

But that didn’t make him a good manager. From what Erin had found so far, it appeared that her predecessor had spent more time socializing on the golf course than tending to business. She’d called a number of times to ask questions before taking this job, and quickly realized that he came in late and left early, and also seemed to have a lot of “business lunches.”

“I’m sure he did well,” Erin said carefully. “But sometimes a little change is a good thing, don’t you think?”

“I’ll continue to do my best,” Madge said stiffly as she rose to her feet. “Grace has the day off tomorrow, but I’m sure she can meet with us Monday.”

“Sounds good.”

“The doctors have a weekly breakfast at Ollie’s Diner on Thursday mornings, so that might be a good place to meet them. Otherwise, trying to find a time when they could all be at the hospital together would likely set back your meeting a good three weeks.”

“Isn’t a diner a little too public?”

Madge waved away her concern. “They always use the booth at the back, past the ice machine and the bathrooms. No one could listen in even if they wanted to.” She tapped her pencil against her front teeth. “I’ll go do some calling and make sure they all plan to meet next week.”

“That would be fine. Thanks.” Erin watched the woman leave, then flipped open another file and began poring over the names and numbers before her.

Of the seven board members, Hadley had been the most supportive of her, Dr. Olson had been rather cool and Dr. Anderson had been openly dubious about her qualifications. The mayor and the others had been more enthusiastic.

Erin would succeed at revitalizing the Blackberry Hill hospital whether or not she had full cooperation from everyone involved, but so far, it wasn’t looking like an easy job.

And with a family to support, she couldn’t afford to fail.

STARING OUT AT THE BRIGHT Saturday morning sunshine, Connor Reynolds whistled to his old yellow lab, Maisie, and waited until he heard her toenails click across the kitchen flooring before he opened the door wide for her to join him on the porch.

He took a deep breath, smelling pine and damp earth. Peace. Quiet. Here, he had complete solitude, except for the dog and a few larks trilling from the tops of the pine trees surrounding his house.

The days were long. The nights…longer. But despite everything that had happened, at least he had this, and life was good. At last.

The sudden jolt from the past—seeing Stephanie’s studious little cousin a week ago—had startled him, bringing back too many unwanted memories, and the irony of seeing Erin with three beautiful, healthy children had reopened old wounds. He hadn’t even trusted himself to speak.

After graduating from medical school, he’d worked tirelessly to establish a successful practice. Tried so hard to make his marriage work. Imagined a home bustling with children and a wife who loved him. Who would have guessed quiet little Erin would end up with the richer life?

Or that she would have changed so much. He remembered her as a petite little thing with glasses and her brown hair pulled back into a severe ponytail. Now, her hair was very short, accenting her big brown eyes and delicate features—like a young Audrey Hepburn in blue jeans. She couldn’t be more different from Stephanie’s blond, hard-edged sophistication.

With luck Erin was just passing through town. He didn’t need a constant reminder of how he’d failed.

Reaching down to stroke the dog’s soft coat, he stepped off the porch and started toward his favorite trail at a jog, Maisie at his side.

Already the leaves were turning, the dark pines a perfect foil for the splashes of crimson and orange of the maples, the bright yellow of the aspens. The bowed grass was slick with first frost; the damp earth and fallen pine needles released their heady perfume as he ran.

The crisp, early September air burned in his lungs as he continued up the track, dodging rough-edged boulders and fallen trees.

At the top of the rugged, rocky slope above his property he stopped briefly to let the old dog catch her breath.

It was his favorite place, this craggy peak. An hour or so to the east lay the Upper Peninsula of Michigan. To the north, Canada. There was almost a holy atmosphere here, with a view of thousands of acres of pine forest and lakes in every direction. The vast reaches of northern Wisconsin made him feel small. Inconsequential. Made his past seem like nothing more than a minor flaw in the cosmos. Here, he—

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 confident 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 parenting 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?”

After another few minutes of conversation, Marcia cradled the receiver and grinned up at Erin. “There’s a base receiver in her living room, and she carries an emergency alarm on a cord around her neck. I’m not sure if she really worries that much about the dust or if it’s an excuse to talk to us, but she sets off that alarm every Tuesday morning, and almost at the same time. If we ever didn’t hear from her, we’d worry.”

“Sounds like you know her well.”

Marcia smiled. “In this town, we know everyone well. Frieda’s ninety-six, still does her own housework and she’s sharp as a tack. We should all be so lucky.”

