Prologue
Deacon
It was nearly eleven o’clock, and I was exhausted. But then again, what else was new?
The day had been a long one, but not a bad one. We were three weeks into real life for the oncology wing here at St. Agnes Memorial Hospital—the realization of a dream I’d had for years—and real life wasn’t always pretty. The patients occupying the rooms on this floor were all seriously ill. Each one was facing pain, incredible suffering and possible death. I never forgot that, not for one minute. They deserved the best we had to give them, even when that meant sacrificing time, energy and any kind of life outside these walls.
That was why the telephone call I’d gotten late this afternoon was such shitty timing. The last thing I needed was someone else telling me that I was needed—desperately—thousands of miles away from the hospital where I’d committed my time and energy. There was no way I should have told Erin Lopez that I’d even think about the possibility. I was the head physician in this department—hell, I was the only doctor here full-time. We had several others with privileges at the hospital who could fill in the gaps, but no one had the big-picture view that I did. No one cared as passionately as I did.
Our two nurse practitioners were incredibly dedicated and hard working. They kept things humming on the next level, and our nurses and techs were indispensable, too. Once we had the naturopathic doctor on board, I’d feel a lot more settled. I’d have a little more breathing room.
Thinking of that, I clicked onto my laptop’s email program. I vaguely remembered seeing a notification pop up earlier in the day that mentioned the naturopath position, and with any luck, it was from the candidate we’d been vetting for the past two weeks, after our initial hire had had to vacate his contract due to a family crisis.
When I found the email, I gave a little grunt of relief. The doctor we’d been hoping for had agreed to our terms and was excited about the idea of coming down to work with us. We’d asked for her to start as soon as possible, but it seemed she was going to need a few weeks to arrange the move. It wasn’t an unreasonable request by any means—after all, she was relocating from Philadelphia, leaving a job in one medical center to come to an entirely new situation—but it meant that I was still on the horns of a dilemma.
“Dr. Girard?” The woman in my doorway rapped her knuckle on the jamb, smiling a little as she leaned in. “Sorry to bother you. I’m just getting ready to head home, but I wanted to let you know that Angela Spencer is all settled in. I spent some time talking to her about the specifics of her chemo tomorrow and answered some questions. I told her you’d be by to see her in the morning.”
I leaned back, my fingers templed. “Thanks, Jenny. I appreciate it. Do you think I should go down there tonight to check on her before I go home?”
The nurse practitioner shook her head. “I wouldn’t. She’s settling down to sleep now, and I think you’re fine to wait for morning.”
“Awesome.” I sighed and bent my neck first to one side and then to the other. “I know you’re here way beyond the end of your shift, but I had a feeling Angela might need someone like you to help her make the transition this time.”
“Like you told me early on, doctor, we don’t work bankers’ hours here. The job isn’t nine-to-five or even eight-to-eleven.” She pointed to me. “Exhibit A. I’m not completely convinced that you don’t live in this office. You’re here when I arrive in the morning, and I don’t recall you leaving before I do. Ever.”
I smirked. “Do as I say and not as I do, Jen. Trust me. The work is important, but doing it well doesn’t mean neglecting your own life.” I paused. “Also, for the one-hundredth time, please call me Deacon.”
Her cheeks flushed a pretty shade of pink. “Sorry. It’s habit. I’ll try to remember.” She pushed away from the door and then hesitated. “Everything okay? You looked like something was on your mind when I knocked.”
“Ah . . .” I shrugged. “Actually, good news. The naturopath Mira and I sent the offer to has accepted. She’s aiming to start in about three weeks or so, assuming she can get the loose ends tied up where she is now.”
“That’s wonderful.” Jenny grinned. “Someone to take some of the pressure off all of us. I’ve never worked with a naturopath. Is she going to be all woo-woo? Like a witch doctor?”
I laughed. “Not hardly. Most naturopathic doctors just tend more toward medicine that can be implemented through lifestyle adjustments and the use of herbs, supplements . . .” I lifted one shoulder. “I think she’ll be a good addition to what we’re doing here. She’ll round out what we offer. She’s working in an oncology center now, so I feel like she’ll be able to handle more than a doctor who has only been in private practice.” I fiddled with a pen on my desk. “Which is probably a good thing, because I got a call this afternoon from No Hungry Child.”
She tilted her head. “Okay. I’ve heard of them—they work with the UN to fight hunger, right?”
“Yeah.” I ran my fingers through my hair. “I did some work with the organization the summer between undergrad and med school, and I’ve done a couple of short-term trips with them since then. They try to offer more than just hunger relief—they want to combat childhood diseases related to lack of nourishment and hunger, too.”
“Cool. So what did they want today?”
“Me.” I grimaced. “The doctor scheduled to be part of the team for a short-term mission to Venezuela got sick and had to pull out. The woman organizing this one is someone I worked with several times before, and she asked me to step up and go with them.”
“Wow.” Jenny folded her arms over her chest, the motion pulling her scrubs top tight over her breasts. I made a conscious decision not to look. “So are you going to go?”
“Honestly?” I shook my head. “I’m not sure. I want to help them out, because it’s important work. But this could not be a worse time to leave Florida, not with everything we’re in the middle of doing here. Still, if the ND is set to come on board, it’s a lot more feasible than it would be otherwise. I’d have to leave about a week before she got here, but between you and Darcy, and Mira, of course, I think we could make it. Especially if we can sweet-talk some of the consulting doctors to step up their on-call hours, too.”
“Anything I can do to help, just let me know. I don’t mind working extra hours. I have plenty of time right now.” Her eyes fastened on the floor, and her lips tightened. I wasn’t the most dialed-in, sensitive-to-feelings dude, but I had a hunch she was trying hard not to cry.
“Everything okay, Jen?”
“Sure.” The smile she gave me was definitely forced. “Absolutely.”
“Is Nico doing all right?” I’d met her boyfriend a couple of times, and although the guy had seemed to be a hundred percent in love with her, I didn’t know him well enough to be sure he was a good man.
Jenny hesitated. “He’s . . . fine. He, ah, he’s out of town for the time being, though. He’s working at a restaurant in Charleston.”
I was surprised to hear that. “I thought he was looking for work down here.”
