Code Blue Read Free Page B

woman.Maybe Jane hadn't heard the news about the accident. Yeah, and maybe the President would call today and invite Cathy to dinner at the White House.
    Cathy tried to sneak in the back door, but Jane's hearing was awfully good for a woman her age. She met Cathy at the door to her office, clucking like a mother hen and shaking her head. "Dr. Sewell, what happened to you?"
    What a break it had been for her when Jane—a trim, silver-haired grandmother with a sassy twinkle in her eye— answered her ad for a combination office nurse and secretary.She'd helped Cathy set up the office, given her advice on business, and provided a sympathetic ear on more occasions than she could count.
    Cathy recognized Jane's question as rhetorical. Having grown up in Dainger, Cathy knew how quickly news spread in her hometown. She'd bet that Jane had known about the accident before Cathy had cleared the emergency room doors on Saturday. By now, probably everyone in town knew.
    "I was out for a ride in the country. I needed to relax and clear my mind. Then someone ran me offthe road out near Big Sandy Creek. My car went out of control, flipped, and took out a row of Seth Johnson's peach trees." Cathy winced as she dropped her purse into the bottom drawer of her desk. "Dr. Bell sutured a laceration on my scalp."
    "Any other injuries? Do we need to cancel today's patients?"
    Cathy shook her head, aggravating a headache that the Tylenol had only dulled. "Other than the fact that I feel like I've just finished a week of two-a-day practices with the Dallas Cowboys, I'm okay."
    "It's good that you have a nice light schedule today. You can take it easy."
    Cathy frowned. A "nice light schedule" for a doctor just getting started as a family practitioner wasn't exactly the stuff she dreamed about. She needed patients. The money from the bank loan was about gone, and her income stream was anything but impressive. But she'd do the best she could.Anything had to beat living in Dallas, knowing she might run into Robert.
    Speak of the devil. Cathy actually shuddered when she saw the return address on the envelope sitting in the middle of her desk: Robert Edward Newell, M.D.
    She clamped her jaws shut, snatched up a brass letter opener, and ripped open the envelope. Inside were two newspaper clippings and a few words scribbled on a piece of white notepaper with an ad for a hypertension drug at the top of the page. The first clipping announced the engagement of Miss Laura Lynn Hunt, daughter of Dr. Earl and Mrs. Betty Hunt, to Dr. Robert Edward Newell. The second featured a photo of Laura Lynn and Robert, she in a high couture evening gown, he in a perfectly fitting tux, arriving at the Terpsichorean Ball. The note was brief and to the point: "See what you've missed?" No signature. Just a reminder, one that made her grit her teeth until her jaws ached. Leave it to Robert to rub salt in her wounds.
    She forced herself to sit quietly and breathe deeply until the knot in her throat loosened. Then she wadded the clippings and note into a tight ball, which she consigned to the wastebasket with as much force as she could muster.
    No use rethinking the past. Time to get on with her life."Jane," she called, "may I have the charts for today's patients? I want to go over them."
    Jane returned and deposited a pitifully small stack of thin charts on Cathy's desk. The look in Jane's eyes said it all. Sorry there aren't more. Sorry you're hurting. Sorry.
    Cathy picked up the top chart but didn't open it. "Do you think I made a mistake coming here to practice?"
    Jane eased into one of the patient chairs across the desk from Cathy. "Why would you ask that?"
    "I applied at three banks before I got a loan. When I mention to other doctors that I'm taking new patients, they get this embarrassed look and mumble something about keeping that in mind, but they never make any referrals.Several of my patients tell me they've heard stories around town that make them wonder about my