Erin glanced at the chart rack along the back of the station. This morning, eight of the charts bore name labels. Not many, given the number of available beds. “How is everything going down here?”

“Three patients in the E.R. last night—one asthma, a broken wrist and a chest pain. Dr. Olson was on call.”

“Anyone admitted?”

Marcia chuckled. “Not on his watch—unless you’re about dead.” She ran a finger down a clipboard in front of her. “The Paulson boy has been discharged and will be going home this afternoon. Frank Willoughby will probably be going back to the nursing home after the radiologist reads his chest X-rays tomorrow.”

“He had pneumonia, right?”

“Yep. A double, but he’s doing really well.” The blonde smiled. “He’s the first patient the new doctor has admitted since he took over for Hadley on Monday. Nice guy.”

“Oh?”

“Definitely the strong and silent type—and man, those gorgeous eyes…” Her voice drifted off in pure appreciation. “Like a guy would ever need those lashes, you know? It just isn’t fair.”

“Really,” Erin said dryly.

The nurse’s eyes flew open and she blushed. “Um…sorry.”

“No problem. Have you seen Grace this morning?”

“On Wednesdays she usually comes around ten and stays until seven. Should I leave her a message?”

“I’ll just catch her later, but thanks.”

Erin moved on down the hallway, inspecting the terrazzo for dust and the door frames for paint chips and scratches. At the far end, she pushed through the double doors marked E.R.—Staff Only and found the hospital’s third-shift housekeeper industriously attacking the gleaming floor with long swipes of her mop.

From her employee file, Erin knew Mrs. Banks was a widow of nearly seventy, but from all reports she still considered the hospital’s cleanliness her mission in life, and had no intention of slowing down. According to Madge, she often talked to people who weren’t there, and rarely deigned to speak to people who were, but that disconcerting tendency had never affected her efficiency.

“You’re doing a fine job,” Erin called out to her.

The woman glanced over her shoulder and nodded as she mopped her way past the admissions desk.

Carl Miller, the hospital’s only male nurse, glanced up from the chart he was working on at the desk and smiled.

“Did you have a busy night?” Erin asked.

He peered at her over his glasses. “Yes, but that makes the time go faster…or so they say.”

“What do you do when it’s slow?”

“With all the regulations these days, there’s never enough time to catch up on documentation. Believe me.”

“Is the staffing adequate?”

“No, but what place can afford that? We all pitch in, and Grace does call in an extra nurse if the census goes high enough.”

Erin moved past the desk and peered into the exam rooms, one by one. “Tell me—if you could write up a wish list, what would it be?” she called out to him.

“New state-of-the-art crash carts, fully stocked,” he replied without hesitation, his voice edged in sarcasm. “A new cardiac monitoring system for the E.R. and hospital side. New beds and new mattresses for every room. A new PACS system, for digitalized X-rays. But of course, I’m dreaming.”

At the sound of footsteps behind her, she turned. Connor Reynolds was coming down the aisle. “Good list,” he said. “Personally, I’d add a larger MRI, a dialysis unit and a wellness program. That’s just for starters.”

Erin ignored the heightened awareness she felt at the sound of his voice. Awareness? How about hunger, just simple hunger. With the ruckus at home, she hadn’t had time for breakfast, and after her morning walk-through, she really needed to grab something from one of the snack machines in the staff lounge. “I couldn’t agree more. If money wasn’t an issue, those items would all be part of a very long list.”

“There are ways,” he countered. “Rental programs. Grants. Building a bequest program.” A faint smile played across his sensual mouth. “Bake sales.”

“I’ll keep all that in mind.”

When he walked past her, his dry glance suggested he didn’t believe change was possible at Blackberry Hill Memorial.

Feeling a flash of irritation, she watched him disappear into a patient room. Just wait, she said under her breath, wishing not for the first time that she was five inches taller and had a far more imposing demeanor.

Like her three sisters, she’d been gifted with her family’s genetic heritage for fine bones, which apparently made men think she was helpless, and she had the pixie sort of face that made them assume she couldn’t think for herself. That she’d been a tomboy, ran on the track team in high school and had taken more self-defense classes than she could count had never given her the aura of strength she’d like to project.

Nodding at Carl, she turned to go.

“Carl—come in here, stat.” Connor’s sharp voice cut through the silence.

Surprised, she looked over her shoulder and saw Carl hurry into room 22. A split second later he darted back out, grabbed the electronic blood pressure unit sitting in the hallway, and pushed it into the room.

Frank Willoughby’s room, she remembered. A sweet old guy and a favorite with the nurses, from what she’d heard. Please, Lord, let him be all right.

But one minute stretched to three, then five. No code blue, no rush for equipment or race to surgery.

Walking over to the nurses’ station, she looked at the shelves of patient charts. On the spine of Willoughby’s there was a bright orange DNR—Do Not Resuscitate—sticker, so there hadn’t been an option to call a code blue.

She knew, even before Carl came out and shook his head, that Frank was gone.

His expression grim, Carl settled down at the phone to make the usual calls to family members, the nursing home and the mortuary designated on the face sheet of the chart.

Erin moved to the doorway of the old man’s room and found Connor in a chair by the bed, his head bowed and his hands clasped loosely between his knees.

He glanced up at her. “Lost him. His last X-ray showed a lot of improvement, and he was on the verge of being discharged. But with his overall health and age, he’d signed the Do Not Resuscitate forms.”

“I’m sorry.” Erin stepped inside the room. “Was it his pneumonia, do you think?”

“That, or his heart, or any number of other things. He had a diagnosis list a mile long. But dammit, he was doing well last night. If I could have coded him…” Connor shook his head as he stood and smoothed back the old man’s wispy hair. “He swore he planned to beat me at a round of golf the day he was discharged, and I bet he would have, if either of us actually knew how to play.” Connor straightened the man’s gown, then pulled the blanket up. “He teased me about that, too. Said he didn’t think it was natural that a doctor didn’t play golf.”

The emotion in Connor’s voice touched her. “Will there be an autopsy?”

“Doubt it. He was ninety-three, he had chronic health problems. He was hospitalized for pneumonia. In cases like this one, the coroner usually just goes ahead and releases the body to the funeral home.”

She knew that was true. “Sorry—I hear he’s your first admission to this hospital.”

With a heavy sigh, Connor settled back in his chair. “You never get used to this.”

“Are you staying here awhile?”

“As long as I can—hopefully, until his family arrives. I don’t need to be at the clinic until nine. I asked Carl to call the chaplain, so he’ll be here, as well.”

Surprised, Erin stepped out of the room and headed down the hall toward the main lobby and her office.

Death was a given in a hospital setting. Healthy people weren’t admitted, and despite the very best of care and technology, not everyone made it. Most doctors and nurses eventually developed a level of professional distance, trying to protect themselves from the pain of losing a patient, and Connor’s reaction was unusual.

She recalled the man she’d known during her college days. His cool, sophisticated manner. His bored indifference.

So who would’ve guessed he actually did have a heart?

DREW KICKED A ROCK into the ditch as the big yellow school bus pulled away. “This sucks. Two whole days until the weekend!”

“At least we get to ride a real school bus home now. That’s cool.” Tyler hurried to catch up, tugging on his sleeve as a reminder that Lily was lagging behind. They both turned to see her bent over something in the ditch.

“Come on,” Drew shouted impatiently. “You can pick some stupid flowers at home.”

“Isn’t flowers. Come here, quick!”

Drew rolled his eyes at Tyler. “Like I’m gonna care about this.” But he headed back anyway, through the chest-high weeds in the ditch, with Tyler at his heels.

His heart flopped like a fish on a hook when he saw what she was looking at.

A black-and-white-spotted dog.

More of a half-grown puppy, really, with huge dark eyes, silky ears and soft wavy hair. Its ribs and hip bones stuck out and its long pink tongue lolled from its panting mouth. Clumps of dried mud covered its legs.

“Ooh,” he breathed as he sank to his knees next to the cowering animal. “How’d it get here?”

Tyler hovered over his shoulder. “Is he hurt? Maybe he got hit by a car.”

Lily shook her head. “I touched him and he didn’t whimper. I think he’s just lost and scared. I think we should take him home.”

The three looked at each other.

“Erin did say we could get a dog,” Tyler murmured.

Drew fought a smile. “And that man said it was okay.”

“Maybe he belongs to someone, though. Someone who misses him a lot,” Lily said sadly. “Wouldn’t be fair.”

“What if we put up a notice?” Imagining a very small notice, maybe just one of them, tacked to that telephone pole across the street, Drew stroked the dog. He felt knots of brambles tangled in its coat. “But I don’t think the owner cares much—just look at how bad his fur is. No one has brushed this poor guy in a long time.”

Lily sighed with joy. “We could name him… Buttercup!”

Drew shuddered. “Or Bruno.”

“Or Scout, because he was looking for a new home,” Tyler ventured.

“C’mon—maybe he’ll follow us.”

They scrambled out of the ditch, all calling to him, but the puppy hung back, whimpering, then crept farther into the weeds.

“He’s too scared,” Lily whispered. “We need a leash.”

Drew surveyed all three of their backpacks for any straps that could be detached, then scanned the ground. “Maybe we can take turns carrying him. If he’ll let us.”

Drew struggled back through the tall weeds and knelt by the shivering pup. “Come on, Bruno.”

The puppy had such fear in his eyes that a lump grew in Drew’s throat and hot tears prickled beneath his eyelids.

“I know, buddy,” he said softly, remembering his mother’s belt and explosive temper. He never let anyone see the scars on his back from the lash of that belt buckle, but even now he could feel the pain and the terror. Her boyfriend’s fists had been worse. “I’ve been real scared sometimes, too.”

He held out a hand, palm up, until the puppy belly-crawled forward a few inches. “Would you rather be Scout?” He laughed a little as the pup nuzzled his fingers. “That must be a yes.”

Gathering the puppy in his arms, he scrambled back to his feet and made his way up onto the road through the treacherous underbrush, stumbling under the weight of the dog.

Breathless, he grinned at Tyler and Lily. “He’s happy, I think. Let’s go.”

After a few hundred feet, Drew handed him over to Tyler, then Lily took a turn. By the time they reached the turnoff for their cabin, Drew’s feet hurt and his throat felt dry as sandpaper. He’d ended up carrying the dog most of the way, and now it felt twice as heavy as it had at first. At the sound of a car coming up the road, he turned eagerly to flag Erin down.

It wasn’t her minivan, darn it—it was Dr. Reynolds’s black Tahoe. Disappointed, Drew turned back toward home, but the vehicle pulled up beside them, and Reynolds rolled down his window. “I see you three got your dog.”

“Sorta,” Tyler said. “We kinda found h—”

“Yeah, we got a dog,” Drew interrupted, elbowing Tyler in the ribs. “Come on, Ty. Let’s go.”

But Lily was too far away to silence.

“We found him in the ditch by the highway,” she piped up. “We named him Scout.”

Reynolds frowned. “He’s probably just lost. Does he have tags?”

“He doesn’t have no collar,” Drew said quickly. “And he’s skinny, like he’s been starving. He doesn’t have a home.”

“And he’s full of brambles,” Lily added.

“Just don’t get your hopes up too high.” The man had sunglasses on, but a corner of his mouth sort of curved up, as if he was almost going to smile. “You kids know you shouldn’t ever go with strangers, but can I give you a ride up to your house? You’ve had a long walk up here with that dog.”

Lily nodded and started to speak, but Drew gave a sharp jerk of his head and cut her short. “No. We can almost see our house from here.”

“I understand. You’re a good big brother, kid.” He twisted in the front seat to reach for something in the back, then stepped out of his car with a leather leash. “You can keep this—it might help a little.”

“Thanks,” Drew mumbled as the man fashioned a loop at one end and slipped it over Scout’s neck.

“I’m no vet, but I think this guy needs a thorough exam, his vaccinations and a good worming.” Reynolds ran a practiced hand over the dog’s thin body. “If he has a home, it sure isn’t a good one. What do you think your mom is going to say about this?”

“She said we could get a dog,” Lily said shyly.

“And now we have one that’s free!” Tyler added with an exuberant victory punch in the air.

“Good luck.” Reynolds paused at the open door of his vehicle and gave Drew a level look that said, Don’t get your hopes up, kid.

“Jeez,” Drew muttered irritably after the black SUV headed on up the hill. “Why don’t you guys tell the whole world that we found a stray?”

Tyler’s wide grin faded. “He’s our neighbor.”

“But did you hear what he said? I bet he’s gonna ask everyone he sees in town, and then for sure someone will come after Scout!”

He curved his arms a little tighter around the dog, and immediately Scout gave him a slurpy kiss up the side of his face.

There was no way anyone was going to take this dog away, he vowed silently. No way at all.

CHAPTER FIVE

“PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE,” Lily begged. “We gotta keep him. Someone prob’ly just dumped him out on the road and left him to starve!”

Erin surveyed the three children standing on the porch above her, and adjusted the shoulder strap of her purse. “Let’s talk about this inside, okay?”

They parted like the Red Sea for her to pass, Drew clutching the puppy to his chest, his mouth curled mutinously, Lily’s face a mask of desperate hope and Tyler… His expression alone would have melted the coldest heart. Clearly, he’d already decided that the situation was hopeless, and the sadness in his eyes made her own burn.

“I’m not an ogre, you know.” She smiled as she hoisted her sack of groceries and her purse onto the kitchen counter. “I did promise you could get a dog. I was hoping we could go on Saturday.”

“But this one needs us,” Lily persisted. “We wanted a dog, and this one just appeared. It’s like it was meant to be.”

Erin reached out to stroke the dog’s damp, silky head. He smelled suspiciously like her twelve-dollars-a-bottle shampoo, and a glance toward the kitchen revealed a very wet floor littered with her best company towels.

“He’s darling. But what if there are kids just like you who are crying over their lost friend?”

Tyler bit his lower lip. “We figured we could post some notices.”

“Yeah. I could do that,” Drew said quickly. “All over.”

“If someone loved him, how come he’s so skinny?” Lily reached out and ran her hand along his ribs. “Just look. And he was covered with burrs, and one of his paws had dry blood on it. Anyway, there aren’t even any houses close to here, ’cept the man up on the hill.”

“And he already saw Scout, and he didn’t say anything about not letting us keep him here,” Drew added triumphantly.

“Connor—Dr. Reynolds—was here?”

“Just on the road.” Drew felt his smile droop into a scowl. “I don’t like him much.”

Erin’s senses sharpened. “Why do you say that?” she asked, carefully keeping her tone neutral.

“He kept saying stuff like we shouldn’t be disappointed, because Scout probably has a home. I bet he hopes it’s true!”

Erin’s heart tightened. “Maybe he was just trying to help.”

“So can we keep Scout? Please?”

She gave a distracted wave. “We’ll see. I’ll, um, call the animal shelter, and put an ad in the local paper.”

Tyler blanched. “An ad? For everyone to see?”

“Honey, wouldn’t that be fair? What if you lost a dog you loved very much? You’d always wonder and worry about what happened to him.”

The children’s expressions fell into deep despair.

“There’s always the possibility that someone just dumped him on the side of the road, though,” she added. “People can be very cruel, or ignorant—they think it’s better than taking a pet to the shelter, and never consider that the animal may starve or be injured. If no one claims this guy, we’ll keep him. If someone does, we’ll go to the shelter and find another dog. I promise.”

While she put away groceries and started supper, she watched them through the kitchen window.

Lily, the limp from her poorly repaired clubfoot so much more noticeable when she tried to run with the pup, beamed with a joy that lit up her sweet face.

Drew so rarely smiled, but now his shouts of laughter echoed through the meadow. And Tyler had for these past few moments seemed like any other carefree child you’d see playing in a backyard, instead of one who’d lived through hell. Please, Lord, let this dog stay with us, she whispered.

Bracing her hands on the sink, Erin closed her eyes and rolled her head from side to side, working out the tension in her neck.

No easy day, this. Poor Frank Willoughby—who’d been on the verge of discharge—should have been back at the nursing home with his wife by now, eating supper. And Connor…

Ignoring the uneasy feeling in her stomach, Erin washed her hands, unwrapped a pound of ground beef and began forming patties.

She’d never expected to run into Connor, much less end up as his neighbor, but she’d made a promise to Stephanie and she planned to keep it.

Even if her premonition of trouble was growing with each passing day.

CONNOR GRIMACED as he hesitated at the door of Ollie’s Diner on Thursday morning, even as the aromas of bacon and coffee and hot, caramel-drenched cinnamon rolls beckoned.

When deciding to come up to Blackberry Hill, he’d planned to cover Ed’s clinic, take good care of the patients and spend the rest of his time in blessed solitude up on Hadley’s Mountain. He’d sworn not to become involved in local hospital politics.

God knew he just wanted to be left alone, especially after the incident at the hospital in Green Bay.

But Grace Fisher—an unopposable force if there ever was one—and his own deceptively sweet office nurse, Linda, had conspired against him, and here he was, walking into a meeting he’d planned to avoid.

Sighing heavily, he stepped inside the small entryway and right into the 1940s. On one side, red vinyl stools faced the long lunch counter with its old-fashioned soda fountain, while high-backed booths lined the other, and Formica-topped tables filled the space between. War posters, antique kitchen utensils and curling vintage calendars covered the walls.

Every available seat was taken, and the din from clinking china, bustling waitresses and the lively conversation of patrons was nearly deafening. He scanned the room for a familiar face.

Guess not. Smiling to himself, he turned to go.

“Wait,” a deep voice boomed from the rear of the room. “Come on back—we’re right here!”

All conversation ceased. All eyes turned to the entryway. Feeling like a burglar caught in the act, Connor stopped and looked over his shoulder. Arnold Olson, a local family-practice GP, waved vigorously from an arched doorway at the far end of the diner. Behind him, Connor glimpsed the edge of a booth set apart from the others.

Wishing he’d moved to the door a little faster, Connor made his way through the crowded room, nodding to the tables full of people welcoming him every step of the way.

“Hey, Doc—I seen your picture in the paper,” called one beaming, white-haired old gent in overalls and a red flannel shirt. “Mighty glad to have you here while Hadley’s gone!”

Clapping him on the shoulder, Connor sidestepped between the last set of tables and a waitress laden with an armload of overflowing plates.

“Good to see you again,” murmured Leland Anderson, a thin, fastidious GP from nearby Portville. He sat in the booth next to Arnold, whose belly barely fit behind the table.

Dr. Jill Edwards, a brunette with her hair caught in a classy twist, glanced up at Connor as she started to slide out of the booth. “Hi, Connor. If you’re joining everyone here, you can have my place. I need to meet my husband.”

“Hold on, you can’t go yet. We won’t have a quorum,” Arnold snorted. He waved impatiently at Connor. “Come on, pull up a chair. Your opinion is important, too.”

Connor grabbed an empty chair from a table in the main dining area and brought it to the back booth. Only then did he notice Erin in the corner, her short, dark hair gleaming in the dim light and her delicate features nearly hidden in the shadows as she studied the documents on the table in front of her.

He caught unexpected surprise—and wariness—in her eyes when she finally looked up at him.

“Connor. How…nice of you to join us.”

Wariness? Where the hell did that come from? Then again, she’d been distantly related to Stephanie and would have known her parents. He could well imagine what Regina and Victor would have said about him to anyone who would listen.

Erin glanced at her watch, then picked up the stack of papers in front of her and tapped them into a neat pile. “We were just talking about the needs of the staff and patients at the hospital.”

“And possible ways to improve its financial outlook,” Jill added. “With exponentially rising costs and decreasing revenue, the board has some grim projections for the future.”

“You mentioned an MRI unit,” Erin said, lifting a cool gaze to meet Connor’s. “And a dialysis program.”

“That’s impossible,” Arnold blustered. “We don’t have the facility, we don’t have the patient base. And we sure as hell don’t have the money.”

“Most things are possible,” Erin countered. “It just depends on the level of community support, and how hard people are willing to work for it to happen.”

“Equipment costs are astronomical,” Leland pointed out, wiping his fingertips on a napkin. “You’d need additional trained staff, yet I hear you’re already looking at cutting hours.”

“I am,” she said slowly, “looking at every conceivable way to operate the hospital with greater efficiency, in ways that will ensure the viability of this facility—and this community—in years to come. When I’m fully prepared, I’ll present my findings and my recommendations to the board. That’s why I want to involve all of you. As physicians with hospital privileges, you’ve seen what works and what doesn’t, and know what you need to practice medicine most efficiently.”

Mollified, Leland leaned back. “Then you must know that in the past grand ideas have proven to be great mistakes. Very great.”

Connor fought a smile as he listened to Erin calmly meet one question after another. He was strangely proud of her fast, intelligent responses and her patience with even the most pointed of Leland’s queries.

The Erin he remembered from college had been a shy little thing—lost in Stephanie’s overpowering shadow. That certainly wasn’t the case anymore.

“So,” she continued, “I’d like you all to develop a list of improvements the hospital needs. Equipment, remodeling, new programs you feel would be of benefit to your patients. We’re already into September, and I’d like to campaign for a tax levy. We need to bring this hospital into the twenty-first century.”

Arnold gave a dismissive wave of his hand. “The elections are in November.”

“And likely too soon for us to campaign heavily enough to convince the voters. If it doesn’t appear possible, we could have the proposal withdrawn and request a special election. I’m also looking into some grants, and guaranteed low interest loans being offered to health care institutions by the government.”

“We’ve gotten along before now,” he retorted. “What’s the rush?”

“The hospital, along with the schools here, are a key element of this town’s future. Arnold and Leland, you’re both on the board. You know that there have been concerns about the budget.”

“This is a very small community, Mrs. Lang.” Leland gave her a bored look. “There isn’t a lot of extra money. We’ve even had trouble making payroll from time to time.”

She dropped her attention to the papers in front of her and ran a slender forefinger down a column of numbers on the top sheet. “And if the hospital goes under, there are going to be nearly a hundred full-time, part-time and pool employees without jobs. People who may need to move elsewhere, taking their schoolchildren, their purchasing power and their tax dollars with them.”

“It’s worth looking into, don’t you think?” Jill argued. “We’ve lost a lot of business to Henderson Regional. They offer more services, even if they are farther away.” She glanced at the two older doctors across the table. “People moving into a community want to be assured of good schools and good medical care. If we can’t offer them, the town loses. And we can’t afford that.”

Leland polished his coffee spoon with a napkin, his brow furrowed. “You weren’t here back in ’95. Big plans—everything fell through. People lost money and they lost faith.”

“I’m not looking at finding a few big private investors,” Erin said quietly. “Fund-raising options will be important—but this won’t be the type of situation you experienced before.”

Arnold studied her for a moment, his eyes narrowed. Then he threw up his hands. “Hell, I’m not going to be around here much longer. Should have retired five years ago and moved to Florida after my wife died. If you want to give this a try, more power to you—and I’ll do what I can.”

“I agree.” Jill stood and gave Erin a wink. “Go for it, and we’ll start working on a proposal for you to look over. Connor?”

“If you want the hospital to be competitive, you’ll need to update the equipment and the physical plant. It should have been done years ago.” He shrugged. “I won’t be around long enough to see it happen, but you certainly have my support.”

“Leland?”

Placing his spoon neatly across the saucer in front of him, he raised a brow. “It wouldn’t hurt to look into this further, I suppose. The doctor’s lounge has certainly been a disgrace for the past twenty years or more.”

Erin’s hands tensed on her coffee cup, but she merely gave the older man a nod.

Leland’s mouth softened into a faint smile. “Good, then. We’ll get back to you, say…by the 25th of the month?”

“How about the 18th, right here. We’ll have more time to take action—especially if we need to petition for a special election.”

“We’ll try.” Jill waved and headed for the door. Arnold and Leland followed, leaving Erin sitting in the booth, an elbow propped on the table and her forehead resting in her palm.

Connor hesitated. “Headache?”

She started, then gave him an embarrassed look. “I, um, thought you’d all left.”

“On my way.” He grabbed the back of his chair and shoved it toward the neighboring table. “Ambitious plans you have here. For a newcomer and all.”

“It’s my job, and I need to do it well.”

The determination in her voice was unmistakable, and he thought back to the evening he’d stopped by the cabin. He’d seen the kids and her, but no evidence of another adult. Certainly not a second car. “Your husband…”

“My ex is back in Wausau.” Her mouth quirked at one corner. “Enjoying midlife freedom with a girl half his age, who probably ought to take a closer look at the kind of guy she ‘won,’ bless her.”

Connor cleared his throat. “It can’t be easy for you, so far from town—with a full-time job and three kids. If you need to break the lease on your house…or if you want to be closer to town…”

“Actually, I couldn’t be happier.” She briskly tucked her documents and calculator into a portfolio, dropped a five-dollar bill on the table and slid out of the booth. Standing in high heels, she barely came up to Connor’s shoulder. “Thank you for joining us this morning, Doctor.”

She gave him a brief, businesslike smile and strode for the door without a backward glance. If he’d had a communicable illness, she couldn’t have seemed more eager to escape.

Shaking his head, he made his way through the crowded room. She didn’t need to worry.

Stephanie’s family had shunned him ever since her death, and he had no wish to reestablish a connection with any of them now. He had no intentions of starting any personal relationships, either. He’d been down that road already, and it sure hadn’t been a success.

Erin was simply a link to his past, nothing more.

GRACE RUBBED THE BACK of her neck as she stepped out of the pharmacy department, pulled the door shut and started down the administrative hallway toward the front desk. Another long day…and she felt it in every joint. At the door of George’s old office she slowed to glance inside, then stopped and rapped on the frame when she saw Erin at her computer.

“It’s four-thirty—don’t you usually head home now?” The girl looked drawn, and Grace’s bone-deep instincts for mothering kicked into high gear. “This will all wait.”

Erin looked up at the clock on the wall. “Guess I’d better. The kids have been home for a half hour already.” She closed out of the Excel program on her screen, shut down the computer and retrieved her purse from a file drawer. “They called me the minute they got home, but I still don’t feel comfortable having them there alone for very long.”

“They’re what—fourth and fifth graders?”

“Tyler’s in first, Lily’s in fourth and Drew is a fifth grader.”

“So they should do okay then—lots of kids manage alone for a while if their parents work.”

“It still makes me nervous. Until yesterday I was taking them to and from school, but Drew totally rebelled over that. He said he’d taken care of his brother for years just fine, thank you very much, and that they all thought the bus would be fun. So yesterday, we tried using the bus after school—and the driver left them out way down on the highway.” Erin shuddered. “Heaven knows who could see them out there, alone—and the walk home is a good mile. That’s too far for Lily.”

Remembering that fragile child, with her awkward limp, Grace nodded, feeling instant sympathy for the young woman shuffling the papers on her desk into some semblance of order.

“So the bus driver agreed to take them right up to our door from now on.” Erin stuffed some files and her planner into a battered leather briefcase, then gave an agitated wave of her hand. “We’re giving this idea a trial run—but the first sign of trouble, and they’ll be going to a sitter after school.”

“There could be another option.” Grace studied her thoughtfully. “Do you know Jane Adams, one of the nursing assistants on third shift? She has five kids including a daughter who’s a senior in high school, and her husband is disabled. I’ll bet Haley could use some extra spending money. They’re good people. Trustworthy.”

Erin’s face lit up. “Really? I’ve been asking around, trying to find a dependable high school student, but haven’t had any luck. They’re all either busy with after-school activities or have jobs already.”

“I remember those days well. It’s hard to find good sitters—and then they finish school, leave town, and you have to start all over.”

Erin cocked her head slightly, then faint color washed into her pale cheeks, and Grace chuckled. “No, you’re right. I’m still ‘Miss Fisher,’ but I had dozens of foster kids over the years.”

“That’s amazing.” Erin’s voice was filled with admiration. “You’ve been a busy woman.”

“And enjoyed every minute. I’m past those days, though. Raised my last set of kids a few years back, and now I’m looking forward to retiring from here soon.” Ignoring the wave of loneliness that always rushed through her at the thought, she gave an offhand shrug. “I might do some traveling—and go see some of my ‘chicks.’ They’ve moved from coast to coast now.”

“That sounds wonderful.”

Ah, yes…wonderful. But what about the days and weeks and months after that? The years? “Jane is on the schedule tonight—I’ll put a note on the time clock for her,” Grace said briskly. “They haven’t had a phone for a while, but it should be back in service soon. Jane could check with her daughter and then call you from here.”

Giving her a grateful smile, Erin fished her car keys from the depths of her purse. “You’re a lifesaver.”

“No problem. You’d be doing Haley a favor, I think. That family doesn’t have it easy.” With a nod of farewell, Grace started down the hall toward her office, thankful that she still had her beloved job. The hustle and bustle of busy days.

What on earth would she do with her life when she had to retire? She’d never been one to sit idle, and she had no one left to share those interminable years ahead.

A brief, poignant image flashed through her head, of the one man she’d always loved.

Maybe…

But who would ever imagine that Grace Fisher, Director of Nursing, could even entertain such foolish thoughts? The years had left her hefty, gray-haired and entirely too practical for such nonsense.

She’d made her choices, and she’d lived with them well. Regrets were a waste of time.

CHAPTER SIX

“I DIDN’T LET SCOUT LOOSE,” Drew hissed.

“Did, too. I bet you left the door open.” Lily, who almost never stood up to him, jammed her hands on her skinny hips. “Now he’s gone. Maybe that wolf will get him.”

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